Work Text:
It's late at night when they’re dropped off -well, more like shoved out of the car- right in the middle of Seoul.
Gyeongseok’s head hurts, his body aches in strange places, but he still takes a deep breath of the heavy, polluted air and sighs. Yeah, this is home. Finally.
The car is already gone in the distance, but far from him the idea of running after it, of going back to whatever Hell they decided to throw those 400 people in. He’s lucky to have made it out alive, even if it was by the skin of his teeth. He could’ve been dead, like all the others- like that elderly man they shot in front of him during the 6-legs game. Like Player 095 in the mingle game.
His legs are woggly when he stands.
Around him, nothing has changed: the people, the city lights, the relentless traffic noise. Just hours ago, hundred people were fighting for their lives, and no one in this city knew or cared. Life moves on around them, just like it will move on through Gyeongseok eventually. He’ll forget it all. He’ll force himself to. He won’t know if another 400 people will disappear into some dark corner of Seoul in a few months, weeks, or years.
Gyeongseok starts a slow pace towards the more buzzling, lively streets. He hopes he doesn't have blood on himself, hopes he doesn't look like some sort of crazy zombie -the last thing he needs is gathering attention. He doesn't need people to look at him, to see him for what he is- someone who watched people die all around him, someone who indirectly killed them.
All he wants is to go see his daughter, even if visiting hours are over- maybe they'd let him in? They have before. Nayeon is still a baby, after all, and even in this rustless and cold 21st century, people still have empathy for babies. Especially sick ones.
It takes him about twice as long as it usually does to cross the street and find the nearest subway station. It's funny; he's been dropped off exactly where they came to pick him up, a few days ago.
He knows it's probably the last time he will ever be here. Even now, just looking down the street makes him want to puke. It already brings that sickening aftertaste to the back of his throat: the stench, the raw, agonizing despair he rarely ever felt in his life.
Gyeongseok winces at each step he takes down the stairs.
He never noticed it while he was in the game, but his body is tired. His muscles ache, his fingers are cold, and his jaw is locked in a constant scowl that makes it sting. His body is fighting to relax, but his brain is still too alert, as if it was just a ploy or a hallucination; as if he was to open his eyes and be faced with a gun pointing right between his eyes.
On the subway, people don't look at him weirdly- he tries to stay quiet. He knows what people are capable of now, and he avoids eye contact like the plague. He doesn't need unsolicited attention. He doesn't want smile or warmth or a comfortable, heavy bed. He just wants to see Nayeon.
His phone beeps just as he's leaving the subway.
Gyeongseok startles: he had almost forgotten about it. His phone. It's a funny weight in his hands, and he gasps when he sees the notification, looking around himself to check for unwelcomed eyes.
Hana Bank, 01:49: Park Gyeongseok; + ₩356,000,000.
"Wow," he chuckles under his breath.
It's...a lot of money. He's not used to seeing so much on his bank account, and he quickly opens the app to double-check, to make sure he's not going insane. But he's not- it's there. On the little pixels. So much money.
"I hope I won't get the police on my ass," he reasons as he leaves the subway station, his step lighter than before.
He's scared, a bit. So much money, coming onto his account- won't the bank suspect something? Will they think he stole it, or it was a mistake?
Gyeongseok chews on his bottom lip as he lets his brain wander freely for the first time in days. It's nice, being able to think about something else than the imminent possibility of dying-
Well, there's still the possibility of being interrogated by the police, but he can handle that.
When he finally exits the subway station, he looks around.
Even at this time of the night, Seoul thrives. There are college students, teenagers, office workers, all drunk and stumbling like zombies. A few cats, quickly escaping when Gyeongseok gets close. He can hear a faint music in the distance, and he stares at his phonescreen with intensity- it's a picture of Nayeon, wearing her usual strawberry hat, smiling so big while lifting two fingers in a V-pose.
Gyeongseok smiles back at the screen. That's his baby.
Maybe he was a coward, maybe he didn't make it to the end, to be the last one standing, but it's okay. He already has a lot of money, just from running around for three days.
It's fine. Everything will be.
*+*+*+*
Two weeks later, Gyeongseok gets his first slap in the face. Not to say he had forgotten about those...games, no: he still thinks about them everyday, reliving the tears and the blood every night before sleeping as best as he can, only managing about 3 hours a night.
