#nature version of smoking a cig
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Hiiii can I please request a an established relationship Miguel x reader where reader stress smokes and Miguel doesn’t know and reader hides the fact that they smoke cigs from the stress (reader is a scientist in the fic for spider society!!) and one day Miguel find out and he’s disappointed and pissed 😮😮 also it could ends in fluff or smut it’s all up to you😸🫶🏻
YES! this will end more in fluff but i could always make a version that ends in smut so let me know 💆🏽♀️!!
it was a starry night you had went up to sit on the rooftop of your apartment building to relax as per usual. you always had a little smoke sesh after a long strenuous day at the spider society in the labs running experiments all day long with miguel. whatever your boyfriend needed you did it and he expected nothing less from you and so it was the only way you could unwind to relax. to be by yourself. you became one with nature as you looked up at the stars shimmering in the night’s sky. you loved stargazing at night on the rooftop and being by yourself whether it was to smoke weed or light up a cig. you usually like to smoke weed since it was the “healthier” option but today you were just in the mood to smoke a cigarette. deep down you kind of regretted keeping this fact from miguel that you smoked. ironically enough you were a scientist obviously being well versed in biology, biochemistry, and the medical field but to be honest you were just a human being. you did not care if smoking would harm you or not as this was your outlet of becoming undone. smoking and going to a secluded area was your little getaway from it all.
unbeknownst to you, you did not hear the footsteps of you boyfriend miguel treaded quietly behind you. your back was facing him as you puffed out an air of smoke from your mouth while holding your knees to your chest and running a hand through you air. you felt him grip your rest and knock the cig out of your hold and that startled you. you were about to scream until you turned to face him. he was fuming to say the least. from all this time that he had known you--you hid the fact that you smoked from him. “what are you even smoking??” he said in disbelief as his grip on your wrist did not waver at all. miguel was big on health and you well-being. to say you smoke behind his back left him perplexed in a turmoil of emotions. you knew smoking was bad for your lungs but you pushed that fact deep in the crevices of your mind.
“look miguel—“ he had pulled you up to your feet as you know faced him completely. “why? you know smoking is bad for your health!!” his eyes squinted at you in anger and in disbelief, his red eyes were now glowing under the night sky. you felt ashamed because you were going to keep this away from him and you did not intend for him to find out about your smoking habits. “because it helps me relax!” you spatted out as you pulled your wrist away from him, “i am sorry but this is my only way of relieving stress..” he scoffed hearing you spew out those words. he shook his head taking offense as to what you said as his nostrils flared. “your only way to relax?? you are an adult you should be able to find better and healthier ways to relax.” Miguel’s voice boomed in authority while he looked into your eyes the way you shifted under his gaze. he knew you felt ashamed and hurt at the same time but how would anyone feel if they found out their partner had unhealthy coping mechanisms. he wanted you to be healthy. you were the only person he had left. you now realized why he acted the way he did. you can’t blame a man who is always so hard on himself and trying to keep everyone safe. you sighed as you hung your head low mustering up the right words to tell him. “miguel, I’m truly sorry i kept this away from you. i hope you understand how stressed i`ve been feeling lately.” your eyes were a bit glossy as you wanted to cry but you held back the tears from spilling. everyone and everything has been so hard on you as you and miguel were trying to fix the mess the spot had made. miguel admired your sincerity as he had calmed down a bit. he broke the distance between you as he embraced you in his arms. his arms held a protective hold on your body as he kissed into your hair and rubbing circles on your back.
“promise me you will quit. i`m sorry for raising my voice at you. i love you so much and i don’t want anything bad happening to you.” he said softly into your hair. he had felt you nod against him as you took his words to heart. “of course, and ill promise to find better ways to manage my stress. i love you more, miguel.” he slightly parted away from you as he hooked his fingers under your chin brinigng your face against his. his eyes had now returned to the dark pools of honey the ones that you have fallen in love with as he gently brushed his lips against yours. you felt so loved and happy that miguel was very understanding despite the fact he can be strict as he usually ruled with an iron hand. but for you, he was soft and kind. he let himself be vulnerable around him as he wanted you to feel the same. he dropped all his walls just for you letting him get to know his good side.
#spiderman atsv#miguel o'hara#spider man: across the spider verse#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel spiderman#spider person#spidersona#atsv x reader#miguel o’hara x y/n#ao3 works#smoker reader#scientist reader#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse#miguel x you#🌱 lin writes
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🔊 ooh definitely want to send ur two DE guys. and uhhhhhh. uhhhh. any of yoohankim. as options u dont have to more than one of these lol
this a delight. this a gift. thinking about this for hours.
ill start with the disappointment first. even [checks notes] 265 ch in i do not GET hsy... i like her, i appreciate her. i do not understand her on the deep and motivational/emotional level to give her a good song. shes getting hound dog by big mama thornton purely on her dirt bag charm (shes the hound dog)(also i like it)
second. (DE) kim is causing me problems because he is. naturally. the coolest fictional character ever created. he needs a song that sounds like whiskey and fancy leather seats and his one cig he smokes going over his case notes. and that feels jazz to me. im not a jazz expert so im gonna do with this specific nina simone performance of i wish i knew how it would feel to be free cause its a very cool performance (also hes a bit repressed idk...)
hdb is getting, well its not the the whacky yet insightful psychic detective i played, or even what im thinking about him, but i think its a song he would listen to all the fucking time. ain't no sunshine from bill withers
and finally. a glimpse of my deep dark machinations. tour de force in narrow cast blogging. kdj and yjh are getting songs from the internets favourite fictional sport based band. the garages. for yjh the second time, specifically the live at RIV version
and my person thinking about kdj song pathetic/spineless, and fuck it. specifically the ska version
#some shit#joelleity#OKAY. ENOUGH DEBATE ME @ ME#have at#sorry i linked 3 different websites#orv blogging#sad.fm
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I had every intention of drawing like an actual background and stuff to this, but got tired and so now they’re just sitting in the void XD
This is based on an Issue 0 idea, but will probably take place in canon as well
Basically in the Issue 0 version Cig gets tired of Scream always hounding Candy and acting like an entitled little bitch in his club, and threatens to kick him out for good (and possibly worse) if he comes around again. Candy, however, doesn’t want anything bad to happen to Scream and proposes that Scream come work for Cig as a server in his club. Being the sugar daddy that he is, Cig doesn’t wanna deny Candy his wants and agrees, but Scream tends to fall under that “my property” thing he applies to his sex workers as well. That also means he gets a sexy club-friendly uniform lmao
In possible canon the situation is a bit spicier with Scream also agreeing to be Cig’s sex slave to make up for “distracting Candy from his work”...which is promptly kinda “wait shit what did I agree to?”
