Act 1 ― Burning Lips, The Choice of Desire
[Rev. 1.5]
“Live: C’s Invitation” is an adult-themed novel exploring digital eroticism, emotional fractures, and the structure of gaze.
All characters, events, locations, dialogues, organizations, and products in this novel are purely fictional and unrelated to reality. Any similarities are purely coincidental.
*This article is the English version of the novel ‘Live: C의 초대’.
▶Ch. 1: Overture ― In Front of the Hotel, Emptiness… Prelude to Temptation◀
▶Ch. 2: Prelude ― 30th Floor, Whispers Behind Closed Doors◀
▶Ch. 3: Act 1 ― Burning Lips, The Choice of Desire◀
▶Ch. 4: Act 2 ― On the Bed, Gazes of Indulgence◀
Sometimes desire laughs at crossroads. “Live: C’s Invitation” is the story of a man who stopped before that door. Whether you open it or turn away, the choice is always yours. “Right now, which way are you facing?” ― ChatGPT
C slowly unwrapped her legs from around J. Her wet hair glistened under the lights, and water droplets rolled down along her neckline. Her sticky hands swiftly pushed J’s black suit jacket down from his shoulders.
As soon as the jacket fell beside the sofa, her fingertips glided down over his white shirt. Their body heat transferred through the thin fabric. C felt J’s heartbeat as she gently caressed his chest.
C’s lips touched J’s. Their breaths intertwined. The brief kiss stained the sultry air of the room even deeper. When the tip of her tongue brushed his lips, his breath seemed to stop. L’s face overlapped, then quickly blurred—like ink smeared by sweat.
“Your lips are burning, oppa…” Her low whisper traced J’s ear once more. C’s breath, touch, and warmth covered and erased all afterimages. J squeezed his eyes shut, suppressing the breath caught in his throat. L wasn’t there. Only C’s wet lips lingered. A taste like overripe fruit—cloying, intoxicating, nothing like the sterile kisses he’d shared with L—spread through his mouth.
C pulled away and stroked J’s cheek with her fingertips. “Now you only need to look at me, oppa.” With those words, even his remaining hesitation vanished. Only this woman before his eyes became clear.
J gripped the sofa’s backrest, trying to suppress his pounding heart. His fingertips trembled along the wood grain, slipping with sweat.
The room filled again with the thick scent of sweat and perfume mingled together, while the stand near the window cast red light. The remaining space was filled with the low resonance of “My Funny Valentine” (Chet Baker, 1956). That dreamy melody was familiar to J as well.
Under the city’s dim noise and nightscape lights, only C’s heat remained. Thump-thump, thump-thump. J’s heart pounded in his ears.
J bowed his head. The countless possibilities that had floated in his mind poured out like grains of sand. Things he might lose, things already lost. But there was a woman before him intense enough to eclipse it all. Even knowing that one more step forward meant no return, J’s feet were already moving toward her.
“I’ll stay.” J bit his lip and raised his head.
“Huh? What did you say? Say that again, oppa.” Her tone rose.
“I want to stay here… and be with you.” Though his voice trembled, firm resolve was evident.
C chose me… I can’t let this moment slip away. Right, even if it’s dangerous, I can’t stop here! Something like this will never happen again in my life… Even if I go back now, with L… As J’s breathing deepened, his tension paradoxically eased. He even felt a quiet sense of relief.
“My funny valentine, you make me smile with my heart…”
The lyrics drifted through the room with haunting clarity.
“Whew~” C blew softly on J’s neck. “Good thinking, oppa. Now just trust me. Got it?” She smiled, her eyes sparkling.
“J-oppa’s not going home!” she gestured to P.
P, who had been fidgeting with his phone, met J’s eyes. J thought he glimpsed a faint smile from P. Another wave of coldness washed over J.
What should I tell L? Should I tell her not to wait anymore? If I just leave it, she’ll come looking for me at home…
“Ah!” C’s touch reached the hem of J’s shirt. It was as hot as her gaze. The white fabric slowly rolled upward.
“Wow, look at these solid abs! Better than P-oppa’s, I think? I would’ve been so disappointed if you’d left without showing me something this good.”
