Chapter Text
Honestly, iTrapped doesn't know what he's doing here.
Everything feels distant, like he’s not really there. All he knows is that he’s on a mission—he just has to get that key… no matter what it takes.
Right now, he was just… standing there, waiting. For his plan to begin. He had heard some rumors—ones that told him about the key’s location—and it was in the possession of the heir to the infamous casino owner, also known as Chance. Right now, his plan was simple—he just needed to pretend to be their friend, to get closer to them, and then steal the key. After that, he could just use it to free his friends. It was a simple, easy plan. Nothing could possibly go wrong.
But that's what he tells himself, anyway. It's a comforting lie of sorts—it’s one he repeated to himself so many times, he’s actually starting to believe it.
iTrapped doesn't think he's a bad person. Some might think he is, but he’s only trying to save his friends… even if the cost meant that he had to betray someone else.
This casino owner… was elusive, someone he didn't quite know. Chance was their name. He had heard rumours of them participating in their own games at the casino, and being extremely lucky—but that was all he knew. He wasn't the one for gambling… but he did know how to read people. And he was relying on that to help him, especially in such an unfamiliar place. He knows what to say, what are the right words to use to get someone to slip. He just needed to ask enough questions to seem interested. And if need be, he could flatter their ego, take a few drinks to get their lips to run loose—he’s done it before. This… should be no different.
But right now, standing just outside the place, something feels… off. He’s never done something like this alone, let alone for such an extended period of time. He’s not scared, not at all—but he is nervous. Just a little.
It’ll probably be fine, right? He doesn't quite know.
iTrapped takes a step inside.
The first thing he notices is how loud everything is. There's laughter coming from everywhere, spilling from all around him. The air smells of alcohol and smoke, and it feels too bitter for iTrapped to endure.
He takes a deep breath. Everything will be fine. He just… had to stay calm.
He straightens his posture, and forces his expression into something neutral, before moving towards the bar.
The bar is quieter, a welcome sight from the chaos of the casino. He settles into a seat at the end—he’s chosen this spot deliberately. It’s at an empty corner, tucked just far enough from the main crowd. He makes sure to leave an empty stool beside him—it’s an invitation to sit, whether anyone else realises it or not.
He rests one elbow on the counter, then orders a glass of whiskey. It’s something to drink the nerves away.
Then, he waits.
It seems like an eternity before anything happens. iTrapped lets his gaze wander about, glancing at the bottles of wine and all other kinds of fancy alcohol displayed behind the counter. He knows they will show up any moment now—Chance always made it a point of introducing himself to the newcomers, especially ones he didn't recognise, who always seemed uneasy. And right now, iTrapped didn't look like he belonged here—not with his disinterested gaze, or his well-kept, crisp clothes.
iTrapped knew what kind of person Chance was. He had already memorised the tells they had—from the way he adjusts his fedora when he’s pleased after a big win, or when he pushes his shades a little higher to hide something in his expression. His laughter is loud, in a way that demands attention from the crowd—in iTrapped’s eyes, he seems a little naive and arrogant.
It doesn't take much to get him talking. He just needed to drop some compliments, and fake some interest in whatever he’s talking about… Chance’s an easy man to flatter.
Then, he hears it. The sound of footsteps approaching him.
There he is.
With his fedora tilted a little to the side, and his shades still on despite the dim lighting in the place, is Chance, walking right towards iTrapped. He moves with an easy confidence, and people glance over, recognising him immediately.
He seems to spot the empty seat beside iTrapped, and slides into it without any hesitation. He doesn't even ask… typical. But that's what iTrapped want—for their conversation to feel natural, and not forced.
Chance’s voice is warm, welcoming. iTrapped doesn't miss the little chuckle that nearly slips out.
“Why, hello there.”
iTrapped turns his head slightly, just enough to acknowledge their presence. He doesn't want to come across as too eager, but he doesn't want to seem dismissive either. His eyes flicker over to Chance briefly, then back to his glass.
The man smiles. It's confident, all teeth and ease. “Didn't expect to see a new face around here… we don't get that often."
"I figured a change of place would be nice. It’s just for tonight, though.”
iTrapped can feel the way their gaze lingers on him, already studying this new visitor in front of them. They already seem interested in him.
The hook is set.
“Just for tonight, huh? Well, I suppose I need to make it worth your while.”
“I’ll have whatever he’s having,” Chance murmurs, then gestures towards iTrapped. The bartender gives a small nod of acknowledgement, before going off to make the drink.
Then, Chance turns to iTrapped. He seems curious, yet hesitant. Like he's… testing him. What could someone like iTrapped be doing here? He looks nothing like the gambling type, nor does he seem to have a habit of drinking.
“The name’s Chance," he says, his voice sounding confident, before offering his hand. "And you are…?”
“iTrapped." He accepts their hand, giving it a brisk shake in return. “It's a pleasure to meet you."
“iTrapped, huh?” Chance mutters, chuckling under his breath. As he pulls away, his thumb brushes briefly over the back of iTrapped’s hand—one that's meant to be reassuring. “That's a unique name… I ain't heard nothing like it before.”