While he continues to uphold his half of the bargain for Candy’s sake, Scream does have to deal with a lot of shit; such as Cig using his powers to “heat things up” by literally heating things up. YEAH, I kinda forgot to explain that Cig’s mutation is naturally being able to control his body heat to the point of producing smoke and heating up certain body parts to the extremity of a lit cigarette (THUS THE NAME)
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OMG OMG OMG AM I A BADDIE?!
So my lil high school sweet heart or whatever is back in my life. After many toxic iterations of our love story… being mentally I’ll together and a part. Being abusive together and a part… going through community drama together and a part…
We have come back together while healing. We still be on fuck shit. But are aware and take responsibility more often than not.
ANYWAY this nigga got a whole husband. AND AND AND is poly. And asked to be my boyfriend 😭
Now you know I just got out of some shit… BUT OMG!
He knows me and is sweet while also dominate. We just got close to 10 years under our belt. He knows the signs that I am triggered. I know people often label his as aggressive or judgmental.
Yesterday he picked me up from my parents’ , drive to Wisconsin where cigs are cheaper and bought me THREE PACKS!
We went grocery shopping for the special dinner he was gonna make his husband and in the store he would grab my hand, lead me to places, and push me around in such a protective, this my anxious baby kinda way.
He gave me an O for free, took me out to eat, we got Pho.
Smoked me up and gave me drinks. And idk I still find it so sexy when a nigga can drink and drive and still be a better driver than most.
I am concerned cause I skipped one of my classes 😬. Also my baby getting back into some snow. But I’m meditating on the best course of action.
I really just loved how I get to be my full bratty self with him. And how he respects my bodily triggers. He don’t touch me unless I touch him but knows that doesn’t apply when I’m anxious.
He and I have similar identities and struggle with community in similar ways. We been out here queer and doing activism for a long time.
We comfortable with each other! We den almost killed each other and still knew deep down their was childhood bonding and loving.
Even though he broke my heart in more major ways in paper than my most recent ex. He didn’t false avertise and now has worked on taking accountability.
Whenever my ex text me, or we share space a shrill rolls through my body. Their own physical manifestations of insecurities, trauma, and shame make my skin crawl. I’m distrustful of their attraction towards me. They still give off the sentiment of “sorry not sorry” when they cross my boundaries.
It makes me anxious that they have a sims character of me. I felt violated when they gave that character a kid and used the name Araki. And all the bullshit about making me, the girl version of our friend, and them in a triad runs me the wrong way. I get why folks use sims. To me it’s a bit too meta. Plus I’m like… don’t put that energy on me for a sense of control.
And plus the fatphobic comments they make… I never got over them first sucking on my third eye without asking, repeatedly playing with my nipples when I said no, and often saying their attraction to me makes it hard for them to adhere to my boundaries. And I hate how in their head they turn it into “I’m not ashamed to love you or desire you” like nigga! They a survivor of sexual assault too and are fat so I’m like… have you never felt like a human fleshlight or blow up doll where folks are like “eh, you’ll do to satisfy my urges”?
Yesterday our mutual friend got out of rehab. So even though I broke up with my best friend as well, her and I made amends and went to the house of artist after I had school and work.
My ex was working late so it was just… a lot going on. Our mutual friend has been gone and he often kept spirits high and the peace. He lives with my ex, so naturally they are closer.
But I worked hard on not pushing my paranoia onto people. Anyway I was on a high from my date. I was finally treated like a Baddie Goddess where I get the offerings and protection, and stares of admiration. It felt good to feel attractive enough to be given gifts for simply being me.
But last night at the spot… idk my ex was being weird. It might have been influenced by me posting a pic to my insta story where I’m grabbing my boyfriend’s thigh while they drive and “I’m in love with your nigga” is playing. Yea I’m the whole “when she with the nigga she told you not to worry about” meme. 😬
Anyway my ex has a stress coping skill that triggers me. It’s a “low” level form of self harm. But creates a lot of puss and bacteria. Before they crossed my boundaries it was hard to bring up. I did tho, but not directly. Their touch with the combo of their self harm and boundary crossing makes it so my skin crawls when they touch me. I immediately get itchy.
And I’ve been worried about touch since I was 9 years old. There are times when I scream for my dad not to touch me. Before this summer, I went two and half years without sex, dating, or even much hugging. And I get itchy all over from anxiety at times. I get rashes from soap detergent.
And then their ache and crave for touch makes me want to repel. They remind me of how desperate I was with The Joker. And idk when anyone likes me and starts craving my touch… I immediately want to run away. I get annoyed with people like I do with pets. How could you ever express your need for touch without shame? Without fear of rejection? Without keeping in mind desperation is not attractive?
I feel like The Joker in this relationship. I was the first for my ex in a lot of stuff in terms of romance and touch. They were the most vulnerable with me. I feel guilty about that alone. I know how it feels when you’re lovesick for a nigga.
Also their pushy-ness triggers the fuck out of me. Is that how I be looking?! Saw on insta yesterday that we need 8 , 20 second hugs a day. Minimum. I crave full body hugs from people I feel safe with. I don’t feel safe with them anymore. I worry about my skin, I worry about stringing them along, I worry they don’t see me outside of their attraction to me.
Plus they broke up with me twice because I didn’t have the time/was triggered by laying in bed with them. I like to trap! Staying in bed too long just reminds me of 2020 and 2021 where I was glued to my bed and gained so much weight and anxiety. As well as all the times I’ve been raped. Or pushed into being intimate.
Now they are love bombing me, love letters, phone calls, rides, cigarettes, weed, money. They are giving me a lot of gifts. But unlike with my boyfriend, it just makes me feel weird. Lowkey I’m so happy and gushing about my boyfriend giving me gifts and rides… but am also triggered. I don’t like being dependent on others and I already am so much. I don’t like having to think about people’s intentions/reasonings for giving me gifts.
With my ex I know I’m going to look like a user. I feel like a user. Like this past week I’ve only entertained them because I couldn’t afford Lyfts. Well that’s not the only reason. I do want to be their friend. I love how smart and creative they are.
