Even when a monster is wounded, he could still wreak havoc in this mortal world.
Jung Yongcheol, the patriarch and chairman of the most powerful Jung Family in South Korea collapsed at a Finance Conference.
The owner of Jungwon Group, a giant in the real estate and urban development, with a strong claw in finance and hospitality, was deemed medically unfit to continue working, at least for a year.
This situation propelled his son, Jung Seungchul, to replace his father. Perhaps temporarily or permanently, no one could tell for sure this early.
Theoretically Seungchul, who was 27, was ready for this sudden occasion. He's been moulded to head the Jungwon group. Only the most expensive education, curated social circle, and a long list of do's and don'ts had been his entire journey for the past 27 years.
Everyone predicted that Seungchul would stay in the managerial position of Jungwon's Headquarter for at least one more decade. He had been in finance, architecture, marketing, and was currently at the strategic management division, when the news arrived.
As per the company's rule and expectations, he became the young chairman that very day.
*****
Three months had passed since that catastrophic day, and Seungchul's life had changed dramatically. He spent his days on meetings that seemed endless. His nightmares were full with his father's voice screaming, "WHY IS THE PROFIT LOWER THAN LAST YEAR???" And people who spoke to him with multiple meanings behind everything.
At a glance, he seemed to be handling everything very well. Most of his days were smooth. Even when there were troubles, he and the directors could find the solutions in good timing. Their stock's value was stable. The thousands of employees were calmly doing their jobs without any complaints.
People even started to whisper that perhaps Jungwon Group had a new image then. It used to be classy, elegant and serious. With Seungchul, the company felt more modern, more in tune with the current situation.
The only one who knew the truth behind the company's glow up was Eunsoo, Seungchul's secretary.
They have been friends since high school.
Eunsoo followed his friend to Yonsei, then to Oxford.
In the first month, Seungchul was sleep deprived. He was determined not to fail, so he checked the market incessantly, forever reading reports and forecasts, and insisted to be the person that knew all the pre-meetings materials by heart before the meetings began.
In the second month, his life was entirely devoid of any social schedules outside of work. He used to still drink or have a meal with his friends. But from then on, Seungchul's life only consisted of going to work and going home.
In the third month, Eunsoo noticed Seungchul rarely finished his meals anymore.
Behind the facade of the perfectly capable young chairman, there was a man who was slowly dying inside.
When you are Jung Seungchul, you need to be more than the best.
He was the student council president in high school.
The President of The Students Union in Yonsei.
He was in the top three in their Oxford year.
Yet there was no clapping or praises from his parents.
A Jungwon son should be the best. It was a matter of course. You need to be more than being the best. You need to be legendary.
Three months into the job, and Eunsoo was already worried. How much farther was Seungchul going to destroy himself to chase perfection?
*****
"Come on, just tell me, where are you taking me?" Seungchul asked, his exhausted voice filled the entire car.
"Somewhere you've never been. I just want you to do something so shocking, you'd forget your life. Even just for a night. Or even an hour."
Seungchul chuckled.
"What are you talking about? Just drop me at my place, Eunsoo-yah. We got an important meeting tomorrow, at 9 AM."
"All your meetings are important. Besides, what's the use of being a chairman if you can't even reschedule one meeting?"
"Yah! That meeting is crucial for our—"
Eunsoo raised his hand to hold the tirade. "Tsk, I know! I know, alright? Stop that lecture. It's just—you're—too stressed. Lately. You need to relax a little. Either you'll enjoy this, or you'll punch me. Whatever that is, I'll take it, because it means you're still alive. Live a little, Seungchul-ah. Live a little."
"What does this jerk even mean…." Seungchul grumbled, as Eunsoo turned to an area of Seoul that had more dubious clubs than other areas.
*****
"Yah, if you want to kill me, it's easier to do it in my office, not like this!"
"Don't be so dramatic, this is simply a club."
"It's a VVIP gay club! If my father knows, he'll beat me up!"
"Well, he's using IV drip daily. He wouldn't be able to beat you into a pulp."
"Really, let's just go home! I can't handle the repercussion if—"
"Shut up and eat something, for God's sake. Did you know how much beef those skewers are???"
"I'll just finish this then we leave."