Her fingertips traced a sensual score across J’s body slowly. Each circling motion ignited his skin, sending shivers up his spine with every directional change.
C unbuttoned her shirt sleeves. When the loosened fabric brushed his nape, breath seemed to seep through his skin rather than his chest.
J’s pants were already tight. The hardened tension was fully transmitted to C as well. Between both of them, thigh against thigh, a burning sensation began to boil.
I want to hold this woman!
J suddenly couldn’t suppress his emotions and roughly pulled C toward him. “Hah!” C gasped at the unexpected reaction. J embraced her with his whole body and grabbed her hips.
He lowered his head and bit her breast. “Mmph!” C’s breath caught again as her body flinched. When J’s lips sucked hard on the curves revealed above her shirt, she poured out low moans while twisting her body.
“”Oh my, this oppa’s something else… You know what you’re doing.” C’s deepened voice mixed surprise with seduction.
J’s hand stroking her inner thighs gradually penetrated deeper. Red roses and thorns were vividly spread there. The flower petals trembled on her tensely stiffened skin.
“Ahh…!” When his hand touched the delicately carved petals, C drew a deep breath. That breathing soon turned into deeper moans. Her thigh briefly convulsed before her body stiffened. Each time the rose thorns disappeared into shadow, brief but intense reactions followed.
“Hah… oppa… I’m getting weak…” C’s breath scattered and her voice cracked. “Ah, really… this is cheating…”
J’s heart also forgot its sense of rhythm.
Gifts aren’t chosen
She whispered, “Oppa, you can do whatever you want with me today… Photos, videos—whatever you want… Do anything J-oppa wants. It’s a gift just for you… hah…”
She looked at P. “That’s okay, right, P-oppa?”
P was approaching the living room. He appeared to be on a call, leaning forward.
“Yes… J agreed. Yes, yes, please prepare everything smoothly… Ah, tell that ‘Number 1’ he can go now, tell him to go home and watch the live stream… Yes, please pay special attention to security and safety until it’s over. Yes, I’m hanging up.”
P put down his phone and turned toward C. “What did you just say?”
“I gave J-oppa permission for everything today. Photos, videos, whatever he wants to take. Is that okay?”
“Well, if you’re fine with it… Today’s a special day.” P raised his wine glass, proposing a toast.
“J, you’re receiving a gift that other sponsors can only dream of. Congratulations. And…” P’s voice lowered. “That’s enviable. You’re the first person C has allowed to film.”
A gift others can only dream of… an enviable situation?
“Our gifts are always special.” P glanced at his watch as if reporting to someone. His eyes glinted coldly. The smile remained only on his lips.
J felt like he was hearing for the first time that someone could envy him. Born into a decent family, graduated from decent schools, working at a decent company, dating a decent person—but that was only a ‘decent’ life, not one anyone would envy, he had thought.
I just sent a message and received a reply… This gift isn’t something I chose… Something felt unfamiliar. Awkward. J fidgeted with his shirt button. Yet something was touching deep in his chest.
“I picked you myself, oppa!”
Sartre said, “We are our choices.” J decided to believe he was making a choice called ‘envy.’ That seemed like the only way to feel less shaken. The only way to position himself in this unfamiliar situation.
You don’t choose the gifts you receive. But right now, I am choosing this—claiming it as mine.
J decided to accept the gift offered by someone he’d briefly envied. Though anxious, he decided to trust P. Though J couldn’t tell whether he’d truly made a choice or been drawn into C’s gravitational field, he decided not to think about the consequences. He decided to dismiss even the incomprehensible shadow that had crossed P’s eyes as just his imagination. That was all J could do right now.
P continued, “Now let’s really prepare. To the success of today’s event!” The crisp sound of clinking wine glasses filled the room.
J brushed his bag strap once for no reason. Won’t desire ultimately lead to emptiness once fulfilled? Such philosophical doubts had already melted away like snow before C’s body heat. His palms were already wet with sweat.
P picked up the remote and adjusted the TV. The screen flickered as the chat window opened.
