Chapter Text
Sohee has to physically stop himself from groaning.
Like, a deep soul-crushing sigh of frustration.
Across the room, he throws a desperate look at wonbin, his roommate, who’s currently laying upside down on the couch scrolling through tiktok like he isn’t witnessing a public execution. Wonbin glances back at him with the most obnoxious grin imaginable, clearly entertained by whatever’s happening on the other side of the call.
If his mother wasn’t actively giving him a financial lecture over the phone right now, Sohee would've already launched himself at him.
“Are you even listening to me, Lee Sohee?”
His mother’s voice comes sharp through the speaker. Sohee answers with a weak hum.
Honestly, his biggest mistake had been asking Jimin for money. His sister couldn’t keep a secret to save her life. one tiny “hey can i borrow some cash” and suddenly the entire family tree was involved.
“You’re a good student, Sohee,” His mother continues. “That’s why i allowed you to move out for university in the first place. The semester hasn’t even started yet and somehow you’re already spending ridiculous amounts of money. More than you ever did at home. What’s going on? Are you being blackmailed? Bullied?”
Sohee rolls his eyes so hard it almost gives him a headache.
“Nothing like that, mom,” He says, leaning back in his chair while absentmindedly playing with the wire of the headphones hanging around his neck. “I just wanted to buy some stuff before my first year starts so i can look cool, you know? City college students, private university, and then there’s me. Small town scholarship kid. Tragic.”
From the couch, Wonbin chokes on a laugh.
Sohee shoots him the nastiest glare imaginable.
His mother sighs on the other side of the line.
“Is that what this is about?”
Not even remotely, actually. Sohee couldn’t care less what some rich kids thought about him. Anyone who knew him for longer than five minutes would know that. But unfortunately for everyone involved, his mother had a catastrophic soft spot for him.
Thank god she called instead of his father.
“Let this be the last time, Sohee,” She says. “Help your father and me out a little. We can’t afford money disappearing this fast. I know you’re working, but even if it’s not enough, you need to start acting responsibly and saving up. And next time you ask Jimin for money, i’ll tell your father. You don’t want that, do you?”
Sohee swallows.
“Yeah, mom,” He mumbles. “Thanks. And sorry. Love you.”
The call ends.
Silence fills the apartment.
Then, not even five minutes later, the notification for the bank transfer pops up on his phone.
Sohee, who had been staring at the screen with the anxiety of a man awaiting trial, immediately turns toward wonbin with the most evil little grin.
Wonbin snorts.
“I feel horrible for your poor mother.”
Sohee just laughs and turns back to his computer, the expensive gaming setup his dad bought him as a graduation present glowing brightly in front of him. With a relieved smile, he finishes the purchase he’d almost lost because he ran out of money halfway through and had to text his sister like a financially irresponsible raccoon.
“This is your fault, by the way,” He says. “You’re literally the only stupidly rich best friend in the world who refuses to lend his poor, struggling friend a hundred dollars for his silly little hobbies.”
Wonbin throws a pillow directly at his head.
“I’m not enabling your gambling addiction, Sohee.”
Sohee immediately throws the pillow back with as much force as his arms can manage.
“I’m not addicted, fuck off.”
He turns back toward his monitor just in time for the new skin animation to appear on screen.
And oh.
Oh, it’s beautiful.
A loud, embarrassingly high-pitched squeal leaves his mouth before he can stop it.
God. Every lie, every dollar, every humiliating conversation with his mother had been worth it.
The thing is... Sohee hadn’t always been like this.
His entire life used to revolve around getting perfect grades, standing out in music festivals, and being the pride of the family. He spent so much time buried in math books and korean history notes that his social life basically evaporated before it even had the chance to exist.
For some reason, people at school developed this weird dislike toward him. They thought he was arrogant, like he only cared about proving he was smarter than everyone else. So starting in middle school, people began excluding him on purpose.
At first, it sucked.
Like genuinely devastating fourteen-year-old experience.
But after a few months, sohee came to the conclusion that he actually didn’t need to surround himself with people who had inferiority complexes the size of planets. Eventually, he just learned to like himself instead.