I don’t like how they use to beg me for touch or kisses. Even before we were on bad terms. They use to beg me for more “quality time”. But they just meant cuddling in bed and having sex. And would get so upset and then shady or irritable when I wanted to hang out with their housemates or trap with my friends. Their would be days i focused all of my energy and intention of their pleasure (they never made me cum, would touch me sexually without my permission outside the bedroom and then always want to receive more than give inside the bedroom). One time I cuddled with them all night even though I was just going through my own personal triggers that had nothing to do with them. We were a little sexual although I wasn’t 100% secure. Then I’m the morning I rubbed and massaged coconut oil on their entire body.
That same day we got into an argument about “quality time”. They never took me out on a date, I always came to their house, and pleasure was mostly focused on their needs. They got mad social anxiety so I was trying not to trip until the argument over “quality time” came up.
They stood strong on not wanting to feel shamed for their desires. Which I encourage. I just felt like my triggers and symptoms weren’t really being listened to. Like, coming off if sex work and rape… I HATE when people expect and demand my touch or sensuality. I immediately feel of service and like an object.
And I was playing healer and caretaker a lot in that relationship. Yea they gave/give me rides… but I was a whole therapist with them. Let me give them more credit, they put up with my rants pretty well.
I just have been appreciative of my boyfriend’s approach and energy. He doesn’t NEED my touch or reassurance. Or accepts and feels love when all I can do is sit with him. He doesn’t consume my stand offness as him being not good enough. He isn’t dependent on my sexual attention. And I recognize that’s partly because he is married. And is conveniently attractive and thin. He, for the most part, knows he is desirable so I don’t have to fill his cup in that way.
All the people I am currently attracted to are fine ass Niggas that got hoes. I’m trying to discern their privilege versus their experiences versus the nature/timing of our relationships when comparing them to my ex.
These niggas never pressure me verbally, physically, or energeticlly for touch. Omg I love it when folks express openness with their body language without outstretching their body or energy towards mine. Like they make their attraction to me known but then just sit back, calm cool and collected and wait for me to engage. Like yesterday my boyfriend let me take lead on kisses or would just idk lean his head up and forward without demanding a kiss.
Which made me feel like he wasn’t relaying, demanding, or depending on my touch. Which made me feel enthusiastic to give it. I’m such a bratty verse. 😂
And then the other two ppl I’m craving intimacy with are unavailable (???) okay that’s giving attachment issues. Which, YES. Same time though, these men have expressed liking my PERSONALITY AND ENERGY. They’ve expressed being attracted and drawn to my energy but like are in relationships so I feel no responsibility. They also busy as fuck and got everyone on their dick.
Also just still battling with the trauma of being a fat pussy owner whose been taught male validation is the be all end all.
Yesterday was amazing though. BITCH IMMA BADDIE! 😂
Jk though cause then when I was at a bar with my best friend who is thin and Native (fetishized and conventionally attractive) I went back to being the fat Black ugly friend. Where men and some women act like I don’t even exist or should be repelled by. (This could also partly be my insecurities projecting)
Idk. Also since King fucking cuddled with me, I feel like my ex craving touch desperately. I do want to be held and squeezed and share intimacy. Just not all day in bed or with my ex.
It’s just hard for me to not feel bad about that. Like the evil in my mind is telling me terrible things. Since I no longer am physically attracted to my ex. And my friends’ internal fat phobia got them telling me I “can do better” in terms of looks… I’m worried about being ugly and wonder, will people I find attractive, find me worthy of being a primary partner?
Cause my disorganized attachment style and insecurities make me absolutely love and despise being a side piece.
Like my mind is telling me, only “ugly” people like you enough to date you and be respectful and patient and loyal.
But then my brain is like, your ex isn’t ugly. That’s white supremacy bitch. And and and they were not respect or patient with you.
You know what it really is, my boyfriend prefers white people. Skinny white people. And that fact has caused me a lot of pain and internal shame over the years.
I just feel bad desperately craving a divine masculine energy to primarily date. Like um, I want to feel cute, and pretty, and sexy… like I can trust and believe my partner sees me that way AND that’s not it. It’s not based on what I can do for them, their growth, their sexuality. More like, we build each other up, are romantically and social compatible and i public people respect their authority. Yes I want a partner with make privilege 😭 they don’t gotta be a man but I want to feel protected out in public. Like I don’t want to have to play role of warrior 24/7 or often with them.
I want them to be dominate in most but not all social settings. Able to control and entertain my brat, and then are verse in the bedroom. And I wanna be number one, top priority but we both busy so with art, work, and community engagement that those our actual number one?
And like, my whole relationship I was experiencing Dom drop. And was told I was a duck oh because my ex was experiencing my aftercare not being enough. They are older than me but are still naive and a novice when it comes to relationships. Which is partly due to them growing up in a white community with hella trauma. Part of which was inflicted because their vessel is Black and fat. They also a caretaker so I know in similar ways I now want someone to take care of me, they want and need that.
I’m just a scorpio, I hold grudges. I don’t think I’ll ever not be mad and paranoid about that third eye shit, that sins shit, or that spiritual boundary crossing. Their magical, an Oracle, and are amazing with tarot cards. AND BAD WITH BOUNDARIES. PROTECTION SPELL AROUND ME, BE WELL.
I don’t trust them. Because of what they did. Because of my own past trauma. Because of my guilt and shame.
My boyfriend also validates me eating disorder without co-opting my trauma like my ex did. He relates because, same lol. But he wasn’t giving, I get a pass for triggering you because I struggle too. When my ex flooded my inbox with 20 minutes of voice messages about how they hate their body and implying that explanation remedies their harm. Or at least I should give them grace. I didn’t have capacity to do that. And because of my trauma with my boyfriend and my ex’s sexual tension with they white woman best friend I just heard, I’m too ugly to bag a skinny white girl so I’m with you.
Which others validated. But also was that me projecting?
Anyways I was loved on yesterday and I’m grateful.
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AOT Goes Clubbing (Warriors!)
Part One | Part Two | Request :)
Y'all ready for some chaos?
