Bad Boy

From that day on, my life was never the same again. Things just got stranger and crazier, to the point of pure absurdity. It was almost like some kind of higher power was writing out my life story for their own entertainment, and whoever it was—whether a deity or demon—they were one cruel, sick soul.

I just couldn’t stop replaying everything in my head. Every time I thought about Jennie or saw a photo of her, my body physically ached for more like I was some kind of drug addict. As ridiculous as it sounds, I was having actual withdrawals. Even in my dreams, I saw myself making love to her. It got so bad that I couldn’t even feel aroused by anything else besides the thought of her riding me. Seriously, nothing worked. Not even thinking about hooking up with Sana again could satisfy my undying lust for Jennie. I completely craved her in every way possible, so much that I actually thought I was going to lose my mind and end up in a mental asylum. Reason for admittance: going completely insane over Jennie Kim.

To be honest, I wasn’t even sure what it was about her that I liked so much. Was it the way her tiny body somehow managed to control every part of mine? Or was it her sinful, scrumptious scent and taste that put me in a completely binding love spell? Or maybe it was because of how much she belittled me that made me want to take back my pride so badly. I couldn’t help but wonder. If I had been able to make her mine that day, would I have still felt this way? There was simply no way to know. I just knew that I needed to have her again, even if just once more.

You might think I’m exaggerating, but let me explain to you the level of desperation I felt. 

The coffee shop I work at is located near the center of a large shopping district, and during my lunch break, I would sometimes walk around to get some fresh air. I found myself doing that a lot more often after Sana ghosted me, and even more so after Jennie turned me into a madman. Anyways, there was a small fishcake street cart that I liked to visit for lunch, and right across from it, past the small water fountain, was a little tent run by a famous psychic named Ha Taegoon. He was supposedly known all across Seoul as one of the best, and although I was never the type to believe in divination, I would often see people coming in and out of his tent—usually couples or women in their late 30s.

Well, let’s just say, after that fine Tuesday afternoon, you can officially add my name to the list. Look, I don’t know what got into me, maybe it was destiny calling my name, maybe not, but I was at such a low point in my life that I would have tried anything to get some answers. 

I stepped inside, and to my surprise, it wasn’t as creepy as I expected it to be. There were no candles, no incense, no animal skulls or voodoo dolls, just a guy in his 40s or 50s with an iPad. Was that even a good sign?

“Welcome, welcome...I’ve been awaiting you,” he said, in a mystical voice—despite wearing a Gucci jacket.

Jesus, even the fortune tellers in Gangnam are boujee. 

“Hello,” I said, bowing.

“I sense a very troubled mind,” he said, swiping away on his iPad.

Well, it doesn’t take a mind reader to know that. It’s written all over my face. 

“Take a seat,” he said, smiling widely.

At this point, there was still a small window of opportunity for me to get out—which I should have done if I was smart—but instead, I sat down on the ridiculously comfortable chair while he stared at me—probably thinking of every possible way to take as much of my money as possible.

“What brings you here today?” he asked. “Wait, don’t tell me—you feel lost and your heart is troubled. You’re searching for something that you can’t have.”

“Something like that,” I said, quickly eyeing his rates. 

50,000 won for a quick reading, and 100,000 won for a full reading? What in the world is up with these prices? I’m getting the hell out of here—

“I see that you, much like many before you, have taken note of my premium rates,” he said, taking off his glasses. “But you see, there are some things in life that just don't have a price.”

“I mean, it clearly does,” I said, pointing at his sign.

“Your name is Daniel, right?”

My heart skipped a beat.

Wait, what the hell? How does he know my name?

“You’re not from around here,” he continued. “Curious things are happening to you, and you just can’t explain them. In fact, they’ve been happening all your life.”

Holy shit.

Any skepticism I had suddenly flew right out the window. I don’t know about you, but when someone you never met knows your name and your life story, it’s really difficult to doubt them. 

He held out his hand, and I didn’t know what to do, so I put my right arm on the table for him to read my palm or something, but he didn’t take it.

“Cash or credit card?” he asked, rubbing his fingers together.

Ah yes, of course. 

I pulled out my wallet, but stopped right before opening it. 

Am I really going to pay like 100 bucks just to get a psychic reading? Does this guy really know what he’s talking about or am I playing straight into his hands?

He looked at me carefully, and I couldn’t tell if he was reading my aura, or thinking in his head how he was about to scam another idiot.

“I recommend the full reading,” he said, staring at my wallet. “There’s something especially haunting about your energy, and we need to get to the bottom of it right away.”

“What’s the difference between the quick reading and the full one?” I asked, pulling my debit card out.

“50,000 won.”

“No, I mean—”

“Only one of them will give you what you’re looking for,” he said, trying to take my card from my hand. 

I held onto it tightly. “I don’t know if I have enough money on this card,” I lied, trying to give myself a little more time to decide if I really wanted to go through with this.

“I also take PayPal.”

$100 to get a psychic reading by some guy with an iPad. It was just as ridiculous as it sounded, and even worse, I was about to entertain it. 

God damn it. This isn’t worth it. He’s just going to say some vague, generic lines and then tell me to get out, I bet. 

But something forced me to let go: the sinful images of Jennie sitting on my face, grinding herself against my mouth completely flooded my mind, and no matter how hard I tried to push it out, it wasn’t going away. I absolutely had to know if I could ever have her again, and $100 was a small price to pay.

Before my eyes could even re-focus themselves on what was happening in front of me, he had already swiped my card on a little reader that connected to his iPad. There was a beeping sound, and instead of letting me sign my name, he did it himself. 

“Oh, your name really is Daniel,” he muttered to himself.

“I’m sorry—what?”

“Here you go,” he said, giving the card back to me.

What the hell just happened? Did he just—

He smiled and looked at me carefully, squinting his eyes. “Your heart is troubled, you feel lost, and you’re searching for something you can’t have.”

“You said that already.”

“Well, it’s true, is it not?”

“Yeah, but I just paid you 100,000 won just for you to tell me the same thing.”