I definitely overdid it. That's how I felt the moment I woke up. I shouldn't have drunk that much, especially not when I'm alone.
With a sharp ringing in my head, I realized I was somewhere completely unfamiliar.
— Huh? — I looked around. This place definitely wasn't my apartment.
With so many signed albums, I could be in a rich teenager's room… or an obsessed fan's. Same thing, really.
I got up quickly, relieved to find I was still wearing pants, and headed toward the door that was slightly ajar. I peeked outside and cautiously stepped into a narrow hallway. I found what looked like the living room. Then I noticed movement, and there was the kitchen.
Standing by the stove was a guy with wavy black hair, a full sleeve tattoo on his right arm, piercings on his eyebrow and lower lip, and his abs fully on display.
He looked at me like I was a talking cat.
— You're awake, Park. Good morning.
— What happened?! — I shouted, startled.
He was way too attractive, and I had been completely drunk. With a man like that, I could do reckless things even sober.
— What did I do? Did we sleep together? Don't tell me I was the drunk top...
— Nothing happened, if that's what you're thinking — he said as he grabbed a shirt and pulled it on. — You just slept.
— Who are you? — He looked at me like my question was absurd. Was I supposed to know him? Remember him?
He sighed, clearly annoyed.
— I almost ran you over last night. You were drunk and insisted I take you home, but you wouldn't say where you lived. I brought you here, and then you insisted on sleeping in my bed — he said coldly.
The memories started lining up in my brain, confirming everything he said. And yeah, I got why he didn't seem thrilled.
— But I only helped because I know who you are.
— From where?
— College.
— Ah, got it. — I walked toward him. — I'm sorry about that.
— Want something to eat? I made scrambled eggs.
I hesitated. But my gut said he didn't seem dangerous. Just… practical.
— Yeah, I'd like that. I still have to get 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 a week — he said without looking up from his food.
His face was familiar, but I couldn't place him. Maybe he usually wore glasses?
He was, honestly, a really good-looking guy.
— Are you gay? — I asked.
Not that I was interested just because… Okay, maybe I was interested.
— And here I thought you were only hitting on me last night because you were drunk — he said, puffing his cheeks and pressing his lips together.
It was a surprisingly adorable sight. He looked like a 23-year-old kid.
— For reasons I'd rather forget... I can't be physically involved with anyone. So it doesn't really matter who it is. — His tone shifted. Cold. — Just don't touch me with any funny intentions.
My smile faded. He was blunt and to the point. Got it, unfortunately.
— I get it. I have a friend like you... The world's cruel, but you'd make a very… in-demand gay guy — I said.
He looked at me, clearly baffled, but didn't say anything. Just accepted it.
— Well, thanks.
As soon as I finished eating, I said goodbye. I didn't even know where the front door was. The strange guy didn't bother to follow me or show me the way out.
Once I stepped outside, I realized I definitely wasn't at a hotel. It was a condo, and a luxury one at that. I didn't run into anyone besides the doorman.
What kind of person lives like this, so far above my reality?
The guy was hot, rich, and gave off a gangster vibe. Not because of the tattoos. It was the way he talked. Cold. Precise. Untouchable. Either he was a hell of a liar, or someone completely put together.
Definitely someone intriguing. But I have no intention of seeing him again.