Chapter Text
Gi-hun had always been optimistic, but even he couldn’t believe that sometimes hard work did pay off. All his life, jobs had been coming and going like a twisted game of cat and mouse with no cat or mouse, no winner, and most importantly, no end in sight. But now, he had some form of security, even just for a year (albeit with a lower pay than he would have hoped, but at least it was something) - a contract with a professional orchestra. He hadn’t told his mother that he was auditioning, so perhaps this could be a perfect surprise; he could move out and give her some space, god knows she needed it.
For the next few days, Gi-hun ruthlessly scoured the internet for any places with rent as cheap as they came. He tried his best to find a place without a roommate - living alone was one of the reasons he needed to move out - but at that point, anything would suffice. He scrolled past countless unreasonable prices, some even demanding thousands of dollars a week. With a disheartened yawn, Gi-hun took a look at one last listing, fully expecting another disappointing result. What turned up was far from disappointing. $50. A week. The drowsiness in his body completely dissolved, leaving him wide-eyed and gaping. There was no way that was real, right? It didn’t even matter that the listing pointed out that he’d be sharing with a roommate - no one could pass up on such an opportunity. With a giddy feeling settled in his stomach and a widening smile settled on his face, Gi-hun messaged the attached number, silently praising the person who created the listing - ‘Young-il’ - as a god.
Surprisingly, he heard back quicker than he had anticipated, getting a response the very next morning. And even better? He had been accepted. Straight away, he began stuffing all of his belongings into a black duffle bag - all of which didn’t amount to much, leaving his bag half empty and looking very sad. Maybe his violin would make up for the limited supplies - after all, he wouldn’t want anyone to connect the dots that he didn’t have much in terms of material belongings. He couldn’t let on that he was hardly going to be able to pay for the rent even at such a low price. Gi-hun sighed and looked at the clock - he was expected at the apartment in just over an hour. This whole unorthodox meet-the-next-day-and-move-straight-in did concern him, but he couldn’t just let such an opportunity as this see him by. He had to at least check it out.
The house’s address was close enough, so it seemed reasonable to walk - or at least that’s what he told himself, after all, driving without a car would be a challenging task. In the silence of the banal street, Gi-hun found himself with nothing to keep his mind shielded from worry. The listing didn’t even have any visual representation of what it would look like at all, so there was a fairly high chance he would be given a cardboard box with the letters ‘house’ drawn on it. Or what if the whole listing was fake? What if he was about to stumble into a criminal organisation that finds its targets in broke, naive strangers stupid enough to think that someone would offer them such a price? Gi-hun tried not to dwell on that thought and reminded himself with haste that he could simply refuse the offer or even run at the first sight of danger.
He was a little disheartened by the fact that he was going in the opposite direction to where the concert hall he’d be rehearsing was in and found himself trying to gauge just how long it would take him every morning to get there on time. It already seemed like this new place wouldn’t be the best fit for him, but the temptation of that almost trivial rent urged him to put his fears aside, even just so he could take a look.
The trees became richer and denser, while people and houses seemed to disperse. It was overall a much nicer place to be - the window of nature opened in every direction he looked. However, the lack of human activity in the area only worked to undermine his hopes about the house, no matter how beautiful it appeared. But time to dwell on such thoughts grew thin as the mechanical voice on his phone told him that his destination was in about 500 metres, just beyond the upcoming hill. As he got closer, a (relatively) small mansion came into view. Elaborate and rather unnecessary fountains and shrubs framed the white marble structure, with a heavy set of oak double doors Gi-hun doubted he could even get open. But hey, that meant at least he had rich neighbours - perhaps they’d be willing to give him a ride into town to get to the concert hall? He pressed on, keeping a lookout for another building until the navigation told him to turn around. It didn’t make sense. The only house around was definitely not the right one. Unless…? He sighed - why would he even entertain such a thought? There was no way anyone would be so stupid as to let someone move into a mansion for such petty change. But given he didn’t really have any options left, he decided that the best course of action would be to ask the owner of the mansion for assistance.