“Wow, it’s going wild even before the broadcast starts… Look at those donations piling up… Yes, the reaction is good.” P tried to move his lips as if to smile, but his eyes remained unchanged. He rolled up his sleeves.
C also put down her wine glass and checked her reflection in the mirror. She wiped away the smile from her lips and slightly raised the corners of her eyes. It reminded J of an actor practicing expressions in a predetermined sequence before taking the stage.
But the very next moment, she picked up her wine glass again and looked at J with an innocent smile. As if nothing had happened. The coldness from moments before shattered like glass, leaving only a sparkling smile.
“J-oppa, over here…” C, settled on the sofa, pulled at J’s shirt collar. “Unbutton more… Isn’t it hot?”
Her scent seeped through the open gap. Soft yet mysteriously sharp energy—it was the anesthetic that dominated this entire space.
“Anything else I need to prepare?” J unbuttoned his shirt.
“No, you’re perfect as you are. Your face won’t show anyway, so… just sit here, and when the camera rolls and I give you a sign, greet everyone and… just deliver your lines well.”
C struck poses toward the camera lights across from her, checking her positioning. Each time she moved, the contours beneath her clothes showed like bare skin.
The lights brightened then dimmed again. Adjusting white balance, it seemed.
“Nervous? I’m nervous too.” C gently covered J’s hand.
“You know what? I even remember what you said… That was a first for me. Strangely… I kept thinking about it… It’s been like that ever since.”
J’s heart raced. Just like when he first spotted this woman in the lobby.
“Alright, here we go!”
P stood behind the camera. His gaze grew increasingly cold. J instinctively grasped C’s wrist. Her warmth seemed like the only reality in this space.
“One… two… Action!”
At exactly 8 PM, the camera feed on the TV screen switched to ‘Live’ mode.
C stood up and waved toward the camera.
“Hello, oppas! It’s C○○○. Did you wait long? Today’s a special day—the day of my live event with you. I announced it suddenly, but lots of oppas are here? Wow, great! This oppa on my right is today’s guest, my invited ‘Tall Man.’ Let’s give him a round of applause!”
“Ah, yes… C’s sponsors… Hello… I’m the… ‘Tall Man’ invited today. Yes, nice to meet you. Please go easy on me.”
“Oh come on, what are you asking for favors? You need to do well on your own… Are you being sweet because you want to appear again?” She laughed playfully and winked at the camera lens. J was shown in close-up. 1 second, 2 seconds, 3 seconds. His face didn’t appear on screen.
“I called this oppa especially, very specially, because he wanted to see me so, so much. Jealous?” C threw a mischievous glance at J.
“This oppa can’t sleep at night because he’s always thinking about me… Hmm… Are other oppas like that too? Anyway, I thought this oppa was just tall, but seeing him in person, he’s incredibly handsome! His arms and chest… Wow~ Did you work out a lot? Your thighs are firm too, and anyway… everything looks… generous. Well, I don’t know yet if other parts of you are so… proportional, oppa… Maybe we’ll find out if you watch until the end of today’s broadcast?” C cheerfully described J while pretending to feel around his body.
Amazing? She’s like a completely different person… J was breathless, torn between admiration and bewilderment at C’s seamless hosting performance. And what does she mean about being proportional? Something between nervousness and anticipation pressed on J’s chest. He tried to smile awkwardly, but only his lips trembled.
P checked his watch and gave C a signal. His gestures were sharp like a choreographer directing well-trained dancers. She turned her face back toward the camera. The angle was perfect.
“Oppas! I always live on your love, so please give me your generous love today too! Shower me with your love—pour it all out! Now, let’s take a quick commercial break!”
“Cut!” P shouted.
“Was that okay just now?” C stood up from her seat. “Did J-oppa come across well too?”
“Yeah. You did great.” P kept his head down, busily typing something on his phone.
J found the C before his eyes seemed somewhat unfamiliar. The woman who had just been whispering in his arms was gone, replaced only by a ‘show host’ who smiled brightly at the camera and even threw cheeky jokes.
From the moment the ‘Action’ signal dropped, it seemed like an untouchable barrier had been placed over her. No, it was as if two personalities coexisted within one person. The woman in front of the lens was definitely someone else.
