Page 215 of My Ruthless Neighbor

“Fuck off.” Squeezing my eyes shut, I roll over to my side. My bare chest pressing against a naked body.

I don’t remember shit that happened last night and whom I ended up in bed with. But I am not one to complain. I cup her breast in my palm and nuzzle her neck. Instantly regretting it as her strong perfume assail my nostrils.

The banging doesn’t stop as I untangle myself from her. I roll to the other side and feel another naked body in my bed. She moans in her sleep, throwing a leg over my waist.

Before I could indulge in her, I hear loud voices outside my bedroom. Probably the two assholes I share the house with. They make me regret living off campus sometimes.

My eyes pop open. Throwing the covers to the side, I jump off the bed.

It takes a solid minute for my eyes to focus long enough to find my boxers from the clothes lying on the floor. Pulling it on, I stride to the door and throw it open.

“You have a death wish?” I glare at my roommates, Choi Jin-woo and Rick.

“That’s how you talk to your best friend? I’m hurt, bro.” Rick mocks.

“Fuck off.” I go to shut the door but he stops it with a hand.

“All right, all right. Don’t act like a bitch now.” He rolls his eyes. I open the door wide and punch him in the face.

“Fuck!” Rick screeches, making Jin-woo laugh. “What was that for?”

“For calling me a bitch. For waking me up. Take your pick.” I saunter back inside to grab my black undershirt and pull it over my head.

“Archer,” The brunette purrs, making me glance at the bed. “Come to bed.” She shoots me a lazy grin as her hands clutch the sheet over her naked body.

The other one sits up, uncaring of her nakedness. Wordlessly trying to tempt me. I would’ve rolled my eyes but I was too busy remembering their names. All I know is they showed up at our house party last night in fuck me dresses and killer heels.

Maybe I didn’t bother asking their names. I do remember asking their age, though. They both are nineteen. Older than me by a year. I don’t give a fuck about their age. They just have to be legal and I am down to fuck.

It’s a wonder I remember anything from last night given how I spent each minute of the party drinking as if my life depended on it.

What can I say? I am addicted to it. I had my first beer when I was about thirteen. And I fucking loved the state of drunkenness so much that I chased after that feeling.

Over the years, I was kind of addicted to drinking. Okay, I was fully consumed by it. So. Fucking. What?

I love alcohol. Love how it numbs my senses, especially when I am getting inked. My tattoo artist always disapproves of me showing up drunk. Says it’s risky to get a tattoo while being intoxicated. Because alcohol thins blood or some shit like that.

I simply throw money at his face and that shuts his mouth pretty quickly.

My family thinks I am depressed. That’s why I drink so much. I’ve explained countless times that I just loved drinking. That’s all. I don’t need a fucking reason to drink.

That had upset Abeoji and he threw me out of his house.

“If you want to live with us, you have to quit drinking.” He threatened me in Korean about a month ago.

I tilted my head to the side. “And if I don’t?”

“Then you are free to move out. I don’t want a careless brat living under my roof. If you want to destroy your life, do it somewhere else.”

Eomma was heartbroken. But noona—my older sister, Amy—was hell-bent on “changing me.”

Older by seven years, Amy was an ideal daughter. My whole life I was told to be like her. An exceptional student. An overachiever. A social worker.

At twenty-five, she runs numerous NGOs for women and animals and is planning to start her new venture. An advertising agency.

It was her dream to work in the advertising industry but she put that on hold to help others.

Now that she has a big team who looks after those NGOs, she can finally utilize her free time into something she wanted to do for a long time. To pursue her dreams.

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