Chapter 1 — My Best Friend's Girlfriend - Part 1 (1)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author's imagination. All characters are adults aged 18 or over.

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Daniel Park and I go back to middle school—high school, college, even the army. He was the most clueless guy when it came to women. Incredibly naive. I, on the other hand, had far more experience, so whenever he started dating someone, I naturally slipped into the role of his unofficial dating coach.

His girlfriend, Emma Lee… She was the daughter of a wealthy family, same year as me, attending the same art university, though we were in different majors and had never met. She stood about 170cm, long-haired, with a striking, statuesque figure. Next to my scrawny friend, she made him look even more pathetic.

She majored in fine arts, and maybe because of that or just her build, she always dressed in black—expensive, tasteful, with a quiet elegance. Not really my type, since I preferred petite, plump glamour, but I couldn't deny she had a great rack.

Daniel wanted to double date—him with his girlfriend, me with her friend. He asked me to help him set the mood, to make that night the one where he finally made his move.

That night, we had dinner at a restaurant. I nearly choked at the prices on the menu. Clearly, money wasn't an issue for her. She knew the waiter by name, and the way she ate—so refined, so poised—made me feel small. I grew sullen, defensive, and the girl she'd set me up with? Not my type at all. I brushed her off, spoke dismissively, just killing time.

We moved straight to a nightclub afterward. But not just any club—it was one of those high-end hotel lounges, another place where the cover charge could feed a family for a week.

Daniel, thrilled, was flailing around on the dance floor with exaggerated moves that looked embarrassingly awkward. I just kept drinking, silent and brooding, when Emma suddenly approached me.

"Why aren't you dancing, James?"

"I don't like loud places."

"Then why are you speaking casually? We just met today…"

"I'm older than you. And I figured I'd save time and skip the formalities. What's it to you?"

"So you're just the type who thinks he's better than everyone else, huh? Typical…"

Just then, Daniel stumbled over, oblivious, raising his glass for yet another toast. He was already wasted. She was completely sober. There was no way anything was going to happen between them.

Still, I felt obligated to do my best. After leaving the club, I took the girl I'd been paired with home first in Emma's car. Then I dropped Daniel and Emma off near his boarding house, at a street-food stand, and slipped away, leaving them behind.

About an hour later, my phone rang. It was Emma.

"Older brother!! Daniel's completely drunk—he can't even stand. Please come help!"

I suspected a setup, some kind of trick. "Let me talk to him."

But no. The idiot was out cold.

"I'm sorry… Can you come get us again?"

I sighed and went back. When I arrived, Emma's face was flushed—she'd clearly been drinking too—but she looked calm, almost docile. I hoisted Daniel onto my back and carried him to the car. Then I drove her home in her own vehicle, the whole time feeling the weight of her quiet presence beside me.

"Sorry about earlier," she said softly as I started the engine. "I was being unnecessarily rude."

"Don't worry. I started it."

"Do you like my friend? She's pretty, right?"

"No. Not my type."

"What kind of girl do you like, older brother?"

"One who listens to me. A good girl."

"And looks?"

"Petite. Plump. Glamorous."

"Hmm… I'm glamorous, but I'm not short."

For a moment, something strange stirred inside me. A familiar, unsettling sensation. The kind that always came right before sex.

"Older brother… Since we're both a little tipsy, want to grab a coffee and sober up?"

"Why sober up after paying a fortune to get drunk? It's 3 a.m.—where the hell are we going to find coffee?"

"I know a place."

It was a high-end restaurant in the Bongdeok-dong neighborhood, Daegu—luxurious, open all night, packed even at this hour. Couples filled the booths, lovers hidden behind partitions.

She led me into a private room. When the waiter came in, I ordered coffee.

"Sir… if you're using a private room this late, you'll need to order alcohol as well."

"I know," she snapped. "Bring coffee and drinks."

She ordered expensive whiskey. I felt my mood sour again, irritation flaring.

"Jesus, your family rich or something?"

"What?"

"A student like you drinking in places like this, ordering top-shelf liquor…"

"Yeah, we're rich. So what? Just drink."

She downed straight whiskey, glass after glass. I matched her, clinking glasses without thinking.

Alcohol seeped into my veins. And as she swept her long hair back, I found myself staring. Her neck, her collarbones. She looked undeniably sexy.

"Daniel really likes you, you know."

"Does he? But we're not actually dating…"

"Then why are you here?"

"Just… He's an upperclassman in my department. He's nice to me. Helps me with assignments sometimes. But honestly? I'm not really into men."

"Don't play around with my naive friend."

"And you? You don't seem so smart either. From where I'm standing, you're just as clueless."

I bristled inside, anger flaring.

"Want to know what not being clueless looks like?"

"Yes… What does it look like?"

"You. Sleep with me tonight."

She didn't flinch. Didn't look shocked. Just smiled, faintly amused.

"That actually sounds kind of fun. Okay. Let's do it."

At that moment, I didn't think of Daniel. I didn't think of loyalty, of friendship. All I wanted was to conquer this arrogant girl—to break her composure. From then on, I said nothing, just kept drinking, my eyes tracing every inch of her.

Long hair. Big eyes. Small lips. Full breasts, barely contained, the outline of her bra pressing through her dress. Slender legs. High heels studded with crystals.

Red nail polish on her toes. Pale skin. Delicate hands.

She looked even more alluring, the alcohol sharpening every curve, every shadow.

"Older brother. Let's stop wasting time. Let's go."

She walked into a nearby hotel, checked in at the front desk with practiced ease, and returned with a key card. I'd never been inside a hotel like this before.

The room was so luxurious I didn't even know how to turn on the faucet in the bathroom. I washed my hands and stepped out.

She was already on the bed, leaning back, her hair pinned up in an elegant twist—calm, waiting.

I approached, grabbed her roughly, and kissed her hard. My tongue ran down her neck as my hands groped her breasts—so large they couldn't be cupped in one hand. I worked them fiercely, sucking her neck, desperate for a reaction.

But she remained indifferent.

"Older brother, you're rushing… Wait a second."

I pulled back. She looked at me, calm.

"To be honest… I think I might be numb. I don't feel anything with men. I'm sorry. I need to take a shower."

Pride flared in me, hot and sharp.

Fine.

I made a silent vow then—before this night was over, I'd make her cry. I'd make her feel everything.