He can't stand the taste of milk anymore, and he has developped a strange hatred towards the color pink. He has to bite back the urge to puke everytime he sees Nayeon's bright, shiny bubblegum toys.
She's better as well. She's still in the hospital, but she's awake, and she still hasn't made a fuss about being forced to lie down all day long. It's frustrating for Gyeongseok, though: he wishes nothing but to be able to take his sweet girl back outside, to play with her in a park, or to watch her draw, half sprawlded on the floor, her small eyes drifting until they fall shut, her head on her Appa's shoulder.
He's working his second job, a pathetic, underpaid shift at the convenience store, when it happens.
The Slap.
"Good evening," a sweet, deep voice says.
On the counter, the costumer sets a few things: instant ramen, pre-cooked chicken breast and a can of soda.
Gyeongseok is scanning the ramen when he looks up to greet them with his usual, mechanical costumer-service tone. It dies down in his throat when his eyes settle on the costumer.
"Oh," he can't help to gasp softly.
In front of him- it's her. Player 120. With her dark bangs, gentle eyes, and broad shoulders. She looks different than during the game: she's wearing makeup, a cute cardigan too small for her arms, and her hair looks softer, washed for once.
She's not looking at him, keeping her hands clasp together at hip-level, mouth twisting awkwardly.
She probably recognized him too, right? It's been- it's only been two weeks. They only really interacted during the mingle game, but still. They talked to each other- they saved each other. In a game with such conditions, she's bound to recognize him, even after two weeks...right?
Or maybe she's just ignoring him.
It'd make sense as well, to ignore a person who represents one of your biggest traumas. Gyeongseok's not sure if he would greet every player he saw: would he greet that one man, 456, who kept shouting about having played before? Would he greet that pregnant girl?
He shuts his eyes for a second too long. He can't think about them- he hopes they're okay. He-
"A pack of Marlboro, too. Please," the woman asks.
She's soft-spoken, even more than during the game. She didn't belong there.
Gyeongseok takes a deep breath when he turns around to grab the pack of cigarette, and tries to scowl his expression into a neutral one when he faces her again.
"11,200," he announces, watching her fumble with a few bills.
Gyeongseok can't help but observe her as she grabs her stuff and quickly leaves, not even sparing him a glance before the door shuts behind her. He’s left standing there, watching her disappear down the street, and he exhales deeply, his shoulders relaxing.
Player 120.
Fuck.
Of course, it makes sense. They were more than 400- well, 456, right? After all the death, they were about 100 left at the end of game three, and they voted again: 53 in favor of ending the games.
100 people went home. One hundred people released back in Seoul. It's not much, considering how many people live in the city, but Gyeongseok wasn't naive. He knew there would be chances of him seeing one of them again. Maybe just a passing glimpse, crossing paths in the street, but still… it happens.
Two weeks. In a convenience store- he sighs.
He doesn't even know her name, still calls her Player 120, as it they were still in the games, and it doesn't suit right with him. She doesn't deserve this kind of inhuman treatment, to still be referred to as a number, barely a face. Just a ugly green outfit with the numbers plastered on it.
"Excuse-me?", someone says, and Gyeongseok startles out of his stupor. A young girl is standing by the drinks section, looking up at the shelves. "Can you help me get this one? I can't reach."
Gyeongseok looks at her for a second, before smiling. "Sure," he says, and steps away from the counter.
*+*+*+*
"Good evening."
That voice- Gyeongseok freezes from where he is restocking the cigarettes, and he doesn't dare turn around. It sounds like...like her, but he can't be delusionnal again. It's been three weeks since Player 120 came by the convenience store, and he hasn't seen her since then. Sometimes, he'd catch sight of heavy hands, but there would be no nail polish on them- only scars and broken skin.
Sometimes, he'd hear deep voices and think for a split second it's hers, only for them to belong to big, macho men. He'd scold himself each time.
He made himself a reason, and it was far too easy. Of course, she wouldn't come again. There were so many reasons: she doesn't live closeby, she doesn't want to see him again, doesn't want to be reminded of that thing, but yet.
Yet, he is once again full of hope as he hears that voice, and does a somewhat dramatic turn-around.
"A pack of Marlboro, please," the costumer gently asks when he faces her.
Because it is her. Player 120. In front of him- she has a half-smile on her face, just polite enough, but still.
She's here. She's wearing a purple scarf, and she has a lot of blush on her cheeks, maybe too much.
