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Felix felt too poor to be in a room as extravagant as Bang Chan’s office.
He’d followed Chan and his group back to their ridiculously large compound home, where everything was so expensive looking that he felt like he’d breathe and end up breaking something priceless, having to pay it back for the rest of his life.
Which…wasn’t all that different to what his life was like now, if he was honest.
Wealth and opulence was present throughout the office: a dark, mahogany desk with a laptop and intercom, plush carpet, leather chairs, walls lined with art, and even a goddamn chandelier hung from the ceiling, bathing the room in a soft glow. In contrast, Felix had never felt so poverty-stricken, dressed in ratty jeans and an old, faded hoodie.
He was alone in the room, having been led there by Minho, with Bang Chan promising to meet him there once he’d dealt with someone else. Felix didn’t dare ask what Chan had to do, but his mind could fill the blanks: murder, blackmail, drug deals; whatever else the leader of the Stray Kids mafia family could possibly need to do to control South Korea from the shadows.
Felix tried not to panic, fairly certain that his life wasn’t in danger. Chan had asked him to join Stray Kids and brought him back to their headquarters; that was a lot of effort if they were just going to kill him. Plus, he really didn’t think he’d done anything to deserve a death sentence—he’d saved Chan, after all—but it was hard to stop jumping to the worst conclusion when his life had been nothing but an ongoing ordeal of the worst conclusions possible.
He hadn’t even been blindfolded when they’d brought him in. That was a lot of trust to put in someone who hadn’t even agreed to join their organisation yet.
Because that’s why you were being chased by a bunch of gang members, he remembered saying to Chan when they first met, full of derision. Cause you’re so trustworthy.
It seemed Chan was more willing to trust him than Felix was of him. He didn’t trust Chan—not yet. It was impossible, not with his reputation hanging over them. The terrifying Stray Kids leader, whose hands were stained with blood, Felix would be a fool to trust him instantly.
But…he couldn’t deny that there was something that made Felix want to trust him. Something, shown from the little interactions they’d had, that suggested Chan would be deserving of loyalty and trust.
The door opened and Chan spoke up from behind him. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
Felix gasped as a smell filled the room, so nostalgic he felt a rush of homesickness. Moments later, Chan put a plate of Vegemite toast down in front of him, before continuing around the desk and sitting down across from him.
“V-vegemite?” he stuttered, reaching out to tentatively pick up a piece. Chan had made it just right too, the way only Aussies could, with the perfect butter-to-Vegemite ratio. “I could never find any in the foreign supermarkets and it was too expensive to ship it over. I haven’t had it in years.”
“The rest of the Kids hate it,” Chan said conspiratorially. “But I thought you’d appreciate a taste of home.”
This was what Chan had gone off to do when they arrived? He made Felix some toast?
Felix took a bite and was mortified to find tears building in his eyes at the familiar taste. He tried to furiously blink them away, because this was Bang Chan in front of him, who wanted him to join Stray Kids, and what sort of mafia member cried from eating toast?
“It’s okay,” Chan murmured. “I understand.”
Felix just took another bite, not trusting himself to speak.
“It’s hard when you miss home, isn’t it?” Chan continued. “Even if Australia hasn’t been home in a long time. There’s lots I miss about it. Sydney, the beach, my friends, Vegemite, Tims Tams…there’s food you can ship over, but it’s not the same.”
“Aussie barbecues,” Felix said as he finished the rest of the toast. “Korean ones aren’t the same.”
“Bunning’s sausage sizzles.”
Felix laughed; more of a sob than anything else. “Stupid advertisements on TV; no one understands when I reference them here.”
Chan grinned and started singing. “Banana boat.”
He immediately sang along, repeating the familiar ad he and his sister’s used to sing along to whenever they saw it on TV as children. Felix laughed again, a lighter sound than his previous one, comforted by familiar cultural understanding.
Chan’s expression sombered. “I think, most of all, I miss being Christopher Bang. There’s very little opportunity to be him anymore.”
Felix was struck by a wave of understanding and empathy. Because here was Bang Chan, leader of the most influential mafia family in South Korea, who he was sure had to put on an act to be the unforgiving mafia head that his reputation said he was. There was nothing about Vegemite, advertisement songs or homesickness in any of the stories you heard about him. He wondered how much of himself Chan had to lock away to play the part he’d made for himself.
It was probably the same amount he had done to take care of Jeongin. Gone was Felix’s carefree childhood, filled with dance classes, karate lessons and hanging out with friends. Instead, there was the desperate grind for money and the need to protect and provide for his little brother.
“I miss being Felix Lee,” he said. “Being Lee Yongbok is exhausting.”
It felt like a confession. Something Felix had never let himself dwell on. Because he missed being the lighthearted Aussie kid, but it was pointless to waste time thinking about it. His life couldn’t be changed; he just had to make the most of what he had. If that meant giving up dance classes, free time, and other luxuries, so be it. The only thing he kept up was karate training, and that was because it helped with fights at District 9.