Then, after a particularly important exam, his dad bought him his first gaming console.
And honestly? That decision changed lives.
While the kids at school were out doing extracurriculars and having matching friend group vacations during summer break, Sohee spent most of his time locked in his room gaming and studying.
And Wonbin…
They came from completely opposite worlds.
Sohee grew up in a modest family that had just enough money to live comfortably without luxuries. Wonbin, meanwhile, was basically seoul tech royalty. Heir to one of the biggest technology companies in the country, stupidly rich, life already set before he could legally drink.
They met at some national academic competition years ago, both invited as “gifted students,” which sounded deeply embarrassing in retrospect.
Fourteen-year-old Sohee absolutely destroyed Wonbin in the english languages division.
Humiliated him, actually.
And apparently that experience altered wonbin’s brain chemistry forever because he became weirdly obsessed with the broke little nerd who handed him the academic equivalent of a public execution.
Somehow, against all odds, they became inseparable after that.
Now Wonbin was twenty, Sohee was nineteen, and they were roommates.
Though sometimes Sohee genuinely suspected Wonbin only kept him around because he was waiting for the perfect moment to avenge his fifteen-year-old self.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Wonbin says.
Sohee scoffs dramatically while queueing up for a match so he can properly admire his new skin in-game.
God, he’s actually so excited.
“Besides,” Wonbin adds, “you’ve never actually asked me for money. You know if you did—”
“Don’t say stupid shit, Park Wonbin,” Sohee cuts him off immediately. “You know I’d never take advantage of you or ask you for money. Don’t be ridiculous.”
Wonbin presses his lips together but doesn’t say anything else, just lowering his gaze back to his phone while Sohee loads into the same game he’s been disgustingly addicted to since he was fifteen.
And honestly, it was true.
In almost six years of friendship, Sohee had never once asked Wonbin for anything money-related. Whenever they went out, Sohee always paid for himself. And when Wonbin secretly covered the bill, Sohee would literally send him the money afterward against his will.
He was so stubborn that Wonbin had eventually just given up fighting him about it.
“Ah, this bitch took Ahri—”
Sohee’s offended screech breaks Wonbin out of his thoughts.
Wonbin snorts without looking up from TikTok.
“That’s kinda what you deserve.”
“Shut up, Wonbin. I hate people who play duo so much, especially couples. It’s always some boosted idiot getting carried by their partner while pretending they earned their rank.”
“I understood maybe three words in that sentence.”
“And she has the skin I literally just bought,” Sohee whines, grabbing his own hair dramatically. “I bet her duo gifted it to her too. Meanwhile I had to emotionally manipulate my family for this. Women have life on easy mode.”
Wonbin bursts out laughing.
“I’ve genuinely never heard this much nonsense come out of your mouth before.”
He gets up from the couch and walks over to stand behind Sohee’s chair, watching his fingers fly aggressively across the keyboard.
Wonbin barely understands anything about the game, but he’s watched Sohee play enough times to know they’re still in champion select and Sohee is probably already insulting his teammates.
“‘Just for her.’ ‘Just for him,’” Wonbin reads aloud from the usernames on screen. “Wow. They really do look like one of those unbearable couples you’re always complaining about.”
Sohee startles violently.
He definitely hadn’t heard Wonbin walk over.
“See?! I’m not exaggerating!”
Wonbin personally believes Sohee exaggerates constantly. It’s honestly tragic that someone as smart and talented as Sohee is also such a massive loser.
“I ordered food,” Wonbin says after a moment. “It’s late, and you have to go to the café tomorrow, so I figured you wouldn’t wanna cook. Finish this match and come eat, okay?”
Sohee nods distractedly, eyes still glued to the monitor.
“Don’t make me disconnect the wifi, Sohee. I swear to god, if you make me wait longer than ten minutes, I’ll strangle you with the router cable.”
Sohee swallows and finally turns to look at him for a few seconds before facing the screen again.
“Yes, mom.”
Sohee had an absolutely horrific day.