"No. I need you to watch this—er—show."
"Gentlemen," the club's owner appeared on stage, holding a microphone, "The time has come for our dearest Helen to perform again. This is a new dance routine, and he had practiced so hard for this one. I hope you'll be satisfied, but then again, I know Helen can always satisfy you, hahaha!"
The piano's interlude began, and loud applause began to fill the room.
It was a room that was similar to a Roman theatre setting. Seats were arranged in different heights like in an arena, with small tables in between.
Apparently, it's the room where only the best performers could show their talents.
"Helen???" Seungchul asked incredulously. "Are they referring to Helen of Troy???"
Eunsoo, who had done his research, replied, "Helen of Troy was the face that launched a thousand ships into battle. From what I read about this club's Helen, it seemed that he had the same power."
Seungchul snorted. "That's impossible," he replied incredulously.
First, a woman wearing a long, black dress appeared. She was wearing black gloves and a pearl necklace, looking every inch as someone who deserved singing at a five star hotel. Then, musicians appeared and took their positions.
Seungchul frowned. What kind of gay club is this? Isn't it too….exclusive?
Then "Helen" appeared.
In contrast with the singer, who was singing "Beautiful Disaster" by Kelly Clarkson in a sultry version, Helen was underdressed. He was only wearing a white shirt and a black pair of skinny jeans. He was barefoot as well.
"Good evening," he smiled. "I hope you'll enjoy the show."
And he began to…..dance.
Surprisingly, it started elegantly. Far too elegant for Seungchul's comprehension.
The room had around thirty people in the audience, all paid a high price to see him performed.
A flick of his hand, then the dance.
It was ballet for the male partner. He seemed to be dancing with an invisible partner.
Was it him, or was the dance supposed to be….sad?
Helen was a gorgeous man. Beautiful, even. Smooth, fair skin. Full lips. Blond hair that reached the nape of his collar.
He moved like he was flying. Walking on water. Embracing a lover that no one could see.
Something. Something within Seungchul broke when Helen ran on stage and outreached his hand to the audience as if he was begging for a lover to stay, and not leave him.
The singer then left the stage.
And the band performed an intricate tune.
Helen smirked on stage, as he unbuttoned his shirt slowly.
Then he went to the pole in the middle of the stage, and began swirling on it as if he defied gravity.
He moved like he was born for it.
He moved as someone who knew damn well he was hypnotizing.
He moved like he was meant to steal everybody's heart that night, and held them all captive.
He had this playful smile from time to time, as the music turned faster and faster, prompting him to move faster, hooking his legs on the pole then hanging on it.
At one fated second, Helen looked directly at Seungchul.
He heard there was someone extremely rich that bought three rows of seats that night.
He was surprised that the man was not old, but seemed to be around his age.
And he was looking to the stage, to him, with widened eyes, as if he was in shock.
"Hello," he mouthed in his audience's direction, before the music became more relaxed.
It was his cue, however, to take off his jeans.
Free of them, he held the pole again, his long legs snaking around it.
It was his policy to forget the audience, and just try to dive into the music, blending his body with the tunes.
He swirled, twisted, and hung in the air.
Over and over again.
But Helen was extra aware of that one pair of eyes.
His final pose was the one where he hung face down, legs high on the pole, and the applause was deafening.
But that man didn't clap his hands. Didn't scream his stage name. He didn't even move.
He couldn't fake a smile for a few seconds, before finally smiling sweetly. It was all part of the job.
But why didn't that man appreciate his performance, though?
Was he not good enough?
*****
Of course, Helen left with a client who already booked him with a fantastic price for the night.
The club owner then approached Seungchul and Eunsoo, the former was frozen, as if he was still in muted shock.
"This is the card of uri Helen," the club owner said, handing Seungchul a name card with a flourish.
It was written: Helen - (his kakao ID).
"If you wish to see him privately, you can contact the number at the back."
Seungchul turned the card around. There was a phone number of the club.
"I hope you will be a regular, Mr. Handsome," the club owner winked.
*****
All the way home, he was quiet.
Eunsoo was quiet as well, although he kept checking the rearview mirror to evaluate his boss's condition.
In Seungchul's hand, he was holding the name card.
*****