Chapter Text
Seong Gi-hun’s life is quiet now that he’s living alone. The blinds cast an illuminated shadow into the dark where he lays, curled up in bed with his phone in hand. The light from the screen is painful to look at.
He moves slowly, resting his chin on his bare knees. It’s getting colder in Seoul. The chill creeps through his cotton t-shirt, sending shivers down his spine. Still, Gi-hun can’t find it in himself to get out of bed.
The throbbing pain in his head doesn’t help.
His migraine began two hours ago when he was pulled abruptly from a midday nap. His daughter called.
Missed call Ga-yeong 3:02pm
The first time she called, he let the answering machine pick up. He was frozen and delirious.
Missed Call Ga-yeong 32 min. Ago
On the second phone call, his mouth was so dry it hurt. He stared bleary eyed and unblinking until the ringing stopped. That’s when she left a voicemail.
‘Hi, dad. Happy birthday. I miss you.’
That’s right, today is October 31st. His birthday. He wonders if she’ll celebrate Halloween overseas, or if she’s too old for that.
I should fucking know that. His mind wanders to all he’s missing out on.
Hearing her voice again was everything to him and more. His fingers hover over the screen, almost willing to call back.
That ‘almost’ is his biggest problem.
Instead, he lies in bed day after day allowing misery to eat away at his core. Deep down, Gi-hun is aware of just how awful a father he really is. It weighs heavy on his soul, forever wondering if absence is the right choice.
He uses the games to justify his desertion, forever repeating ‘She’s in danger if I have any contact with her’ . It’s a mantra designed to sooth his guilt, but it could have some truth to it.
Six months have passed since he wore that green tracksuit and since then, paranoia has completely taken over. Player 456 won the cash prize but at what cost? In Gi-hun’s mind, the games are played on a constant loop. The ever present sensation of being watched never leaves and neither does the memory of blood on his hands.
‘Hi, dad. Happy birthday. I miss you.’ He plays it again,
‘Hi, dad. Happy birthday. I miss you.’ And again,
The voicemail has been on a near constant loop for 30 minutes. Each listen becomes more suffocating than the last.
He lets out a guttural sob, gripping the sheets. The phone is pressed tightly against his ear.
“Hi, Ga-yeong, Your dad loves you so much,” He chokes out to nobody, unable to keep composure.
After a while, Gi-hun finally decides to turn his phone over and forget about it. Wiping his face, he shifts his gaze to the bedside table. Eyes wander to the nightstand drawer and the little yellow bank card that lives inside it. It’s nothing more than Blood Money calling out to be used. The thought is sickening.
He crawls forward, pulling the drawer open and peeking inside. There it sits beside a pack of cigarettes. Untouched. His long fingers trace over the raised lettering.
Gi-hun craves a clean slate more than anything. His thirst for atonement has him imagining a world where he stops those games once and for all, but he can’t even get the fuck up out of bed to eat something.
His grip on the card hardens before he throws it across the bedroom into the wall. The silent plop into a pile of laundry feels anticlimactic.
In the end, winning didn’t fix much. He may have paid his dues but he was also supposed to save his mother’s life and fix his own to be a better father for Ga-yeong. Instead, his mother passed while he was gone and his kid is off in America with her mother and step father.
He dug a hole with his awful decisions and the bodies keep piling up en masse. Being at fault for tearing his family apart, the death of his mother, and countless others weighs heavy on Gi-hun’s soul. It’s all he ever thinks about.
He cannot shake the reality in which he is a coward.
His half lidded eyes ache, begging for sleep. Still, he denies himself the pleasure. The act of standing is enough to send another wave of throbbing pain through the side of his skull. Gi-hun winces at the sudden feeling but continues, creeping toward the bathroom to relieve himself.
The cold tile greets him first, and then the mirror. He takes a look but It's a difficult sight to behold. The face in the reflection isn’t a man he recognizes, but that of a man who has to face what he’s done. Always guilty, always looking over his own shoulder. Unkempt in ways never seen before. His shoulders sag as he exhales. Slowly. Deliberately. He can feel his heart racing.
It feels warmer than before. The quiet is loud and his palms are sweaty. There used to be family but it’s been replaced with a neverending ringing in his ears.
It’s the second day in a row that the shower remains untouched. His toothbrush, hairbrush, fuck, even the fridge havent been used in a couple of days. Just the thought of eating makes Gi-hun want to wretch.
