says in a low voice. “Our group of friends—we all know.” He leans forward and whispers, “I didn’t want to come here, but my client insisted, okay? And I could have told my client the story too and he definitely would have gone somewhere else, but my girlfriend’s place happens to be close to here and I want to stop by before I have to go home.”
I look at him unhappily. I’ve only had a few drinks in my first two rooms, but my heart is already starting to feel as if it’s being squeezed.
“I don’t know that what I did was so wrong,” I say. I know I shouldn’t talk about it, especially here and now, but I just can’t help myself.
He looks at me in disbelief. “This is exactly what’s so terrible about it,” he says. “Are you serious? Are you insane? Someone actually has to explain this to you? I don’t even know where to begin. Do you even understand how humiliated his family would have been because of you? At the Reign Hotel? Are you kidding me?”
His raised voice draws attention and the room falls silent. The other girls quickly try to start up conversations again, but a lean man with silvery hair addresses him sharply. “What is the matter?” he says, looking displeased. “Why is the mood in the room turning this way?” He is clearly the client.
The chubby lawyer looks panicked. “I’m sorry, sir,” he says, swallowing. “Er, this girl, she was secretly trying to throw away her drink, so I was getting angry.”
I am caught off guard, but I quickly bow my head in the client’s direction. “I’m so sorry, sir,” I say. “I was drinking too quickly so I just wanted to rest a bit but I should not have.”
My stomach is clenched so hard it hurts, but I hurriedly take up my glass and gulp the whiskey down. “It seems particularly smooth tonight!” I say with a big smile. “You ordered the expensive stuff!”
The client laughs and says he likes my style. He points to my cup, and I hurry to fill it again. Taking a quick deep breath, I drink another shot. It burns down my throat. “I like good drinkers,” he booms. “I like this place. No one tries to back out of the party. I’m sure you were mistaken, Shim-byun. The girls here—their livers are made of iron.”
“Of course, sir, I love this place too!” says the lawyer hastily. “Kyuri here is one of the prettiest girls in the shop. We were just teasing each other. She has a great sense of humor.”
“Oh really?” says the client. “You’re funny too? Why don’t you come over here, then?” He pats the seat next to him and nods curtly to Miyeon, the girl sitting next to him, to switch.
“What an honor!” I say, bouncing up instantly. The room tilts sharply around me but I ignore it.
“I’m warning you, if you try to secretly throw away a drink on my watch, there will be big trouble,” he says as I perch next to him. “I’m spending good money here and I can’t stand that kind of thing.”
“Of course not, sir. I wouldn’t dream of it! And honestly, I was waiting for someone to pour me some more, but I didn’t want to make you men seem like weak drinkers next to me,” I say. I am babbling, really, and have little idea of what I am saying, but he pours me some more and we drink and then we drink and drink some more and I do not remember anything after that.
The next morning, I throw up so much in bed that Miho is wakened by the noise and runs to the convenience store to buy me some hangover powder and Pocari Sweat and has to spend the rest of the morning washing my sheets for me. I am seeing rivers of stars and cannot get up, and while Miho is hanging the sheets up to dry, I fall asleep again on the floor of my room, clutching my coverless pillow to my chest.
When I finally wake up again, it is almost dinnertime. There is clanging coming from