She covers up her lies with lies
Title: She covers up her lies with lies
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Chaerin/Top
Length: 2,607
Genre: AU
Summary: She's different. He's captivated.
Author's Note:Written for the sky is the limit all or nothing contest.
Cards: +Phrase: “You are such a liar.” +Prompt: “Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.” - Leo Buscaglia
Table Cards Used: Prompt-“Stay close to anything that makes you glad you are alive.” Hafiz; Prompt-“I didn't know it was possible to simultaneously hate and ache for someone.”― Stephanie Perkins; Ending-someone dies
His fingers worried away at a string hanging frayed at the end of his jacket. He felt his brows furrowed and his bow shaped lips pursed. He'd only bought this suit tailor made last week and this was the first time he had worn it. He'd have to talk to the store manager the next time he went shopping there.
He gave his arm a pinch berating himself for thinking of his clothes at a time like this.
Lights flickered in and out covering the small club in dark shadows. The music started, a light tinkling bell followed by a heartbeat like bass, it sent the shadows rolling and writhing around the stage in front of him.
A spot light trained onto the red curtain in his view and he licked his lips; slight nervousness and excitement filling his body.
This wasn’t his first time here. He sat in this same place, to the right, second seat in, close to the stage but not too close, for the past six weeks. It allowed him to watch, hidden by the shadows, but with a view that let him see everything.
He always feared he'd be caught by one of his business associates but he figured they'd both be able to keep one another’s secrets.
His fingers clasp around his already empty glass of beer. He peers inside, the dregs of some cheap yellowish drought swirl around the bottom, before he glances up hearing the cheers and vulgar whistles around him.
Eyes train on the center stage, a black stocking encased leg with a red tipped heel pokes from behind the curtain, followed by a hip sheathed in some leather ensemble, that slinks forward. And then the music shifts to some dark beat of a thing and his heart seems to beat in rhythm with it.
He's fascinated by the pearlescent expanse of skin and curve that shows on her tonight. He always loves when she wears black leather; it hugs her in a way that accentuates her already ample body.
She slinks forward all lithe muscle and dangerous beauty. A black mask covers her eyes drawing his own straight to the dark depths. She's so beautiful without even trying. And the sway of her hips and the way her body slides along the pole, it captivates him in a way no high end hooker or debutante has ever captivated him.
Choi Seunghyun craved power. It got him off more times than not. That's why he was a CEO, that's why he drove a Bugatti Veyron, and that's why he sat there tonight, like most Fridays, because he could feel the power emanating from the now writhing body in front of him. She moved with such grace and control knowing just the way to draw whistles and cheers from the men. They were all her puppets shoveling over whole paychecks if she wanted it. She had a control he envied and manipulation he craved.
She was dangerous in a way he was not and he so wanted to have her, all of her, in any way he could get. She glides forward, in heels sharp as knives, and slides down on knees in front of the many men that had come to watch her. Lips painted a cherry red brush across some awe struck face and then she’s back up with the grace of a feline, slinking away towards the other side of the stage while collecting fifties and hundreds along the way―her performances were never cheap (for this type of establishment)―her eyes meet his in one quick instant--they’re full of fire and mischievousness--and he watches her lips curve into a half smirk. She’s seen him before, maybe not every time he’s been there, but she knows he tips generously but never while she is performing. He leaves the money with the manager along with a single coral rose.
Something in the way her body moves tonight warns him that she isn’t going to follow the little silent agreement they had made. A leather bustier falls to the ground and although he’s captivated by the milky whiteness of her chest he can’t help but continue to look at her eyes framed by the mask.
She makes it to his table and all but crawls across. If any other girl attempted that move they'd look ridiculous but she could pull it off in a way that made more than a few men's pants tent.
A petite ring covered hand reaches forward and grabs his tie pulling his body forward until her lips hover just above his.