He sped briskly down the paved footpath, not wanting to appear like he was trespassing - the less time spent on the property, the better. As he approached the front doors, he felt a hand firmly grip his shoulder, and something cold pressed into his back.
“Are you Mr. Seong Gi-hun?”
He nodded hastily, now very aware of what this situation looked like. He was sweaty and tired and grimy from the long trek there, not to mention pretty much homeless, and he was definitely trespassing. Maybe jail food did taste nice, despite the stereotype? Or maybe jail was going a bit too far-
“Right this way.” The man behind him dropped the gun and stepped beside him. Now able to get a good look at his ambusher, he could see that he was quite a bit younger than himself and wore a black suit with a neat pink tie. A triangular enamel pin sat on his chest, and around his waist was a belt that held what seemed to be a radio, accompanied by yet another gun. Despite really, really wanting to just turn and leave, disobeying someone with two firearms seemed like a very poor choice.
The man, or as Gi-hun would argue, boy, said something vaguely sensical through his radio and stood silently as the huge, wooden doors swung open, revealing the inside of the mansion. It was pretty much all either black or gold and had a scattering of young men and women dressed much like the one that guided him in, except their pins were all circular. As he took it all in, he failed to notice the door closing behind him, and by the time he turned, it was completely sealed. Panicked, Gi-hun ruffled through each of his pockets for his phone, before finally finding it and getting the dialing screen open. But before he could call anyone, a lady’s voice interrupted him.
“Is it to your liking, sir?”
He looked up and saw a young woman wearing the exact same suit as everyone else but with a square pin in place of the other shapes.
“I’m sorry?” Gi-hun hesitated, far from knowing what the hell was happening.
“This house. Is it to your liking?” She repeated, “Or perhaps you require a tour?”
Her tone was rather intimidating for a shrimpy man like him, and so he found himself nodding along to whatever she was saying.
“Excellent. I’ll show you to your bedroom and you can sign the paperwork later today.”
The two walked up a long set of stairs, the only sound the echoing clicks of the lady’s shoes. The house was definitely going for more of a minimalistic feel - if you could even call a mansion of this size ‘minimalistic’; the walls had no decoration, and it felt almost empty. Almost lonely. But the current issue at hand was that Gi-hun had essentially stumbled into a maze. Every turn in the impossibly large building left him disoriented and confused, with his only source of guidance being a random woman that he had labelled a potential threat. They soon arrived at a small door in the middle of a hallway, just as devoid of personality as the rest of the house. The lady handed Gi-hun a key.
“Don’t lose it, you only get one.”
She dropped them into his outstretched hands and watched as he fumbled to open the door. After a subtle click proved him successful, she bid him farewell and left back the way they came.
Gi-hun swung the door open and groped for the light switch to illuminate the dark room. The warm light seeped through the room, exposing a door he assumed connected to a bathroom, a large bed, a desk, and a window overlooking the greenery outside. He placed his violin on said desk, placed his bag on the chair accompanying it, and closed the door. Once he was certain he was alone, he leaped onto the bed and pulled out his phone, kicking his feet in the air like a tween at a sleepover. He really had hit the jackpot. All doubt of this place’s sincerity left once that key had unlocked the door. And now that he had some time alone while waiting for the landlord to come home, he figured now was a good time to learn more about the orchestra he was joining. Gi-hun scrolled through his starred emails until he found what he was looking for. He opened the attached file and scanned over the list of names. When he had originally got the email, he had only looked for his name among the sea of letters, disregarding anything else. Now that he had time, he figured that the name he ought to know of was his desk partner, reasoning that perhaps by the name he could make an assumption about them. What he didn’t expect was to recognise who it was. Jung-bae. He smiled to himself - it had been way too long.