Reiner:
Reiner is the most uncoordinated drunk you've ever seen. He's just too large. Plus, he has the lowest tolerance of the bunch, despite how big he is. He crashes into EVERYONE on the dance floor and insists that they are all in his way. Really, he's like a toddler that has been unleashed on the playground. He drinks whiskey, flings himself around for ten minutes, and then passes out in a booth somewhere. Armin is the one to find him. He pokes Reiner and asks, "Are you okay?" To which Reiner tosses him aside with one arm and shouts, "I WAS JUST RECHARGING! TIME TO FUCKING DANCE!" Towards the end of the night, Reiner accidentally walks into the girls' bathroom where he meets Sasha. "Hey," he says, "You strike me as someone who's really good at keeping secrets."
Annie:
Annie does NOT smoke. No, sir, she does not. Well... that is until she's on her third drink. After that, Annie is outside the club, asking anyone, "Can I bum a cig?" Naturally, she gets what she wants in an instant, and ends up hanging outside for the rest of the night. It's just so much nicer out there. She doesn't have to dance or look pretty if she doesn't want to. She can just kick her feet up and relax. She loves her nights out! Until Bertholdt stumbles outside, barely coherent, saying, "Reiner just went into the girls' room!" Annie sighs, cracks her knuckles, and says, "Thanks, buddy. Now go away." But right before she heads back inside, she's almost positive she sees a figure scampering across the roof. It must have been her imagination.
Bertholdt:
Berty is the most entertaining drunk, unknowingly and innocently starting shit wherever he goes. Give the guy a break, ya know? He spends all week stressed out of his mind, making sure Reiner doesn't snap and spill a certain secret, so Bertholdt really lets loose on the weekends. He orders the pink and orange drinks because they're fun and always come with fruit on the rim. But since they don't taste strongly of alcohol, he easily consumes eight cocktails. This is when Berty becomes increasingly messy. He can't stop asking probing questions with his big doe eyes. "Eren, why are you so angry all the time?" "Connie, are you bald by choice?" And most frighteningly, "Do you guys dare me to boop Levi's nose? I mean, it's right there! You can't expect to have a nose out in the open like tha-" NO!
Pieck/Porco/Colt:
Pieck slept all day to prepare for the big night out. She wasn't too enthusiastic about going to the club, but Colt was so excited about it, he almost cried. "Booze! Girls! Oh, Pieck, please can we go?" Not that Colt needed her permission to go out, but he definitely needed her permission to go out. Of course, Pieck gives in to the goober and the posse hits the town. Pieck is the one who hovers alluringly at the back wall, one leg kicked up, and a scotch in her hand. She subtly attracts the attention of everyone there. But people are gross and not to be trusted. Pieck can handle herself against drunk idiots, but still, Porco takes it upon himself to act as her bodyguard. This self-appointed job is just Porco deciding who is unfit for Pieck (which is pretty much everyone). And if he deems someone unworthy, he will drunkenly bark at them until they leave.
Zeke:
Zeke doesn't get very drunk at the club. He much prefers to get inappropriately wasted at events that don't call for that kind of behavior. Think funerals or ice skating. At the club, however, Zeke likes to have a drink or two, and then pretend like he's way drunker than he actually is, just to see what he can get away with. For example, he asks Erwin, "May I have this dance?" right in front of Levi, who crushes his glass with his bare hand. Then, Zeke goes to the DJ (who is now Connie) and requests the Glee version of Total Eclipse of the Heart so he can recreate the scene from the show with Levi and Erwin. Later, Zeke finds Colt passed out behind the bar. Thinking it would be hilarious, he drags Colt back onto the main floor, puts a pair of sunglasses on him, and plays Weekend at Bernie's with his rag doll body.
#aot#snk#aot headcanons#snk headcanons#attack on titan#attack on titan headcanons#warriors headcanons#reiner braun#reiner headcanons#annie leonhart#annie headcanons#bertholdt hoover#bertholdt headcanons#pieck finger#pieck headcanons#colt grice#colt headcanons#porco galliard#porco headcanons#zeke jaeger#zeke headcanons
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cursed your name [lty]
—summary: lee taeyong has wanted one thing for the past two years: to be the worldwide light featherweight champion. his up-and-rising career is on its highest point to this day, one step away from being one of the youngest winners of the title, watched and studied by the world with intent. little does he know that success is a lonesome road, filled with envy and betrayal.
owning a casino is already difficult on its own. fights, bets, cards, money, the stench of alcohol following around every step…she knows this is not how her life should’ve turned out to be, but after being passed down her best friend’s casino, the jungle, she does everything in her power to keep the business alive. the dream, even.
the dream of a casino dies down when taeyong makes his way through those doors one night, but another dream starts…and she has to wake up.
—title: cursed your name
—pairing: lee taeyong x reader
—genre: boxer!au ; casino owner!au ; crime!au ; strangers to one-night stands to enemies to friends to lovers!au (yes, that’s a thing)
—type: angst ; fluff ; suggestive ; drama ; humor ; slowburn
—word count: 28,354
—warnings: mentions of death, guns and blood. acts of betrayal on page. none of these actions are morally correct and are only plastered on paper for the sake of storytelling. characters are fabricated in every way. there’s a mystery, kind of, so you can solve that as well.
Lighter off. Lighter on. It says enough about a person when the only source of light of their night comes from igniting a cigarette.
The long stick rests between her fingers, pushing one leg over the other when leaning back against the muddy backdoor of the casino. Her casino. It’s hard to believe that the twinkling lights, bustling people, workers dancing on tables all belong to her now. So, they say, people have to lose it all in order to have one glimpse of success.
Even themselves.
She pushes the black beanie on her head a little bit further down her forehead, puffing out the smoke from her lips before tapping the cigarette a few times. The ashes fall on the floor beside her, near her boots, but she can’t bring herself to care. For once, she wants peace. And maybe, silence comes with the faint background music behind her, and the cars passing by in an alleyway that could probably get her killed if she stood there for too long.
The fact that the casino is in a rich neighborhood doesn’t mean it’s a good one.
Her fingers almost become numb thanks to the coldness, but for once, she can breathe. Perched, tranquil, mixing the vapor of her mouth and the smoke of her cigarette in just one breath. Turns out that casinos are filled with cocky, overconfident people who lose it all and win it all over again. If people ask for the manager in normal establishments, they ask for her when they decide to bet everything and their wife in just one game.
People decide how to destroy their lives, and she’s just the one giving a ceiling to the conclusion of their proper economical lifestyle.
The backdoor swings open, hitting her directly on the back. She can’t even begin to form a sentence about privacy when she’s met by the sight of her right hand. The only man she has ever trusted, one of her closest friends, Tori. If there is loyalty in people, it’s shown in him. Mussy brown hair parted in the middle, a set of somewhat interesting features welcoming her. Wide forehead, somewhat downturned and bored eyes, paired up with his slim, rouge lips and his short, straight nose.