He stares straight into her eyes, their breaths mingling, and she flicks her tongue out brushing his lips. And just like that she has him hooked. He leans forward and she leans back, that wicked grin of hers staying on her face as she slinks off his table, tight laced heels clinking as she walks away, hips swaying knowing just what she could do from the back.
He watches her-eyes rapt the rest of the night-and when the last of the ogling men have left he walks to the manager ready to give his money and the flower. Instead he ushers Seunghyun past the curtains he’s often watched CL slip behind-even her stage name interested him-and toward the door marked with her name. The manager gives two sharp knocks to the door before opening it for him.
Seunghyun steps forward and is met with pensive eyes. The door shuts behind him but he hardly registers the sound. CL’s face looking back from the mirror, now makeup free and still just as beautiful, watches him with the wariness a lion would show to something it has yet to figure out if it was dangerous. But a lioness was scared of nothing and he could see neither was she.
“I decided to see who my lovely flower giver was.” She stands with fluid movement and turns, her stage mask back in place. “Care to tell me your name?” She stalks forward, a hand reaching out to brush against his wrist.
“Tell me yours first.”
An amused grin meets his gaze and she rises up on her toes to whisper near his ear, all breathy and seductive, “I asked you first.”
Seunghyun shivers despite himself and reaches a hand out to grab at her waist. A hand sliding upwards he holds her like he might dance with her.
Her fingers slide down his chest and he’s trapped by her gaze.
“I’m Seunghyun.” He’s never one to be intimidated but something about her makes him weak. He hates weakness; it's the surest way to lose everything.
She rises up on her tiptoes and leaves a kiss to his cheek, leaving behind a perfect imprint of cherry rose lips.
“Thank you Seunghyun. I hope to see you again.”
Before he has time to protest, he’s ushered out from her room.
“Wait, your name?”
“Next time.” Her smile is angelic but her eyes speak of seduction.
He leaves the strip club and wanders home too caught up in thinking of cherry lips and cat shaped eyes to do any work or sleep.
***
He sits at his desk working on depositions that have to be sent in by tonight. His migraine presses heavily against his skull, a steady pounding that seems to get worse after every line he reads and types up.
He would normally have his assistants handle this but, since the case is far too important and he doesn’t trust anyone to do it perfectly, he toils away.
His mind is on the clock though. It is just after eight and he knows CL is preparing for the first of many performances tonight. He wonders if she’ll notice he isn’t there. Ever since their last encounter he'd gone and met up with her in her dressing room and they would end up talking or fucking-mostly both.
Slowly he found out things about her and told her things about himself he’d never told anyone. Her name was Lee Chaerin and she was a graduate student who needed quick money. At first she was only waitressing there but eventually realized she’d make a lot more stripping. The first few times, she said, had left her feeling disgusting and used but after a while it was a routine. Seunghyun always listened to her raptly. He found she was most talkative after he paid her. While he knew she could be fabricating everything he believed she was telling him the truth. He hoped she was.
She told him she hardly ever slept with patrons but something about his smoky eyes peering at her from the crowd made him an exception. And at the sudden trust he found himself telling her of his childhood-of locked doors and silence. He told her of the attic where his mother was housed. Her mental illness was too severe for the polite society of his father, how he would visit her up there and listen to her ramblings of witches and fairies, and of the time she almost killed him because he was a changeling of folklore.
How he was shipped off to some boarding school because his father didn’t have the time or patience to take care of a child that “could possess the same manifestations of the mother.” And how he lived off of antipsychotics-Zyprexa, Clozaril, Seroquel-and work. Aside from his family no one else knew of his past or current mental state, except her. She took it all, running her fingers through his damp hair as they lay in a messy state on her dressing room couch, and leaving kisses along his face.
She would whisper everything he longed to hear, sweet little words of love and care, and he would pay her afterwards. And as he’d leave she would look at him with a soft smile before closing the door to prepare for another show.
Seunghyun realizes he’s been staring at his screen for too long. Packing up he leaves the unfinished deposition and heads to the one place he’s wanted all night.
