Work Text:
(September 17, 2024)
Gi-hun stood outside the club, twisting the little card in his fingers; an action that had become almost a tick in the past two weeks, ever since he first acquired it. Since then, the card’s corners had already become rounded from many manipulations and two strong lines had appeared across it, from where it had accidentally folded in his back pocket. Still, the ink that bore the date of October 31st, his very birthday, had somehow remained vivid, unable to be destroyed.
The street wasn’t busy, as it was a Tuesday evening, but it wasn’t quiet either. There were a couple of friend groups that stumbled around, yelling profanities at one another; some more students that were club-crawling, popping out from one only to disappear into the one next door, clearly intoxicated and unable to walk in a straight line. The street was alive and young, full of joyful energy, a stark contrast to Gi-hun who felt like an anomaly.
It made him doubt his decision of coming here, he probably stood out like a sore thumb; an old man trying to blend in. Did they think he was pathetic? A creep? Who else would be here alone.
He had to remind himself of the reason he was doing this. They couldn’t go in blind, not when entering the enemy’s nest, and since none of them were avid club-goers, someone had to check the place out beforehand. Naturally, he felt he was obligated to be the one to do so, as the other’s had done enough and, perhaps, on some other level he needed to see the place himself, not simply rely on others’ words. If he hadn’t told anyone else about his plan, well, why should he?
Putting the tiny card in the inner pocket of his jacket, he straightened his back before crossing the street to approach the club entrance. A young woman was vividly explaining something to the bouncer who shook his head in denial and motioned her to leave. She opened her mouth in protest, but seemed to think better of it, and gave a performatively large sigh, before turning around and running straight into Gi-hun.
“Ah, there he is, Mr.!” The woman exclaimed, turning to the bouncer, a large smile plastered across her face. “We’re together, you can let me- us in now.”
The bouncer raised an unimpressed eyebrow, watching as the woman tried to sneak her arm around Gi-hun’s waist only from him to shimmy out of her way. “Together or not, your I.D. is clearly fake, and I cannot let underage girls inside.”
“Whatever.” The woman scoffed, before addressing Gi-hun accusingly. “And thanks for nothing, old man.”
Great, Gi-hun thought, this would turn out just great. He watched the girl make her way down the street to try her luck in the next place.
“Kids these days,” the bouncer shook his head in dismay. “Sorry, about that, sir. Welcome to Club HDH!”
He stepped aside, clearing the way to the front door that, even when closed, couldn’t contain the red lights coming from within, with little rays managing to escape, all the while framing the door in a red glow. It looked sinister.
Gi-hun nodded in a silent thanks before bracing himself to enter. With every step Gi-hun could hear the bass increase.
As the door closed behind him, he couldn’t help but feel trapped. The atmosphere was disorientating, depriving him of his basic senses – sight, hearing, vision. There was only one way to go now – forth down the stairs that led him into a lower level.
Down there he could see some people on the dance floor, though Gi-hun wasn’t sure he could call what they were doing “dancing”; instead, it was uncontrolled shaking and jumping. As if the bass that blasted from the speakers had seeped into their veins and through their circulatory system made its way into their brain, controlling them like puppets.
He felt something happen to himself as well. The diffused into him as well, but instead of taking over his mind, it seemed to latch onto his already rapid breathing and heartbeat; his ribcage had become the dancefloor for an anxiety, he didn’t know he held with him.
Though, he had told himself he would stay sober, he found himself in a desperate need for a drink. If the anxiety was here, then the feelings of guilt and self-hatred weren’t far away either, most probably taking a more evil form in this hole of a club.
He made his way towards the bar, trying to avoid bumping into any of the convulsing people, though it seemed they wanted to bump into him. Muttering endless apologies that never reached the ears of the recipients, he crossed had successfully crossed the floor. Luckily, there were only a few people, maybe five, at the bar, giving him a sacred respite.
With a sigh of relief, he sat down on one of the bar stools and waved at the bartender to take his order. “I’ll have a gin and tonic. Thanks.”
The bartender nodded and began making the mixture.
Gi-hun felt himself relax slightly. Not only was the bar not crowded, easing his oncoming feelings of claustrophobia, it gave him a chance to have a good look at the interior of the club. He was on the lowest level; above, there was a second level, where he could spot some doors and potential hallways. He would need to explore where each led, so they wouldn’t get ambushed. As of now, he only knew of the front entrance, but there had to be at least one other.
The bartender placed the drink in front of him and cleared his throat.
“Oh, right, sorry, just a second.” Gi-hun scrambled to find the wallet he had put in one of his pockets. Since when did he have so many pockets, anyways? “How much is it?”
“10’000.” The bartender answered, his voice taking a colder tone, but he couldn’t blame him. He didn’t want to imagine the types of people the man had to deal with on a regular basis.
He felt very on-the-spot though, which only increased the anxious beating in his chest. Quickly he started emptying his pockets one by one, barely giving thought to what was inside them. “Just a second, please. I’m so sorry, I swear it was just here somewhere.”
Just then a hand slid ten thousand wons across the counter.
“This one’s on me.” He heard the owner of the hand say, before watching the bartender take the money and disappear to the other side of the bar where a new client awaited him.
Gi-hun turned to look at his saviour. It was a man, similar age of him, yet somehow, he looked like he fit in much better. His clothes were slim-fitting, accentuating his broad shoulders and toned chest; the dark tones of his clothes matched the dark gaze of his eyes.
“Thank you so much, but you really didn’t have to.” Gi-hun felt embarrassed, both because he must have looked like a bum that wanted to scam others for drinks, and, though it was a more irrational reason, because he must have looked ridiculous in comparison to the man next to him.
Where the other man’s clothes fit him like they had been tailored specifically for his body, Gi-hun’s hung loosely over his body. He wore his usual pants and shirt, the only new addition he had thrown on to fit in more was a leather jacket he had found in an alleyway one day. It made him feel gimmicky.
“I don’t mind lending a helping hand.” He half expected the man to leave, but he didn’t. Instead, he took a seat next to him. His eyes were focused on something on the counter.