And Wonbin seems to realize it immediately because the second Sohee walks into the apartment, he doesn’t say anything annoying for once. No stupid comments, no dramatic greetings, no “you look like death” jokes.
Which honestly feels more threatening somehow.
Instead, Wonbin just quietly orbits around him with that unbearably pitying expression on his face while Sohee changes out of his work uniform.
Sohee can physically feel his eyes following him around the room.
“What?” he finally snaps after pulling on his oversized Naruto shirt and a pair of shorts. “Why are you looking at me like I just came back from war?”
Wonbin shrugs from where he’s sitting on Sohee’s bed.
“You looked one inconvenience away from committing crimes when you walked in.”
Sohee flops face-first onto the mattress beside him with the most exhausted groan imaginable.
“First,” he starts dramatically, holding up one finger, “some old asshole threw his iced americano at me because there were ‘too many ice cubes.’”
Wonbin winces.
“Then I dropped an entire supply box on my pinky toe.”
“That one’s kinda your fault.”
“Shut up.” Sohee continues louder, “during lunch break, my dad called because apparently my sister can’t keep secrets to save her fucking life and told me they’re not giving me another cent until university starts.”
“Oof.”
“So now I have to survive for a month and a half using my shitty café paycheck,” Sohee says miserably, “and he talked to me like I’d robbed a bank instead of buying one skin.”
Wonbin hums sympathetically.
“And fucking then,” Sohee says, sitting up dramatically, “to make everything worse, they announced my favorite skin in the entire game is getting a limited rerun starting tomorrow.”
Wonbin stares at him.
“…That’s the part you’re most upset about?”
“It leaves in two days, Wonbin.”
“You need psychiatric evaluation.”
Sohee ignores him completely, burying his face into a pillow with a long suffering groan while Wonbin absentmindedly reaches over and pokes his side.
“Also,” Wonbin says after a moment, “you smell aggressively like coffee.”
Sohee immediately starts kicking his legs around in annoyance.
“DON’T remind me. I smell like expired espresso beans and failure.”
Wonbin laughs quietly.
The room falls silent for a bit after that, only interrupted by TikTok audio bleeding faintly from Wonbin’s phone and Sohee occasionally mumbling insults into his pillow.
“Hypothetically,” Sohee says.
Wonbin immediately sighs.
“Oh, this is gonna be awful.”
“Hear me out first.”
“That sentence has never once led to anything good.”
Sohee lifts his head slightly, resting his chin against the pillow while staring at the wall with the intensity of a man about to reinvent fraud.
“Hypothetically,” he repeats slowly, “if a man spends money on me in a game because he thinks I’m a cute girl… that’s kinda on him, no?”
Wonbin doesn’t even look up from his phone.
“You’re actually insane.”
“No, but think about it logically.”
“I refuse.”
“I’m serious,” Sohee insists, sitting up now. “Like, if someone chooses to spend money voluntarily, that’s not technically stealing.”
“You are literally describing manipulation.”
“Okay, wow. Suddenly everyone has a law degree.”
Wonbin finally lowers his phone enough to stare at him properly.
“So what exactly are you planning here?” he asks slowly. “Catfishing lonely men for League of Legends skins?”
Sohee gasps dramatically.
“When you say it like that, it sounds unethical.”
“It IS unethical.”
“But the skin leaves in two days,” Sohee says, like that explains everything.
Wonbin stares at him for a long moment.
“You don’t even know how to act like a girl.”
Sohee looks deeply offended.
“Excuse you? Have you seen my Instagram selfies?”
“That is not the same thing.”
“I could pull it off.”
“No, you couldn’t.”
“I literally have naturally huge eyes and delicate wrists.”
Wonbin makes a face like he regrets learning how to hear.
“Oh my god.”
“I’m just saying,” Sohee continues confidently, “with the right profile picture,enough strategically placed emojis and a cute nickname? Men are stupid. Especially gamers.”
“You sound like a supervillain.”
Sohee points at him aggressively.
“And yet you understand my vision.”
“I absolutely do not.”
But Wonbin is already starting to laugh again, which Sohee chooses to interpret as support.