“Jaesung, wake the hell up!”

A loud crash startled him awake. With his black eyes open, he met face-to-face with Feng. His friend’s wild brown hair stuck out in all directions, and his breath stunk of a mix of coffee and cigarettes.

“Why are you so close? God, you stink.” Jaesung pushed him away and watched as he stumbled, almost hitting the oak end table their boss liked. A goofy smile adorned Feng’s features, but he ignored him.

“Did you have a sweet dream? You have some drool.” Feng pointed to the corner of his mouth.

Embarrassed, Jaesung wiped it off. “Fuck if I’d tell you.”

“It’s a good look on you, short stuff.” Another voice joined in, a low, deep one. On the other side of the cramped room entered another familiar face, Jett. He tied his long, bleached blonde hair back, his full traditional Japanese arm sleeve standing out amongst his darker clothes. The white walls did nothing to hide him.

Jaesung flicked him off. “I’m not short.”

“165.8 cm is short for the average male.” Behind him, laying on the vintage-red couch, was Trace. A fleece blanket covered his lower body, while the top half showed off his pale upper frame and lack of muscles. His cell phone was inches away from his face, the light reflecting off his glasses. “According to Google, you should be more sexually active.”

Jaesung rubbed his temples and sighed. “Why the hell is everyone here today?”

“Chief called us in for a meeting,” Jett answered. He lit up a smoke and blew it towards Trace, who wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Hey, let me have one.” Feng went to grab Jett’s cigarette, but his arm shot out to stop him.

“Go buy your own. I’m not your personal supplier.”

“You can at least share.”

More than annoyed by everyone’s bickering, Jaesung pounded his fist on the table. “I just woke up! Why can’t you guys shut up?”

“Jaesung.”

Shit. The echo of the door slamming shut reached his ears. Before them stood the head of one of the many branches of the Maniaco mafia. The tone of how their boss said his name, with disappointment and annoyance, brought him crashing back to reality. His mouth always got him into trouble.

“Chief.” Jaesung bowed his head.