Gi-hun turned to look and cursed himself. In his panic to find the wallet, he had emptied all of the contents of his pockets; there in clear display on the counter amidst several crumpled checks and candy wrappers lay the little card, looking as threatening as ever in the club lighting. And the other man’s eyes were locked right on it.
“What an interesting card.” The man spoke, voice full of curiosity. “Can I ask – what is it?”
As if a child who hides his wrong-doings, Gi-hun snatched the card and tucked it back away in his inside pocket.
“Oh, it’s nothing.” His mind raced trying to think of a lie. “My daughter makes these playing cards, so I carry one around. It’s, uh, supposed to be good luck.”
Had he really just said that? Gi-hun’s stomach twisted. He had used his daughter who was an ocean away and who he hadn’t talked to in years in one of his lies.
“Playing cards, huh?” The man sounded amused. “How creative of your daughter. I would have guessed it was some business card.”
“That wouldn’t have been a bad guess.” Gi-hun reprimanded himself silently, taking a big gulp of his drink. He only had eaten a small pastry early in the morning, so the drink went almost directly to his head; he welcomed it.
“And is it lucky, the card?”
“Well, I seem to have lost my wallet, so I might be starting to doubt its abilities.” He replied, before forcing a weak smile and looking at the man. “Though, maybe I was lucky there was someone near kind enough to pay for my drink, saving me from a complete and utter embarrassment.”
“Lucky, indeed.” The man flashed him a smile that beneath the red slights seemed predatory. Then, he reached out his hand. “My name is Young-il.”
He took the man’s hand in his, shaking it. It was warm and firm, fitting perfectly in his. The alcohol in his system only enhanced the warmth overtook him upon the small touch; he was so incredibly lonely, a random man would incite such a reaction in him.
“Gi-hun.” He said, pulling his hand away, not trusting himself to prolong the contact, even if every fibre of his being screamed for him to make the touch linger.
“Gi-hun.” The man repeated, stretching the word out, as if playing with it. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t seem like someone who comes to these kinds of places often.”
He felt a small chuckle escape his lips. Was he that easy to read that even a stranger could call him out on his falsities? That didn’t bode well with his plan. “What gave me away?”
The man’s eyes roamed over him, as if analysing a failed test subject. Gi-hun reached for his glass that was already half empty.
“You don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself.” Young-il concluded. “Or maybe you haven’t let yourself enjoy things like this; maybe you’ve been afraid of it, of that part of yourself. I sense a lot of fear and anxiety in you.”
Gi-hun stared at him, eyes wide in disbelief of the words coming out of the man’s mouth. They had just met, but it felt like he had figured Gi-hun out already.
Young-il shot him a mischievous grin then, before shrugging. “Or maybe it’s your outfit. The leather jacket, although it looks good, screams “trying too much”.”
Gi-hun let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. It had just been a lucky guess. “Is it really that bad?”
“It’s charming.”
He couldn’t help the blush that spread across his cheeks, so to hide it he bent his head down, trying not to feel like a schoolgirl talking to her senior crush. He decided they needed to change the subject, quick, before his subconscious got any irrational ideas.
“I really don’t understand where my wallet has gone, though.”
“Maybe you dropped it on your way here?” Young-il suggested. “Perhaps you’ll find it on your way home. You have your lucky card with you after all.”
Gi-hun tried to smile at the suggestion. The man was only trying to make him feel better. “I really should find it.”
It held too many of his fake I.D.’s and cards; he knew it was foolish to keep everything in one place, but it was a quirk of his he couldn’t free himself of, no matter how many times his mother and then wife had reprimanded him about it.
“Oh, yes.” Young-il nodded, his gaze steadily fixed on Gi-hun. “You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself, anyhow.”
“You definitely made it more tolerable.” It was the truth, talking to the man had calmed down his heart rate and slowed his breathing; he felt he was in a protective bubble. “How can I repay you for the drink though?”
Something flashed across Young-il’s eyes, but it was too dark for Gi-hun to notice. “Next time you buy me one. You can find me quite often these days.”
“Alright.” Gi-hun nodded, anticipation already building in his chest. The unexpected promise of meeting the man another time was thrilling. It would definitely make his exploration of the club more tolerable. Then a thought occurred to him. “Wait, how do you know I’m going to return here?”
“A lucky guess.” There it was again the mischievous grin he had seen earlier. Gi-hun found he wanted to see more of it.
He got up from the stool. “It was nice to meet you, Young-il. And thank you, again.”
“Get home say, Gi-hun. I hope you find your wallet.”
With that, Gi-hun turned around and headed straight for the stairs. This time no one bumped into him, as if he still had the other man’s protective bubble around him. The bass still resonated in his chest, making his stomach vibrate, imitating the feeling of having butterflies.
Once at the top of the stairs, he felt an urge to look back to see if the man was still there. But when he did, he found their places completely empty. The man had disappeared.
He followed the sign that promised the path to exit and before long he was back on the street. Not much time had passed, an hour, maybe two. He would definitely need to return to check out those doors and find the extra exits, so they would be ready when the time came. If in those instances he also had a drink with his new acquaintance, he wasn’t going to complain. Perhaps he was allowed to find some joy in all of this insanity.
Before heading back home he circled back to the club entrance in idle hopes of finding his wallet lying there somewhere on the floor. The minute he had appeared on the street, the bouncer waved at him.
“Sir!” Gi-hun noticed there was something in his hands. “You dropped your wallet!”
If Gi-hun had thought it strange this sudden disappearance and reappearance of his wallet, it was quickly overshadowed by the happiness of having regained it and with thoughts of how Young-il might be the key to his luck, as he had wished him to find it.
***
(September 24, 2024)
He had meant to return sooner, but now that they had finally found a thread to follow in their mission to stop the games, his days were much fuller than they were just a couple of months ago. So, a week passed before he found himself at the entrance of Club HDH again.