"Oh, uh-...Yes, of course," Gyeongseok fumbles with his hands as he grabs the pack of cigarettes. It slips from his fingers and falls on the ground. "Ah. Sorry."
Her shopping is the same as last time: soda, ramen, chicken breast. Marlboro.
"11,200, please," Gyeongseok announces again. It feels familiar, like a routine that shouldn’t exist.
She casts him a glance full of meaning, and he gulps down.
This time, she has the money ready. She hands him the bills without hesitation, and Gyeongseok almost gapes at her.
He expects her to turn away and leave, like last time. To disappear and never come back. To close that chapter of her life, as she should. That's why he stares at her maybe too long, as if to make his brain memorize all the detail about the slope of her nose, or the way her eyelashes flutter when she looks at him, firm and certain.
"Join me," she offers, her voice soft, but unwavering. "If you have time."
With that, she turns around and heads towards a table, not even looking at him anymore, as if she doesn't care whether he decides to join her or not.
Gyeongseok glances around the shop- there is nobody, at this time. It's later than the last time, around 1 AM. The shop feels empty and cold. Player 120 must feel it too since she keeps her jacket and her scarf on, even as she goes fill her ramen with hot water.
With one last shaky exhale, Gyeongseok steps out of the counter.
*+*+*+*
"Cho Hyunju," she says after a while.
Gyeongseok has watched her eat in complete silence like a creep. She offered him a bite of ramen, holding the chopstick in his direction, but he declined politely.
"Sorry?", he chokes out, not expecting the sudden conversation.
They've been silent for 10 minutes now. He was half expecting her to finish her food and leave.
"Cho Hyunju," she repeats. "That's my name."
Gyeongseok looks at her. "Cho Hyunju," he speaks softly, tasting the name on his tongue, the way it rolls. "I'm Park Gyeongseok."
Playe- Hyunju nods at him. "Nice to meet you. Officially."
"We can pretend it's our first time meeting," Gyeongseok offers her.
"No. It's-...I can't. Could you?"
She lifts big, expectant eyes to him, and Gyeongseok wishes he could lie easily. "No, I couldn't," he admits.
Cho Hyunju. It suits her, he thinks. That purple scarf does too.
"Have you...," he starts, unsure of his words. "Have you met any others?"
Her eyes shift to something less shy, more...grave.
"No. I'm-...I don't want to meet anyone. I wasn't close to them, except...well."
Except that young girl, player 095.
Gyeongseok knows- he saved both of them when the number asked was three (well, they saved him as well). He recalls not seeing her with Hyunju when the game asked for two people, remembers grabbing her and running to safety. At that time, he didn't think much of it, but Hyunju did look...sad. Set on her destiny, frozen in place, like she wasn't about to run or find someone.
"I'm sorry," he says, because he doesn't know what else to tell her.
It was the reality they lived in, a little more than a month ago. A reality of death, of fear. And it's also the reality they live in right now, except it's more subtle, well-hidden.
"I-...Uhm," Hyunju clears her throat. She's finished with her food by now and is toying with the empty soda can. "I came by tonight to see if you...went."
Gyeongseok frowns at that. "If I went?"
"Didn't you receive it?"
He's frowning even deeper now, trying to make his brain work, make the connection. What should he have received in correlation to the game?
"The money?", he asks, uncertain. "I did receive it."
"No," Hyunju shakes her head. "The card. To play again."
The words make his heart drop dead in his chest. Gyeongseok gasps, as if she had shot him, and he stands up abruptly.
"What?"
He didn't- he doesn't know. He doesn't recall any card, any message. He hasn't met that asshole who kept slapping him again. He doesn't-
Hyunju looks at him gently. "Come out for a smoke."
*+*+*+*
They're sitting on the cold, dirty plastic chairs just outside the convenience store. Gyeongseok is not too serene about leaving it empty, but he would see if anyone enters anyway.
He's turning the little beige card between his fingers.
"I must have missed it," he reasons.
It's probable: he's basically a zombie with how little he sleeps.
He goes to his shift at the amusement park, goes to the hospital, then has 30 minutes to get home and change before his shift at the convenience store, and then can finally sleep for a pitiful 3.5 hours before he has to get up again. On Sunday, he doesn't work at the amusement park, and he takes advantage of it to prep his meal for the week and catch up on his sleep.
