# Silly beauty

//Seoul, South Korea; 09:53

Coldness embraces me as the first thing in the morning, creating goosebumps on my skin. My hair is still wet after the shower I took last night, before crashing on to the black textured sofa in the tiny living room. I stare up at the white ceiling, following an annoying fly with my bloodshot eyes.

I get up from the cheap sofa, waddling over to the kitchen to get some black coffee to survive the day. I want to find a way to contact my dear grandmother, but I know it's going to take a lot of work. No one related to my father can know I'm here, that I have escaped the captivity, the training camp. A bruise I got from one of the trainers a couple of days ago is still a vibrant blue-purple color.

I look out of the window, the sight of a brick wall greeting me. I slightly scoff, before quickly changing into a more appropriate outfit. Hurrying out of the front door, I don't notice the stranger in the same situation as me.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" the said stranger exclaims, standing still after tumbling a little. Me, on the other hand is sort of hugging the carpeted floor. A milky-white hand showed up in front of my eyes, signalizing for me to take it into my own. I let the unfamiliar guy help me up as I mutter a low apology.

Ready to go, I turn around and start speeding away. That's until I feel a hand on mine again, turning me back around. I hastily scan his face, looking for any signs of danger. I drag my black mask further up, it reached my nose, adjusting my sunglasses as well. There are no signs of the sun as it's extremely close to winter, it may make him suspicious of something. I raise my left eyebrow, as a sign for him to start talking.

"Uh, are you new here or something? I haven't seen you around before," he starts, slightly stammering. I just nod, not trusting him to let him hear my North Korean dialect. More correctly; I don't trust a single soul in this world anymore, I still question my grandmother from time to time without a proper reason.

"so will you go to a cafe with me? I can show you around here, if you want to, of course."

He sound so confident like he's got experience. Different scenarios go through my head, everything that can happen if I say yes. He may be a spy, someone working for my father, trying to take me back. He can suddenly poison me, kidnap me. Possibly, he is from another mafia gang, trying to take the mafia boss' princess. He may-

"What do you say?" he interrupts my untamed thoughts, sounding slightly impatient. I just nod, again, refusing to open my mouth. He doesn't bother making me speak, just letting me follow him, and so I did. The numbing coldness in the air hits me as we step out of the easy-on-the-pocketbook apartment complex, making me regret the choice of my thin jacket. There is only a couple of jackets on the clothing rack though, both made of thin material.

The tall man leads us into a charming little coffee shop, the smell of cappuccinos and espressos smacking me in the face as we go inside. The waitress, clearly knowing the stranger I'm having a coffee with, approaches us. Her voice is all squeaky and strident, almost making my ears cry;

"Hello, Namjoon-ah, what do want today?"

I take off my sunglasses and mask, looking up at her, plastering a fake smile on my face. I greet her, telling her I want a coffee mocha. Obviously annoyed, she smiles back me, writing down  a completely different order, not knowing I noticed. This so-called Namjoon snicker, telling her his  order. I roll my eyes at her as she walks away, sick of her already.

"What's your name?"

"Zhi Ruo, Wong Zhi Ruo."

I lied, but I'm not in the position where I can just give out my name to unknown people. A mafia boss' daughter is the greatest treasure another gang can get, a possibility to earn money, use her for sex, or both. I scrutinize his face, finding myself admiring his features. He chuckles, introducing himself politely right after.

"I am Namjoon, Kang Namjoon."

I can tell he is lying, it's something I studied a lot in North Korea. Knowing the signs of lies is one of the greatest weapons out in the real world; my father had told me when I was seven. Namjoon hid his mouth behind his delicate hand, doing a couple of grooming gestures as well.

I chose not to say anything about it, wanting to keep a low profile. The irritating waitress shows up, with only Namjoons order on her tray. "I'm sorry, we didn't have any coffee mochas left," she stated rudely, walking away afterward, the sound of her heels clicking annoying me even more.

"You can drink my coffee if you wa-"

"I'm fine, thank you, I had coffee at home," I interrupt him, forcing a smile, trying not to sound disrespectful. Namjoon just nods, starting sipping the black liquor. The sound is too bothersome, but I stay silent. It became all silent as he stops, the low coffee house music being the only sound we could hear.