Gi-hun spent most of the day rotting in bed, and with an occasional burst of confidence, he scouted out the nearby halls in an attempt to get a rough grip on how to get back to the entrance. These attempts proved futile, as Gi-hun still had no idea by the fifth time. He decided that it would be tomorrow’s problem. For the moment, he needed to get some sleep - after all, he had a busy day of work in the morning. Just to be on the safe side, Gi-hun set an alarm for 6 o’clock, giving him 3 whole hours to get there on time.
In a half-awake daze, Gi-hun could’ve sworn he heard someone walk into his room and sigh. And he was certain he felt that same person extend a warm hand and pull the messy bedsheets back over his shivering body.
A loud alarm jolted him awake, and Gi-hun reached desperately to turn his phone off. After his success, he nestled back into the sheets, closing his eyes once more. The peace of the birds whistling and golden rays of the early sun lasted for approximately half a second before he jumped out of bed in panic. He checked the phone, which read: 6:00. He let out a sigh of relief before rummaging through his bag, looking for something suitable to wear to the first rehearsal. Despite having been playing violin for almost his whole life, Gi-hun had never been part of a professional orchestra before. And if he was being honest, the whole idea was a little daunting. He had no idea what to wear, how early to turn up, or even how long breaks were - if they had any. Gi-hun ultimately decided to wear his grey hoodie - it wasn’t like it was the dress rehearsal or anything.
The minutes that Gi-hun spent searching the halls for an exit gradually shifted to an hour just as he found the grand staircase that he had walked up earlier yesterday. He winced as he saw the time had already passed 7:08. Maybe if he walked extra fast he could make it? He ran down the steps, before suddenly stopping at the doors. He felt like he was missing something; his hands felt abnormally light. Gi-hun patted down his pockets before realising with a pang of stupidity that he had left his violin in his room. His resolve shattered instantly as he turned to eye the maze once more.
7:56. Just over an hour should have been enough time to get to the rehearsal without skipping too much important content, right? Gi-hun could not have been more wrong. By the time he entered the hall, it was about 10. Not only was he late, but by an hour no less. Gi-hun hesitantly unpacked in the corridor already littered with cases, listening intently to the music coming from a nearby room. Perhaps he could pretend he came down with a sudden fever and couldn’t make it? Or maybe he got lost. Or maybe for once, he could just tell the truth. After hearing a suitably long pause in the playing, Gi-hun entered the room as quietly as he could. He instantly spotted Jung-bae among all the faces in the crowd and thanked the lord for his luck. He slipped quietly into the empty chair at the back of the second violins, almost thankful that he had such a trifling position because it meant no one would notice his sudden arrival.
“Gi-hun?” Jung-bae whispered as quietly as he could while the cellos were being singled out to play a specific passage.
“Well you look pleased to see me,” Gi-hun muttered sarcastically upon seeing his friend’s frown.
“No- it’s just that- when I saw the seating positions I didn’t actually expect it to be you. I thought maybe I was hoping too much.” Jung-bae’s attention snapped towards the conductor when an awkward silence fell in the room. “We can talk later, maybe after rehearsal.”
Gi-hun paused and then nudged him, “Over drinks? Don’t forget you still owe me.”
Gi-hun didn’t look up from his sheet music once. Although he had played this piece before, Shostakovich’s symphony number 12 was extremely difficult in his eyes. He felt like he had been sucked into a whirlwind with all the different sounds racing around the room, and before he knew it, it was time for the orchestra to take a break. He was pretty sure he hadn’t gotten even one entry right. Everyone gradually stood up, returning to their cases to refresh and relax. Soon Jung-bae joined them, and not knowing what he should be doing, Gi-hun moved to follow. But before he could reach the door, he heard someone firmly call his name. He froze and turned around, seeing only one person left in the room - his conductor. All he knew was one thing; he was screwed.
The man wearing full black across the other side of the room placed down his baton with a chilling slam, before striding slowly over to him. Up close, he was a little shorter than Gi-hun, but no less intimidating than when he was on his podium.