It's a sad life, he knows it, but Nayeon is making progress, they say at the hospital. She would be able to get out in a week, apparently, and he's been managing to pay for everything thanks to the game money- even if he's about to run out of it.
"Would you have gone?"
Hyunju looks hopeful. She's smoking, long fingers elegant around the cigarette, and Gyeongseok is trying to not think about it too much.
"No," he answers after a stretched silence, and he smiles when he sees her relax. "I'm-...There's only one winner, right? I'm already lucky to still be alive."
"A lot of people think they'll be the lucky winner. We're all a little selfish and confident."
Gyeongseok gives her an amused smile, but it quickly turns sour.
"I can't-...I can't die. I have a daughter, and I can't leave her alone, thinking her dad abandonned her," he starts, and somehow doesn't stop. "She'll die, without me. She's-...I can't leave her to die. If she dies, I die with her, but I don't want the opposite to be true."
He doesn't look at Hyunju when he stops speaking, and for a moment, the only noise that can be heard is the traffic, never stopping.
"That's honorable," finally, Hyunju talks. "I'm...I don't have anyone. I could've gone."
Gyeongseok places the card back on the table between them. He grabs one of her cigarettes because, fuck it.
"I'm glad you didn't," he says, and means it.
*+*+*+*
It somehow becomes a habit.
Every Wednesday, at midnight, Hyunju comes. She grabs ramen and chicken breast, or sometimes cheese, prawns, or even instant tteokbokki. Her soda choice always changes.
After a few weeks, she starts grabbing two sodas, then two ramen, and then she starts saking Gyeongseok what type he prefers, if he likes shrimps, squid or anything else.
They talk a lot. About their personnal lives, Nayeon, Hyunju's friends, their jobs- Hyunju is an ex-army sergeant, but now she's alternating between small jobs. She was also a convenience store cashier until she started the game. Now, apparently, she delivers pizza for a shitty pay, and she sometimes edits Youtube Video for her friend. She told Gyeongseok she does that mostly to keep in check with Gen Z, and it made him chuckle.
She's younger than him by three years. The first time she calls him oppa, he feels a weird warmth settling in his heart, but ignores it.
After eating and talking, they go smoke a cigarette outside.
Sometimes Hyunju smokes two, just to make the moment last longer. They don't necessarily talk during that moment, and Gyeongseok almost basks in the quiet, stealing glances towards her.
He learns to know her better, even without speaking. He knows she likes purple, judging by her clothes: she has a purple phone case, her constant purple scarf. She likes wearing black jeans and oversized clothes- Gyeongseok knows not to ask her why.
Her nails are a different colors every week- pink, black, purple (of course), sometimes a mix of different colors, and she always smiles sweetly when Gyeongseok compliments her on them. I do them myself, she says with pride.
Gyeongseok doesn't dare yet to ask her if she'd do Nayeon's nails one day.
She always has makeup on as well. Gyeongseok...his ex-wife was a big makeup consumer, and he had learned to spot it- the foundation, the blush, the mascara. Sometimes, Hyunju is a little more prepped and comes with eyeshadow- a mix of gold and purple that makes her eyes look deeper and heavier. Gyeongseok both loves and hates those days.
After a month, she starts coming more often.
Two times a week, then three. Sometimes it's busier, but Gyeongseok asks her to stick around until the line clears- he sneaks in a chocolate bar, pays with his money, and gives it to her when he joins her afterward.
She always reacts like it's the most precious gift she's ever received.
It's on a random Wednesday night that he finally asks. He's been thinking about it: Nayeon is back home, livelier than he's ever seen her, and he knows she's probably sleeping soundly by now. He has a babysitter, but he doesn't have the money to keep her for the entire night. Nayeon has learned to take care of herself, to avoid doing anything dangerous during the night.
Hyunju is sitting in front of him, smoking while looking at the city lights, trying desperatly to catch sight of a star (impossible, with all the pollution).
He doesn't know if it's because he's biased, but Gyeongseok finds her prettier every day. She had started wearing rings, and he likes to touch them softly, fingers following the jewerly, sometimes boldly tracing patterns on her palm. She has earrings now as well. She had complained about how it had hurt like a motherfucker to get her ears pierced, but Gyeongseok could see how happy she was, unable to contain herself from touching her ears every few seconds, even if it meant her piercings got infected.
She's pretty. Soft, mature, and...Gyeongseok doesn't want this.