He had spent an embarrassingly long time deciding what to wear, trying to find something that looked effortless, while not being too casual. After an hour of indecision, he had lost his already shortened temper and had grabbed the same leather jacket. The man had called it charming, so it would do just fine. He didn’t even know for certain Young-il would be there.
This time there were three people in line with him, all within their 20s and 30s. Gi-hun waited, thinking of his strategy for this visit, though by the time it was his time to enter the door, he had come up empty. It didn’t matter, he still had a month, so he wasn’t in any time pressure to find everything out at once.
Even though it was his second time here, the lighting and music felt just as overwhelming as the first time. It was less threatening, but just as sinister.
He appraised the size of the public. For some reason, this time the majority were dancing on the upper level. So much for exploring those doors, he thought. He wasn’t yet ready to put himself between that many bodies.
As disappointing as that was, it meant he had more opportunity to explore the lower level. He looked down at the people there, it was as they were the very same people he had left here a week ago, still deep within their trance.
Slowly starting to make his way downstairs, Gi-hun allowed his eyes to search for Young-il. The man had appeared in his thoughts more than he liked to admit this past week, and, though he didn’t like to admit it, he was another reason why he had wanted to return sooner.
As if on cue, in the very corner of the dance floor he spotted him. He looked breathtaking, in the chaos of the thrashing bodies and sweat, he was the very vision of control and peace. Young-il had spotted him, too, raising a hand in air in a form of greeting. Gi-hun mirrored the motion.
He had to force his steps to keep the same slow pace he had taken before, though every part of him wanted as soon as possible to be in the other’s presence again.
They met by the bar, and suddenly Gi-hun felt himself go mute. It didn’t help that the man was staring right into his eyes with an intensity that he hadn’t ever seen on anyone else, while a small smile decorated his lips. Gi-hun could make himself believe that the man had been expecting his arrival eagerly.
“I thought you might have changed your mind.” Young-il spoke.
“No, no.” Gi-hun said, maybe a tad too enthusiastically. “I’m sorry, I’ve just had a very busy week.”
The man nodded, placing a friendly hand on his shoulder. “I hear you. It’s as if the work never ends this time of year. Did you manage to find your wallet?”
“Yes!” He motioned for the man to take a seat at the bar. “So, please, anything you wish. It’s on me.”
Young-il took his seat and quirked an eyebrow, a move that both embodied playfulness and suggested something more. “Anything? What if I have expensive taste?”
“Then I would benefit to learn something from you. I swear most of this stuff tastes the same to me.” He turned to wave at the bartender, but the man was already there, waiting expectantly.
“The usual, thank you.” Young-il ordered, before turning towards Gi-hun. “And you?”
“Uh, the same.” He shrugged, self-consciously, as he felt the man’s curious eyes on him. Before he could say something stupid, he pulled out his wallet and prepared a fifty thousand won banknote, handing it to the bartender before he even had the chance to name the price. It was only when he was given back in change only five thousand, that he realized that his newfound friend hadn’t been kidding about his taste. “So, this is the quality stuff?"
He eyed the two glasses filled with brown liquor on ice, each with a floating slice of orange in them. If he wasn’t mistaken these were old fashioneds. It certainly fit the man’s exterior and what Gi-hun had grasped to be his personality.
“Well, it’s the best you can get from a club.” Young-il took the glass between his fingers, swirling it around in smooth motions. The motion was hypnotic. “Though, it’s only a faint reflection of the truly good “stuff”.”
Gi-hun took his own drink and let himself smell it, trying to understand the appeal. “What determines the quality then?”
Young-il cocked his head, before looking straight into Gi-hun’s eyes. “Complexity. All of the best things in life are complex, heterogenous, hard to define.”
Gi-hun had to fight the urge to squirm under the watchful gaze. There was an implication in the other’s words that he didn’t want to decipher yet; the man spoke to him as if in codes and challenges.
“I don’t think you can renounce simplicity. For me there are times when nothing is better than the cheapest Soju from the corner store. Same with other things, don’t you think that between everything complex there lies a single simple truth?” He felt proud of the way he had worded the jumble of thoughts that were flying around his head.
Young-il hummed, looking at his drink, before giving Gi-hun a sideways smile that made him feel unnecessarily warm. “That is a complex thought in itself. Tell me, do you consider yourself to be a simple man?”
Gi-hun wanted to answer affirmatively, but he found that not to be quite true. “I used to be. Not anymore. But when I was, I was at my happiest.”
“That I can agree with. Happiness is found in simplicity, but there can be finer things in life.”
They were both quiet for a second. Gi-hun took the opportunity to taste the concoction. As it turned out, it was quite pleasant – a mix of sweetness and bitterness, that culminated in warmth that spread all the way from his throat to his stomach.
“This is your usual then.” Gi-hun spoke up first, drawing the other man out from whatever thoughts he had fallen into. “That means you come here often?”
He cringed at the line that had escaped his lips, though he didn’t know how else to phrase what he wanted to know. However, the toothy grin that appeared on Young-il’s lips, appeased any self-doubts.
“Only recently. If you can believe what I’m about to say – I come here for work.”
“Oh.” Gi-hun felt his face flush and he doubted he could blame in on the liquor. A wide range of images implanted themselves in his head about what type of work Young-il could be doing at a club. “What do you do for work?”
“It’s nothing that should make you blush.” Young-il said and winked at Gi-hun, who choked on his drink that he had just taken a large gulp of. “But I find it tedious talking about work, it’s been so boring.”
Gi-hun nodded, still trying to recover.
“Of course, you can tell me about your work. I am a very good listener.” Young-il continued. “If you need advice on something, I’ll do my best.”
“You’re right. No talk about work.” Gi-hun agreed, because, that would entail him having to come up with some elaborate lie about his job, colleagues, bosses and whatnot. He couldn’t very well tell him about the secret organization that killed people that he was trying to stop.
Gi-hun was trying to come up with a new topic of conversation, but found his mind was empty. He had lost the art of conversation. Everything in his life had been so focused on his plan to stop the games that he had left a part of him abandoned, stripped of any meaningful socialization that went beyond talking strategy. Now, when he needed it, it had abandoned him.
