Short stories include different characters, with every chapter include a different couples in it, may be angst, SMUT, blood, psychological issues etc.
They are absolutely random and I decided to throw myself in this genre as it honestly my fav, I ha...
P.S. it's a long story for ya, prepare for 4K words) the picture though)
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Han Jisung never thought he'd end up on a city street corner, strumming his guitar for spare change. But with his family debts mounting and no other options in sight, it was the only way he could make money. He wasn't a prodigy, but he knew how to put emotion into every note he played, how to make his voice tremble with feeling as he sang. The melodies came from a place deep within him, a place full of dreams that had never quite taken flight.
He played for hours every day, barely making enough to get by. It was at one such moment, with his fingers aching and his throat dry from singing, that he first noticed him—Lee Minho, known as Lee Know in business circles. Dressed in a suit that probably cost more than Jisung's entire yearly income, Minho watched with an amused expression as Jisung performed. His dark eyes glittered with something akin to condescension, and when he dropped a few bills into the open guitar case, it wasn't out of charity. It was out of boredom.
"Nice voice," Minho said, his tone laced with sarcasm as he turned to leave. "But don't quit your day job."
Jisung gritted his teeth but managed a tight smile. "Thanks for the tip," he replied, his voice thick with irony.
The next day, and the day after that, Minho returned to watch Jisung play. There was something in his stare that unnerved Jisung, a kind of possessiveness as if Minho was assessing him like a piece of art he wanted to buy and hang on a wall. And then, after nearly a week of this, Minho approached Jisung again, this time holding out a business card.
"Come work for me," Minho said with a tone that suggested he was giving Jisung the greatest opportunity of his life. "I could use someone who knows how to entertain."
Jisung glanced at the card, then at Minho's arrogant smirk. "I'm not for sale."
Minho's eyes narrowed slightly. "Everyone has a price, Jisung," he replied coolly. "You just haven't figured out yours yet."
Jisung hadn't intended to call the number, but a particularly rough week left him with little choice. With rent overdue and no gigs lined up, he found himself dialing Minho's number despite every instinct telling him not to. Within hours, he was at a penthouse in the heart of the city, staring up at the gleaming tower where Minho resided.
Minho greeted him with a glass of wine in hand, his usual smirk in place. "I knew you'd come," he said, as if Jisung's desperation had been a foregone conclusion.
"I'm not here for charity," Jisung retorted. "What kind of work do you have for me?"
Minho tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over Jisung. "Entertainment," he answered simply. "Private performances, parties... things like that."
Jisung's hands tightened around the neck of his guitar. "I don't do... other kinds of favors, if that's what you're thinking."
Minho's chuckle was low and mocking. "Don't flatter yourself," he replied. "I'm just offering you a chance to earn money and live a little better than you do now. What's the harm in that?"