He doesn't want to only see her at night, in an empty hour, smoking cigarettes and eating premade food. He wants to take walks with her and Nayeon, to cook with her by his side. He wants to go shopping with the two of them. He wants his nails to be a ridiculous yellow color and to complain about them while she laughs. He wants-
"Do you want to come to the amusement park?", he blurts out as he puts out his cigarette.
Hyunju chokes on her own.
"W-what?", she asks weakly once she's not dying anymore.
"Do you want to come to the amusement park? Where I work? I'm not doing a full shift tomorrow, but I'm staying the whole day because Nayeon will be there and she likes it too much."
Hyunju looks at him like he's crazy, and he's starting to regret asking. "Nayeon? As in...your daughter, Nayeon?"
That's when it hits him- he basically just asked her to meet his daughter, and...
"Uhm- I...I mean. I'm not-...Fuck," he sighs. "Yes. My daughter."
Hyunju puts out her own cigarette, even if it's less than halfway smoked.
"Are you sure?"
Gyeongseok frowns.
"Of course. I asked you, right? It can be fun."
She looks down on her nails, perfectly painted as usual: it's a deep blue color, this time. "Alright," she almost whispers. "I'll come by."
As expected, Nayeon loves her.
She looks at her with big, doe eyes, and hides behind Gyeongseok's legs for an hour when they meet- Hyunju looks sad about it, trying to make herself as small as possible, hunching down until Gyeongseok tells her that it's going to be fine, that his daughter's just shy.
And it's true. During the parade, Nayeon softly asks Hyunju if she can carry her. It sparks something in her: her gaze widens with joy, and she offers Gyeongseok the biggest smile he's yet to see on her.
An hour later and Nayeon and Hyunju are inseparable. They giggle about the parade, and Nayeon is jealous of everything Hyunju has- her nails, her earrings, even her scarf. Hyunju wraps her in the thick purple fabric and Gyeongseok can't help but sneak a pictures of the two of them.
It's one of the happiest days he's ever had, and when he gets back home after his shift at the convenience store, he sends the pictures to Hyunju.
Gyeongseok, 3:46: *forwarded: 4 pictures*
Gyeongseok, 3:46: I told you it was going to be fun.
Hyunju replies in the morning, as Gyeongseok is helping his daughter get ready for school.
Hyunju, 6:59: Thank you so much for the day!
Hyunju, 7:00: And thank you for the new lockscreen. :)
He spends the following day in a half-daze.
It's been a long time since he's been this giddy, fingers twitching for no reason. He feels like a teenager all over again, how stupidly happy he felt when the girl in his class smiled at him for the first time.
He knows those feelings- he's 42. He has a kid, got married, had countless one night stands, spent hours on date, either with his late wife or with other girls: sometimes it would led to nothing but an old and useless number in his phone, or it would lead a short-lived relationship.
He knows he likes Hyunju. He likes holding her hand, pretending to look at the pinkish nail color or the new ring adorning her fingers. He likes watching her pass her hand through her hair or watching her reapply lip gloss after smoking.
When he walks down the street, he imagines himself with another body next to him, a flowery scent following them. Maybe Hyunju would pull him into a shop or two, buy matching beanies or warm coffee so they could continue walking without freezing. Maybe they would stop at a children’s shop and buy some cute stuff for Nayeon, surprise her when they pick her up from school.
Gyeongseok is already too deep in it- he feels lonely at the end of the day, when he carefully tucks Nayeon in her bed and goes to eat cold soup while watching the news. Does Hyunju feel the same? Does she also think of him, of them, whenever she's lonely? Or does he only remind her of the game, of Player 095?
He doesn't know, and he's not sure he wants to know.
She has to power to break his heart too easily, now.
*+*+*+*
His phone dings with a new text two days later. He's just finished drawing a family: two cute twins with their parents, all wearing the same sweatshirt. They thank him with big smiles, and he looks around to see if Nayeon is somewhere nearby before checking his phone.
Hyunju, 10:23: Are you free this weekend?
Hyunju, 10:24: You and Nayeon?
He smiles upon seeing her name, and that's another reminder that he's too deep in this. It's dangerous, but he can't help it.
Gyeongseok, 10:28: I work all Saturday. Nayeon has a check-up at the hospital on Sunday morning, and I have a shift at 9 PM.