He looked at the man next to him, hoping he would take mercy on him and come up with a topic, rather than letting the conversation die.
“You know, people come here to free their minds.” Young-il started. “It seems you’re having trouble doing so.”
It was an invitation for him to share his worries. If only he could, Gi-hun thought to himself, though maybe he could try and convey the feelings without assigning any specific events. It was an opportunity he couldn’t let himself give up.
“You’re right.” He turned slightly, so the upper part of his body was mostly facing Young-il, who mirrored the motion himself. “I don’t know how people do it, how they free their minds. The past three years have been rough. I… I was offered something by the wrong people, something that could solve the stupid problems I was facing then, and I was naïve enough to accept the offer.”
Young-il looked concerned, his brow furrowed in an almost comical fashion. “Did they scam you?”
“No.” Gi-hun shook is head. “But there were some terms and conditions I hadn’t been made aware of before accepting the deal. For me to receive what I needed, others would have to lose.”
He closed his eyes, trying to stop the flow of memories that had surfaced from the part of his consciousness where he usually kept them dormant. He could hear the silent thuds as the money slowly filled the piggy bank.
“They never informed you of this?” Young-il’s voice barely came through, as if travelling through fog.
Gi-hun wanted to lie; to say that, no, they had trapped him, but that wasn’t the truth. They had offered a chance to leave, which a handful of people had taken. But he himself had been desperate enough to return. “After completing the terms of the first agreement, they did. But I… Their promise was like dangling a low hanging fruit in front of a starving person, but then taking it higher and higher, as he gets up to take it. And people, including me, fell for it.”
“You can’t blame yourself, though. People go to great lengths to get what they need.”
“Yes, but-” Gi-hun had to make the man understand. “They couldn’t grasp how much they would be losing if they failed. And they did lose; all of them lost but me.”
“I think they knew exactly what they would be losing, but when weighed against what they could gain… You cannot take a person and strip them from the context they live in.” Young-il was leaning more forward with every word he spoke. “You won because in some way you deserved it. The most awful thing you can do is waste that chance that was offered to you, even if the people were bad.”
Gi-hun was taken aback by the intensity of the man, it was as if he tried to speak right to his soul, simultaneously attempting to corrupt it and save it. For maybe there was despair in constantly trying to be good.
He felt Young-il’s hand come to rest on top of his. It could have been nothing more than a comforting gesture of a kind friend, but he felt a knowing feeling within that this was something more. Slowly, he relaxed into the touch. It felt too good to fight even if he knew this would be a dangerous game to play. In a little more than a month he would be on what some would describe as suicide mission; this wasn’t the time to regain the ability to catch feelings. But maybe he wouldn’t, he thought, maybe this would just be him finding comfort from the loneliness that haunted him.
Gi-hun found himself lost in the other man’s eyes; they were an intriguing thing to explore, filled with unknown depths and secrets that invited him closer. The world went on around them; but that was the old world which brought nothing but suffering. Between the two of them, they had founded a new world with a new order of things and Gi-hun was happy to live in it forever.
Their moment was disrupted when a very drunk man managed to squeeze himself between them, panting heavily as he rested his arms on the bar, sweat dripping from every part of his body. He yelled something at the bartender, but Gi-hun didn’t care. He found his eyes searching for Young-il’s.
The man was staring at the intruder, jaw clenched, something dangerous in his eyes. It made Gi-hun feel as if he was seeing a new part of him, one that had previously been carefully tucked away. This version of Young-il was cold and calculating, ready to discard of anyone that stood in his way metaphorically and literally.
Gi-hun watched as this new Young-il leaned closer to the man between them and whispered something to him. As if on cue the man startled and quickly disappeared back from where he had come from, forgetting the drink he had ordered just seconds ago. Gi-hun stared after him. What had the man said to him?
When his gaze returned to Young-il, all of the coldness was gone, as if it had been a mirage. It was almost thrilling seeing these two sides to him, especially knowing that the warm and comforting part was reserved for Gi-hun.
“It’s a shame he interrupted us.” Young-il spoke, his voice taking a suggestive tone. “You had just started to enjoy yourself.”
Gi-hun looked at him, eyes wide. He was sure if he would look into a mirror, he would only barely be able to see himself, having blended in with the red lights. He couldn’t deny the man’s accusation, so he settled on the simple truth. “I was.”
The man smirked, but before he could respond, his eyes locked onto something above Gi-hun’s head. The smile disappeared from his lips. “I have some business to attend, so I must leave you now.”
Gi-hun resisted the urge to turn his head and take a peek at what had alerted the man of said “business”. That would be too desperate though, he scolded himself.
“Thank you for the drink, Gi-hun.” Young-il said, getting up. Before Gi-hun knew it, he felt the man crowding in on his back, hands placed on his shoulders. Gi-hun could feel the man’s breath on his neck. “Would it be presumptuous to say that the next one’s one me again?”
Gi-hun shivered. The proximity did terrible things to him. Not trusting his own voice, he nodded, if a bit too eagerly. He could feel the man’s lips curve into a smile, as they ghosted the skin just behind his ear.
“Come and find me then.” Young-il whispered.
Then, in a second, he was gone. Gi-hun looked at the drink that stood abandoned on his counter; the glass was still quite full. This time he couldn’t blame any of his feelings or bodily responses to the alcohol.
He needed a few minutes to regain some level of composure before getting up and leaving the bar himself. This time before heading upstairs, he made his way around the perimeter of the dance floor, creeping into the little nooks, in search for some hidden passageways. But apart from two bathrooms, there was nothing.
It seemed that everything worthwhile was on the upper level, hidden behind the army of bodies. He conceited his investigation for the night.
***
(September 30, 2024)
It was Monday. The previous week had dragged on, time passing as slowly as ever. It had been the previous Thursday when he had felt the pull to return to the club appear, but he had to strain himself. There was no use going there on the other half of the week, as there would only be more people there that would interfere with his investigation. Plus, he didn’t want Young-il to think he was a desperate loser with nothing better to do. He still had some self-respect.
