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She is not dressed at all for the salon, some of the old women would claim. They would say she was one of those ‘liberal girls’, seeking attention where she’d never get it with the officials. They were nuisances, attracted to the air of smoke and music and alcohol. And like wild dogs, they’d scatter at the first sight of pistols.
Hyuna would say she just wanted a trim.
“Hia,” she said, a smile stretching her rich brown lips. “Do whatever you’d like with me.”
The beautician, Hia, did not even bother draping fabric over her, in fear of damaging the intricate beads that dangled from her shoulders. She did her work quickly. It was nearly evening, after all.
“You look fabulous tonight,” Hia told her. “Dressing up for someone, perhaps?”
“Perhaps it’s you I’m dressing up for.”
“Compliments don’t pay the salon fee, my darling.”
Lithe fingers made Hyuna’s dark hair up into waves against her cheeks and neck, applying gel on the strands. Hyuna’s conversation was everyone’s conversation, and soon, some of the girls had joined in speaking with her and Hia, the chatter littered with laughter.
“I think they’d look great on you.” One of the girls stood up from her chair, giving Hia a pouch of beads. “Do her hair with them, will you?”
The beautician went on decorating Hyuna’s hair with beads. They almost looked like pearls, the salon lights bouncing off them against the radiant waves.
Once Hia was pleased with her work, she stepped back and let Hyuna admire it.
“Magic as always.”
“It’s as I said. Compliments don’t pay the fees,” Hia said, holding out her palm.
Hyuna turned to the girl who gave her the beads, gesturing for her to come over. “Look, you do her hair and I’ll pay for the both of us. And then perhaps my drinks could be on you tonight?”
The girl followed them to get her hair rinsed, Hia getting her situated. The beautician looked at her pointedly. “Might as well have paid for only one of you. Off you go.”
It was darker where the sinks were. Three older ladies were getting their scalp massages, fortunately.
Hyuna made her way to the door labelled ‘for staff only’. “Thank you kindly,” she said with a grin, and off she went as she was told to.
It was the entrance to a secret speakeasy, and the night had only just begun.
“There you are!” Mizi greeted, more thankful to see her than usual. She shot the man she’d untangled herself from a dirty look. “They are already handsy, and the men had just handed the first round of drinks.”
Hyuna took a glass, taking a sip without question. “You’re the only one here who doesn’t like when they do.”
“Can they not see my ring?”
Hyuna laughed. “I’m sure they do.”
Mizi’s dress of the night was much different from Hyuna’s short, almost boyish cut, bold and red like every other aspect of her. The younger’s was knee-length and sleeveless, the material a silky and shiny pale white. She was the only flapper with dyed hair, bright pink and curled around a white headband.
“Sua mixed the drinks with me tonight,” Mizi said, with that glazed-over look that said the girls did more than just mix drinks while Hyuna was gone. Sua didn’t look fit for behind the counter, with her dress decorated with long feathers, the deep color matching her jet-black hair.
“It’s good! She should mix the drinks all the time,” Hyuna suggested, giving Mizi a nudge. “You get all angry when she’s dancing anyway.”
“I know she hates it as much as I do,,” Mizi argued, leading them to the counter. “It’s annoying to have everyone look. Especially when they eye her like they own her.”
“Start getting used to it,” Hyuna teased.
Mizi frowned. “I will when I die.”
The venue was starting to fill out, the air charged with a pleasant buzz from the drinks they’d handed out. Hyuna nodded to the ensemble, the relaxed rhythm slowly turning more upbeat at her command. The saxophonist took the lead, giving the girls a wink.
“Come on, mademoiselle, let’s dance!”
Mizi grabbed Sua’s hand from behind the counter, eyeing Hyuna as if to prove something, and making her way to the dance floor. Hers and Sua’s dances were always together, the white and black swan, the night and day. Though it seems they’d switched colors for tonight.
Mizi laughed as they did, triumphant.
Hyuna stayed to the side for a while, watching them perform. She’d managed to snag a hefty sack of cash from the last time she’d gambled instead of dancing like she probably should, and she debated trying again, already eyeing the room at the far end of the venue.
“Hyuna!” One of the men walked up to her, a harsh scar running up from the left side of his forehead to the right side of his chin, right across his nose. He pulled her in, a wide grin on his lips as he danced along to the music.
Isaac was her gambling buddy, a greedy one at that. He was the one who’d brought her to the speakeasy for the first time. He was the only one bold and brash like her, despite how those with fairer skin stared and gaped.
Down here was where people like her and Isaac reigned.
Hyuna couldn’t help but grin right back.
“Your pockets empty again?” she asked. “Drank too much?”
“Definitely drank too much,” he said. “Miracle I haven’t slurred my tongue yet.”
He held her waist, spinning her around on her heel. His smile was lopsided, but Hyuna could only remember why he’d had to drag her out here in the first place. “He used to slur his tongue all the time, didn’t he?”
‘Drink your sorrows away,’ Isaac had told her.
“Still talking about Hyunwoo,” she muttered.
“He looks a little like my date tonight, with the brown hair and…” he trailed off, as if only registering what he’d told her. “God, my date!”
“Go on. I’ll be fine,” Hyuna said with a laugh, shoving him off.
“You always say you are.” Isaac squeezed her shoulder before parting, and Hyuna finally joined Mizi and Sua at the dancefloor. Half the guests tonight had decided the same, spinning and twirling around.
