Ace of Hearts

How the Night Ended

12 hours ago, it started like this...

"Namjoo! Namjoo! Namjoo!"

Night life was as lively indoors as it was outside. Down the corridor past the fake banana tree plastered into the corner, the bar counter seats was all occupied. On the dance floor the sweaty drunkards were grooving to the DJ zapping his fingers at swift lightning speed on his magic keyboard. The stereos were on full power pumping out every beat, thud, bass, electronic, hypnotic noise possible.

VIP love seats, the plushiest of the plushiest on the market, bordered the dance area. A slick dressed man, a short-skirted woman or a few more took the tables, rubbing legs, touching, and flirting. At every table sat a pitcher of beer, expensive as heck liquor, and smelly shot glasses – all of them emptied. The men, the women, the high schoolers with fake IDs, and young adults were all packed into the Moon Club on a Thursday night.

Mediocre. Kind of high class, but affordable enough for a blue-collar employee to play for one night. A building with high shiny black panels, dome lights, and six stairs led to entry. At the front door two burly bodyguards guarded the entrance. Double checking dress code, valid IDs, securing the safety of the club. They were the most important assets of her family's business.

Up the stairwell and past a short, narrow hallway disco lights flared, bouncing of the walls like they, too, were dancing to music. Straight past the sleek bar counter offering top-notch twelve leather cushioned stools where behind the bartender manned liquor, beer, and miscellaneous beverages called water and soda the hall snaked right into the private area. Circling back to the hallway beyond the fake banana tree, leaves drooping so bad the new hire had been watering the pitiful plant in hopes of restoring its life until he was told the tree was fake. He had blushed so madly Namjoo couldn't laugh.

Down the private corridor the six rooms on either side required reservation before use. The most expensive VIP club members used the cordoned rooms to conduct business. Maybe have fun secretly. Majorly if a client came with enough money the room was rented.

To add to the private security, soundproof doors blockaded passersby from eavesdropping. Those rooms were the best of the best. Luxurious with sectional leather couches along three walls, a giant marbled table that could fill up twenty servings of food, and an 86" ultra HD television screen including two microphones for karaoke. Specific bar girls were hired out for hours if requested.

Whatever went on in the drinking karaoke room was private to whomever had paid out its hours. Availability didn't weigh in. It was a first come first serve basis, a rule instated by the club's madam, her mother, Jina.

To much of Kim Namjoo's disappointment, her mother never allowed her inside. Even if her mother ran the hell out of the place and started implementing an escort service she'd been a part of since turning 18.

As an escort, majority of the time Namjoo accompanied bored patrons for fun, getting out of it several hundred dollars in payment. Bargain your business she had learned through much experience. Generally, she got less if the night was spent with a younger man so she went for older.

She never slept with strangers. Hence the difference between an escort and a prostitute who worked for sexual favors.

But tonight, the problem proved different.

Very different.

"Namjoo!"

Namjoo had just left the washroom. A sleek black walled paradise resonating luxury with eight stalls and long mirrors behind the deep silver sinks. The cleanest of the cleanest room in Moon Club. Not to forget the air purifiers. They smelled of Hawaiian heaven.