***
When he arrives at the club he finds out Chaerin is late for her show. He is worried. He’s able to make it back to her room to wait-the manager knowing the deal between them both. He waits on the sofa and looks around, for the first time taking in small details of the room. He peers at some photos of Chaerin attached to her vanity mirror. She looks happy, her arms slung around several girls in the picture. They all look like college students. Several photos down he notices a few of her with some man. He’s smaller than Seunghyun, with white-blonde hair and a gummy smile he dislikes immediately. Chaerin is grinning in a way Seunghyun has never seen.
She looks like she’s in love.
Seunghyun is struck by this. He knew she had a life outside of the club, a normal life. He knew she probably had friends but he didn’t guess that she would have a boyfriend. Especially not considering what they did together.
He’s suddenly filled with a rage. It rips through him and he tears the picture from the mirror. As he does Chaerin stumbles in looking slightly harried.
Her eyes fall to the strips of ripped up paper. She looks at him worried but slightly detached. Her mouth is red and kiss swollen and he can see the hair on her head is tangled.
“What are you doing here?” He hears the slightly accusing tone in her voice. He didn’t like it one bit. He had given her everything of himself. Told her things, gifted her things, gave her his heart and here she was looking like some back alley tramp. He was beyond livid and maybe some part of his brain knew he shouldn’t have skipped a day of his medication because he was seeing her as an enemy, an enemy he loved, but needed to destroy-like she was doing to his heart and mind right then.
“I love you.” He spit it out like it was venom. And it was bitter and dirty on his tongue while she stood there covered in lies. His mind was racing and the voices were shrieking for him to do something.
"You are such a liar!” Suddenly he watches her explode on him. Her face mirrored the anger he felt towards her and the sane part of his mind wondered if she wasn’t speaking to him but to every other man whoever used her.
“I know what game you're playing. Renting a condo for me, buying my clothes, you're trying to buy me out like some streetwalker, you're just hiding it behind an innocent smile and a credit card. You want me for sex and don't deny it. I've seen the way you look at me. I'm a prize to be won for you because you have some complex about winning everything. You just want to dominate me. But guess what I know, as soon as the novelty of "winning" me wears off you'll kick me to the curb like used trash."
And now she's whispering, her face showing a lifetime of hurt and defeat "But I won't let you, I can't. You already have enough power over me and I'm tired of being used like that."
She says the last part with a laugh that sounds as bitter and hollow as he feels "Besides there's nothing left to use."
He wants to tell her that’s not it. He’s not using her. He needs her or a part of her because she keeps him sane when he misses a day of meds. She’s the reason he doesn’t see or hear things that are not there. And he wants to hold her right then, tell her to stay with him forever, make her see she’s more than just this shitty bar.
But his mind won’t let him, not when the white-blonde guy with the gummy smile walks through the door. It happens all too fast and he watches it from a spot in the corner of the room. He watches as his body barrels toward the door and grabs the pale, weak neck of the smaller man. He watches as his fingers-are they his fingers?-squeeze, and squeeze, and squeeze until he’s holding a limp body in his hands. He barely noticed the smaller man grab at his arm and claw, or Chaerin’s ear curdling screams of stop, stop, stop! But the voices in his head tell him she's a liar. She's always lied. Will always lie. She needs to stop lying. They're shrieking with such a blood thirsty cry he just wants them to stop!
When he-his body-drops the enemy, he turns on the reason for it all. He looks at a makeup smeared face and eyes filled with terror and there’s a second where he flicks his eyes to the corner to look at himself, almost asking if it was okay, he sees a nod-feels it because his body is nodding-and his mind and body meld into one again. The voices in his head scream out at him to show her he loves her. Show her he can’t live without her and she’s not allowed to live without him.
So he does (her skin has never felt so soft to him, her eyes never held so much twinkle, god, he loves her with everything he has)
Once it’s over his body shakes and he blinks back into reality. The voices sing a song of exaltation.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Chaerin/Top
Length: 2,607
Genre: AU
Summary: She's different. He's captivated.
