Chapter Text
Su-bong made his way to one of the chairs in the lobby as numerous people filtered in and out of the sliding doors of the place. He pondered on fitting a nap in before having to take the train back to his apartment. He readjusted his scarf to warm his face from the cool air that rushed in after the entryway routinely opened and closed and shut his eyes.
Three years had passed since the games ended. Only by one did the vote to leave win after the game ‘mingle.’ Su-bong could barely remember those couple of weeks – or days. What he did remember was getting thrown out of a truck and face-planting on cold concrete. He was blindfolded and yelling out incomprehensible curses to one of those guys in pink jumpsuits. Thrown after him was a sleek black case filled with cash.
He’s still pissed that the games ended when they did. He had a chance to be a billionaire, but instead, he just got money that could barely get him anywhere. If he was given another opportunity, he’d go back in an instant and hope not all the contestants were pussies.
His last contact with anyone from the games was one of the players, who he didn’t remember the face or name of, untying him. It seemed almost unreal that it ever happened, with no more money left to remind him and only hazy, drugged-up memories that came back to him every now and then.
After the games abruptly ended he was given enough cash to pay off his debts and last him a decent while. But Su-bong had never been good at handling money after (many) nights at the club whilst trying to maintain a raging drug addiction, so after three years it was practically all gone. What he got was not nearly the amount of won he was promised, and he never got to get payback for the scam MG coin caused. It was too late to be mourning what could’ve been now though, but Su-bong still gets mad when he thinks back on it.
He continued his rap career not long after getting released until he was found unconscious in one of the club bathrooms with a bottle of pills wrapped around his fingers. Thanos knows everyone heard about it though, and can’t help but feel overwhelming humiliation when he goes out in public and feels eyes on him. He didn’t want their pity, and it wasn’t as though he was trying to overdose. He wouldn’t end it in a club of all places.
Since that incident he was admitted to a rehabilitation center, having to do therapy shit for hours a day. The rules had loosened as his specialist noted he was making ‘significant progress’ and he remembers mentally thinking up a list of what drugs to buy after he gets out due to spite. Now he only has to go once a week, which is the cause of Su-bong dozing off in the sterile white room to muffled murmurs of various druggies' conversations in the background.
Suddenly Su-bong felt the touch of a hand on his shoulder, startling him back to reality unpleasantly. Who the hell did this person think they were? He was not in the mood to deal with another staff member with a saviour complex.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing.” He snapped rudely, shrugging the hand off his shoulder. He rubbed his eyes and moved to sit upright.
“Thanos?” A voice said. Shit, he did not want to deal with a fan right now.
Su-bong looked up at the person hovering above him, meeting with a familiar face. “Nam-su?” He asks, eyes widening.
Nam-su(?) brushed his inky black hair back behind his ears and let out a half laugh. “Nam-gyu but, uh, yeah.”
Thanos stared in disbelief, three years and no sign of anyone from the games and now this guy who stuck to his side like a dog found him in a rehab center. The guy looked more or less the same, maybe the hair had grown a little longer and the eyebags a bit darker, but who could tell when faces during that time for him were just a haze.
Nam-gyu moved to sit in one of the plastic seats beside him after the pause, and Su-bong juggled internally whether to tell him to fuck off again or not.
“I saw your announcement, the one where you said you were taking a break from rapping. Who knew I would find you here by coincidence.”
Thanos nods his head despite thinking how he wasn’t surprised a junkie like Nam-gyu was here. It was strange how players from the game could access information about him, but he had no other way of finding them. It ultimately furthered the thought that it was just a drug-induced hallucination.
“I’ve been to your shows - almost all of them actually. I’ve been trying to get in contact but you leave almost immediately.” Nam-gyu continued, looking away bashfully. To be fair it was an embarrassing thing to admit, this guy had to have been fangirling over him for years.
“I didn’t realise,” Thanos responded. He may have been on various substances whilst performing most nights.
Nam-gyu glanced outside one of the windows. “It’s getting late. I know this is probably not how you spend your Sundays, but would you want to come back to my place? I have–” Nam-gyu looked around for other people, leaned a little closer and made a rolling gesture with his fingers.
Su-bong let out a laugh in disbelief and shook his head. “You know what? Yeah, fuck yes man.” Due to rehab, clubs and dealers haven’t been giving him shit, so he’d take the offer because he’s been clean way longer than he’s wanted.
“Do you live near?” Thanos asked.
“It’s a bus ride away.” Came the response of Nam-gyu who tried, and failed, to hide his grin.
–
So here the rapper was, pressed up against a not-quite stranger and going to said person’s house in a crowded bus at peak hour in the late afternoon. Thanos reconsidered his decision as Nam-gyu basically fell into him with every jolt of the bus and opted to just hold onto Su-bong’s arm for stability instead.
“We get off at the next stop.” He said, noticing Thanos’ thinly concealed irritation.
They got off the bus and he was greeted by a small, empty street in Seoul. Late afternoon wind brushed past their faces, messing up Nam-gyu’s hair causing him to shiver. They made it to an apartment block and he continued to follow Nam-gyu up the stairs, who fished keys out of his pocket once they got to a door. It was such a hassle to the point where Su-bong thought of just going back to his own house. Was he really getting that desperate for drugs?