"Well, are you a foreigner?" he suddenly asks, finally breaking the unbearable awkwardness. His question makes me freeze though, does he know?

"Why do you think so?"

"Your name, it-"

"What's wrong with my name?" I have to fight back the North Korean accent from rolling out of my mouth, he would become suspicious, if not completely then at least a little. He grins at the offended look on my face, but I can't help it. Even if it's not my actual name, it is still a name I came up with.

"There's nothing wrong with it, it just sounds Chinese or something."

My cheeks flush in embarrassment, realizing how stupid I was for feeling so insulted; "Showing your emotions is the last thing you can do out in the field," I can hear my father clearly, the image of his strict and emotionless face appears. I sputter a small apology, looking down at my pale fingers. He just smiles at me, paying the waitress when she shows up again.

¨

I change into a dress I bought earlier, a fiery red mini dress. It has this small split at the left  thigh, showing a little more skin than what I'm comfortable with. But, this night is all about being my young twenty-one-year-old self, winning some games of poker. There is a casino not so far away from my apartment, I walked past it on my little shopping spree.

I grab my purse laying on the single kitchen counter, checking the content;

Phone? Check. Earphones? Check. Money? Definitely check.

I put on my black heels, already over them. I make sure to lock the door, before walking the five minutes walk to the casino. The building is extravagant, 'casino' written in big golden letters, red and orange lights all over the walls. It's the biggest contrast to North Korea as a whole, the casino being big, exciting, bringing butterflies to my stomach.

I walk to the entrance, big guards holding up the enormous double doors. I feel expensive, marvelous, maybe even valuable as I go inside. All the neon lights are almost blinding me, the sound of money clinking welcoming me. The music is almost inaudible because of the chattering from the hundreds of people betting their expensive watches, their money, possibly even their wives.

The smell of alcohol is stark, it's impossible to avoid. A man in his twenties comes over and politely offers to take my jacket, which I allow, thanking him as well. The air is hot, so is the tension. Yells of despair and exhilaration is heard everywhere, meaning someone lost while others won.

I notice a group of men about to start a game of poker, their wives standing along with other women watching in both trepidation and excitement. I have a little discussion inside my head if I should stay low or join them, but I quickly decided the latter. I hurriedly walked over, pushing myself through the crowd while mumbling a couple of apologies for 'bumping' into someone here and there.

"May I join them?" I finally ask, not forgetting to be polite. The men look up at me, caught off guard. Why would such a young woman ask a group of males in a serious game of poker?

A tall, slender man in his forties answers first, a mocking look on his face; "Where are your parents, babygirl? Are you perhaps lost?"

The urge to slap him was great, but I stay put. The last thing I need right now is a big commotion, a huge amount of attention. Clearly, I shouldn't be in a casino, but I can't just stay at home. I don't have endless money. Luckily, I am exceedingly good at poker and such games. A survivor of russian roulette.

I just look at him, raising both my eyebrows, waiting for a proper answer. I can hear all the women behind me whispering and gossiping about this 'silly, unknown beauty who suddenly shows up, probably using all her father's money'. The accusations aren't completely wrong, but I'm not so senseless that I take all of the cash.

"Yes, please join us princess, but don't expect us to go all easy on you just because you're a hot, young lady," an undoubtedly overweight man answered this time, the cockiness in his voice obvious, pulling over a chair for me to sit on.

¨

"Fuck, how can I lose against you yet again!" another guy wails, a gorgeous mistress comforting him by dragging her chest against his back. I just grin, the couple of drinks I took half an hour ago certainly affecting my mood, but not enough to make my brain malfunctioning.

A huge crowd has formed around us, more precisely me, fascinated by how much money this so-called 'silly, unknown beauty who suddenly shows up, probably using all her father's money' have earned. Some of them are even showing their phones up in my face, trying to get a better look at me. It's too much for me to handle, finally making me come back to my senses. I realize how this situation isn't good for me, my own father can be in here for all I know.

I stand up, collecting all the money I earned by these fools, I'm ready to get the hell away from here. Someone else had other plans though, definitely not pleased with me trying to escape yet again;

"Not so fast, Kim Zhu Lin."

(EDITED)

A/N: can i call this a long chapter? i guess loay, hope u're happy with this, don't forget to leave a vote!