Author's Note:Written for the sky is the limit all or nothing contest.
Cards: +Phrase: “You are such a liar.” +Prompt: “Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.” - Leo Buscaglia
Table Cards Used: Prompt-“Stay close to anything that makes you glad you are alive.” Hafiz; Prompt-“I didn't know it was possible to simultaneously hate and ache for someone.”― Stephanie Perkins; Ending-someone dies
His fingers worried away at a string hanging frayed at the end of his jacket. He felt his brows furrowed and his bow shaped lips pursed. He'd only bought this suit tailor made last week and this was the first time he had worn it. He'd have to talk to the store manager the next time he went shopping there.
He gave his arm a pinch berating himself for thinking of his clothes at a time like this.
Lights flickered in and out covering the small club in dark shadows. The music started, a light tinkling bell followed by a heartbeat like bass, it sent the shadows rolling and writhing around the stage in front of him.
A spot light trained onto the red curtain in his view and he licked his lips; slight nervousness and excitement filling his body.
This wasn’t his first time here. He sat in this same place, to the right, second seat in, close to the stage but not too close, for the past six weeks. It allowed him to watch, hidden by the shadows, but with a view that let him see everything.
He always feared he'd be caught by one of his business associates but he figured they'd both be able to keep one another’s secrets.
His fingers clasp around his already empty glass of beer. He peers inside, the dregs of some cheap yellowish drought swirl around the bottom, before he glances up hearing the cheers and vulgar whistles around him.
Eyes train on the center stage, a black stocking encased leg with a red tipped heel pokes from behind the curtain, followed by a hip sheathed in some leather ensemble, that slinks forward. And then the music shifts to some dark beat of a thing and his heart seems to beat in rhythm with it.
He's fascinated by the pearlescent expanse of skin and curve that shows on her tonight. He always loves when she wears black leather; it hugs her in a way that accentuates her already ample body.
She slinks forward all lithe muscle and dangerous beauty. A black mask covers her eyes drawing his own straight to the dark depths. She's so beautiful without even trying. And the sway of her hips and the way her body slides along the pole, it captivates him in a way no high end hooker or debutante has ever captivated him.
Choi Seunghyun craved power. It got him off more times than not. That's why he was a CEO, that's why he drove a Bugatti Veyron, and that's why he sat there tonight, like most Fridays, because he could feel the power emanating from the now writhing body in front of him. She moved with such grace and control knowing just the way to draw whistles and cheers from the men. They were all her puppets shoveling over whole paychecks if she wanted it. She had a control he envied and manipulation he craved.
She was dangerous in a way he was not and he so wanted to have her, all of her, in any way he could get. She glides forward, in heels sharp as knives, and slides down on knees in front of the many men that had come to watch her. Lips painted a cherry red brush across some awe struck face and then she’s back up with the grace of a feline, slinking away towards the other side of the stage while collecting fifties and hundreds along the way―her performances were never cheap (for this type of establishment)―her eyes meet his in one quick instant--they’re full of fire and mischievousness--and he watches her lips curve into a half smirk. She’s seen him before, maybe not every time he’s been there, but she knows he tips generously but never while she is performing. He leaves the money with the manager along with a single coral rose.
Something in the way her body moves tonight warns him that she isn’t going to follow the little silent agreement they had made. A leather bustier falls to the ground and although he’s captivated by the milky whiteness of her chest he can’t help but continue to look at her eyes framed by the mask.
She makes it to his table and all but crawls across. If any other girl attempted that move they'd look ridiculous but she could pull it off in a way that made more than a few men's pants tent.
A petite ring covered hand reaches forward and grabs his tie pulling his body forward until her lips hover just above his.