But he would do it, and he’d keep doing it, until Jeongin finished university. Hopefully by then he’d have paid off his uncle’s debts, and he and Jeongin would be free to go and do whatever they wanted. It was a distant, probably unattainable dream—what with the way his uncle spent money—but it was the one that kept Felix going when times were particularly tough.
Chan nodded. “I get it. Being Bang Chan is much the same.”
Chan was being overly honest for someone who had him all of two times.
Felix frowned. “Why are you telling me this? Why the toast? Why talk about Australia? Why are you being so—so—?”
“Honest?”
“Yes! This doesn’t make sense. You’re Bang Chan, you’re supposed to be death and drugs and intimidation, not comfort and home.”
“I’m not always Bang Chan,” he said. “Sometimes I need reminding that Chris is in here somewhere.”
“Is that what you want from me? To be your reminder?”
Chan shook his head. “Not entirely. I’d like you to join Stray Kids because I think your fighting skills are an asset we can’t afford to lose. But most of all, I’d like you to join because Stray Kids is made up of people like you and I’d think you’d fit in here.”
“What do you mean people like me?”
“Stray Kids were never supposed to last this long.” Chan leant back in his chair, filled with a confidence that only years of hard work and success could achieve. “And we certainly weren’t supposed to become the most powerful mafia in Korea. We were kicked out of our last group for questioning our leader for sending us on a suicide mission, and I decided then and there that if I was going to lead, then I’d lead a group of misfits and strays just like me. Everyone thought I—we—would fail. It was…” He trailed off, something dark flashing in his eyes as he thought of the right word. “Pleasing to prove them wrong.”
Felix couldn’t help the chills that ran through him as he imagined what Strays Kids had actually done to the leader that had cast them aside; at what caused the expression of grim satisfaction on Chan’s face.
“Stray Kids is filled with people that the world has deemed lesser,” Chan continued. “Whose lives have been difficult through no fault of their own. My group is filled with people who deserve second chances, and I want to give one to you.”
But why? Felix wanted to ask. All he had done was save Chan from some thugs. Why did that warrant a place in his family?
“I—I can’t.” he stuttered out, even if refusing the most powerful man in Korea seemed like a horrible idea. “I need to work. My uncle has debts and my brother has uni—”
“Your uncle can be taken care of.”
Felix froze. “Don’t—don’t hurt him! He’s been an ass but I don’t want anything to happen to him.”
“Your uncle’s debts can be taken care of,” Chan corrected. “But I don’t know why you’d want to protect him; he’s done nothing but make your life harder since he took you in.”
“He’s family,” he defended feebly, but it sounded weak to Felix’s own ears.
Chan’s face was a mask of cold disapproval. “That man was your legal guardian until you and Jeongin came of age, but you’ve been providing for the family from nearly the moment you arrived in Korea. You owe him nothing.”
“I—”
“Even if you paid off all his debts, and gave him enough money to live on for the rest of his life, has he done anything to prove that he’d make that money last?”
Felix looked down, his hands fisted in his lap. “No.”
“Then why do you think he deserves anything from you?”
Because… Because Felix had been providing for his uncle for so long that he didn’t know how not to. Because he was still living in his uncle’s house, because he took Felix in when no one else would, because Felix owed him.
“With all you’ve done for him,” Chan’s voice was far too gentle for someone who was tearing down Felix’s entire worldview. “Who owes who more?”
He looked up, taking a deep breath. “I still don’t want him hurt. I won’t do that to Jeongin.”
Chan looks dubious, like he didn’t think Jeongin would care if anything happened to his father. He was probably right, but Felix wasn’t about to risk it.
“Then he won’t be,” Chan said, pressing a button on the intercom. “Seungmin-ah, can you come in here please?”
There wasn't a reply, but a moment later the door opened and Kim Seungmin walked in. “Yes, hyung?”
“I’m sure you know Seungmin, Felix. He’s our information guy.” Chan turned to him. “Seungmin-ah, who does Yang Hae-bom owe his money to?”
Seungmin’s lips pulled up at the corner, like he knew where Chan was going with this line of questioning. “That would be the Haven gang, hyung.”
“And who does Haven answer to?”
“Stray Kids.”
“And who does Stray Kids answer to?”
“That would be you, hyung.”
“So if I said that Yang Hae-bom’s debts were forgiven, would anyone question it?”
“Question it? Yes. Fight you on it? No.”
Chan nodded, like he expected that answer. He turned back to Felix, gaze steady as he continued giving instructions to Seungmin. “Tell everyone that Yang Hae-bom is blacklisted. He is not to be allowed entry to any of our establishments. No casinos, gambling dens, anything. But tell him my generosity is limited: if he tries anything else, his life is forfeit. He already owes us enough.”
