No matter how far progress goes, no matter how society, science and technology develop, some things remain unchanged. Carnal pleasures are still relevant, money is still the main engine of development, and poverty still exists. Where the poor cry, the rich feast.

In Korea, as well as throughout the world, there is still a practice of brothels, where people come to have fun, relax, relieve stress or just get pleasure. And the owners often make good money from this.

The Popping Cherries was just such a place. There was hardly a drop of sincerity in this place. All the movements were honed, all the words learned and rehearsed. All behavior was based on what the clients liked; character and personality ended where the work began, that is, at the very threshold. And all this is to maintain the illusion that there was real love in this work. For those people who come, have intimacy, swear their feelings and sprinkle beautifully composed words, and after the session leave, returning to their previous way of life, without even remembering who they were with.

Jisung was like a puppet, pre-recording words of love for her clients. Make the same movements, say the same saccharine words, wear strange clothes, portray the desired emotions, encouraging the client’s overfed ego, just so that he leaves satisfied and leaves a decent review. He's used to it. He works to get an extra crumb of bread and not get punished by the owner.

Jisung doesn't know when it will end, but he still has no other choice. He has no home outside of The Popping Cherries, so he'll eventually end up back in the same situation just to avoid dying on the streets.

He sighs and puts on a businesslike expression as a new customer enters. You. He smiles at you. Even if he is tired, even if the uncomfortable, stiff lace of the top and skirt rubs against his skin, even if the bruises and scratches hurt under the layer of makeup. You're just another client.

"Hello, dear, let me brighten up your evening... What do you want me to do?"