But on Monday night, when he found himself sitting by his monitors, staring out into the empty street by his motel, he couldn’t take it any longer. Besides, Monday should be the day the least amount of people attended clubs, right? At least it had been that way when he was younger. It might give him better access to the upper level of the club.
So, he had taken the leather jacket and pushed himself out the door before he had a chance to overthink.
He found himself smiling on the way there, singing along to some tune he had heard on the radio earlier in the day. It was ridiculous what an effect the place, the man had on him, when he barely even knew anything more than his name. That somehow made the whole ordeal even more exciting; it was a feeling reminiscent of the one he had got whilst gambling. The balance between gaining something and the danger of losing. A fine line that was thrilling to walk.
As he approached, the bouncer lifted his hand in a greeting. Gi-hun felt slightly bashful; the concept of becoming a club regular at his age was not something he was fond of. But he quickly shooed the thoughts away. He had to be here.
Walking through the door, he welcomed the feeling of the rhythm entering his body. He found that if he didn’t resist it, it would be much gentler, settling as a second pulse within his chest.
This time instead of immediately descending down, he remained on the upper level. He had been right, there weren’t nearly as many people as the previous times. Though, still, a fair share of bodies stood before him and the damned doors that he needed to investigate.
Bracing himself for impact, he started making his way through the mass. It was a web of flying hands and throbbing heads; couples grinding on each other, people spilling their drinks, creating the overwhelming odour of sweat, alcohol and sex. It was so dizzying, he felt himself lose his track, instead being pushed around aimlessly around. Vaguely he felt a woman approach him and throw her arms around his neck, but before he could process this, he was being pulled away.
A warm, possessive hand had gripped his waist, and he was being dragged out of the crowd. His eyes tried to focus on the person, but everything around him was a blur of colours and faces that swirled together. It was only when he was led around the corner into a kind of alcove, that he felt his senses coming back.
In front of him stood Young-il, dressed in a white shirt that had started to stick to his skin due to the sweat. He looked more dishevelled than usual - mouth was slightly parted, a strand of hair sticking to his forehead that had also broken a sweat. Gi-hun licked his lips. The man looked appetizing.
“I thought I was supposed to find you.” He said, still feeling light-headed.
Young-il glowered at him, eyes dark. “Didn’t seem like you were looking.”
Gi-hun eyed the man, was he jealous? The woman had barely even touched him before he was pulled away. Gi-hun’s eyes dropped to Young-il’s mouth. It was still slightly parted, meaning, it would be a great opportunity to pull it into a kiss.
He took a daring step forward, bringing the two men closer. He could see the moment Young-il’s eyes dropped to his own lips; the moment seemed to drag on forever, it was torturous.
“I’m sorry.” Gi-hun said, his voice low.
That word seemed to be the final push that Young-il had needed, as he practically jumped at Gi-hun, pulling him into a kiss. His left hand came to rest on Gi-hun’s neck, adjusting it so he would have a better access into his mouth, while the other dropped to the small of his back, pulling him closer and closer still.
Gi-hun moaned into the kiss, shamelessly. It was hot and wet, and the other man tasted and felt so good. He let his own hands come to hold Young-il’s hips, moving them just so that the friction would be right. The man gasped and Gi-hun wished he could ingrain the moment in his memory.
He was discovering another version of the man, one that let go of the control and conceded to his nature, letting instincts and passion take over. Gi-hun loved every second of it.
When he pulled back for air, he met Young-il’s hungry eyes. He looked just as starved for this as Gi-hun felt.
“Follow me.” The man panted, and at that moment Gi-hun would have done anything the man said. He was a goner.
He followed in a daze as the man led him back out from the place of their small respite and back into the crowd. Though, this time the other people didn’t exist to him, they were mere distractions that he paid no mind to. Absent-mindedly he noted that they were approaching one of the black doors that had interested him so. Talk about catching two birds with one stone, Gi-hun thought happily.
He watched as Young-il took some chip out of the pocket of his pants to unlock the door. With a small sound, the door clicked open and Gi-hun ventured inside. The walls were lined in black wallpaper, a dim ceiling light was the only source of light. There were only a couple pieces of furniture – a drink tray, filled with different kinds of fancy liquor, a small coffee table and a large couch at the very end of the room. It whispered to him of dark secrets and nights filled with passion.
“What is this place?” He inquired, turning back to look at the man who had just closed the door.
To his surprise in this lighting he could see the man blush slightly. “It’s for the V.I.P. guests.”
“Oh.” Gi-hun caressed the couch, it was lined with leather.
“I don’t come here often.” Young-il offered, as if trying to explain himself to Gi-hun. “I don’t partake in their ways, not quite my style. It’s actually the first time I’ve brought anyone here.”
Gi-hun looked at the man. It was endearing how much he was trying to make Gi-hun feel special, not just another one of his conquests.
“Why did you bring me here then?” He let himself sit down on the couch, spreading his legs and smiling to himself as he felt Young-il’s eyes follow his every motion.
The man stepped closer, so he was standing almost between Gi-hun’s open legs. He looked down at the man and once again Gi-hun was overwhelmed with the intense gaze that he found himself under.
“Don’t act naïve now, Gi-hun.” Young-il lightly took Gi-hun’s chin between his fingers, lifting it up slightly. “The effect you have on me is maddening.”
He leant down then, capturing Gi-hun’s lips with his own, moving them against each other with a deliberate slowness. His other hand lightly pushed Gi-hun’s shoulders back, making him recline into the couch, breaking their kiss. He gave Gi-hun one of his devilish grins, as he lowered himself to his knees.
There was no hiding the obvious bulge in Gi-hun’s pants. Young-il licked his lips, before placing a gentle hand on top of it. Gi-hun cursed himself as his hips, having a mind of their own, buckled forward into the touch. Appreciation glistened in the other man’s eyes.
“Eager.” Young-il appraised, his voice having become low and raspy.