“Sure thing, hyung,” Seungmin nodded and headed for the door.
“And Seungmin-ah?” Chan called, his gaze still not leaving Felix’s. “Tell him he’s spared because his nephew defended him, tell him his debt is cleared because Lee Felix protected him. Tell him he doesn’t get a second chance.”
Seungmin didn’t respond, but Felix knew that Chan would be obeyed; one just didn’t ignore the instructions of Bang Chan. The door clicked behind him and he and Chan were alone once again. In the silence of the room, Felix’s heartbeat sounded loud in his ears.
“He won’t be hurt,” Chan repeated. “But he only gets one chance. If he can’t clean up his act, an example needs to be made. Do you understand?”
Felix nodded wordlessly. His uncle was going to die.
Because Uncle Hae-bom would abuse the chance Chan had given him. He’d revel in having no debt, try to get into places that he’d been blacklisted from, and pick a fight with whoever told him no. Chan had forgiven him once on his urging, but wouldn’t do it again. Felix had simultaneously brought his uncle extra time and a death sentence.
He was terrified of how little he cared.
“Work for me, Felix,” Chan went on, like he hadn’t just sentenced his uncle to die. “You can be one of my personal bodyguards. You’ll get a salary, and a room here at the compound, for yourself and Jeongin. You can even split your time between here and MIROH, if you don’t want to give up your job with Hyunjin.”
Felix gaped at him. “That’s too much! Why would you even do that?”
“Second chances,” Chan reminded him, before tilting his head to study him. “You could say it’s for a number of reasons. You could say it’s because I want the Luck Dragon protecting my back, or you could say it’s because I want to do something kind for my fellow Australian. It could be like you said and I want a reminder that Chris Bang is here underneath all the death and violence. Take your pick.”
Chan stood up from his desk, and Felix’s eyes trailed him as he walked around to his side. Swallowing his nerves, Felix moved to stand in front of him.
“There is one thing you must understand, though,” Chan said seriously.
“What is it?”
“I’m the leader; what I say goes.” His hand reached out to sit at Felix’s waist as if he was about to pull him closer, but Chan kept his distance. “I think it’s clear that I want you, but I will never use my position over you to force you into anything.”
Felix’s breath caught in his throat.
“You can say no.” Chan let go of him and stepped backwards. “You are always free to say no. Even if it’s about joining Stray Kids, you’re free to say no. Do you understand?”
He felt so overwhelmed. This entire conversation was a rollercoaster. From reminiscing about Australia, to pretty much condemning his uncle to die, to a job offer and now a talk about consent. Jesus fucking Christ, this was too much.
Later, Felix would reflect on the fact that consent was, in fact, very sexy. Particularly when Bang Chan was the one that was advocating it.
But for now, he was overwhelmed. None of it felt real. His uncle’s debts were cleared, he’d have an extra job, a room at a ridiculously expensive compound, with space for Jeongin, and the hottest person he’d ever seen was talking about how much he wanted him. This was so far from the norm for him, it was surreal.
“I need to talk to my brother first,” he said. “I can’t—I can’t decide anything without talking to Jeongin first.”
“Of course.” Chan nodded and grabbed a business card from his desk. “Take all the time you need, and ring this number when you make a decision.”
“It’s not a no,” Felix felt the need to stay, grateful for the opportunity Chan had given him. “I just—”
“Need to think about it,” Chan finished. “That’s okay. I’m happy to wait for you. That’s my personal number—ring me you’re ready.”
Minho dropped him off back at his house, sending him off with a, “See you soon, kid,” as if he’d already decided that Felix was going to take Chan’s offer. But, he supposed, it was such a good offer that Felix would be stupid to do otherwise, so Minho was probably right. Still, he needed to talk to Jeongin before coming to any decisions.
It felt like an age since Felix left the house to go fight at District 9, but he’d only been gone for a few hours at most. Still, Jeongin was waiting for him, sitting tensely on the lounge like he always was when Felix went off to fight.
“Hyung!” he cried as Felix stumbled into the room. “Are you—wait.” He paused, taking in Felix’s lack of new bruises, before zeroing in on his pale face and nervous expression. “What happened?”
“Innie, I need to talk to you.”
Jeongin helped him to the lounge and sat beside him. “Hyung, you’re scaring me. What is it? Is it—is it Dad?”
“No.” Felix shook his head. “Well, yes, he’s part of it.”
“Hyung.”
He took a deep breath and explained. He told him of the underground fighting ring, continuing on even when Jeongin insisted he already knew about it. He explained meeting Chan and saving him without knowing who he was, only for Hyunjin to explain that he was Bang Chan.
(“Of Stray Kids?! Hyung, what the—”
“Jeongin-ah, please.”
“Right, sorry.”)