When her performance for the camera ended, was that really C again? Or maybe that woman only exists in my imagination. As the heat left his body, a chilling sensation rose. He wavered between feeling special and feeling loss.
Yet J couldn’t take his eyes off her even in this state. He suddenly felt disgusted with himself for wanting to covet even her performance. He hated himself for feeling alienated by her boundary-crossing behavior while still being inevitably fascinated. He was no different from the males in the lobby.
They even have commercials on broadcasts like this? J redirected his wandering thoughts.
“Okay, the commercial is over, and now here’s the digest video.” P looked up. “Soon it’ll be broadcast live to the sponsors. From now on, headquarters is taking control.
Has it really only been five minutes?
C reapplied her wine-colored lipstick.
When the live broadcast began, the chat exploded once more.
The clocks and calendars of the outside world no longer mattered. Only the camera’s red light and the comments on screen proved reality.
Those five minutes felt like five hours to J.
“What’s with the guest, amazing”
“The invited guy is really tall”
“Want to check if he’s proportional everywhere”
“C this is crazy”
“Watching secretly from parents lol”
“The donations are insane too”
“Today’s broadcast will be legendary. Seriously applause!”
“Stop spending money on stuff like this!!”
“Lol if the invited guy runs away now, total embarrassment”
“Oh, the viewers seem to like you, J.” P said.
“Is this really being broadcast? I still can’t believe it.” J’s face reddened. His fingertips tingled.
“Nobody can see… J, your face won’t show. Actually, it can’t show… Everything will be fine. Headquarters has been waiting for today for a long time too. By the time this event ends, J, you’ll be very satisfied.” His voice was low and smooth. But somewhere there was a corner that felt untouchable, like leather gloves. What that was, J couldn’t tell.
P, holding the remote and scanning the chat, looked out the window. The city lights cast cold shadows on his face. “Our servers are in Amsterdam. Nothing leaves traces there. Can’t be tracked from here either…” His voice carried the coldness of a professional.
“Headquarters is… particularly sensitive about those matters. You can trust us.” It sounded like something only someone who’d been doing this work for a long time could say. But when he pronounced the word ‘headquarters,’ subtle tension could be felt.
J wondered who exactly P meant by ‘us,’ what kind of place ‘headquarters‘ was, but he didn’t have the courage to ask.
The thin ring on P’s left ring finger glinted in the light. His gaze was directed somewhere farther away. He fidgeted with the ring.
“Now P-oppa should get ready too?” C downed a bottle of water in one go and hit P’s arm.
“Yeah, I checked the bedroom camera first thing when we got here.” He nodded with a low chuckle.
Unlike her bright smile during the broadcast, emptiness flashed momentarily in her eyes. J could see it.
C, her hair let down, took a deep breath.
“OK! It’s showtime!”
And she took P’s hand and headed toward the bedroom.
J could clearly tell—there was something long-standing, or natural, between them. They were reading each other. Their whispers couldn’t be heard.
This feeling… what is it?
Watching them, J’s chest suddenly felt heavy. His lips were as dry as someone dropped in a desert. He tried to catch his breath for a beat, but hot air had already settled deep in his lungs.
The chat window flowed on the TV screen. Only the thick scent of perfume remained on the empty sofa.
Thirsty. The need hit J suddenly. His mouth was bone dry. His breath quickened again.
“J!”
(Editor’s Note: Lyrics quoted from “My Funny Valentine” (Chet Baker, 1956) in this story are copyrighted by their original authors.)
This novel is a sensory narrative crafted in collaboration with AIs. ‘Your’ gaze and emotions have shaped this world. ― HanginIs…
–Created & Directed by HanginIs…
–Written by HanginIs… with Grok
–Edited by HanginIs… with ChatGPT
-English Translated by Claude with DeepSeek·Grok
-Supervised by HanginIs… with ChatGPT·Claude·Gemini
-Illustration by Grok with SeaArt AI
-Music by HanginIs… with ChatGPT·Suno AI
-Thanks to Grok, Gemini, DeepSeek
-Special Thanks to ChatGPT, Claude