Gi-hun swallowed and watched as the other man unzipped his pants, pulling the fabric away and letting his cock spring free. He couldn’t believe this was real life, not just another one of his fantasies, that he had been having more and more these past weeks. He was actually there with a beautiful man between his legs; a man who seemed to answer all of his needs of being heard, understood, listened to.
Young-il’s eyes roamed appraisingly over Gi-hun’s body.
He took one of Gi-hun’s hands and placed it on the back of his head, fingers tangling in the dark locks of hair. The man put his own hands on Gi-hun’s thighs, digging his nails into them, making Gi-hun hiss in pain. But as soon as the sound had left the man’s mouth, the pain was replaced by feeling of absolute pleasure, as the man had taken him into his mouth.
Young-il was indecent enough to look up at Gi-hun, locking eyes, as his mouth worked, tongue swirling in ways that made Gi-hun forget his own name. Everything that existed was the man’s eyes and the ecstasy that was flowing in his veins. Soon, he found that his hand was conducting the rhythm, and he would have stopped himself, feeling guilty, if not for how the other man seemed to enjoy this guidance.
He wouldn’t last long, he knew that. It had been too long since he had last experienced anything even remotely close to what was happening. When Young-il moaned around him, he was done for. He tried to alert the man, but Young-il didn’t pull away, instead taking him deeper in his mouth, as Gi-hun finished.
The man pulled away, licking his lips, but when their eyes met, something strange flashed across them. Gi-hun exhaled, letting his eyes fall shut for a minute, trying to comprehend what had just happened. He needed to collect himself, at least regain the strength in his legs before returning the favour.
But when he opened his eyes again, he found the room empty.
Suddenly, he felt very, very dirty. As quickly as he could manage, he fixed his pants, and got up to leave the room. Outside, the music seemed louder than before; it was hammering at him. Young-il was nowhere to be seen.
He thought of the look that he had seen in the man’s eyes. Had it been regret? Disgust? Why had he fled? Perhaps he had thought that was what Gi-hun was after.
Gi-hun needed to get out of there, he felt he was going to be sick. The air was sickeningly sweet, suffocating him. He pushed his way through to the exit. As soon as the door closed behind him, he retched, emptying the contents of his stomach. He felt feverish, as cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He felt pathetic.
On the bright side, he thought weakly, at least now he knew what was behind one of the black doors.
***
(First weeks of October, 2024)
The positive mood he had been in for the past three weeks had disappeared. What was worse – the few people he met on a semi-regular occasion, seemed to notice and couldn’t resist making remarks about it. Woo-seok even compared him to a sulking schoolgirl. He knew how strange his behaviour must have seemed, but he couldn’t help himself. There had been no resolution, he had just been abandoned there.
So, he found himself in the club on Thursday, three days since the incident. After waiting in a queue and giving a greeting to the bouncer that he felt he was on familiar terms with already, he entered the club with a mission. He needed to find Young-il, to explain himself, to get an apology, to understand.
He had a strategy. At first, he would remain on the upper level, attempting to see if he could spot him on the lower level. If he would fail to do so, he was ready to dive through the crowd on the upper level in search of him there.
But two hours later, Gi-hun’s both tactics had failed. He resorted to ordering a drink at the bar, but only managed to sulk there for an hour, before getting annoyed and storming off home. Who did the man think he was, playing with him like this? Gi-hun pondered the possibilities, he had narrowed them down to two. One, the man could be a husband that caved to his darkest wishes and was now panicking somewhere, trying to make it up to his wife and hiding his true desire. Two, he thought Gi-hun only wanted him for sex. There was another option, something to do with how he had looked after Gi-hun, but he couldn’t formulate it well.
Either way, it would be much easier if Young-il would have some balls and talk to him. But if he needed a little encouragement, well, Gi-hun had time.
That was the reasoning each time he returned, even on the busiest of nights – Saturday, Monday, Tuesday. None of the times he succeeded to find the man. Though, there was a possibility that the man had stopped coming to the club, Gi-hun recalled him talking about work bringing him there. So, he had to be there; it just seemed the man didn’t want to be found.
It was on Thursday, October 10th, that Gi-hun thought of a new plan. Young-il was a regular at the club, meaning the employees there knew him. Perhaps they could tell him where the man was, especially if he pretended to be someone important.
So, there he was standing on the top of the staircase in a brand-new suit he had bought for the occasion, hair slicked back, hoping he looked like the kind of people who had business with Young-il. At least he had ditched the tie, so he wouldn’t look as gimmicky. He deliberated on who to approach first; it couldn’t be the bartended, for there was a chance he would recognize him from their first interactions. He looked around. There were two security guards on the lower level and three on the upper.
Gi-hun approached the one nearest to him.
“Excuse me, I have a meeting here.” He cringed at how fake it sounded. He didn’t even know Young-il’s last name. This was destined to fail. “I was told someone would meet me here.”
The man looked him up and down with a contemplative look. “I wasn’t aware there were any more meetings today.”
“It was arranged last minute. You see some things need immediate attention.” He tried his most authoritative tone. “I must speak to him at once.”
The man pursed his lips. “Wait at the bar. I will inform him.”
Gi-hun nodded and turned around, heart beating in his throat. As he descended the stairs, he hoped this would have been enough.
Positive thinking in mind, he ordered two old-fashioneds and waited. The time seemed to stretch incredibly long. He sipped his liquor, ignoring the way his hand was trembling from the nerves. He really needed this to work.
A figure appeared in his peripheral vision, and he knew without looking, it was Young-il. It seemed he could now identify the man based on his presence alone; there was no need for such trivialities as sight.
“Do you do this often, Gi-hun?” Young-il spoke, his voice indeterminable. Not quite cold, but not tender either. “Use deceit to get what you want?”
Gi-hun buried the feeling of shame that the words sparked in him, instead voicing his annoyance at last. “Only when people abandon me without explaining anything first.”
He turned to face the other man, who was standing still besides him, leaning against the bar. There it was again that look that he had seen in that room. But this time instead of fleeing, he had come out to meet Gi-hun; that had to mean something.