Gyeongseok , 10:29: Otherwise, we're free.
Hyunju, 10:34: Great!
Hyunju, 10:34: Would you want to go grab a bite? Somewhere else than the convenience store?
Hyunju, 10:36: Nothing against it, of course.
He smiles at the texts. She's just so...Hyunju.
Gyeongseok, 10:39: Of course. I'll pay.
Hyunju, 10:41: What? No. I asked you, so I'll pay.
"Excuse-me?", a voice makes him startle, and he sees another family in front of him, the two parents holding a small boy with a bored-looking teenager in tow.
He half-bows, apologizing to them before quickly offering them to take place.
"I'll be right here," he smiles, before looking down at his lap again.
Gyeongseok, 10:44: It wasn't a question.
Gyeongseok, 10:45: Don't worry. I'll pay. Just give me the time and place.
When Sunday rolls around, Gyeongseok is even giddier than after the day at the amusement park. Nayeon's check-up goes fine, maybe a little too much, but he doesn't want to worry about relapse, about sad things. Today is a happy day, as he said to his daughter when they left the hospital.
He dressed her up in her favorite clothes, her usual strawberry hat and a heavy jacket because it is still cold and he doesn't want her to be sick- well, sicker than she already is.
Himself is dressed as usual, but maybe he switched one of his old, ragged shirts for a perfectly ironed light blue one, and maybe he sprayed cologne on weird places he usually doesn't- he's seen it on the Internet. Elbows and stuff.
And maybe he stops in front of a window reflection to check himself before grabbing Nayeon and hurrying down the street.
Hyunju is waiting in front of the restaurant when they arrive. She looks-...Gyeongseok can't even begin to speak when she spots them. Her hair is slightly wavy, she has light eyeshadows on, and she ties her purple scarf around Nayeon as soon as the little girl runs to her.
"How did it go?", she asks Gyeongseok when they enter the restaurant, Nayeon holding her hand.
Another wave of warmth blooms in him. He wouldn't mind doing this for the rest of his life.
"Fine. Almost too fine," he whispers back.
Hyunju risks a glance at Nayeon. "You can tell me later."
"I will," Gyeongseok smiles, and she smiles back.
It's a Japanese restaurant, something Nayeon has yet to try, and she's curious enough to make the waitress dote on her with free food. Gyeongseok tries to protest, but no can do. The meal goes well: Hyunju tells stories, sometimes a bit exaggerated so that Nayeon gasps and laughs loudly at each word, and her father looks fondly at the two of them.
"She likes you a lot," he tells Hyunju a while later, when they're sitting on a bench, Nayeon playing in front of them.
She's trying to make a soup out of mud and rocks, sometimes bringing her little concoction to them in leaves. They always pretend to drink it before setting it aside.
Hyunju smiles. "I like her too. It's hard not to," she says, looking right at him. "I'm glad I went to that shitty convenience store when I was craving ramen, all those months ago."
Gyeongseok blushes- he's not sure, but he feels the warmth on his cheeks.
"Me too."
He thought he didn't want anything more with the game, wanted to forget and ignore it, but somehow, the game, this perveted death situation brought him Hyunju, her warmth, her easy smile. Somehow, now he dreams in colors, of purple and gold, and he can't completely hate the game for it.
Hyunju's smile deepens.
*+*+*+*
"This is it," Hyunju waves around, as if she's embarrassed. "I'm- uhm...What do you want to drink?"
Today is Friday.
For the first time in a long time, Gyeongseok has taken the day off, instead choosing to spend it with Hyunju and Nayeon once she was free from school. She doesn't go often- mostly homeschooled because of her age and circunstances, but Gyeongseok believes it's important for her to socialize and see other kids.
They went to grab a snack before heading to the cinema: Hyunju insisted to pay despite Gyeongseok's concerns, and they watched a children movie. Nayeon was probably the happiest little girl in the whole country for one hour and a half, while the two adults exchanged soft words to not disturb everyone else.
At the end of the movie, Gyeongseok suggested grabbing dinner- fried chicken, just so they could again pretend they were students on a carefree date after class, rather than adults dealing with debts and a strange death-games trauma, a little girl dangling between them.
And now, here they are, at Hyunju's place. For some reason: Gyeongseok is a bit lost as to how he ended up here. He just followed the younger woman, hung up to her words. He would probably follow her to another country if she asked.
