SEXYBACK : hyunsung ✓

𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

"Hello, how are you gorgeous? I'm out for a small business trip and won't be there till Saturday. So I expect you that noon at my door. Have a good day. Take care of yourself."

It was close to a world wonder that he was allowed to perform again. Because, of course, Blake had snitched about their little... conversation. He successfully left out the whole part where he had tried to steal Hyunjin's drugs.

Now it wasn't like Hyunjin didn't try and justify himself. No, because a day without doing his precious work was a day, he felt more like having absolutely no use taking up air. Air that someone else's, smarter kid could use.

And his other boss, if you will, had given him the chance to dig deeper.

"Give it up for our very own Havana!" The DJ announced as Hyunjin's figure slid into the middle of the big stage. Hyunjin raised his hands and twirled on the round stage.

For his body so drilled to perform, his mind was elsewhere in the room. The only thing that was hard to conceal was the frown that was decorating his face.

But he covered it up with a smile. The one you use for the big money. No Hyunjin could care less if he was smiling or rocking a resting bitch face if this was a Monday afternoon.

But his gears never stopped turning. Because no matter who he tried to turn to, Kira, Seungmin, or even other trusted dancers, no one knew what was going on. And the poor baby strippers were going on as if nothing was happening at all. Because in their eyes there wasn't. Besides Jeongin who was caught right in the middle of it all. Poor baby.

So being on the main stage today, on such a busy Friday night, was suspicious to him.

 His heels clack together as his body twists around the pole. The air was stuffy. When he inhaled he had to puff up his chest just to get enough air into his lungs to fuel his muscles.

And maybe he was paranoid. Stress affects not only his skin (as he had to find out the hard way, faced with a breakout on his forehead this morning) but his Organ system as well. So read an article from a woman's guidebook.

 Hyunjin skipped the part where it talked about bad mental health having a similar impact.

While he was kneeling on the floor, Foxy was announced to join the stage. Hyunjin got up, turning away from the mass to look at Jeongin. His eyes glimmered, but it went out as quick as it had come. Hyunjin's stomach flipped. Something was definitely wrong.

The Penthouse would never put a veteran with a rookie, because of the risks. But as the two face each other, one hand on the pole, nothing was like before. 

"Look around," Jeongin whispered, got closer but hid it as a dance move.

And for the first time in the night, Hyunjin scanned the mass. And soon enough he realized. The flashing lights were reflected by watches decorated with stones. Other strippers danced around the men like they had never seen another male creature in their life. All of them wore neatly ironed suits and shirts. They were throwing actual cash at them. They're rich rich.

Jeongin and he met in the middle, at the pole again. They performed basic moves together, so they could talk without being noticed. "Who's this?" Hyunjin asked.

"More importantly what the fuck is boss doing here, with them." Jeongin's eyes fly over to the direction the boss must've been sitting. Hyunjin's eyes widened, but he had to turn on cue for the last bit of the song.

He found boss. In the middle of a big, round couch right in front of the stage. Blake was clutching his arm, blinking his eyes, and hanging on every word coming from that disgusting mouth of his.