His heart keeps racing.
Fighting sleep is exhausting. His head hurts, too. He needs to find something. Desperately rummaging through the medicine cabinet, he comes across a bottle of painkillers. It’s expired. He takes it anyway. It’s too fucking quiet to be in this much pain.
Wandering from the bathroom, into the kitchen, he leans against the doorway. Standing here feels like he might still see his mother cooking at the stove. Maybe then the refrigerator would be put to good use.
Maybe if he hopes hard enough she'll come back from the dead so he can tell her how deeply sorry is. She isn’t coming back, though.
What a burden to bear the weight of your own mother’s death on your conscience. Every feeble attempt at finding a distraction is met with what could have been. There is no escape here.
Dirty and pathetic.
He looks down at himself with contempt. Tattered white shirt, unkempt, unshowered, disgusting. He glances at the front door. It’s calling his name.
Bursting back into the bedroom, he scans the floor for his belongings. It's littered in beer bottles and dirty laundry. The mark of a true traumatized bachelor.
He snatches that stupid card from the laundry pile along with a pair of sweatpants. He needs to get away. It's suffocating him.
Life is interesting in Seoul. You grew up sheltered, never leaving the few blocks you grew up around. Now, you’re studying abroad in an entirely different country. It’s wonderful.
Still, you felt out of place. Being relatively fluent in Korean, it wasn’t an issue of language, nor was there a cultural barrier holding you back. The problem is you.
The walls you have put up make it difficult to form connections with people. It’s no surprise that nothing changed just because your environment did.
A lot had happened that led you here. Tumultuous relationship with your mother leading you to being abandoned with little to no life experience to fall back on. She sold her home and moved into the woods in a different state with a newly acquired fiance, leaving you high and dry in the midst of your own struggle with addiction.
But, that was… years ago. You’re 27 now, achieving things you previously thought impossible.
Still, studying abroad is only temporary, and therein lies your issue. Forming close relationships gets difficult when leaving is inevitable. Like with most things, it’s easier not to even bother trying.
So, you sit in the cold on Halloween night, refusing to engage with the nightlife because it scares you, wondering what to do next.
Most don't seem to celebrate and that makes you homesick. Your love of costumes and fantasy cause you to regret not joining in on the festivities downtown.
Spending the night sitting outside the bakery you work at on the weekends isn't exactly your idea of fun, either.
Instead, you stare at the screen on your phone. Scrolling through your social media feed, seeing memories being made with people you left behind for the year.
It doesn't make you sad. You've long replaced that with a much more comfortable numbness. It's like a warm blanket that covers you with an illusion of safety.
Across the street, you can see through the door that it isn't busy. Your one friend, Ha-rin, is on shift for the night. She's lovely, and you wish you could be like her. Vibrant and beautiful with colorful hair and clothes. You used to be bold in that way, but realized it wasn't for you.
You've spun in the opposite direction, opting for a monochrome wardrobe, blending into the background while others live their lives.
It wasn't supposed to be like this, but it is what it is. You came out tonight to escape from the reality that depression is taking hold again. You're falling behind in your studies. It’s not because the work is difficult. You’re in debt and your grades are dropping.
A familiar cycle of neglect is coming to destroy your life as you know it. It feels foreboding in the way it strips you of autonomy. Failing means going back home.
But, you’ll end up back there either way.
It hurts. You just want some caffeine to ease your woes and keep you awake.
Sugar Biscuit Bakery is well known in Seoul. It’s a Valentine's Day themed cafe with a propensity to attract tourists that’s sandwiched between two office buildings. Many dub it a gaudy pink mess of an eyesore. You just think it’s a darling reprieve from your current reality.
Strolling inside, you’re greeted with the sweet smell of baked goods, a charming mess of bright pink curls, and soft low light.
Ha-rin looks bored. The place is absolutely empty. Her head whips up at the sound of the door chime and her smile doubles in size at the sight of you. She beckons you over to the counter, frantically waving her hand to entice you in. She’s charming as ever, adorned from head to toe in rose toned frills. Not a uniform requirement, just her own brand of authenticity.
“Hello, my friend,” You give a tight mouthed grin that doesn’t meet your eyes. Shit . You realize where you went wrong. Ha-rin knows about your circumstances, and she will ask. You swallow the lump in your throat and resist the urge to run right back out the door. Suddenly, you feel like a trapped animal in a cage of your own doing. All you want to do is hide your shame for the time being.