Gyeongseok turns to Nayeon, gently prompting her to speak. "Coca," she croacks out.
"If you have," Gyeongseok completes her sentence, before adding. "And coffee for me, please."
As Hyunju busies herself with making the drinks, Gyeongseok details her home. It's cute, and way bigger than his own. He wonders if she used any of the money won during the game for this house, but she can probably manage to do it without.
The living room and the kitchen are in the same space, the furnitures almost mushed together with how close they are. The warm, orange tones of the cushions and carpet make the room feel cozy, and the thick curtains dangling next to the window adds to the safe feeling.
Three doors lead off to different directions, and Gyeongseok doesn't dare to ask about them. Instead, he approaches the window. The view isn't much- just another building accross the way, but that's fine. A good view only serve to make the rent higher, anyway.
"Here you go," Hyunju comes back with a tray. "Uhm, Nayeon-ah."
The little girl turns to her with big eyes.
"I bought...some things. I don't know if they're okay for her age."
She pulls a box out from a cabinet in her kitchen, and puts it down on the floor with too much ease. Gyeongseok can’t help but notice her muscles bulging subtly in her short-sleeved shirt. It’s a bit overwhelming, and he quickly diverts his gaze to avoid thinking anything out of line, especially with Nayeon so close.
Inside the box there are colorful, soft-looking toys, and Nayeon gasps with joy. She eagerly grabs one plushie, only to toss it aside to grab another one in her excitement.
"It's perfect," Gyeongseok thanks her, his gratitude evident as his daughter gets absorbed in her new toys. "Thank you so much. You didn't have to."
Hyunju smiles down at him. "I wanted to."
Her lips, shaped in her characteristic boxed-smile, red from the lipstick she had on all-day, are inviting. It would be so easy to tilt up, to take a step forward and kiss her. Even just her cheek.
Gyeongseok has to compose himself to sit down and not do something crazy in front of Nayeon, even if she isn't paying any attention to them.
"I love your place," he tells Hyunju instead of kissing her silly. "It's far better than mine."
His own home is a far cry from this; it's run-down and cramped. He doesn’t even have enough for two bedrooms, so Nayeon sleeps in the same room with him. It’s manageable, for now, but he worries about what will happen when she gets older and wants her own space. The bathroom barely works, and at night, he tries to ignore the strange noises coming from the walls, from the other apartments.
"Thank you. I try to make it as welcoming as possible," she beams. "Even if...well. You're one of the first guest I've ever had."
The words makes his heart ache for her. How could it even be possible?
Hyunju, who's so soft-spoken, smart while still sharp when she needs to. Hyunju, who cares for everybody, who bought toys for Nayeon, who offered them slippers as soon as they entered. Hyunju- People should pay to be able to enter her home, to see her.
"I'm flattered to be," Gyeongseok says instead. He doesn't want to freak her out.
As the evening wears on, they end up staying at her place.
It happens naturally: Gyeongseok, for once, doesn't have a shift, and Nayeon is already dozzing off on the couch, clutching a plushie wrapped in Hyunju’s scarf. She looks so tiny and peaceful there, curled up against the large couch. Gyeongseok wants to thank Hyunju and take his daughter back home, but the woman stops him with a weak hand, shyly offers them to stay the night.
"I don't mind," she explains. "And Nayeon is already sleeping. Plus, it's closer to the amusement park, so she can sleep more."
Gyeongseok was already convinced to stay since she stopped him, so he easily agrees, and they unfold a blanket over Nayeon's body.
There is a window of awkwardness once it's done: the air is thick with apprehension. Gyeongseok doesn't know if it's all his imagination or if there really is a tension lingering in the room.
They brush their teeth like teenagers having their first sleepovers, hiding giggles behind their toothbrushes. It's the happiest Gyeongseok has felt in a really long time, so he clings to Hyunju's smile like a lifeline. He watches as she removes her makeup, himself washing his face, something he's ashamed to admit he never really did.
In her bathroom cabinet, he catches the endless nail polish jars, and there is he, again, imagining the younger woman painting yellow and blue on him and taking pictures while he half-heartedly complains about it.
They change into their sleepwear separately. She hands him a pair of oversized sweatpants and a shirt, and he pretends not to notice how loose they are on him.
"I can sleep on the floor," she whispers quietly in the living room.
Nayeon is still sound asleep next to them, sometimes cutting through the quietness by making a soft sound, and Gyeongseok shakes his head.