Nam-gyu rushed inside almost nervously and turned the lights on. Su-bong took his shoes off and glanced around the place. It was a small area with some clutter. “Sorry, I wasn’t planning on having people over today.” Nam-gyu rubs the back of his neck.
“All good bro,” Thanos says smoothly making his way to the couch, just glad he didn’t have to hike up the stairs anymore.
“Are you hungry? I have instant noodles–” Nam-gyu starts.
“No, it’s fine, do you have the stuff?” He asks, beginning to get impatient again.
Nam-gyu grins and nods, leaving for another room, he re-emerges not that long after with a plastic baggy in one hand and a bong in the other. “Are you okay to share?” Nam-gyu asks, sitting down next to Thanos. After Thanos nods he quickly packs the weed in and hands the other man a lighter.
“Fuck” Su-bong sighed after inhaling and ran a hand through his hair, handing the bong back over to Nam-gyu who did the same.
After a couple of hits, Thanos turned to look at Nam-gyu who’s pupils were now insanely blown out, the latter looked back at Thanos and laughed. “Dude, your eyes are so red.” He laughed, leaning in close.
Thanos squinted back at him. “No yours are,” He replied, blinking slowly as the world spun around him. Nam-gyu’s head fell on his shoulder as he laughed breathlessly.
Thanos’ nerves slowly dissipated as he sunk further into the couch. “This stuff's good, I miss it.” He lamented looking at the roof.
“Yeah?” Nam-gyu replied, face still buried in his shoulder.
“I’ve been off it – and almost every other drug because of rehab, the bitches restricted my access to everything.” Thanos scowled.
“You can have mine, really I’d have you over whenever.” Nam-gyu laughed again.
Thanos thought about the pros and cons of it before his unfocused mind quickly switched to something else. “I’m hungry man,” Thanos said, changing the topic.
“The offer for instant noodles is still up.” Nam-gyu sat up abruptly and moved to get up, swaying. Thanos rested his head against the back of the couch. Nam-gyu almost immediately stubbed his toe on the coffee table and cursed loudly before bursting out into laughter.
–
At some point in the night (?) Still high as hell Thanos stumbled into the darkness of Nam-gyu’s room, just being able to make out the bed he landed face-first on one of the pillows. Nam-gyu followed in not that long after and slumped on the bed beside him.
“Are you glad the games ended when they did?” A muffled voice said next to him.
“No.” He answered in English, forgetting he could do that. “I wanted that money, my life was shit beforehand and it still is now. Those whiny bitches fucked up my only chance to make something of it.” Thanos was, once again, pissed off because of the topic. He just focused on the feeling of lightness that the weed gave him.
“You’re practically a celebrity rapper though, you’ve done so much more than I have,” Nam-gyu reassured him.
“And you’re this celebrity rapper's dealer now, that’s pretty huge bro.”
Nam-gyu dissolved into laughter again. “Don’t you feel like the games have… changed you though?”
Talk about a change in mood, just when he tried to lighten it as well. “How?” Thanos muttered, eyes falling shut.
“I try to forget it–or y’know… be grateful that I got out, but people actually died, that’s not really something I can get over. And by voting ‘O’ did I not contribute to it?”
Thanos tilted his head so it wasn’t pressed against the sheets anymore. He stared at Nam-gyu’s face as he continued speaking. “Mhm.” He hummed in false agreement once Nam-gyu looked back at him expecting a reply, pretending he was listening.
He didn’t quite disagree, but everyone who was there signed up to be right. They were all miserable dumb-asses like him.
–
Su-bong startled awake, limbs sore from the uncomfortable sleeping position. His head buzzed uncomfortably. He studied the place around him, quickly remembering that he stayed over at the house of a junkie he had basically just met the day before. It felt almost like a one-night stand, only that it was with a dude instead.
He shook his head and sat up to move off the bed and checked he still had everything on him. He had been robbed before after nights like this so it didn’t hurt to be too safe. A hand suddenly darted out and wrapped around his wrist.
“You’re leaving?” Nam-gyu said, voice muffled by the sheets.
“Yeah.” Su-bong didn’t have much else to say, he was glad he got confirmation that the games were in fact real but it didn’t change the fact that he spent the night at a practical stranger's house for drugs.
“Can I give you my number?” The guy asked.
Thanos nodded and handed him his phone, he supposed it wouldn’t hurt, especially if he didn’t message or call unless he was planning to get back on his therapist anytime soon.
Nam-gyu gave his phone back after finishing typing it in. “It was cool seeing you. You don’t need any help back home?”
Su-bong shifted uncomfortably. “Nah, I got maps, I'll be right.” He moved to leave and didn’t turn back when he felt eyes watching him.
It wasn’t bad seeing the guy, especially since he got free drugs out of it and finally ended his miserable ‘clean’ streak, but he’s unused to people sticking around. Three years and no new girlfriend, barely not even a friend. He goes to the club, performs, takes pills, injections or weed when he gets handed it and leaves. Sometimes he fits in a quick fuck. Saying it aloud sounds bad, but it works until it doesn’t.
The entire bus ride home Thanos stared at the new contact on his phone under the label ‘Nam-su.’