You realize it’s too late to escape once Ha-rin reaches for the largest cup in the stack and waves it around like she’s tempting you.
“Out for an adventure on your day off?” she leans over the counter, wiggling her brow, “ Want your usual?~”
You smile and sigh. Ha-rin is very persuasive, and she happens to have a knack for making your stress melt away.
“Yes. I need coffee,” You respond while digging through your ludicrously capacious bag for your wallet. Ha-rin gets to work on preparing what you order every single time. Peppermint mocha and a vanilla scone. A poor excuse for dinner is your favorite kind.
“It’s quiet tonight,” you note the array of empty booths and tables and can't help but feel a bit envious. It’s always hustle and bustle when you're on shift.
She nods, “Mhm. Everyone is either home or downtown for Halloween. I was so bored before you came in,” She rolls her eyes dramatically while pouring your drink.
You chuckle, taking a much needed bite from your pastry, wash it down with your newly acquired beverage and suddenly all is right with the world again. The hot coffee is like a warm hug for your senses until-
“How’s school?” Ha-rin shatters your peaceful moment with a knowing glance. She rests her cheek on her palm like she's innocent, knowing she absolutely isn't.
You choke a bit. Her question may be in good faith, but you’re here to escape your problems, not talk about them.
“Oh,” You mutter between coughs, “It’s certainly happening.”
Her smile fades. You think you might be scolded by the way she gently utters your name. “Aren’t you worried?” She begins softly, “I mean, in a way, your Visa is really only as good as you are.”
You look down at the cup in your hand. A mixture between fear and shame swirls through your belly. She said what you were already thinking and it kills you a bit inside. Seeing the little heart she drew on the lid for you really puts into perspective what you might lose if you don't fix things. Guilt sets in.
In the beginning, studying abroad seemed like it would be a mystical solvent to fix your struggles and transform you into your ‘ideal self' (whatever that means). But, you have yet to escape your inability to follow through. You’re drowning in it.
Finances, grades, mental health, life itself is slowly killing you inside.
“I’m sorry,” You utter, feeling frozen in place.
She places her hand on your shoulder. The sudden contact sends a shiver down your spine. You're so lonely and the simple gesture feels like it's everything to you. Still, you resist her attempt at comfort and pull away. The ghost of her hand remains burning your skin.
She steps back. “You’re going to be okay, love,” By the look on your face, she knows the comment she made hurt. “You’re my friend and I’m worried. Please reach out if you need anything.”
“I’ll be fine, I promise,” You lie, knowing you really won’t be if you keep going at the pace you are.
Gi-hun feels strange. The world around him is vivid, but out of focus. His vision isn’t quite right and his heart is beating faster than it should be. He brushes the hair out of his eyes, each step quicker than the last. The streets are emptier than usual and the medication did jack shit to fix his headache.
The few who do pass by seem to stare. The accidental eye contact causes him to feel uneasy. It’s the first time in a week that he’s left his home and so far he regrets it. Still, he needs to find some sort of escape so he continues hurrying through the streets in search of his next destination.
Maybe a pub, or an inn, even the red light district. The worse the better. Anything other than gambling is up for grabs.
A man in a suit passes by and suddenly everything stops. For a moment, he thought it was the recruiter. It wasn’t, just some guy walking home from work.
What if it was, though?
The man disappears behind a corner and Gi-hun is frozen in place.
Would I be ready if I saw him again?
He grips his hair with both hands, surroundings suddenly coming back into focus. ‘What am I doing?’ he wonders, staring up at the neon sign above his head. He’s been standing frozen in front of a cafe. Sugar Biscuit Bakery. His stomach rumbles at the sight of the large illuminated croissant beside the logo. He really can’t remember the last time he ate.
He looks through the glass only to be met with two women staring at him from inside. They exchange words before shifting their gaze back on him. His face flushes a deep red. Their visible concern snaps him further back into reality.
Gi-hun sheepishly waves at them through the window before entering the heart shaped doors. He could die right here based on how foolish he must look, but his hands are shaking, he’s starving, and they happen to serve food here.
“... Hi, welcome in,” the barista greets from her place at the register before whispering something to the woman beside her. A foreign girl leaning against the bar who looks as out of place as Gi-hun feels. She's looking between him and her hands.