“I just want to talk.” Gi-hun heard himself say. “I got you your drink to make it more tolerable.”
Young-il looked at the drink on the counter before meeting Gi-hun’s eyes. They were much more clouded than he remembered, though his gaze burnt as bright through Gi-hun as bright as ever. “What did you want to talk about?”
Gi-hun watched as slowly the man took the drink in his hands, so carefully as if it might be poisoned.
“About last time.” Gi-hun didn’t let his eyes off of the man. He needed to see everything. “Why did you leave so abruptly?”
“Do you think it was a good idea – what happened last time?” Young-il’s jaw was clenched, though his cheeks had flushed red. There was some sort of fight going on within him.
“I do. But I think it would have been even better if I had been able to return the favour.” Gi-hun had to fight the grin that threatened to break out, because he saw the way Young-il bit his lip, the memories flooding back. “But I also don’t want you to think that’s all I want. Perhaps more than that, I just want to talk to you. I find it quite enjoyable.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Young-il sighed, taking a sip from his glass. This easy denial angered Gi-hun.
“What do you have a wife at home or something?” His voice had grown rather loud. “Or are you so far in the closet that you can’t accept you like me? I feel I must remind you it was you who started coming on to me; it was you who kissed me.”
Young-il gaped at him. For a moment Gi-hun thought he had scared him away, but instead, the man finally sat down next to him.
“No, I don’t have a wife.” Young-il started. “She died several years ago.”
Gi-hun had fucked up big time. He wanted to rip out hid tongue so it would never be able to mutter any nonsense again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- I didn’t know-”
But Young-il raised his hand, motioning him to stop. “How could you have known? But that’s exactly my point. You don’t know me, why do you think you want anything with me?”
“I’m taking my chance. You make me feel good, I enjoy our conversations. I find myself wanting to spend more time with you, getting to know you.” Gi-hun answered. These were simple self-evident truths. “So, if you don’t want anything more, I would still want to be your friend. We can forget the last time happened.”
Young-il’s eyes met his again. “I want so much more, Gi-hun.”
“Good. You can have it.” Gi-hun took the man’s hand in his, squeezing it. It was an insane thing to feel for someone who he had met three weeks ago, but some part of him had been ready to give every part of himself away, the very first time their eyes met.
Young-il looked down at their conjoined hands. “Why don’t we see where we stand in a month’s time.”
With a sharp twist Gi-hun was sucked out of their own perfect world and thrust ruthlessly back into the reality he lived outside of these walls. In a month’s time he could be dead, for in 21 days he would be trying to achieve something that seemed impossible. But what if he succeeded? What if he could have everything he wanted, he would finally be able to live in a world where the games no longer existed, with Young-il at his side. He would do anything for that world.
Gi-hun nodded. “Yes. Let’s take things slow.”
Young-il smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
“So, I suppose we should get to know each other better then.” Gi-hun tried in an entirely too positive of a voice. “What kind of music do you like then?”
It seemed to work, as Young-il let out a small chuckle before thinking about his answer. As Gi-hun came to find out, he liked artists like Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, some stuff from the eighties. They bonded over the songs from their childhood.
He learnt that Young-il loved to cook, but didn’t have much time for it; he rarely watched any TV and was fully behind on all of the current shows and movies. Slowly, Gi-hun was starting to gather tiny puzzle pieces that he hoped would all come together one day.
***
(October 20, 2024)
Gi-hun did find it slightly weird that they never met outside of the club, but he couldn’t complain. It was much easier than trying to find a time during the day that worked for them both. So, really, it worked out perfect that the club was there.
Since their big talk on the tenth, he had visited almost every other day. They always sat at the very same spot by the bar and spent hours talking. Every time he would return home later and later in the night. Young-il was even more interesting than he had thought, though he rarely went into much detail about himself and much rather would sit and listen to Gi-hun’s ramblings.
He wanted to find out more about the man, about all of his sides, not just the one that was reserved for Gi-hun. For there were more sides, Gi-hun was certain. Those parts of Young-il lie just below the surface and emanated a feeling of danger. But Gi-hun had been hurt before, so it only enticed him more.
Now, as he sat by the bar, waiting for the other to arrive, it struck him how little time he had left. In only a week he would return here under completely different pretences. Then, this place would be crawling with the people he had sworn to destroy, tainting every corner of the club. He had to make sure Young-il wasn’t there that night. If something went wrong, he couldn’t risk hurting the man.
“Are you here every night?” He asked in an urgent tone, when he saw Young-il approach.
The man smirked, amused at the question. “Do you want to meet up every night then?”
“No, I mean are there any days you’re not here? Say, celebrations, like Halloween?”
Young-il’s eyes widened for a split second. The question was surprising, seemingly out of nowhere for someone who didn’t know what he knew, Gi-hun thought. “I tend to take some days off. Why?”
“I just have a feeling…” Gi-hun tried to come up with a way to explain that the man needed to get away on the 31st while not sounding like he had hit his head and lost his mind on the way here. “I don’t know, there are all kinds of crazy weirdos out on the 31st. Maybe it’s better if we both stay at home that night.”
Young-il leaned in to give him a light kiss; it was something that become habitual between the two of them. “What if I have a really hot costume, I want you to see?”
Gi-hun smiled. “You’ll just have to show me afterwards in private.”
“Oh, it’s a deal.” The man purred, mischief glistening in his eyes. “Will you be staying home, too then?”
“Most likely I’ll be heading out of town.” Gi-hun shrugged noncommittally. “Have to pay a visit to a- a friend.”
“A friend.” Young-il smirked. “Should I be jealous of this friend?”
Gi-hun laughed. “He’s really not a friend. Just a person from my past.”
“Ah,” Young-il hummed, cocking his head. “But those are the most dangerous ones. No matter how much you’ve changed, they always can bring back the version of who you were before. You’re utterly powerless in front of them.”
