I definitely overdid it. That's how I felt when I woke up. I shouldn't have drunk so much, especially when I'm alone.
With a sharp sound ringing in my head, I realized I was in an unfamiliar place.
— Huh? — I looked around. The place I was in was definitely not my house. There was a bookshelf filled with signed albums of Korean idols and rappers. It would've been a simple hotel room if not for that detail.
I stood up, happy to be dressed, and went toward the door, which was just ajar. I looked outside and cautiously walked down the small hallway. I found what seemed to be the living room. I noticed some movement, and there, the kitchen. Standing near the stove, was a guy with black, slightly wavy hair, his right arm completely tattooed, piercings in his eyebrow and lower lip, and his abdomen exposed. He stared at me, impressed.
— You're awake, Park. Good morning.
— What happened? — I yelled, startled. He was such an attractive guy, and I was extremely drunk. With a man like that, I'd probably do crazy things, even sober. — What did I do? What did we do?
— Nothing happened like you're thinking — he said, grabbing his shirt and then putting it on.
— Who are you? — He looked at me, doubting my question. Should I know him? Should I remember?
He sighed.
— I almost ran you over yesterday. You, drunk, insisted that I take you home, but I didn't know where you lived. I brought you to my place, and you still insisted on sleeping in my room — he said coldly. The memories in my mind were confirming everything he said, and now I understood why he didn't look happy. — But I only helped you because I know you.
— From where?
— From college.
— Ah, I see. — I moved toward him. — Sorry about that.
— Want something to eat? I made scrambled eggs.
I looked at him suspiciously. But if I can trust my memories, he's not a bad guy, just busy.
— Yeah, I'd like that. I still have to go to work.
He served me and then sat across from me.
— I don't remember seeing you at college — I commented.
— I only go a few days — he said, not taking his eyes off the food.
His face was familiar, but I couldn't identify him. Does he wear glasses?
He was, indeed, a very handsome man.
— Are you gay? — I asked. Not that I was interested, just because… Okay, I'm gay and I find him attractive.
— And I thought you were just hitting on me yesterday because you were drunk — he said, pressing his lips and puffing out his cheeks. A rather adorable scene, though unexpected. He looked like a 23-year-old. — Actually, due to some situations… I'm unable to have physical relationships with people, so it doesn't matter what my preference is. — He seemed frustrated, but finished with a serious look that made him seem older. — Just don't touch me with ulterior motives.
My smile faded. He was direct and simple. I understood perfectly, unfortunately.
— I get it, I have a friend like you… The world is very cruel, but you'd be a very sought-after gay — I commented.
His gaze came to me; he seemed incredulous, but just accepted it.
— Well, thanks.
As soon as I finished eating, I said goodbye to him. I had no idea where the entrance door was in that place. The strange man didn't bother to follow me or guide me to it.
When I left the place, I realized I wasn't in a hotel. It was a condominium, and more than that, it was a luxury one. I didn't encounter anyone except the doorman.
What kind of person was he to have something like that, so far beyond my ideal standard? Besides being handsome, rich, and with a gangster air. I'm not saying this because of the tattoos or piercings, but because of the way he spoke: he seemed very serious and unpretentious, nothing seemed to faze him, even a topic as intimate as a possible abuse trauma. Either he was lying or he was very confident. Truly, someone very intriguing to me. But I don't intend to see him again.