Jiwon followed the man into the studio lined with red silk. As he approached the set, every light that had been off flickered on at once. They were so bright, he couldn’t keep his eyes open.
“Please undress in the changing room.”
Horn-Rimd Glasses said.
Squinting, Jiwon glanced around for the changing room.
“Over there.”
Horn-Rimd Glasses pointed to one part of the wall, his voice tinged with irritation. A white door sat flush against a white wall.
Would it kill you to mark it or sothing? Like anyone would notice that.
Muttering silently, Jiwon hurried toward the door, shielding his eyes from the blinding lights.
Inside, the changing room was covered wall-to-wall in full-length mirrors. In the upper left corner, there was a hanger for jackets and shirts, and a pants hanger as well. And a decorative party mask.
The mask was designed to cover his eyes and nose. It wasn’t cheap or flimsy—it was actually quite well-made.
Jiwon toyed with it for a mont, then reminded himself this wasn’t the ti to stand around gawking. He stripped quickly. He hung his jacket and shirt neatly on the hanger, then folded his pants, underwear, and socks into a corner of the room.
Just before stepping out, he put on the mask and looked at his naked reflection in the mirror.
Aside from the surgical scars running from his right elbow to below the wrist and along the pinky, his skin was pale and smooth overall. He was a little on the lean side, but the kind of everyday muscle he’d built up from physical labor gave him a decently shaped body.
The real problem was his dick.
It wasn’t freakishly big or anything, but he used to be proud of it—people had even complinted it once or twice. Now, in place of that once-perfect dick, there was just a grotesque hunk of flesh. It still got hard, it still worked, but the shape and size were such that no one would ever get turned on by it.
Even when he tried to look away, the mirrors on all sides made it impossible to avoid seeing it.
Jiwon clenched his eyes shut. He took a deep breath and opened the door.
By the ti he stepped out, staff had gathered in the studio—though there were only three of them, including Horn-Rimd Glasses. One held a cara, the other fidgeted with a tape asure. Both wore black masks and black latex gloves.
Horn-Rimd Glasses was staring down at a large monitor marked with an apple logo.
Because everyone, including Jiwon, had on masks, standing naked in front of strange n didn’t feel all that awkward.
Jiwon moved to where the caraman instructed.
“Applicant, stand in the center.”
The caraman called out in a dull voice.
Jiwon walked to the middle, self-conscious about the thing dangling between his legs.
The mont he stood at attention, the flash went off.
“Turn around.”
At the caraman’s command, Jiwon turned his back.
Flash again.
“Good. Face forward again.”
As soon as he turned back around, the assistant stepped in with a asuring tape.
“We’ll asure penis length now.”
The assistant said, moving in and bringing the tape down. The caraman stepped forward to photograph it.
Three consecutive flashes went off as the assistant skillfully positioned the tape.
“Damn, looks like you had a serious accident, huh?”
The caraman muttered with genuine pity.
“Let’s take a look at the testicles.”
At his prompt, the assistant lifted Jiwon’s penis with his gloved hand.
“Okay, let’s see... Balls look just fine. Kinda cute, actually. Fit nice in the hand.”
In the silence of the studio—a kind of silence where the word “stillness” actually fit—the caraman muttered those words like a joke, without even a hint of tension. From his voice, he had to be at least in his 50s.
The assistant asured the testicles next, holding the tape steady while the caraman clicked the shutter.
“Mind spreading your legs a bit? It’s hard to get a good shot of the perineum. Hit it with so light.”
Jiwon, embarrassed, spread his legs.
The assistant ca in with a small light and lifted the balls again.
“Gonna crouch for a second.”
The caraman said, kneeling down in front of Jiwon. The assistant naturally aid the light toward the perineum.
Having soone—or rather, n he’d never t—photograph his dick, balls, and perineum like this was so surreal that Jiwon didn’t even feel anything anymore.
“All right, we’re done with that. Now let’s photograph your butt. Turn around, please.”
At the caraman’s polite direction, Jiwon turned around.
“Wow, nice and tight. Looks like you work out a bit.”
The caraman complinted.
“Small, but solid. Real solid.”
He probably ant it as a complint, but the sha was still Jiwon’s to bear. He felt heat creep up his whole body.
The cara didn’t stop at his ass cheeks. They made sure to spread them open to photograph the crack and anus, too.
“Okay, now we’ll check your body for scars. No need to tense up—we’re just examining you.”
The caraman stepped back.
The assistant, who was short, brought over a small step stool and a mobile light.
“Starting with the crown of the head.”
The assistant said, stepping up on the stool to examine Jiwon’s scalp.
He used his fingers to move the hair around and inspect his scalp. He didn’t forget to lift Jiwon’s bangs and check the shape of his forehead, either. From there, he worked down the neck, shoulders, and spine to the waist.
When he got to Jiwon’s right arm, he called the caraman over, stretched the tape asure along the length of the scar, and had him photograph it.
That sa process continued—every scar Jiwon had, including the leg injury from a traffic accident in 9th grade and even tiny marks that were barely visible anymore, were all docunted.
Even the oldest ones, the kind most people wouldn’t notice unless they looked carefully, the assistant found and had photographed with ticulous care.
The last part was the feet.
“Have a seat on the chair.”
The assistant instructed. Jiwon sat down.
At so point, soone had laid a towel across the seat.
Their thoughtfulness and politeness felt completely out of place in a situation like this.
