Jisoo habitually left her car keys at the bureau a few feet from the private elevator that directly accessed her penthouse. She walked to the living room, threw her handbag on the couch, and let herself fall into the chair.
“The gods must be bored tonight,” she said, talking to no one in particular.
She had a theory. Whenever the deities were bored, they probably thought, ‘There’s Jisoo Kim, let’s play with her.’ And it looked like those gods were bored far too often. She wasn’t even sure what kind of gods or deities they were. Greek gods? Korean deities? Maybe. She amused herself with those thoughts.
Jisoo Kim, the daughter of the country’s Prime Minister, also known as one of the youngest female business moguls, was being a plaything of bored gods. Why did she think that? Because for the past two years, the memories of the past she wanted to forget resurfaced at the most random times: when she was in the middle of a meeting, while taking a shower, while getting in an elevator. And at all these random times, it still affected her. She thought she had already succeeded in getting rid of them, the past and her memories.
She stood up and walked to the bar to get herself a drink. She used to have a butler living with her, but she knew that her father was probably asking Mr. Yong to spy on her, so she asked him to go back to their household. She walked while sipping her scotch on the rocks and went to the glass wall overlooking the city skyline. Nothing in the scenery had changed. It looked like everybody out there was still busy, unlike her.
“Why don’t you guys fuck their lives up? Why do you always pick on me? All I need is sleep. Just leave me alone tonight,” she whispered, still talking to the non-existent gods she created to amuse herself. She held her forehead with her right hand when she realized what she was doing. Maybe she was slowly going crazy.
She took off her coat and her shoes. She turned on the flat-screen TV to distract herself. There was a late-night talk show introducing new artists. She was about to switch the channel when she heard the host introduce someone named “Chaeyoung.”
She observed the artist on the screen. She looked nothing like the Chaeyoung she once knew. Yes, they were both pretty, but her Chaeyoung was a lot more beautiful. Her Chaeyoung, her Chaeng, her Pasta. Jisoo was surprised that she used a possessive pronoun for the woman. Hers? When did she ever really have her?
Ah, the gods must have really been playing with her tonight because she finally let herself remember everything about the memories she wanted to forget, the past that she tried to box up and hide in the deepest part of her mind...
THREE YEARS AGO…
“Wow, someone’s got a date!”
Jisoo smiled at what her cousin said. It was a Saturday, and she indeed had a date. She was staying in a two-bedroom apartment in Washington with her cousin, Nayeon, while she finished her MA at Georgetown.
She was excited to finally be able to spend time with her girlfriend. She wanted to show Chaeyoung, or Chaeng, what DC could offer. For the first time in her life, Jisoo was finally happy—and it was all thanks to a fellow young Korean woman who was a second-year student at Georgetown University.
“Yes, I do have a date,” she replied, showing her biggest smile. She could not keep that smile off her face for the past few weeks. Chaeyoung made her happy and free.
She knew there were still things she needed to talk to Chaeng about herself, but she didn’t want to risk ruining everything just yet. Of course, she still had her reservations when starting this relationship, but not about Chaeng—just her circumstances.
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My Gorgeous Mobster (JenLisa)
FanfictionHer stride radiated arrogance; she moved as if she owned the place. Lithe and tall, she had a rough-around-the-edges charm that was undeniably womanly. With a raw and powerful sex appeal, she captivated the attention of everyone in the restaurant. W...