Did they somehow pick up on how nervous he’s feeling? Maybe he thinks it's because iTrapped isn't used to this sort of place. Whatever the case was, it benefitted him, so he didn't point it out.
iTrapped lets out a small, restrained laugh. He hopes they don't notice. "I suppose so."
He’s just about to ask something else when the bartender interrupts him, by setting Chance’s drink down on the counter.
“Thanks, pal."
Chance doesn't hesitate—instead, they lift it immediately, and take a generous gulp. Despite the burn in his throat, he continues to grin, acting like it never bothered him at all. Then, he places the glass down, and turns to face iTrapped.
“So,” Chance asks, his voice curious, “what are you doing around here? I don't mean to judge, but this doesn’t seem like your type of place.”
Although the smile never leaves his face, iTrapped sees right through their facade—they’re testing him. Their eyes narrow, almost as if they’re picking him apart, and deciding if they could even trust him.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” iTrapped replies smoothly, his finger tracing the rim of the glass in a slow, thoughtful circle. He mustn't falter now—he has to stay calm, and act like everything is normal. “Just thought I’d check things out here, y’know? As a treat for myself. I was planning to get a couple of drinks, meet some new people… all of that.”
“I see.” Chance nods, listening intently. His gaze softens, no longer judging—it’s like he’s decided iTrapped’s answer was acceptable… for now. “Well, you’ve come to the right place!" He laughs warmly, and claps a hand onto iTrapped’s shoulder. "We’ve got the best drinks in town, and the best odds! Ain’t nothin’ rigged here, unlike those damn Sonnelinos—”
He stops mid-sentence, and immediately cuts himself off. “I mean," he adds quickly, waving the sudden interruption off. "I run a fair and honest business—everyone here can be a winner!”
Chance is loud. Way too loud. Even in this casino full of drunken cheers and distraught yells, his voice somehow rises above it all, a shrill sound cutting through the noise. Everything is too loud for him—it makes him want to hide away, and crawl out of this desolate place.
But he doesn't. He stays, despite wanting nothing more than to leave. He continued to listen to them, pretending that they weren't bothering him at all. He just… had to endure.
Meanwhile, Chance is caught up in his own words, not really paying attention to iTrapped’s reactions. And iTrapped is grateful for that—he’s not sure how he would handle their questions.
“That is, unless you’re playin’ with me!”
Oh. He’s still talking. iTrapped didn't realise. What is he talking about again? Right. He needs to focus.
“Then, I’d suggest you sit it out… unless you want to lose.”
There it is—that same arrogance that iTrapped despises. He remembers something he had heard a while back—about why this casino was so infamous. That was because of Chance, and his incredible bout of luck. He was so incredibly lucky that it was rumoured he had never lost a game in his life. iTrapped doubts it, though. No one could be that lucky, right? It must be some exaggeration on their part.
iTrapped shrugs, realising it's been a while since he last spoke. He tries to appear like he’s interested, like he’s been listening to them talk all this time. “Well, I’ve had my fair share of luck.”
iTrapped smiles, a small, cunning curve tugging at his lips. “Who knows… maybe I could be the one to beat you.” He poses his words as a challenge—an open invitation, the kind he knows Chance likes.
Chance laughs again, leaning closer to iTrapped. “Oh, you’re confident! I like that.” His eyes gleam with renewed interest, with something deeper hidden beneath that charm. “How about a game, then? I’ll let you pick."
iTrapped’s fingers tighten around his glass. It sounds tempting to agree—he wants to outplay them, and prove that they're not as invincible as they think they are.
But he knows he can’t. At least, not yet.
"I’m not feeling it tonight,” he says, offering a flimsy excuse. Maybe he’ll play some other time… and use it as an opportunity to talk to them again.
Chance’s smile falters. “Oh." He straightens in his seat, that facade of confidence slipping just a little. "You’re not the type? I figured you were…”
“No, it's not that," iTrapped begins, before shaking his head, something meant as an apologetic gesture. He’s careful not to look too closed off—he can't afford that. He needs to keep Chance interested in him. “I’m just… tired. Just thought I’d enjoy a drink or two.”
“I see." Chance nods slowly, like he’s processing their words. After a moment, he slides off the stool, pushing it back with his foot. “I’ll… leave you to it, then.”
That's when the panic began to rise—he didn't mean for them to leave. They can't… iTrapped has to make it seem like it's worth his time.
Before he can stop himself, iTrapped is already reaching out, his fingers closing around Chance’s wrist. He must look desperate now—clinging onto Chance, hoping they wouldn't leave.
"Sorry,” he mumbles quickly, loosening his grip on them, but not pulling away entirely just yet. "I should have made it clearer. I… wouldn't mind your company. Drinking by myself… would be lonely, don't you think?”
Chance freezes for a second, and looks down at where iTrapped’s hand is. It's wrapped firmly around his rest, more of a plea to stay, rather than something keeping him trapped.
“You’ll stay with me… right?”
