A man with one eye wasting away his time in the sickness-infested underworld of London had once told Hongjoong to ask others for no favours, since they usually had to get repaid with interest. The larger the favour asked for, the more the giving person got to estimate which worth they could demand in exchange. That worth was subjective in a world where favours didn't mean money or goods. What might be a little something to Hongjoong might be a grand gesture to another person.

Which, in return, would mean Hongjoong might have to repay much more than he bargained for.

People rarely asked Hongjoong for favours. In the slums where everybody fended for themselves, there was no need to. Declines or exposure at having trouble with something were most likely for answers, and those never bode well.

In his years wandering the rancid streets of the underworld, Hongjoong never dished out much, and he never had to return any favours. Recently, however, he placed foolish trust in a favour in dire need, hoping that the outcome wouldn't be too bad.

He owed Yeosang a favour.

They could be considered friends, somewhat, or at least as closest to friends as they became, based purely on how often their paths crossed. Hongjoong's work as a rat catcher crossed Yeosang's paths whenever both of them sold their ware on the seedy market. Hence why Yeosang had been the one Hongjoong had asked for help that day when he couldn't drop off his package, because he had to duck out of view from the wandering eyes of the police.

They hadn't taken too kindly to him stealing the master key to their headquarters to leave a plague-infested rat there. As Hongjoong had hidden away from them in Yeosang's home with curses on his lips, he wondered why they were after him, instead of real criminals. The dead bodies found in the murky water of the Thames every few weeks needed dire attention.

Yeosang had dropped off the package for Hongjoong and it was no further dilemma.

Until Yeosang had called him in today, declaring he needed Hongjoong to repay his favour.

Hongjoong's gut already knew he would be more than displeased with the challenge Yeosang would pose on him before he had even sat down on the wobbly chair at Yeosang's tiny table. While Yeosang poured both of them a cup of tea that was delightfully warm in Hongjoong's hands, Hongjoong tried to guess what a man like Yeosang might need him to do.

Yeosang was a strange fellow. He wore his dirty blond hair falling into his face to hide away his features like everyone else, but Hongjoong knew that under the layers of tiredness, grime, and malnourishment hid an attractive young man entirely unfitting to the shady figures wandering the underworld. Hongjoong never asked where Yeosang came from, but the man radiated the energy of one who belonged to the middle, or even upper society and had fallen out of grace. How he had ended up here and what he had done wrong, Hongjoong didn't know. He only knew that with a haircut and some good food, Yeosang could pass as nobility effortlessly.

Yeosang wrapped the mothy shawl he used to fend off the cold creeping in from the streets tighter around his shoulders as he sat down opposite of Hongjoong. Hongjoong's boots were still wet from the rain outside, and they left wet patches on the wooden floor beneath his feet.

"What is this favour you want me to do for you?" Hongjoong asked. It was the first time they sat together outside of work and the atmosphere was cosy, but Hongjoong wasn't interested in small-talk. He should be home before the streets became too dangerous to wander, even for the bobbies.

Yeosang stirred his tea. The swampy green colour matched London's heartless greyness, but the aroma was soothing and thick.

"I have a friend," Yeosang began, leaning back. Hongjoong did the same, feeling the wet spots on his thick jacket seeping through the woollen fabric. "From the upper society, surprisingly. You can call our affiliation somewhat of a business relationship."

Outside, feet splashed through the puddles in the deep potholes dotting the cobblestone street. They hurried past with little grace or patience. The volume of the noise gave away the thin character of Yeosang's walls and windows. In the conjunctions between both, Hongjoong could see the grey sky outside.

For a tobacco trader, Yeosang should be off better and afford a nicer home, but money was a fickle matter. Hongjoong didn't doubt he had his reasons.

"He asked me for a favour via a little side business I'm doing, but I ran into trouble finding the right person, so I need you to help. I'm just the spokesperson, so the favour you will pay off is the one I owe him."

Hongjoong already knew he wouldn't back out. His honour forbid him, because in a world ruled by money and status where he had neither, honour was his way for identification.

"Tell me more," Hongjoong said. The soothing atmosphere of the rain on the street was interrupted by the group of workers shovelling around on the other side of the house Yeosang lived in. The jarring clangs of their shovels were accompanied by the grunts of men ruining their bodies for the workhouse.

Yeosang's deep voice drowned on. It was the voice of someone used to selling things. Someone who could assure the clueless customer that yes, his product was worth the money. Whether that was the truth or not didn't matter. Yeosang was a master at his craft and he knew how to talk people into what he wanted.

Hongjoong was wary of him. As all people were in their surroundings. Beautiful people with beautiful voices spelt danger. Especially when partnered with those in the city centre.

"He ran into some trouble a few weeks back. The pretentious round he calls his circle of friends began to despise him for the rumour of an affair." Yeosang sipped his tea and met Hongjoong's eyes. Cold and calculating mingled with intense and treacherous. "An affair he supposedly has with a married woman."

Hongjoong couldn't help the chuckle that tumbled over his lips. How typical of the London nobility. They were quick to deny their involvement in anything improper, but just as quick to tumble into bed with another man's wife.

"You need not know if the rumour is true or not. To re-establish his stance among his friends and business partners, however, he asked me to find a suitable female counterpart for him to pretend to have a relationship with. She shall not come from London and she shall not be known to those people. An innocent soul willing to partake in a life of luxury for a while in return for her acting skill, as he worded it."