For being in his thirties, he looks good.
“What do you think you’re doing out here?” Tori is always behind her. Checking. Nosing around where he shouldn’t be. Sure, he does it out of worry, can’t let his fingers slip around her hold to keep her in place and make sure that everything runs smoothly. After all, he’s an investor in this place, but a breather wouldn’t go wrong.
She takes a puff from her cigarette, hiding her hands in the pockets of her black, elongated coat. Mixing in the shadows is for the better when running a business like this one. “Running away for a bit. What else would I be doing?”
Tori opens the door wider, his gray suit perfectly fitted around his buff body. The lights of the casino swirl behind him, a worried look on his features. “I don’t know. One of these days, I fear you may actually run away.”
Scoffing, she rolls her eyes. “As if I could.”
“She wouldn’t have wanted you to.”
At the mention of the ghost between them, she presses her lips together, unhooking the rounded sunglasses that rest on the collar of her shirt. “I know.” The memory of her still bleeds deep within her. The woman who took her in. The one that did everything for her, even lure her into a world of betting and losing. She never lost after having her in her life, and that’s as much as she could have ever hoped for. “Need me for anything important, Tori?”
She’s already halfway through the door, her baggy dress pants rubbing against each other as she moves away from the bar at the corner, followed by Tori right behind her. “A—Actually,” He catches up with her, a little bit breathless when he takes the cigarette from between her fingers. “I wanted to have a talk with you.”
Before he could take a drag of her cigarette, she snatches it away from his fingers, stopping on her tracks. “One would think that if you’re driving a Lambo around town, you wouldn’t have to steal my cigs.”
Tori smiles, all crooked teeth and faux innocent ways, looking down at her from his tall, almost enormous height. “Yours are a better brand.”
Truth be told, she has tried the cheapest of brands. Had to at the beginning of her career. Right now, she feels powerful enough to have the thing that will kill her on the long run be, at least, exquisite in shape and style. “And they are mine for a reason.” She tilts her head to the side, pointing at the other end of the casino. “Let’s meet at at my office to see what’s that important thing you need to talk to me about.”
“You’ve got it, boss.”
She will never get used to the title, because one year ago, she wasn’t the boss at all. She was just another worker at The Jungle, perhaps a very conceited one, hanging around the boss a little too often—her truest friend, if she’s honest. Serving drinks, drifting her eyes away from the people she knew were too important to be seen there. Those were the fun times, but then, the owner was gone. Disappeared. Leaving the casino under her watch on a last breath.
Allegra was not meant to be gone this early in her life. In her forties, she was aiming to be the biggest, most well-known casino, and she was on the way there. She took people in, from the streets and from raunchy places, turned them into polished versions of themselves and basked on their loyalty. She was one of them, and some of the other workers were, too. Though, a robbery in her office later and a few stabs to the chest, Allegra was gone.
Left like a kiss on the wind.
Though, the casino was just as outstanding. Conceptualized to be capturing, both in aesthetics and in entertainment. Compared to other casinos, bathed in the typical golden and red, The Jungle was specialized in darker colors and better security. Instead of having women in poles, they danced from cloths on the ceiling, as if they were branches, surrounded by green and brown walls, woodened tables and ignited lights putting in the typicality of a casino. It was a well-thought-out concept, that’s for sure.
The heavy woodened doors of her office are opened once her fingers push down the code to enter. Her office, once Allegra’s, glimmers for its intensity. Dulled forest green walls, glimpses of white, and the most carefully thought-out hiding spots.
It’s a nice business. It doesn’t mean it’s a safe one.
“So, Tori—” Though, she hears someone else waltzing inside, saying their hushed greetings to Tori just as she turns off her cigarette, hitting it against the wood of her desk. “Anything important I should know about?”
Giving someone your back means that they��re one second away from killing you. Out of everyone in The Jungle, Tori is the only one who was rich from the crib. An investor for a reason, and Allegra’s lover for some years before they decided they were better off as business partners. She trusts him, but maybe, it’s second-nature to be wary.
The singer of the casino, Junghoon, stands by his side, a hat over his long, straight black hair, sharp features and bone-structure almost hidden. He’s way smaller than Tori, with an air of arrogance that falls on borderline silly.
“We’ve found him.” Tori whispers, his smile dissipating when he takes a seat in front of her, extending his long legs forward.
“Who’s him?” She asks.
“The man who killed Allegra. We found him.”
One thing she couldn’t defend about Allegra is that she was a little bit too trusty. She could see a man that she was interested in, and it was as though all judgement left her brain. A night on someone’s sheets and with a man between her thighs and she was done for. Intelligence nowhere to be found.
It was clear it would be the cause of her death, but she has to expand her hands on the armrests of her office seat to be able to stand her weight, sitting down as the memories come flashing down. The blood on her hands. The ache of her chest. She lost her sister, though not blood-related, to whatever this man did.
A sharp breath leaves her lips, memories flooding back when she closes her eyes tightly. “H—How do you know?”
Tori is pensive for a few seconds, fixing the black tie around his neck before sighing. “I’ve been looking for a year, boss. You know how close I was to her. How much I loved her…” Tori may have never gotten over Allegra, but it’s very rare to see glimpses of him that aren’t bathed in his business-like judgement. “I talked and talked around until I found him. Well, a group. Of course, the crime couldn’t have been committed by just one person.”
The police had turned their backs on this. Unaware not, but not caring enough about raunchy people of society to be able to help them. Some of their team were good, others not so much, but justice needed to be made regardless.
“A group?”
“They’re well-known. Not for killers, but they are wealthy enough to frequent The Jungle.” Tori spits out, swirling his hand around the air as he explains. “A boxer slept with Allegra the night before her death. Lee Taeyong, I’m sure that’s his name. He’s a newbie with a small group of trainers, publicists, all of the life on his team. Around eight men.”
People of all categories frequent The Jungle, and boxers aren’t the exception, but she’s certain she has heard this name before. Though, she can’t quite put a face on it. “Tori, you can’t be making assumptions out of what people tell you. It could be someone trying to get to him, for all you know—”
He breathes out her name, different from his usual connotations of ‘boss’, and she knows he’s serious when he does so. “…I have a backbone for this. You just have to trust me.”