The low lighting is a relief to his senses but he feels light and airy. Each step he takes is more unstable than the last. The change in scenery has made him realize how weak his body feels. He shoves shaky hands into his pockets, feigning a nonchalant demeanor.
The two women continue to stare.
“How can I help you?” The barista squeaks, donning a mask of hospitality as if the last few minutes didn’t happen. The sunshine and rainbows demeanor is not what he needs right now. Not at all.
The girl beside her is much more palatable. Still, he returns her smile with one of his own. It doesn't reach his eyes.
Looking at the case makes his appetite disappear. The cartoon logo outside looked more appealing than the array of food on display in front of him. It’s all so colorful, and somewhere along the way his hunger turned back into nausea. Still, he has to eat something.
“Ah, peanut butter croissant and… a hot latte, please.”
He can hear her tapping the screen but he can’t focus. The weakness in his legs is unavoidable, and so is the sudden bout of perspiration dripping down his brow.
It’s warm in here. Something’s not quite right, he thinks he might-
“Sir?”
Oh, shit.
“Your total is-”
“Actually, where’s your restroom?” He interrupts.
“Oh, uh, it’s through those doors,” She gestures to the back of the building but it’s all fading. He’s thinking. His environment looks like it’s shrouded in white fog.
He takes a step forward only for his leg to give out. He’s conscious. Barely.
“Oh my god,” the girls say in unison, simultaneously rushing to his aid.
It all happened so fast. One minute you’re chatting with Ha-rin and now you’re rushing to some half conscious stranger's aid.
You’re at his side within seconds, holding him up so he doesn’t himself on the tile. He went from his knees, to his palms, and you caught him right before he fell neatly on his face. He’s heavy and you topple down with him.
Ha-rin hovers over the scene like she’s afraid to touch him. She’s stuck frozen with her mouth closed tight and you’re sure she’d rather be anywhere else right now.
“M’sorry…” He mumbles, leaning further into you. Adrenaline floods your veins as you attempt to lift him, but his dead weight is too heavy. His head is dangling, and you’re unsure of what to do.
A few people start to crowd around the window outside. It’s a sight to behold, but you’d prefer they mind their business.
“You’re okay. Talk to me, hun,” Rubbing circles on his back in an attempt to soothe, you kneel, lowering his head so it’s cradled in your lap. He’s sweating, and your heart suddenly starts beating faster and you absentmindedly brush a bit of hair away from his forehead.
“Oh my god, oh my GOD,” Ha-rin is frantic, shielding her face from view with both hands. She peeks with one eye between two of her fingers. “Is he dead?”
You scoff at her.
Okay, that's not helping. At all.
“Ha-rin, call the emergency line. Now.”
Your eyes don't leave him. He isn't fully unconscious and you're not sure what to do. Is he having a heart attack? Probably not.
“Mmmph…” A strangled moan escapes his throat “Please, don’t call anybody. I’m fine, jus’ dizzy.” He breathes.
Ha-rin looks to you for guidance pointing at her phone. The bell on the front door chimes, altering you as a party of ten enters the building. They stop, taking in the scene before them.
“It’s okay. Take care of them. I'll figure out what needs to happen next,” You shoo her away with one hand, soothing him with the other.
“I- I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened,” He mumbles and a bit of relief washes over you. He’s more coherent than before. Thank the lord.
His head remains in your lap and your eyes meet for the first time up close. They're brown, tragic, and glossy. The kind of eyes unable to disguise what they’ve seen.
You realize you're petting him. Oh.
“I- um,” He blinks at the contact, but doesn’t pull away from your touch. In fact, he leans into it. Your eyes widen and you immediately break contact. His eyes are barely open, but he's decently coherent. That's a good sign, right?
You chuckle out of nervousness. This situation became uncomfortable very quickly. “Sorry. Are you doing okay?”
He sits up, hugging his knees to his chest. “Yeah,” He smiles. It's awkward.
“Let's get you somewhere comfortable that isn't in the middle of the floor.”
You left Gi-hun in a booth at the back of the restaurant before rushing up to get what he ordered. You can feel Ha-rin’s eyes on you as you grab it. She’s trapped at the till, waiting for a couple to make up their mind but she waves you over.
“Hey, do you think he’s drunk or something? Did you call?” Ha-rin whispers into your ear.
“No. Not at all. To both,” Your expression hardens, unsure of what to make of this nervous wreck of a man. He seemed afraid when he first walked in, but you couldn't tell what he might be afraid of.