The assistant examined both of Jiwon’s feet while he sat. Starting from the knees, they moved down to the calves, ankles, and outer ankle bones, then checked the heels and soles, and finally, his toes. Every ti the latex gloves touched his toes, Jiwon flinched slightly.
Of all places, they had to be an erogenous zone. Even in a situation like this, his body reacting on its own embarrassed him.
This is why people say n are all just animals.
He clicked his tongue inwardly.
Sweat trickled down his bare skin, flushed from the hot lights and sha.
Thankfully, the caraman didn’t need to step in anymore.
Just like that, the long photo shoot—almost thirty minutes of it—ca to an end.
As the assistant stood up, the caraman tossed a large towel to Jiwon. Pretending to wipe off sweat, Jiwon quickly covered his crotch. The caraman’s gaze briefly touched his groin, then looked away.
“Good work. You’ve got a nice body.”
The caraman gave him a thumbs-up.
His eyes, visible between the edges of his mask, were smiling.
Jiwon gave a small bow and walked back to the changing room. Even though all he did was pose for photos, his legs felt weak. His whole body was soaked in sweat—not just his body, but even the face under the mask. He yanked it off and used the towel to thoroughly wipe his sweaty face, armpits, and groin. Then he pulled on his underwear, [N O V E L I G H T] followed by his socks.
By the ti he stepped out again in full suit, the studio was completely empty. All the lights were off, the caraman and assistant gone. Only Horn-Rimd Glasses remained, waiting for him.
He placed an envelope on the desk.
“This is the three million won interview fee, as promised.”
Jiwon walked over and picked up the envelope. Inside were sixty 50,000-won bills.
A dry laugh slipped out. His face hadn’t even been exposed thanks to the mask, and all they did was photograph his body. And they paid him three million won for that.
Opportunity.
Suppressing the grin that tried to tug at the corners of his mouth, Jiwon gave Horn-Rimd Glasses a polite bow. He carefully tucked the envelope into the inside pocket of his jacket.
Just as he turned to leave—
“We’ll inform you soon whether or not you’ve passed.”
Horn-Rimd Glasses said.
“Assuming you do, of course... would you be interested in attending a second interview?”
“A second interview?”
He tried to stay calm, but the way he asked ca out a little unsteady.
“Yes. The second interview pays five million won.”
Horn-Rimd Glasses ntioned the amount first. Like he was treating Jiwon as soone who'd jump at the scent of money.
“Excuse ?”
Jiwon was genuinely surprised, but exaggerated his reaction anyway.
“Of course, it’ll be more explicit than today.”
When he said explicit, not a single muscle moved in Horn-Rimd Glasses’ face.
Are they gonna ask to jerk off?
He barely held back the urge to ask and instead replied cautiously, “What do you an by ‘explicit’?”
“It doesn’t involve masturbation or sex, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Horn-Rimd Glasses answered flatly.
No masturbation, no sex, but more explicit?
So maybe they bring in a woman? Then again, if we’re being real about gender here... it’s probably a man.
That was the only explanation Jiwon could co up with.
His anticipation cooled slightly.
“It’ll still be done with masks on, just like today. And there won’t be any nudity.”
The man kept piling on the contradictions.
So: more explicit than today, but no masturbation, no sex, no nudity?
If you want to believe you, at least say sothing believable.
“Would you like to do the second interview?”
Horn-Rimd Glasses asked again. His tone was flat, but the vibe he gave off said: If you say no here, it’s all over.
“...Yes. I’ll do it.”
He answered for now.
Horn-Rimd Glasses nodded. “Understood,” he said. Then added,
“From the mont you leave this office, you are not to speak of today’s interview to anyone.”
There was real weight in his voice for the first ti.
“Not to your family, your lover, your friends—no one. Everyone signs the contract and then conveniently forgets that part.”
Horn-Rimd Glasses gave the faintest smile, but his eyes were sharp. From that look, Jiwon realized he wasn’t the only one who’d done this interview—and that soone else must have broken the confidentiality clause.
He wondered how many more people, like Han with the 3:30 interview, would be going through this sa process.
As soon as he left the conference room, Jiwon glanced around.
Since he was already here, he figured he might as well get a better sense of the office layout, and maybe get a good look at the thug and the monkey-faced guy—he hadn’t had ti to really take them in earlier.
But no one was there.
Just like the caraman and the assistant, they had vanished without a trace. It felt like being haunted by ghosts.
Jiwon stepped out of the empty office and pressed the elevator down button. The doors opened almost imdiately, as if they’d been waiting for him. No one else got in the entire way down.
At the first-floor desk, he returned his access card and received his ID back. The desk staffer handed him a coupon with it.
“This is a coupon for the café over there. There’s no price limit, so you can order any drink you like.”
She added with a friendly smile.
Jiwon was parched, so he went straight to the café and used the coupon. The only drink that ca to mind was an iced Aricano, so that’s what he ordered.
He couldn’t rember the last ti he’d had a proper cup of coffee. The aroma and flavor were so good, he savored every sip on his way to the bus stop.
Even at lunchti, Yongnam City wasn’t busy. The place was full of buildings, but barely any office workers were out grabbing lunch.
A ghost town. Now he understood why the city had earned that nickna. Still, just like every other new city, it would be overflowing with people in no ti.
The sun was hot. Jiwon took off his jacket and boarded the bus in just his shirt. The air-conditioned bus was almost empty as it carried him back to Gangnam.
[Don’t get your hopes up.]
He sent the text and started nodding off.
Reviews
All reviews (0)