wealth smells like a dozen plants mixed into a strong yet pleasing musk, it looks like a fancy suit and a fat wallet, and it doesn’t talk to anyone in this scum filled environment. bang chulsuk the iron prince of jc group, stands out in the crowd without saying a word. he holds himself differently, despite being as wasteful as the rest of the men and women, and he doesn’t drop a penny on bloodshed.
tucked next to a wall by the bar, he pulls a full glass of champagne to his lips, sipping the liquor slowly with his eyes fixed on the younger boy on the other side of the counter. the moment eye contact is made, chulsuk drops his glass to the flat surface and looks sideways at the ongoing match in the arena, rolling his tongue absentmindedly between his champagne laced bow.
carefully considering each action of his own with the desire to reel in the bartenders interest, the lost lad continues his efforts, clearing his throat with a quiet hum, loosening the tie knotted around his throat to make it easy to expose a bit of collarbone under the poor lighting. “bartender---” he coos, a sly smile stitching across his cheeks as he proceeds to speak in the utmost seductive tone available in his vocal range, the italian accent picked up as a child, slipping into his mouth, leading him to stumble.
“you wouldn’t be able to recommend me your best bar snacks, would you?” following the question, chulsuk reclaims his drink, tongue already ready to stroke the rim before the glass before it’s even ready to pour intoxicating liquid down his throat. “i’m starved.”
as if being stuck on a train for a few hours on the way back to seoul with a diverse and silently judgmental crowd wasn’t bad enough, having every possible seat on the mode of transportation but his neighboring spot taken, made the trip so much worse. since most people on the train would be required to spend hours of their own from destination to destination, standing was not much of an option, and it was how he reluctantly came to be accompanied by the odd girl of which had seemingly fallen asleep the very second she’d put her bum on the chair.
for only a moment, no longer having the small space to himself was alright. the sudden invasion to his comfort by the likes of the pretty girl was tolerable and the fact she was sleeping eased the potential awkward air that might have come with sitting next to a stranger for a long period of time. however what destroyed that moment of content, was her unconscious actions. without realizing it until too late, the females head had broken into his personal bubble and used his shoulder as her very own pillow ---and the things that made it all so much worse were the whispers coming from the women seated on the opposite side of the aisle, and the dribble of drool that came to dampen his ridiculously overpriced dormeuil vanquish ii blazer.
with a delayed reaction to the very thing that happened to cross the line, chulsuk flicked the girls forehead and eventually snatched his shoulder out from underneath her face, whining about the wet stain marked in the precious fabric. “aish... what’s wrong with you?” he asks in a hostile tone of voice, not caring if she’d woken, more so eager to vent his frustration. “i’m never going to be able to wear this again.”
what is up, this is my son chulsuk aka. miracle aka. mistake aka. banksy. i am excited to be here, yes i is! me name is mel but you can call me whatever you fancy. this guy’s pages are all still under construction, so don’t hate me for not having a large variety of open plots up yet!
bang chulsuk, 23, patron
he’s the heir to a chaebol conglomerate holding company known as jc group, that was founded 70 years ago by his late great-grandfather, on his mothers side.
his grandfather got into business with the seoul tigers in 1975 and his family have been patrons ever since.
though he comes from a very high profile family, chulsuk is still relatively invisible in the face of the world, despite his scandals at twenty one.
he spent ages five to nineteen studying & living in milan, italy.
father passed away when he was twenty.
suffers from add, though it’s not as serious as it was as a child.
has been in a forced engagement for nearly three years now.
lived with his fiance in seoul for a while, but moved into a penthouse of his own for privacy.
aka he’s disloyal™.
goes by the alias “banksy” when doing business for and with the seoul tigers, because he’s full of himself and his worth, and once was fond of the cynical work by the artist banksy.
rarely talks to his mother, only for complaints and business.
uses people for his own pleasure because where’s the fun in being a fully rounded nice guy?
where’s the fun in even being able to be labeled a nice guy or a bad guy?
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