Silence engulfs them, sparing one glance towards Junghoon, patiently waiting by the door, just as she lets her fingers roam over the stacks of papers over her desk. “And what do you intend to do, Tori?”
This time, he seems to be happy about her choice of words. His face contorts in the sweetest of smiles, but she knows he’s anything but. “…I’m glad you asked, boss. I have it all planned.” The man interlocks his hands together, leaning his weight forward the slightest. “Taeyong will come to The Jungle tomorrow. You know the killer stole money from Allegra, lots of it, and that he stabbed her to death. So, I decided to give him some taste of his medicine.”
Allegra may have been like a sister to her, but there are a hundred steps from that to murder. “Tori, I won’t kill a man. Jesus, what kind of person do you take me for?”
“I know you’re not that kind of person…” He trails, voice deep when he looks down at his hands before his brown eyes connect with hers. “But I am. I’m just asking you to take the money away from him. All his cards. Leave him spotless, and then, I’ll take care of him.”
Gruesome images appear right behind her eyelids. Blood is definitely something she can’t stand, much more knowing she is one of the causes behind it. “I don’t want to.” She stands her ground, crossing one leg over the other and pushing her sunglasses away from her face. “Shit, Tori. This is hard stuff. I don’t want to have someone’s body on me, much more if they’re important.”
Tori scoffs. “He has enough enemies; they’re not going to know it was us.”
“I don’t want to, I said.”
“Listen, I don’t know if we’re on the same page here, but Allegra was practically sliced in half by her killer. She couldn’t even utter words properly when she died, innocently, just because she slept with someone and you decide not to take revenge?” Those words reverberate around her ears, resonating in awful ways, reminding her of that one night where they both found Allegra dead—
God, could it really have been a boxer?
“You have no idea if it’s him—” She argues, the voice of reason in this case.
“Explain the punches. Explain the hook-up. Explain the timing. If I’m not right, then why does everything fit?”
Her lips fall shut, rubbing her face with her palms, burning with the coldness of her fingertips when her index and middle fingertips press to her eyelids. Tori is not half-wrong. Allegra suffered, unattended by the hospital, given no sense of justice…but if this person is a boxer, they must be well-known.
“What do you have in mind?” She questions, but just as Tori smirks, she shakes her head. “Don’t think I’m supporting you, Tori. I just want to know.”
“I’ll be the one killing him. I need to do it. For me. For her.” His words are filled with purpose, eyes darkening. “But I need someone to keep him in a room. I will book a room in a hotel, and you’ll seduce him. I’m not saying that you’ll sleep with him, but it’s even better. I just need you to take his money and leave the room. I’ll enter them.”
“Holy fucking shit.” She whispers to herself, giving a glance towards Junghoon, much too quiet in his position. “I—I don’t think I can be part of it. I can’t stop you, but I’m not a seducer. Why me when there are a handful of great-looking, powerful strippers that could do the trick even better than I do?”
“He’s very collected and controlled by his team. After all, sleeping with strippers and prostitutes would not be nicely seen for an athlete.”
She chuckles at that, standing up from her position to move over to the door. “Okay. Out of my office. I won’t do it—”
“Come on, boss.” This time around, Junghoon’s lightweight voice takes place around the office. “Tori wanted me to help you out. I have some knowledge about the ladies and a pretty little dress may finally get your panties out of its twist and make you loosen up.”
Those words make her raise her eyes. Junghoon is a complete asshole, but she’ll give him and his baritone ways some slack because the people frequenting the casino love him to bits. “And a pretty little turn of your legs out of my office may help you keep your job, asshole.”
Tori’s pristine shoes tap against the tiles as he moves over to her. “It’s them or us.” He says, pointing towards the door. “You don’t know when he will do it again. Women are always killed for the most horrendous of reasons, just for being free. It’s not a sin if you take a sinner away.”
She sighs. “I don’t care if it’s a sin. I’ll go to hell either way. I care that it’s a crime, Tori, and I won’t go to prison.”
“That won’t happen.” He promises, grasping both hands in between his. “I just need your help, that’s all. If anyone will go to prison, which won’t happen, it will be me.” His eyes connect with hers, filled with certainty and honesty. “Please—”
Allegra’s face pops back behind her eyelids. Despair. Loss. Pain. All her life taken away because of what one man decided to do. She opens her eyes then, humming in return.
“I’ll help you.”
###
“Come on, another jab. To the jaw, Taeyong, go higher—”
The plan never was to be a boxer. The plan, indeed, would have been to take over his grandmother’s bakery, stuff his face with chocolate at least once a week, and let time pass with professionalism. Destiny would come to him one day, with some money in his pocket, bring the love of his life over, have a family, own a dog, then have a child and it would continue on until the day of his death. He’d bake for his family, for the neighborhood, too, and never lay a hand on anyone.
His arm extends, boxing gloves rubbing against his bony hands as his eyes concentrate on the target. Sweat accumulates on his hairline, his bleached blonde hair tied on a ponytail behind his back, toned stomach uncovered, loose shorts wrapped around his slim hips as he moves his legs back and forth, keeping some distance before coming for the hit.
Now, he can say he’s skilled, but when he was discovered, it was such chance as luck. Grandma liked for him to take a casket of buns and pastries each afternoon after school to sell them. It helped the business, and he could give out some business cards in the process to help expand. It was the easiest task a fourteen-year-old boy could have. Get on a bus, sell some pastries, go around the neighborhood and come around with clients, orders and money.
It was when someone older, a young man around eighteen or nineteen years old, had tried to steal from him that his eyes had flared with anger. One of the most fulfilling afternoons monetarily almost slipped away from his grasp, had it not been for the piling rage that left him two options. Lose the money that his grandmother desperately needed or man up and fight for it. His fists were uncontrollable, such force coming from self-defense, with a few people having to pull them away in the streets. His eyes blurred with tears at the time, knuckles bathed in blood—from his own body, actually, all he did was break the man’s nose and those who tended his wounds are now part of his team.
Thirty-two wins. Zero loses. Zero ties. Ten knock-outs. Knock-outs are the worse; there is something inherently fearful about having someone drop to the ground thanks to his punches that he lands. It gives more money than the bakery ever would, and his family doesn’t have to work half as harshly as they used to thanks to his success. Well-earned, but not easy at all.
He spent years practicing. Only two years ago did he actually get to debut in the big leagues. With cameras around him, interviews, surprised by how this underground boxer in his teens suddenly became someone of importance. Travelling around the world in order to earn his name.