Hongjoong grimaced, but he wasn't surprised. Artificial marriages were a common method for the nobles to establish a stable life and a positive outlook on the future. Whether those relationships were just as willing behind closed doors and if the prim and proper kids coming from those relationships ever got to know what love was didn't matter. It was all about the masquerade of a perfect individual with no rough edges.

"Are you asking if I have any female friends I would want to sacrifice for that? I know many people, but I don't hate any of them nearly enough to subject them to this type of discomfort," Hongjoong muttered.

Yeosang nodded with more understanding than anyone seeking to obtain flawlessness.

"I considered it, as well. I also wouldn't want to send any of the girls I know down here to meet him. The treatment they might experience over their manners and looks would be a cruel punishment for any undeserving female. Hence why I asked you."

Hongjoong met Yeosang's eyes again. Over the rim of the cup, they looked black as they stared him down.

"Me?"

"I want you to go."

"To meet him?"

Yeosang lowered his lashes, looking into his tea as he emptied it. His eyes studied the remainder of the leaf crumbs.

"To pretend to be his fiancée."

A disbelieving smile made Hongjoong's lips twitch. When he leaned forward to position his elbows on the table, Yeosang's long lashes fluttered to peer at him again. No bashfulness or regret showed in them. Just the sly gaze of a fox on a trail for delicious prey.

Unwilling to become his chicken, Hongjoong stared back just as darkly. His shoulders seemed broader than Yeosang's huddled body in this position, fooling the onlooker about which of the two was taller.

"I'm a man," Hongjoong reminded Yeosang. His voice was low, carrying a thinly veiled threat. The right hand, scarred with the countless bites of vicious rats, hovered under his chin.

"I know," Yeosang grinned, too bright to seem genuine. "But won't you agree you are tough enough to shoulder this burden? Wouldn't a man be more suitable than a woman in the claws of a society with harsh judgment in their eyes?"

Hongjoong exhaled before he leaned back in his chair to cross his arms. His honour kept him from refusing outright, but the idea repelled him in every aspect.

"How do you imagine this to go?"

Pleased, Yeosang set his cup down.

"We will dress you up as a gorgeous woman and claim you come from the north and met the lord during his travels. You will get to accompany him to fancy dinners and tea parties but apart from that, both of you can live in blissful ignorance of each other." The honesty in Yeosang's voice relayed that if there was a catch, he didn't know of it.

Hongjoong nodded slowly but not yet in agreement. Food and shelter of that grade were a seductive offer.

"Lord," he repeated, "what lord is he?"

Yeosang took some time with his answer. Every second passing made Hongjoong narrow his eyes more.

Yeosang's finger coyly traced the rim of his mug as he replied. Once more, he avoided Hongjoong's heavy gaze.

"Park Seonghwa, Earl of Huntingdon."

The second Yeosang finished, Hongjoong added his reply.

"I'm not doing it."

The crease in Yeosang's brow gave away his foresight of that answer. He was well aware of the request he made.

"Consider, please. He promised a lush amount for compensation and it would all go to you. You know he has the money, it's easily made."

Hongjoong shook his head no matter how good the point was. Money was always tight down here and Hongjoong needed thicker clothes for the winter, but he wouldn't degrade himself to earn some coins he could make otherwise.

"The honourable Earl of Huntingdon is infamous for his inappropriate behaviour and lack of social etiquette. Rather than acting to deny his involvement with a married woman, I would assume that is exactly what he did. No wonder he fell out of grace. Perhaps him landing with the rats of the slums would put him among his kin. I say that with all my hatred for nobility. He is the worst of them all."

Yeosang winced even as he bobbed his head in agreement.

"He carries himself with arrogance and likes to boast, yes, but I firmly believe that as someone he pays for their services in his favour, you wouldn't get trampled over. He will have to comply with your demands since you'll have the might over his reputation in your hand. One word from you, and he will be exiled. Doesn't that influence sound like a satisfactory compensation for your ill will?"

Hongjoong gritted his jaw. If Yeosang was right and Hongjoong would truly not get a single issue in this high of a position, he might agree. But wandering the nobility in their soirees, conversing with the earl outside of their charade, all the moments in between would be hell. The earl would look down on Hongjoong, would mock him, and he might threaten him, too, if Hongjoong endangered his position further.

It was a dangerous game to play.

"Why ask me of all people you must know?"

Yeosang grinned and lifted the teapot once more.

"Your features are pretty and delicate, like those of a doll. Who else if not you could live up to the expectation of a charming accessory for the earl's arm?" His crude grin had Hongjoong wince. He didn't like to be reduced to his feminine facial traits. As often as he got told that he could make good money in the slums, dressing up as a girl to delude people and get better prices, Hongjoong's pride clung to his manliness.

"Also, you owe me a favour. It all comes together pleasantly."

Hongjoong wanted to snarl at Yeosang, but pushed his cup over for a refill.

If he wanted to take this job, he would need something stronger than some herbal tea, but it was a beginning.

Yeosang took his silence and his lingering for his signal to continue talking. The pleased smile on his lips told Hongjoong that he had already lost.

********

Hi, welcome here! If somebody here read Yesteryear and is still missing a one shot, worry not, I will have it up soon! Until then enjoy reading ^^