He stares straight into her eyes, their breaths mingling, and she flicks her tongue out brushing his lips. And just like that she has him hooked. He leans forward and she leans back, that wicked grin of hers staying on her face as she slinks off his table, tight laced heels clinking as she walks away, hips swaying knowing just what she could do from the back.
He watches her-eyes rapt the rest of the night-and when the last of the ogling men have left he walks to the manager ready to give his money and the flower. Instead he ushers Seunghyun past the curtains he’s often watched CL slip behind-even her stage name interested him-and toward the door marked with her name. The manager gives two sharp knocks to the door before opening it for him.
Seunghyun steps forward and is met with pensive eyes. The door shuts behind him but he hardly registers the sound. CL’s face looking back from the mirror, now makeup free and still just as beautiful, watches him with the wariness a lion would show to something it has yet to figure out if it was dangerous. But a lioness was scared of nothing and he could see neither was she.
“I decided to see who my lovely flower giver was.” She stands with fluid movement and turns, her stage mask back in place. “Care to tell me your name?” She stalks forward, a hand reaching out to brush against his wrist.
“Tell me yours first.”
An amused grin meets his gaze and she rises up on her toes to whisper near his ear, all breathy and seductive, “I asked you first.”
Seunghyun shivers despite himself and reaches a hand out to grab at her waist. A hand sliding upwards he holds her like he might dance with her.
Her fingers slide down his chest and he’s trapped by her gaze.
“I’m Seunghyun.” He’s never one to be intimidated but something about her makes him weak. He hates weakness; it's the surest way to lose everything.
She rises up on her tiptoes and leaves a kiss to his cheek, leaving behind a perfect imprint of cherry rose lips.
“Thank you Seunghyun. I hope to see you again.”
Before he has time to protest, he’s ushered out from her room.
“Wait, your name?”
“Next time.” Her smile is angelic but her eyes speak of seduction.
He leaves the strip club and wanders home too caught up in thinking of cherry lips and cat shaped eyes to do any work or sleep.
***
He sits at his desk working on depositions that have to be sent in by tonight. His migraine presses heavily against his skull, a steady pounding that seems to get worse after every line he reads and types up.
He would normally have his assistants handle this but, since the case is far too important and he doesn’t trust anyone to do it perfectly, he toils away.
His mind is on the clock though. It is just after eight and he knows CL is preparing for the first of many performances tonight. He wonders if she’ll notice he isn’t there. Ever since their last encounter he'd gone and met up with her in her dressing room and they would end up talking or fucking-mostly both.
Slowly he found out things about her and told her things about himself he’d never told anyone. Her name was Lee Chaerin and she was a graduate student who needed quick money. At first she was only waitressing there but eventually realized she’d make a lot more stripping. The first few times, she said, had left her feeling disgusting and used but after a while it was a routine. Seunghyun always listened to her raptly. He found she was most talkative after he paid her. While he knew she could be fabricating everything he believed she was telling him the truth. He hoped she was.
She told him she hardly ever slept with patrons but something about his smoky eyes peering at her from the crowd made him an exception. And at the sudden trust he found himself telling her of his childhood-of locked doors and silence. He told her of the attic where his mother was housed. Her mental illness was too severe for the polite society of his father, how he would visit her up there and listen to her ramblings of witches and fairies, and of the time she almost killed him because he was a changeling of folklore.
How he was shipped off to some boarding school because his father didn’t have the time or patience to take care of a child that “could possess the same manifestations of the mother.” And how he lived off of antipsychotics-Zyprexa, Clozaril, Seroquel-and work. Aside from his family no one else knew of his past or current mental state, except her. She took it all, running her fingers through his damp hair as they lay in a messy state on her dressing room couch, and leaving kisses along his face.
She would whisper everything he longed to hear, sweet little words of love and care, and he would pay her afterwards. And as he’d leave she would look at him with a soft smile before closing the door to prepare for another show.
Seunghyun realizes he’s been staring at his screen for too long. Packing up he leaves the unfinished deposition and heads to the one place he’s wanted all night.