And now is the time to become light featherweight champion.
Another punch has one of his staff stumbling back, just at the same time that the bell rings. It’s then that he moves to the corner of the gym, inspecting the walls covered in posters of the biggest boxing champions, gulping on water to be able to wash down his tiredness.
From behind him, two people emerge. One shorter, buffer, face filled with wrinkles as he speaks to Taeyong. His trainer, to be exact. The other, much younger, parts his black hair in the middle, always wearing dark clothes and holding an agenda up to his chest. His publicist, if anything.
Soonhwan, his trainer, fixes the ponytail behind his head as he speaks. “Listen, Bruce Lee, start getting confident in your punches or Eiji will knock you on your ass on the first round.” Eiji is the current champion, prepared for eight years, quickened in his movements and filled with endless cockiness. “He’s been talking real talk to the media and we need to shut him up, Taeyong.”
Dongyoung is the one in charge with the media, completely stressed out as he puts his agenda to the side and looks down at his tablet. “He’s spoken?” Taeyong asks, licking his lips after finishing off half of the bottle. Finally, Dongyoung looks up, pushing his bangs away from his forehead.
“Too much, I’d say. I’d put a fist in his mouth if I didn’t know he could break me in half if he wanted to.” Dongyoung speaks out, pointing the tablet towards Taeyong’s face. The article is too long for him to read all at once, but Dongyoung simplifies it for him. “He’s said you opened your butterfly wings and he’s ready to take you down. Something about you just being a lucky guy in the right place at the right time, but no substantial talent behind you and just bullshit over bullshit.” Dongyoung pulls the tablet away before scoffing. “We’ll keep quiet, but the guy is testing me…”
His eyes soften, pushing his lips together when he looks at Dongyoung. “He really said all that?”
Soonhwan lays his hands on his shoulders, moving him from side to side. “You need to toughen up, boy. Eiji is made of steel, both physically and mentally, and I don’t want his words to get to you.”
No matter how many times he physically fights, Taeyong will never get used to it. Call it presumption or something of the like of guilt, but landing punches and raising his fists after doesn’t bring him utmost happiness. Stability? Of course. It pays the bills. Does the trick. It’s what he has prepared for the past handful of years.
“I’ll be fine.” Taeyong leans his head back, bones cracking in the process, staring up at the ceiling. “Just need a breather. And a meal. Haven’t eaten since the morning.”
Dongyoung doesn’t know how to express his concern at most times, writing something down on his agenda as he speaks. “You haven’t been eating your proteins, Taeyong.”
“I’ll have all the steak you give me right about now.”
“How about this, my boys?” Soonhwan doesn’t have children of his own, and by being the oldest of the staff, with a boxing career that has lived to be legendary but not ever-lasting, he has found the two youngest to be like his children. One of his arms ends up around Taeyong’s shoulders, the other engulfing Dongyoung closer to him as he speaks. “I know a pretty good casino at the center of the city. The Jungle. It has pretty women, nice tables, excellent drinks and food. They serve the best sauces I’ve ever tasted in my whole entire life.”
Truth be told, it’s been a while since he has found himself relaxed. Taeyong is about to shake his head when Dongyoung nods from his spot. “I could have a few drinks.”
“But I can’t.” Taeyong conquers. “The fight is in a month.”
Dongyoung shrugs then, a smirk taking over his features. “I’ll drink for you, then.”
“Asshole.”
“Hey, you were the one that became a boxer. Not me.”
“Boys, boys, boys, calm down.” Soonhwan interrupts between the two. “We’ll just have fun. Play some poker. Call it a night early. It’s needed. We’ve been preparing for this fight for months.”
Truth be told, it doesn’t sound so bad. His staff, himself, and a nice bowl of whatever meat he could find, dipped in sauce, up to his lips, as he splays whatever cards are in poker on a table. Perhaps, if he’s lucky, he’ll get some money. If he’s not, he’ll lose some. Not too much, but enough.
A smile pushes itself to his face, pulling away from Soonhwan as he nods. “Okay, okay, we’ll go out.”
“That’s my boy!” He exclaims, patting his hand across his back. “Now finish him. We’re going out tonight.”
###
Drops of sunshine fall on her dress. If this can be considered a dress on her, really. Definitely not her style, the lace on the high collar makes her look polished, molding into her body like a golden second skin. This definitely comes from the closet of someone much more open to being, well, open. One turn to the side on her dancers’ mirror lets her see a glimpse of her ribcage and the side of her chest thanks the opened back and if she doesn’t walk short steps, her dress would definitely ride up her thighs.
Junghoon wasn’t the one to dress her up, and if she doesn’t know if she’s thankful for that. Jinhee, however, had taken it upon herself t turn her otherwise mysterious boss into one of the bombshells seen around The Jungle. Wig put in place, heels making her wobble in place, and the tint of her lips shining brightly under the harsh lights.
Jinhee spots a red wig of her own, her robe falling open when she crosses one leg over the other, half-dressed and ready for her show. “Atta boss. You look sexy.” The word makes her cringe, turning around to see Jinhee’s rounded eyes settled on her.
“Don’t say that word.” She punctuates, shaking her head in the process. “I feel like a clown.”
“Because you’re not used to it. Think we don’t feel like that from time to time? It’s the empowerment from your head that will make you feel like a badass.” Jinhee stands in front of her, straightening her back. “Now, boss, shoulders back, chest up, ass moving, that’s the first set of things to care about when getting someone’s attention,” Tori could have easily picked Jinhee for the work, but no, it had to be her. “But the eyes are the ones that are going to get you out of trouble. Most men don’t think when they see a gorgeous woman with an innocent gaze. They don’t know the difference between heaven and hell, and you’re about to show it to them. Use that to your advantage.”
“Jinhee, this is pointless.” Smacking her hands on each side of her thighs, she rolls her eyes. “I haven’t seduced a man in years.”
“It’s never too late to start.”
“He’s a boxer. Men like him get everyone they want.”
“So?” Jinhee asks, crossing her arms across her chest. “Make sure that who he wants is you. Prettiness is all over the world, but it’s the core of a person that make them stand out.”
She turns around, hands splaying on the vanity as she sees the informative picture Tori had given her. Taeyong has his gloved hands lifted in the air, curling his slim yet toned arms after a victory. His hair was red at the time, but she was informed he had dyed it to blonde, tied behind his head as a smile spreads across his handsome features. His eyes don’t have the look most people in his world have, filled with anger and pride. Somehow, he seems awestruck, like he can’t quite believe he is there.