You glance outside and back to him, wondering if he was being followed or something. There’s a group of thugs that have been lurking the area recently. You wonder if the two events are connected. Nevertheless, you yank his food and drink off the counter and speed walk back to the booth.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s on the house.” You smile.
Gi-hun lays his head on the table in defeat, digging through his pocket with one hand. Without looking up, he shoves a little yellow bank card in your face.
Feeling nosey, you study it, wondering if it says anything about him. It doesn't. You frown.
“What’s your name?” You can't help but wonder aloud.
For a moment, he looks up at you with the saddest puppy dog eyes you’ve ever seen. “Seong Gi-hun,” he responds before burying his face back in his arm.
You hesitate, staring down at the mess of dark hair before you. “Are you okay, Gi-hun?”
He hesitates. “I’m alright,” His lie comes out muffled.
“Can I call someone for you?” It feels a bit silly to ask that, assuming he probably has a phone. Maybe it’s dead, maybe he lost it.
He breathes, laying on the table still looking up at you. “No one to call.” his eyes are half closed and he smiles. It’s the self deprecating sort of grin that you recognize. Whatever’s going on in his life, he isn’t enjoying it.
“Oh. Okay.” You look across the room at Ha-rin, who is currently taking another order. When you look back down at Gi-hun, he’s staring at the card in his hand.
You’re nervous. Realistically, you should leave this poor man be and go on with your night. He clearly isn’t having a good time, and you already embarrassed yourself once by petting a grown man’s hair. But, going home means working on your studies. And also thinking. Gi-hun is a much more interesting focal point to the evening.
“Would it be alright if I sat with you?” Stupid stupid that sounded so stupid.
He looks up with a confused pout. “Sure,” Oh.
You plop down across from him with your hands tangled together in your lap. The silence is not particularly loud but more of a comfortable hum. The two of you exchange tight lipped glances.
You watch him as he watches his food. He slowly reaches towards the pastry, taking it in one hand, picking at it with two fingers. He’s timid at first, only eating small nibbles. Only beginning to scarf it down on his third bite. You can imagine me after passing out, he’s amassed quite an appetite. It’s a bit charming and a bit sad.
“Want some?” He offers you the very last bite through a mouthful of pastry.
You giggle. “No, thank you. I work here and I'm kinda burnt out on the food, to be honest,” you brush some hair behind your ear, “Besides, our raspberry croissant is even better.”
“Hmm.” He’s too lost in his own world to respond.
He devours the last bite and your heart skips a beat.
“You look tired.” You blurt out, shocked at your ability to state the obvious. Still, he leans back in the booth and laughs.
“No shit. You do, too.” You grin at his response.
“Are you feeling better?”
“Not really,” He averts his eyes to the floor.
“Do you feel well enough to get home? I could walk with you or something,” There’s enthusiasm in your tone that makes you cringe.
Why would a grown man want you to walk him home? Maybe he didn't even walk.
The urge to care for him is overriding your sense of logic and reason. It's messing with your head.
That was the tipping point. The air suddenly feels a bit warmer, his head snaps back in your direction, eyes wide, rosy cheeks. “No, no. That isn’t necessary, haha,” frantically waving his arms and shaking his head in protest.
Suddenly, a familiar feeling stirs inside, helping you remember why you don’t put yourself out there or open up. It’s always too much too soon and you end up pushing people away with your lack of boundaries. His reaction builds those walls right back up. And, honestly, that’s a good thing.
He stands, brushing the crumbs off his clothes and the table, checking his pockets for his belongings.
“Well, have a great night. Thanks for your help!” He waves, tripping over his own feet. He wastes no time rushing toward the exit.
“Oh, yeah, no problem. I-”
The bell rings. Your sentence hangs in the air as the door shuts behind him. You feel disappointed watching him go.
But why would he want to stay?
Ha-rin is by your side within seconds. You jump at her sudden appearance. It’s a lot. You just want to teleport home and crawl into bed.
“That guy was kinda weird…” she curls a strand of hair around her finger. “Like, really weird, actually.”
You shake your head. “On paper, yes. Intuitively, no,” You’re staring at where he sat, “His name is Gi-hun. I kinda hope he comes back, actually.”
She gasps. “No way. Why?”
“I… don't really know.”
What an odd encounter with a stranger. It somehow made your night better. Oh, well.