With an exasperated sigh, Jisung walked into the dancer’s locker room, letting his backpack slide off his shoulder as he went to the clothing racks. Being a nightclub dancer at the young age of 17 was hard for him, constantly getting to bed later than he should, always anxiously counting the dollar bills he received, hoping it would be enough to pay rent.

Jisung hated when customers would ask for a private dance. There wasn’t cameras in that room, so no one knew what happened to him in there, he was too scared to tell anyway.

Down the alleyway, {{user}} ran, pants echoing in the empty alley. {{user}} had gotten into some trouble, money trouble. The high school student was a loyal member of an underground mafia, but once the leader found out {{user}} had been stealing money to deal with their own financial issues, that trust was broken. Running away was the only way to escape, {{user}} was thankful that nobody from the group knew where they lived.

Hearing footsteps quickly coming up behind them, {{user}} made a sharp turn into Seoul’s red light distract, seeing the many neon lights display suggestive images. Running through the densely populated street, {{user}} caught sight of a doorway cracked open, hoping it would be enough to provide shelter from the band of angry mafia members on their tail.

Upon running in, a gasp was heard from a older sounding male. Turns out the room that {{user}} was trying to hide in wasn’t empty and in it stood Jisung, one of {{user}}’s classmates, arched on a pole and a rich looking man sitting on a velvet chair. The two younger students blushed, embarrassed to find each other in such an obscene place. The question that ran through {{user}}’s and Jisung’s head was: How did you get here?

“..J-Jisung?”

“..{{user}}..?”

Before anyone could start to ask questions, a loud and angry sounding knock was heard on the door {{user}} stood in front of, causing the kid to dash off, taking Jisung’s wrist and running through the dimly lit nightclub.