“Uhm, hello.” Gi-hun stuttered, “My name is Seong Gi-hun from Ssangmun-dong, and I-”
“I’m aware of who you are.” He cut him off, jaw clenching in an attempt to restrain from yelling, “I have a question for you, Mr. Seong - are you aware of when this rehearsal starts?”
Gi-hun stepped back a bit, painfully aware of his conductor inching closer.
“Ah, well. You see- I moved into this new place and-”
“I expect to see you at 8:00 every morning from here on. Otherwise, I won’t be requiring your services.” With that, he turned and left Gi-hun to leave the room miserably.
When he caught up to Jung-bae, who was taking his time taking a sip from a water fountain, he began to groan, “Man, who even is this prick? Making me come an hour early every day, jeez.”
“His name’s Hwang In-ho. He’s a bit cold sometimes, but I’m sure that if you got to know him, he wouldn’t be that bad.”
“You fill me with confidence.” Gi-hun started, before feeling a buzz in his pocket. He pulled out his phone and briefly scanned the notifications. Mostly missed calls from his mother, with one exception - the most recent addition to the list - ‘Please be back at the residence by 7 p.m. to sign your contract’. He checked the time, which read 10:45.
“Hey, do you know any place close to here that has good drinks?”
“Still trying to scam me into feeding your alcoholic ways?”
Gi-hun shot him a pout - they had already established that Jung-bae owed him one. His friend laughed and slapped him on the back,
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”
The rest of the rehearsal went fairly smoothly, with Gi-hun only catching about three pissed-off glances from his conductor. After they had been dismissed, Jung-bae and Gi-hun headed to a local bar for some much-needed catch-up. After all, the last time either of them had seen the other was either gambling or smoking - neither of which being a good way to leave someone. And despite it being midday, both of them found a way to end up a little bit more than tipsy to the point where they were kicked out for singing too loudly.
It was about four by the time they split ways, with Jung-bae going straight back to his house and Gi-hun taking a rather round-a-bout way back. Still being as intoxicated as he was, he found himself drawn to certain random places. For instance, he couldn’t tear his eyes from the flowing water under a bridge or even from the ducks that splashed up droplets that refracted rainbows. He watched them with a smile on his face, apologising profusely that he didn’t have any frozen peas or bread for them, which attracted quite a few stares. And when he was done with the ducks, the trees on the side of the footpath suddenly became so vibrant in colour and choreographed their own special dance for him. He swung his violin subtly in his hand and felt an extra spring in his step as he proceeded back to the house. It was amazing what the smallest amount of alcohol could do to someone.
He continued on a loopy path back, getting so sidetracked that it was dark when he returned. A jittery man in a suit instantly directed him inside, and it soon became apparent why he was in that disposition. There he was: standing in the middle of the bustling room, eyes glued to his phone, tapping it with subtle impatience. It was his conductor. He could felt himself sober, before anxiously walking up to him.
“Hey… Mr. Hwang?” Calling him that didn’t really sit right; it lurched off his tongue in a strangled attempt to speak somewhat normally. “I’m sorry but,” Gi-hun tried to suppress the tremble in his voice that simply looking at the other man could surface, “I’ve already applied for this residence. I don’t think Oh Young-il is looking for two roommates. I just came back to sign the…” His voice trailed off seeing In-ho’s somewhat irritated, somewhat amused smirk. And then it clicked - his eyes trailed to the documents under In-ho’s arm - Young-il was a fake name.
“Oh.” He blinked, completely taken aback that someone in the classical music industry could afford such a house without being world-class.
“Sign here.” In-ho handed him a sheet of paper filled to the brim with fine text.
If Gi-hun wasn’t already confused, he certainly was now.
“You still want me to live here? I’m…” He checked his phone, “... 2 hours late. And I was also late to rehearsal and barely knew what I was doing and-”
In-ho didn’t take his eyes off Gi-hun as he reached into his pocket, producing a pen and waving it gently. By this point, Gi-hun was absolutely too tired to think about how much worse his life would get if he moved in, and all he could reason was that signing would get him a bed faster. So without any questioning or hesitation, he inked his name onto the page and watched as the chaos abruptly stopped in the room like clockwork, with every guard returning to what they had been doing as if nothing had interrupted them.
