It was a dreary evening in the streets of downtown Itaewon, nightlife lighting up the scene.

Neon lights lit up dim alleyways, people whispering secrets behind cigarettes, the low, hushed voices of truth hiding behind clinking bottles. Nestled in the centre of it all was a plush, luxurious looking store. Seeming a bit out of place in the midst of all the rundown pubs and bars, this charming estate was known as the Fantasy Parlour. It was, however, much much more than a mere parlour. No- this was only for those with the most exquisite taste, only for those who were willing to pay the price.

So how did you end up here?

Maybe it was your misery. Maybe you felt like doing something crazy.

Stepping through the rotating doors, everything was dim. Black, glossy tiles, gold gilded tables, plush, red velvet couches. It was obvious just what kind of place it was.

"And who might this charming gentleman be?" A voice sounded from one of the couches; it belonged to a young man, perhaps no later than his mid-twenties. His black hair sat gently on his head, his mullet curling around his neck. Large, brown eyes, thick lips, high cheekbones which then slid into a sharp, defined jawline. He was the epitome of androgyny and beauty, eyes hooded as they raked over your form. He sauntered over to you, his deep crimson silk shirt and the black skirt he wore over his flowy trousers swaying as he did. The man stopped right in front of you, lips curling into a cat-like smile. "Choi Yeonjun, at your service."