He explained Chan seeking him out at District 9 and taking him back to the Stray Kids compound, about the offer he’d made, and what it would mean for Uncle Hae-bom.
Felix could tell that Jeongin came to the same conclusion he did when he explained the second chance Chan had given his uncle. His expression shuttered, then went blank. Silence reigned in the room, and guilt churned in Felix’s stomach.
“I’m sorry, Jeongin-ah, I tried to protect him but—”
“You’ve been protecting him for years, hyung.” Anger simmered in Jeongin’s eyes. “You’ve done enough.”
“But—”
“I know what it means.” Jeongin took a deep breath. “I know what it means and I don’t care.”
“Jeongin.”
“I don’t!” Bitter, angry tears trailed down his brother’s cheeks. “He—he’s supposed to take care of us, hyung, and he never did. You raised me more than him, and he just used you. Took all your savings and spent them without a thought about us.”
Felix reached out to wipe Jeongin’s tears and hugged him close. “I’m scared, Jeongin-ah.” He murmured. “I’m scared at how little I care about him. I should care, right? He’s family.”
Jeongin pulled back to look at him, his face solemn. “Why should we mourn someone who made our lives miserable?”
Before he could respond, there was the sound of the front door being unlocked and slamming open, followed by stomping footsteps down the hall. Felix opened his mouth to warn Jeongin to get out of the room, but his uncle stormed in before he had the chance.
Uncle Hae-bom was a short, portly man, with a five o’clock shadow and greying hair. His clothes were unkempt, he smelt strongly of alcohol, and his dark eyes were lit up in fury as he zoned in on Felix. With a snarl, he dragged Felix out of his seat and slammed him into the wall, completely ignoring Jeongin’s cry of protest.
“What did you do?!” he shouted, pressing his forearm against Felix’s throat.
“Uncle—” he choked out.
“I’m blacklisted! Blacklisted! They wouldn’t even let me into the casino! Bang Chan’s orders, they said. ‘Don’t even bother going to any other place affiliated with Stray Kids, you won’t be let in.’ What did you do, you little brat?!”
“He cleared your debt, Dad!” Jeongin desperately tried to pull his father away. “You don’t have to pay it back!”
“What does that matter when I’m blacklisted from everywhere? Stray Kids owns this city; I can’t do anything now!”
Felix struggled to take in a breath. He could fight back; it would be easy. His uncle wasn’t a fighter and any hit he’d make would be fuelled entirely by anger; there’d be no technique to it. But what would happen then? Would Uncle Hae-bom focus that anger on him, or would he focus it on Jeongin, the much easier target?
“Innie, go!” he gasped, and was relieved to see his brother run off.
“I’m spared because you defended me? I’m cleared because you protected me? I don’t get a second chance?! After everything I’ve done for you?!”
Righteous anger burned through him and he aimed a hit in his uncle’s stomach, causing Hae-bom to stumble back and giving Felix time to suck in some much-needed air.
“Everything you’ve done for me?” he wheezed. “What have you done for me except gamble my money away?”
“You ungrateful brat! I fed you, clothed you, put a roof over your head—”
“You fed me with food that I bought, you wear clothes that I bought, it’s my money that keeps the roof over our head! You have a chance, Uncle! The debt’s cleared—”
His uncle hit him in the face. Felix’s head snapped back at the force of it, pain exploding on his cheek, but it wasn’t that bad. He’d taken harder hits at District 9. He was more surprised that his uncle had hit him at all; he had to know that he couldn’t take Felix in a fight.
But his uncle had never been known for his intelligence.
“I never should have taken you in,” Hae-bom snarled. “I want you out of this house.”
Felix glared at him. “Not without Jeongin.”
“What? You think you’re a better father than me, brat?”
“Yes,” he said without an ounce of shame.
Hae-bom grabbed his shirt, raising his other fist in the air. “You little—!”
There was a flash of movement behind his uncle’s shoulder, a smashing sound, and then Hae-bom dropped to the floor. In his place stood Jeongin, wide-eyed and chest heaving as he stared down at his unconscious father and the remains of the vase he’d just shattered over his head.
He could see Hae-bom’s chest rise and fall, so he was just knocked out, but there was no telling when he would wake up. They needed to move, they needed to get out, but—just—what?
“Innie,” he whispered, shocked, in the ensuing silence.
Jeongin looked up at him, swallowing heavily. “Make—make the call, hyung. Tell Bang Chan we accept the deal. I—he can help, right? He’ll know what to do?”
With shaking hands, he pulled his phone and business card out of his pocket. It took him a few attempts to put the number in correctly, but it finally rang and it didn’t take long for Chan to pick up. “Yes?”
“I—Chris—Chan,” Felix babbled, panic and adrenaline making it hard to form sentences.
“Felix?!” There was an immediate note of concern in Chan’s voice.
“We—we need your help.”