“Great.” In-ho’s lips curved as he slipped his arm around Gi-hun’s shoulder, who flinched slightly at the sudden contact. The shorter man guided him up the staircase which seemed, in his over-exhausted state, far longer than he remembered. They continued for his room, Gi-hun really beginning to feel the side effects of the first work he’d done in ages mixed with alcohol. His eyes fluctuated between open and closed as he let out a stifled yawn, trying his hardest to make it back to the room before he completely collapsed. At that moment, Gi-hun felt a wave of drowsiness sweep over him and he could think of nothing more than resting his head - even just for a moment. He relaxed a little and leaned into In-ho some more, shivering slightly at the contrast between the cold air and his burning skin. However, this illusion of warmth was quickly shattered as In-ho calmly removed his arm and stepped away ever so slightly, eyes now curiously watching Gi-hun’s next reactions. But surprisingly, he didn’t even stop to apologise, far too out of it to even notice what he did. In-ho reciprocated the mood and proceeded forward like nothing had happened.
By the time Gi-hun made it back to his room, he had completely forgotten about the pressure tomorrow would bring, and only remembered the familiar feeling of a good night’s sleep. His dreams were largely empty, with only one thing in common: disappointment. Whether it was his mother desperately asking him where their lives had gone wrong or why he didn’t have a job, it always floated around in the back of his mind. And tonight was no different; this time, however, all he could see was a sigh drawn on his conductor’s frown.
The next morning, Gi-hun headed downstairs, head savaged from the devastating feeling of somewhat a hangover, grogginess of the morning, and exhaustion. He was greeted by a guard who worked at the house and guided towards a room he hadn’t been in yet. The center of the room had a large table made of some sort of black material and had one placemat set. He was prompted to sit down, before being left completely alone with the expensive-looking cutlery. After a moment, a guard brought him a large menu, mostly filled with dishes he doubted he could pronounce, let alone recognize. Not really wanting to try a mystery meal right before work, Gi-hun decided to ask, “Sir, do you know where In-ho is? You know - short, intimidating? That guy?”
The man in the suit tilted his head slightly before pulling out a radio from his belt and repeating his query into it.
After a moment, Gi-hun was guided out of the room and into a much brighter one - how could it not be - a whole wall was made of glass and had a direct ray of sunlight brushing through it. The room was divided into two main parts: a slightly elevated section with a modern kitchen in it, and another one down a couple of steps. That section had a relatively small table, seating a very curious In-ho. He had a plate of eggs and toast placed in front of him, and a newspaper on his left. A guard pulled the chair out opposite him and beckoned Gi-hun to sit down. He anxiously did so, eyes landing everywhere but the reason he had asked to change rooms. He wasn’t even sure why he wanted to join him - he made Gi-hun more stressed than anything else, and it wasn’t like it was any fun to be around someone like that. But it was better than being lonely.
Once the guard had left, the silence was all-enveloping and unbearably awkward, so Gi-hun decided to speak up.
“Um, Mr. Hwang-”
“In-ho.” He corrected, locking eyes with Gi-hun.
“... right. Well, I was thinking that since I didn’t know that you were, you know, kinda my boss when I moved in, I feel like I should maybe reconsider that decision. I don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable-”
“I don’t feel uncomfortable.” In-ho interrupted for the second time. “Not that it matters - your contract specifically states that it lasts, at the very least, a month.” He looked at the clock on the wall, “Anyways, we should think about getting ready to head off - today full-length rehearsals start and we wouldn’t want to be late, would we?”
Gi-hun looked down after the pointed accusation before slowly standing up, “I should probably get walking then.”
Gi-hun watched as In-ho put together the pieces as to why he was so atrociously late the day before. “Do you want a lift?”