Maybe they’re lonely, just like him, and need a friend to air their grievances out. He blinks, surprised. He never expected them to be like this—he had something else entirely in mind. He smiles once more—slower this time, but more sincere—before settling back onto the stool. "...yeah, I will."
“What kind of host would I be, leaving you here all by yourself?”
“Exactly." iTrapped lets go, and instantly begins to relax after knowing Chance was planning to stay. "And besides… I wouldn't mind playing a game or two with you, sometime. Just… not tonight.”
Chance’s grin widens. “Sounds great!" He lifts his glass, and takes another gulp. “I’m free anytime—you just let me know, yeah?"
And just like that, it's done. Another meeting secured for the future… and another opening for iTrapped to win Chance’s trust.
“Of course." iTrapped smiles back at them, trying to appear confident. But on the inside, his nerves are all a mess—he almost blew his chance. He has to do better. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”
Chance lets out a soft chuckle. “Call it intuition,” he says, lifting his glass slightly towards iTrapped, "but I have a feeling we’re going to be great friends.”
iTrapped’s smile doesn't waver. It’s all fake—just another part of his plan. He has to do this.
"A toast!” Chance declares, raising his glass higher.
iTrapped nods, and raises his own. Their glasses clink together in celebration.
There was no going back now.
After that, time seems to pass by quickly, becoming blurry. One drink turns into another, then another. Chance continues talking to iTrapped—all about his various, and the odds he managed to beat. The alcohol makes his lips run loose, and he sounds a little boastful, sharing about those stories without a hint of shame.
iTrapped tries his best to listen, nodding whenever he thinks he’s supposed to, and offering short replies to keep the conversation going without giving anything away. He’s starting to tune out all the noise—everything feels so far away—but still, he makes sure to look interested, or at least pretend he is. And when Chance waves off the bill and insists it's on the house, iTrapped doesn't argue. He’s not one to let such generosity go to waste.
Gradually, the crowd begins to fade. iTrapped doesn't know how late it's become… he hasn't been keeping track at all. And before long, it's just the two of them at the bar, along with a few lingering patrons and employees scattered around the casino.
Chance is drunk. Very, very drunk.
His words are slurring together, and his movements seem slower, less controlled than before. iTrapped isn't as affected by the alcohol, but he does admit he’s had a little more than he usually does—so maybe he is kind of drunk as well. And he can clearly tell he is—maybe it’s from the feeling of warmth creeping onto his face, or the fact that his head feels a little heavier than before.
“’Trap…?” Chance squints at him, leaning closer. He’s already been reduced to nothing more than a nickname. Not that he minds—it’s perfect for his plan. “You good?”
“Mm, yeah.” iTrapped can't help but sway, just a little. Maybe the alcohol is worse than he thought—he hasn't drank so much in such a long time. “I’m fine…”
Chance notices it right away. He reaches over and takes the glass from iTrapped’s hand, stopping him from taking another sip. “I think that's enough.”
iTrapped doesn’t argue… he knows he can’t. He doesn’t want to risk spilling anything, especially when he can barely control himself properly. Maybe he should take one more sip to drown it all out… no, he better not.
“Fine…” he mumbles quietly, letting his hand fall back into his lap. He doesn’t know what compels him—maybe he feels a little lonely, without his friends , or maybe he’s a little too light-headed to think about things clearly. But he ends up leaning towards Chance, and resting his head against them.
Chance stiffens for a moment, clearly caught off guard by iTrapped. Then, he relaxes, and slips an arm around iTrapped’s shoulders, before pulling him closer. He probably thinks this clinginess is just another side effect of the alcohol—and he isn't wrong. The sudden contact makes him tense momentarily, with his instincts urging him to pull away, but he doesn't. Instead, he forces himself to stay still, and remain in that warmth
“Think I’ll… rest here a little.”
“Alright,” Chance murmurs, his voice softer now—he’s careful not to be too loud, not wanting to startle him. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Then, Chance pats iTrapped’s head once. He makes sure to be gentle—and it seems to be an action to be born out of affection. Usually, iTrapped would be disgusted by such a thing. But it feels so genuine, an act of kindness meant only to comfort him.
Chance probably believes iTrapped is lonely. That's why he’s doing this—because he believes that he needs a friend.
That thought nearly makes iTrapped choke. It’s strange… How could someone who seemed so selfish turn out to be so kind? How could anyone choose to offer affection to another so freely—especially in a world where people are always ready to take advantage of it?
Maybe iTrapped was a horrible person. No, he knows he is—he’s taking advantage of Chance’s kindness right now.
But he needs to stop thinking about them. Once he steals that damned key, he will never see him again. Chance probably finds this act amusing—maybe he’s pretending to care about iTrapped, and playing along for his own entertainment. After all, the world was a cruel place… no one could afford to give their affection out this freely, to put their heart out on their sleeve without expecting it to be broken.
He forces himself to close his eyes.
There's… nothing more to this. He’s only doing it just to free his friends. That's all. And he would do anything to save them, no matter the cost. Even if he has to hurt people who don't deserve it…
It’s all for his friends.