"It's fine. I'll sleep on the floor."
He feels stupid with how enamored he is by Hyunju, even like this: her skin glows with all the serum and lotion she put on it, and her hair is tied in a little ponytail behind her head. She looks tired, all sleepy in a huge sweater that reaches below her hips. Gyeongseok wants nothing but to hug her, but he doesn't want to ruin anything, so he just follows her to her room.
"I won't feel good if I make my guest sleep on the floor."
She's already putting a spare blanket and pillow next to the bed.
"And I won't feel good if I hog the bed of the person who welcomed me," he grabs her wrist to gently stop her.
She looks up at him, eyes round and mouth parted. She's so close, like this.
"We can...," she starts, unsure. The room is dimmed, lit only by her bedside lamp, and it makes her eyelash cast shadows on her cheeks. "We can share the bed. It's big enough for two."
Gyeongseok glances at the bed in question- it's a double bed, so of course it would be big enough. He doesn't want to make her feel uncomfortable by sleeping in the same bed as her, but he also thinks she'd be more uncomfortable if he rejects her, and it'd end up in another fight about who's sleeping on the floor anyway.
"Okay," he agrees.
They settle quickly into bed, Hyunju turning on her side to face him while Gyeongseok stays on his back, staring at the ceiling. The soft light from the street outside filters in, bathing the room in a muted glow. It’s enough for them to make out the outlines of each other. Such as the shape of Gyeongseok's hand grabbing onto Hyunju's, tracing the empty fingers, rid of rings.
"Do you think a lot of people went back there?", he asks.
There is a soft sigh, next to him. He's tempted to turn his head to look at her, but Hyunju softly interlocks their fingers, thumb brushing on his skin.
"I hope not," she replies. "At least, for certain people."
Gyeongseok agrees. He hopes the mother and the son stayed safe, the pregnant girl too. He figures 456 probably went back. The purple-haired young man as well. That annoying shaman woman.
They're probably dead, by now.
"I'm glad you didn't go," he turns his head to look at her as he says it.
She looks so vulnerable, like this: tucked under her blanket, hair spread out on the pillow. Their fingers tangle and untangle, and Gyeongseok goes to completely lie on his side, facing her. He wants to keep her safe, wants to make sure she's always like this: happy, warm, comfortable. He wants to lie down here every night, to hold her hand while Nayeon is tucked with her plushie in another room, far from any worries.
"Me too," she mouths more than speak.
He remembers her visiting the convenience store after the game, checking to see if he went back or not. He remembers her introducing herself, eating those spicy noodles he can't stomach well. He remembers all of it, and feels a deep sense of nostalgia at the thought of him missing it if any of them went back to the game. No amount of money could replace this.
"Good night, oppa," Hyunju tells him, shifting so they are closer, foreheads almost touching.
Gyeongseok's breath catches in his throat. He knows he loves her, knows it in a way that feels undeniable. Without thinking, he reaches up, gently cupping her cheek and presses a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips brushing against her hair.
Hyunju makes a soft noise of surprise in the back of her throat.
The room is soft and quiet, save for the gentle breathing of both Hyunju and Gyeongseok as they drift into sleep. The warmth of her body against his, the closeness, the familiar weight of her hand in his; everything feels right.
For once, Gyeongseok is no longer haunted by his past or the creeping worries about the future. It's just them, together in a way he never imagined he'd find again, in the middle of the chaos that is their life and their past.
He lets out a quiet sigh, feeling the overwhelming sense of happiness in his chest.
Nayeon is still asleep in the other room, the quiet hum of her soft snoring a reminder that for tonight, she is safe, she is loved, and nothing else matters.
His heart swells when he thinks about it all- about how much Hyunju has come to mean to him. The gentleness, the way she made him laugh again, the moments of silence. And now this: this moment when he isn't just a father or a man surviving from day to day. He’s someone who has a chance at something more.
Hyunju shifts closer in her sleep, her hair falling into her face, and Gyeongseok brushes it gently away, careful not to wake her. As his fingertips graze her skin, he feels a tenderness that feels new yet familiar.
I love you, he thinks silently, his breath steady but his mind racing. But saying it seems like an impossible thing, so he keeps it locked inside, for now.
He presses his forehead against hers, savoring the moment, closing his eyes.
"Good night, Hyunj-ah."