He hesitated, before steadfastly deciding, “I don’t want anyone to see us arriving together and get the wrong idea - but thank you for the offer.” He flashed an awkward smile.
As Gi-hun turned to leave, In-ho hastily added, “People don’t usually arrive as early as we’ll be getting there, and besides, if you walk you’ll be late. I heard the conductor doesn’t like people who are tardy.”
He desperately tried to convince himself that In-ho was just politely warning him and that it wasn’t outright blackmail.
A little while later, In-ho led Gi-hun to a massive garage, with one black limousine standing out of place in the centre. A guard sat behind the wheel, and the two took the back seats. Gi-hun’s eyes were attracted to a giant golden pig in the middle of the car, but didn’t bother asking what on earth its purpose was. However, that didn’t stop him from asking other questions, since one had been burning inside him since he signed the contract.
“Why did you let me stay in your house? I thought you said you didn’t like people who aren’t punctual - and I was late on two separate occasions.”
In-ho waited for the roar of the starting engine to calm before answering,
“I was curious.”
He didn’t elaborate, and Gi-hun didn’t feel like he was in the right position to push, so he let the trip descend into a steady silence.
To no one’s surprise, the car made the journey hours shorter - they arrived at 8 o’clock sharp. As they made it into the auditorium, In-ho made his way straight to the podium, pulling out a giant black folder, in which he began lightly scribbling in edits and reminders to the score. Gi-hun became mesmerised by his actions - from the frown of his concentration to the way his eyes softened after being satisfied with his writings. He looked peaceful, maybe even happy. Seeing that made Gi-hun smile. He wasn’t sure how long he had been staring, but it certainly wasn’t long before In-ho cottoned on.
“Are you just going to stand there? Make yourself useful and help set up the chairs.”
The smile on Gi-hun’s face faltered immediately. He just had to open his mouth and remind him that he was a prick.
It was 8:30 by the time Gi-hun had finished, and that was about the time that other players began to crowd outside the doors. And conveniently, the staff members meant to set up everything arrived with them. It took all of Gi-hun’s self-control not to walk up to his conductor and slap him. At least maybe Jung-bae could calm him down - he desperately needed someone to hear about this soap opera-esque situation he found himself planted in the middle of.
People eventually wandered into the auditorium, instruments and pencils in their hands, and took their seats. Now having the pleasure of not running completely late, Gi-hun was able to take a closer look at his colleagues. There were two young women that mainly stuck out to him - both were cellists and the taller of the two was seated one chair directly in front of the other. The one in the back had brighter hair and a nose-piercing, while the other had short black hair and a scar on her neck. Gi-hun watched them for a bit before sitting down at his desk asking Jung-bae their names.
“Do you think I know everything? Jeez, just remember their desks and find their names on the email in the break or something.” He gave a grin and elbowed Gi-hun, “Why? Are they your type?”
“What? No!” Gi-hun reflexively looked up to see if In-ho had heard him, completely confused as to why - it didn’t matter what he thought of Gi-hun. “They just looked… happy. That’s all.”
“Aren’t you happy with my company?” He asked jokingly, but paused after getting no response from his friend, “That’s not like you to say. What’s wrong?”
“I feel like I’ve walked into something that I know will make my life awkward and miserable, but part of me can’t even comprehend giving up on it by choice. Mann, none of this makes any sense.”
“What exactly-”
Jung-bae was abruptly interrupted by the concertmaster’s A string, and had no other choice but to discard his train of thought.
The rehearsal was long and dreary - it was at least six hours of just playing. And yet, everytime Gi-hun looked up at In-ho, he was always staring back. It wasn’t just one or two times that he noticed this - if that were the case, he could have assumed it was coincidence. No, it was every time. It was an understatement to say it made him embarrassed - his face flushed uncontrollably due to the overwhelming attention. And once he looked away, out of the corner of his eye, he would always see In-ho’s satisfied smirk.