Gi-hun thought about it. Wasn’t that what he was trying to prove to the game masters - that the games couldn’t change him and extinguish the hope in humanity he had? He should be glad to hear the man’s words then, but instead he felt an uneasy feeling settle in his stomach and remain there.
“Do you have anyone from your past like that then?” Gi-hun slightly altered the topic of conversation, turning it around on Young-il.
Young-il stared at him for a long time, his hand absently coming to rest on his own shoulder, before answering. “I do.”
Of course, the man would have someone like that, after all he had lived just as long as Gi-hun, but it unsettled Gi-hun that another person would have such an effect on Young-il as to make him powerless.
“What do you do when you meet them?”
Young-il sighed. “I do everything I thought I wouldn’t. And even if I try to leave them, I somehow keep returning to them or they find me.”
“It sounds exhausting.” Gi-hun spoke, trying to ignore the ping of jealousy that had hit him.
The other man looked down at his feet. Suddenly, Gi-hun saw the man in yet another light; eerily similar to his own reflection. Young-il’s shoulders were slumped, worn down from responsibility they held; his eyes puffy from too little sleep with dark circles around them. His façade had slipped away for a while, revealing a part of the man behind it. Someone similar to Gi-hun. But, as quickly as it had shown itself, it was pushed away.
“When are you going on your trip out of town?”
Gi-hun pondered the question. It held an air of finality he wasn’t ready to face. He had to decide the date after which there was a possibility he wouldn’t ever return. The days leading up to the ambush could be hectic, so he couldn’t promise to visit then. He had to pick an earlier date, which meant even smaller amount of time left for them.
“I leave on the 27th.” It was a Sunday, as fitting of a day as any. They had a week left.
Young-il nodded. He didn’t ask about Gi-hun’s return date.
***
(October 27, 2024)
Gi-hun greeted the bouncer, shaking his hand. Though he still hadn’t learnt his name, over the time they had exchanged some bits of small-talk, and he had grown fond of him.
He entered the door he knew so well now, ridding himself of the outside world for the last time. The lighting seemed slightly different this time, it was darker. It looked like the place was bleeding out. He had to let it go.
Gi-hun immediately saw Young-il by the bar. He was standing, hands behind his back, exuding air of authority. The man turned his head towards him and nodded, but didn’t smile.
Gi-hun wanted to press his eyes shut, he didn’t want to have it be so serious. He needed back the simplicity that had been promised to him those first times he had come here. But neither one of them was simple, nor were their lives. Young-il’s words from their second meeting came back to him.
He approached Young-il, mumbling a light greeting but failing to find further words to say. Young-il didn’t seem to mind, he was staring at him, eyes cloudy again.
“Do you want to go out for some fresh air?” Young-il spoke.
Gi-hun furrowed his brow. It didn’t make any sense. “But I just got here.”
Young-il didn’t say anything, so Gi-hun decided to just go with it. This would be the first time they would be out of the club together, and he didn’t know if he was ready for that. Not because he was ashamed to be seen with the other man, no, quite the opposite, but everything that he cared for in his life seemed to crumble under the pressure of the real world. Though, maybe it had been inevitable from the start.
“Alright, let’s go.” He motioned for Young-il to lead.
They ended up in the same alleyway where Gi-hun had thrown up that night, and he winced with the memory. This wasn’t where he wanted to be, though, it seemed it wasn’t the final destination, as Young-il kept walking. They exited the alleyway turning left on the main street. Young-il kept walking and Gi-hun did his best to keep up.
After some twenty minutes Gi-hun couldn’t help himself. “Where are we going?”
“It’s no fun when you know the destination.”
Gi-hun didn’t mind. He didn’t want to know where or how they would end up, he was more than happy to simply enjoy the road there while he could.
The night was beautiful, if a little cold. The sky was clear, you could see the constellations that were muted by the city lights. He found himself looking up, trying to remember their names and shapes.
“Are you sure you need to go on that trip?” Young-il’s voice was sharp in the quiet night air.
Gi-hun looked into his eyes. They were as clear as the sky and just as dark. “I do. I cannot keep escaping my past.”
Young-il nodded, averting his gaze. He didn’t look satisfied with Gi-hun’s response, almost worried.
“But you know, it’s just for a few days at maximum. A week at most. I will be back before you know it.” He was half trying to convince himself. He leaned in closer to the man.
“Promise me you’ll be safe.” Young-il’s voice was quiet.
Gi-hun nodded, but it didn’t satisfy the man, who stepped closer until they were only inches apart.
“Promise me.”
Gi-hun swallowed, trying to find his voice. “I promise I’ll be safe, Y-”
The man kissed him then like the time he had kissed him the first time. It wasn’t their gentle, innocent kisses they had shared between the two instances. No, this kiss was a way to speak the unspeakable to each other. It was full of anger and hurt, worry and hate, lust and adoration. It was an obsessive kiss that swallowed them both.
Young-il pulled back and rested his forehead against Gi-hun’s. “I meant what I said. I want so much more with you, Gi-hun.”
“You can have it, Young-il.” Gi-hun whispered but as he stared in the others’ eyes, he saw that something wasn’t right, some part of the puzzle that he had been putting together lately didn’t fit.
“Not tonight, not like this.” Young-il echoed his thoughts.
It was frustrating having something so close yet not being able to have it. He definitely couldn’t allow himself to die now, not when he knew what was expecting him on the other side.
He took the other man’s face between his hands, trying to ingrain every little detail of it in his memory, so he could recall it whenever he needed to. It was what he would take into his suicide mission, a reminder of the world he was fighting for. A reminder for the different parts of humanity that resided in people – the warmth, the cold, the comfort and the danger – he had found them all in the man before him.
Young-il closed his eyes. There were no more words to say, to disrupt this silence would be blasphemous. Undisturbed, it would remain a sanctuary for both of them to return to, for in this moment they were at last fully themselves.
They stood like that in each other’s arms as people passed them by, casting curious glances at the two men. When they pulled apart, they shared one last look, before parting in different directions.
As Gi-hun made his way home, he found himself praying to any deity willing to listen that they would meet again.