***
When he arrives at the club he finds out Chaerin is late for her show. He is worried. He’s able to make it back to her room to wait-the manager knowing the deal between them both. He waits on the sofa and looks around, for the first time taking in small details of the room. He peers at some photos of Chaerin attached to her vanity mirror. She looks happy, her arms slung around several girls in the picture. They all look like college students. Several photos down he notices a few of her with some man. He’s smaller than Seunghyun, with white-blonde hair and a gummy smile he dislikes immediately. Chaerin is grinning in a way Seunghyun has never seen.
She looks like she’s in love.
Seunghyun is struck by this. He knew she had a life outside of the club, a normal life. He knew she probably had friends but he didn’t guess that she would have a boyfriend. Especially not considering what they did together.
He’s suddenly filled with a rage. It rips through him and he tears the picture from the mirror. As he does Chaerin stumbles in looking slightly harried.
Her eyes fall to the strips of ripped up paper. She looks at him worried but slightly detached. Her mouth is red and kiss swollen and he can see the hair on her head is tangled.
“What are you doing here?” He hears the slightly accusing tone in her voice. He didn’t like it one bit. He had given her everything of himself. Told her things, gifted her things, gave her his heart and here she was looking like some back alley tramp. He was beyond livid and maybe some part of his brain knew he shouldn’t have skipped a day of his medication because he was seeing her as an enemy, an enemy he loved, but needed to destroy-like she was doing to his heart and mind right then.
“I love you.” He spit it out like it was venom. And it was bitter and dirty on his tongue while she stood there covered in lies. His mind was racing and the voices were shrieking for him to do something.
"You are such a liar!” Suddenly he watches her explode on him. Her face mirrored the anger he felt towards her and the sane part of his mind wondered if she wasn’t speaking to him but to every other man whoever used her.
“I know what game you're playing. Renting a condo for me, buying my clothes, you're trying to buy me out like some streetwalker, you're just hiding it behind an innocent smile and a credit card. You want me for sex and don't deny it. I've seen the way you look at me. I'm a prize to be won for you because you have some complex about winning everything. You just want to dominate me. But guess what I know, as soon as the novelty of "winning" me wears off you'll kick me to the curb like used trash."
And now she's whispering, her face showing a lifetime of hurt and defeat "But I won't let you, I can't. You already have enough power over me and I'm tired of being used like that."
She says the last part with a laugh that sounds as bitter and hollow as he feels "Besides there's nothing left to use."
He wants to tell her that’s not it. He’s not using her. He needs her or a part of her because she keeps him sane when he misses a day of meds. She’s the reason he doesn’t see or hear things that are not there. And he wants to hold her right then, tell her to stay with him forever, make her see she’s more than just this shitty bar.
But his mind won’t let him, not when the white-blonde guy with the gummy smile walks through the door. It happens all too fast and he watches it from a spot in the corner of the room. He watches as his body barrels toward the door and grabs the pale, weak neck of the smaller man. He watches as his fingers-are they his fingers?-squeeze, and squeeze, and squeeze until he’s holding a limp body in his hands. He barely noticed the smaller man grab at his arm and claw, or Chaerin’s ear curdling screams of stop, stop, stop! But the voices in his head tell him she's a liar. She's always lied. Will always lie. She needs to stop lying. They're shrieking with such a blood thirsty cry he just wants them to stop!
When he-his body-drops the enemy, he turns on the reason for it all. He looks at a makeup smeared face and eyes filled with terror and there’s a second where he flicks his eyes to the corner to look at himself, almost asking if it was okay, he sees a nod-feels it because his body is nodding-and his mind and body meld into one again. The voices in his head scream out at him to show her he loves her. Show her he can’t live without her and she’s not allowed to live without him.
So he does (her skin has never felt so soft to him, her eyes never held so much twinkle, god, he loves her with everything he has)
Once it’s over his body shakes and he blinks back into reality. The voices sing a song of exaltation.