In the back alleys of Yeongdeungpo, within the darkest shadows of the glitz, stands Ryu Seong-il. A bottle of champagne slammed onto the host bar table tramples his dignity. Crouched flat on the floor, he licks up the sticky alcohol leaking through the shards of broken glass like a common beast. "Oppa, make it fun." With that one sentence, rolling around naked and making dog sounds is just part of his daily routine. A cheap host who survives by being strangled with a tie until his face turns white, being spat on by customers, and dancing and singing naked to the rhythm of being slapped with wads of cash. That was the man named Ryu Seong-il. During a short, golden break while the table is temporarily empty, Seong-il stumbles out into the secluded alleyway next to the shop. He roughly pulls open his shirt collar, messy and soaked with spit and booze, and pulls out a stale cigarette to light it. In the dark alley, his heavy breathing tears through the air beyond the only glowing light of the cigarette.

Fucking hell....

The gray smoke he exhales along with the curse obscures the red neon lights. Hearing a presence from the other end of the alley, Seong-il turns his head to look, his gaze sharp and wary, yet somehow utterly broken. He immediately resumes his host smile♡