It smelled a lot like alcohol, the beads on the dresses like chimes under the saxophone and piano ensemble.
She grabbed a drink from one of the stands, downing it in one and taking another. Isaac didn’t know it, how Hyuna thought “drinking her sorrows away” was the easiest part. The hardest is always facing the truth, away from these dim lights and loud dances.
Her head spun after the sixth drink, faces of people she’d spun and twirled all blurring together. God, she’d needed this. Her throat was hoarse from laughing.
She managed to get someone to light her smoke, which was a feat to even hold between her unsteady fingers. She had to lean against the bar counter to stop them from shaking, just to put the cigarette to her lips.
She took a long drag, shutting her eyes as the smoke filled her lungs.
And even with the alcohol in her brain, her entire body thrumming and everything blurring into one, she longed for...
“Were you waiting for me?”
Her eyes flitted open, and she really wished she hadn’t.
Right. She still longed for him.
It was long since she’d actually seen Luka in person. Why he decided to show his face with the amount of people here at all, well, she could rarely decipher how his mind worked.
She scoffed. “Your self-assurance is so irritating.”
“Don’t be like that.” He took a seat on the bar stool, the leverage making them almost the same height now. He took the cigarette from her fingers, wiping the lipstick from where her mouth had been. “After all, I came here for you.”
Hyuna’s gaze dropped to the faint rouge on his fingertips, watching as he slowly lifted them to his lips, spreading the color against the skin. He darted his tongue out, as if to taste her.
She averted her eyes, opting to stare at her reflection on the wall mirrors. Their reflection, really. Well, his. He was a model for a reason, she supposed, carrying himself with an elegance that could only parallel her confidence. Many would mistake his stride for arrogance, but Hyuna could tell he was just naïve.
And right now, his smile was almost childish.
She gave him a sidelong glance. “Is that supposed to flatter me?”
“If you’re flattered now, then, perhaps it is,” Luka said. He had a shred of decency left, smearing the lipstick on the pocket of his suit. “We’ve hardly seen each other these past weeks.”
“For good reason,” Hyuna quipped without missing a beat. “You suffocate me.”
From where she was staring at the mirror, she could see how his smile dropped. He was pouting. She always managed to hurt him with her words somehow, now even more so, with her so pathetically inebriated.
Her chest ached despite herself. She’d known him since they were young, seen the way he was raised. They had nearly the same childhood. The only difference between them was she had her brother to get her through it.
Luka only had her.
“You know I don’t mean it,” she muttered to make up for herself. “I drank a lot again.”
“You did? You always drink without me.”
“You don’t drink.”
"I might have to start, if it's to see you more often."
Two fingers lifted her chin, his thumb running over her lower lip. He slid her cigarette back where it had been, letting her take another deep inhale, the puff of air from her lips ending up in his mouth.
He put out the cigarette, tossing it to an ashtray mindlessly as he kissed her.
His kisses were always frantic. He’d always made himself look like the clumsy one, when really, it was Hyuna who felt like everyone was slipping from her fingertips.
She had to be loud. Her friends wouldn’t be her friends if she wasn’t inviting and warm and energetic. Her mind always worked to find words to say, searching people to find compliments to give and stories to say.
But if they didn’t leave by choice, they’d leave by death. Her brother was just proof of that.
So she kissed back, tangling her shaky fingers through his hair. Their cheeks were both flushed, and while Hyuna’s was from the alcohol, she didn’t know why Luka was blushing. Didn't even bother to consider the implications of it.
He was always there for her to go back to. And she could never really let go of him.
She pulled back first, like she always did.
“You can’t keep doing that where everyone can see,” she said under her breath. “You want us to have a scandal?”
“Your face is on the papers more than mine is,” he said.
Hyuna exhaled. “That’s exactly why we have to stop doing these things.”
Luka hopped off his seat, dragging them to the gambling corner. The seats were all empty for tonight.
“Would you still like to stop?” He pulled her in for another kiss, just as desperate as the last.
Always so assured that Hyuna would kiss him back, would indulge herself in him. It didn't help that they didn't see each other often, contrary to what she'd like to believe. It only made her more insatiable, him more addicted.
Like clockwork, she pulled his waist against hers, seeking warmth subconsciously. He'd succeeded once more. Why was it that he only showed up when Hyuna was at her lowest? She gripped tightly at his hips. His suit was getting wrinkled, but so was her dress, so it was only fair. She sighed into the kiss this time, letting his arms wrap around her.
“No, god, no,” she muttered against his lips. Never stop. “You’re ruining me, Luka.”
“Yes,” he whispered, liking the sound of that with the way his lips curved into a wide grin. His pale cheeks had gone all red and pretty, and Hyuna could only groan in defeat.
He was still her weakness, after all this time.
That night, her chest felt heavy. There was that sinking feeling again, whenever she woke up in his bed in the middle of the night.
She could hear him snoring softly from where he lay down beside her, and her heart tore.
She picked up her clothes and quietly put them back on, placing her hair accessories in her pocket. She wanted to lay back down, lay back beside him and have him wrap her arms around her again.
Still, she slipped out of the room, not letting herself turn back around. Not letting herself give in. She could indulge in every vice in the world, but not this one. Not him.
How could she let herself love when she was still grieving?