The past few hours, she has been killing her mind with thoughts. All that can run through her head is the happiness of his smile, the people cheering for him in that picture, and the revenge that has overcome Tori’s senses. It doesn’t feel right. Seducing him isn’t what she would have imagined for the night, but it’s what Tori wants…
It’s what Allegra deserves for what he, supposedly, did to her.
“Jinhee, give me a minute.” She takes the photo in between her hands, folding it in place before sighing. “I have to get something in my office.”
“Okay, but be careful with those heels. The dress is Versace, the shoes are Valentino’s—”
“Nothing will happen to the heels. Don’t worry.”
Her steps are steady when getting out into The Jungle. As far as she knows, Taeyong is nowhere in sight as she moves towards her office, pushing down the code to have the doors opening.
The problem is…she can’t kill him. Steal what he had stolen from Allegra? Maybe, but she can’t help Tori kill the man when she is not certain if his sources are correct. Tori hangs around some people that she doesn’t entirely trust. Bad to the core. They could be lying because of any hatred they could hold against Taeyong.
And sure, she could be wrong. Taeyong may have been the culprit of Allegra’s death, but she’d rather die knowing that she saved a life than live with the thought of murdering someone innocent.
Opening the drawers, she sees the pistol Tori keeps there. It’s for safety measures, he says, but she never touches it. It belongs to him, used for his own protection, but she’d rather not have her fingerprints all over it. Taking it in between her hands and with some isopropyl alcohol by her side, she unloads it, making sure to take all the bullets there and place them inside her strongbox.
When she cleans the gun and puts it back in place, she sighs. He better not notice it.
With that, she scavenges into the casino once again, careful steps trying to look a little bit too confident. Not failing in the process, luckily.
###
“Shit.”
Through his yellow sunglasses, Taeyong manages to cover the glimpse of comedy that begs to seep through his voice. Dongyoung splays his money on the poker table as if it was his flag, crossing his arms over his chest like a kid without his toy. Truth be told, Taeyong is, also, awful at this game, but he doesn’t get petty when he has to give his money to the winner of the game.
The Jungle is somewhere new for him, but Dongyoung has been here before. An outcast, through and through, with the way he dressed himself in a silk beige suit from head to toe, bringing a smile up to his face.
“Dressed like a winner, living like a loser?”
The man in question digs his elbow on Taeyong’s ribcage, stealing a gasp away from him, combined with laughter. “Shut the fuck up. You’re not that good either.”
“I know.” Taeyong says, lifting his bottle of water up to his lips, maintaining his health even through a night with his team. His trainer is somewhere on another table, but he can’t bring himself to keep his gaze away from the game as they divide the cards in between the players. “But I accept it, Dongyoung. I suck at this game. You should, too—”
“I don’t suck at this game.” Dongyoung, always trying to the highest reach, lets the words cling between his teeth as he speaks. “I’m just out of practice.”
Shrugging, Taeyong lets him live his dream. “Whatever you say. Whatever you say…”
For one moment, he lets himself get involved in the movement of the cards, but instead, the clicking of heels captures his attention. It’s the consuming curiousness that overtakes him that makes his attention flee away. If anything, he should be used to it. There are strippers at The Jungle, and of course, they’re going to be using heels in the process, but once he leans back on his chair, his leather jacket rubbing against the fabric, he sees a pair of swinging hips he can’t take his eyes away from.
He has a thing for untainted presences, like an angel in between a sea of sinners. It’s better, after all, when having someone who knows their strength but doesn’t quite show it, to correlate with them, as well. Surprising, it is, and he knows it’s the case with her. Eyes gleaming in seriousness as she moves through the seas of people and though she’s a bit awkward with her heels and she doesn’t walk with as much confidence as she should when sporting a body like that, he’s staring.
He bites down on his lip, raising his eyebrow when he sees her move directly towards him. Dongyoung chuckles by his side, low and breathy, when he nudges his side. “You always get the good ones.”
Though, Taeyong breaks his gaze away from hers once she gives him a smile. In reality, his ears burn in bright red shades, concealed in the darkened stance of The Jungle. “What are you talking about?”
“She’s practically eating you with her eyes.” Dongyoung finalizes.
“Yeah, so?” Taeyong continues, conversation not over, even when he hears her move closer. That ‘tip-tap’ of her heels may become his newest favorite tempo. “I’m not looking for anything.”
“Well, she’s looking at you. Do with that what you will.” Taeyong knows the difference between wrong and right, but he can’t tell why his body practically paralyzes at the alluring scent by his side. When his face turns around, his cards underneath his fingers, now divided between the group, he sees her from up-close. Delicious lips, mascara-coated eyelashes framing her eyes perfectly, windows to a soul short from enigmatic. It’s fucking hypnotizing.
“Saw you lose from over there.” Her fingers point towards one of the tables, not too far away. Soonhwan was there, that’s all he knows. “You’re not too good at poker, aren’t you?”
“Not good with cards at all.” Taeyong confesses, licking his lips when he lifts up his cards and inspects them with a frown on his features. He wants to look prepared, but he has no idea what they mean. “I don’t know what they mean.”
“Oh,” She breathes out, leaning over his shoulder to look at the cards. “You’re fucked.”
The way she says those words has Taeyong leaning back against her touch. He has an idea what that could mean for him, and God, if he has to be fucked— “What? Why?”
Their voices are low, and her breath fans on his earlobe, lighting the little hairs on his nape on fire when she fiddles with the edge of the card. “A 2-7 offsuit. Worst hand at poker. Don’t go too high on your bets.” Her chin juts towards one of the men in front of him. “He’s as bad as you are, so don’t you worry.”
“Boss!” One of the men by the table speaks, tapping his cigarette-holder against his finger to let the ashes fall on his dark suit. The man is over his forties, and the whine on his tone is somewhat annoying. “What are you doing helping that little boy out?”
“I’m teaching him, Hino. He doesn’t know a thing.”
The man speaks through his crooked teeth. Better quit smoking now. “Then, he should’ve thought about that before ruining my game of poker.” His voice slurs, raided by nicotine, husky and raspy to the point he finds himself lost in some of the syllables he says.
Instead, she rests her arm on the backseat of his chair. “My place, my rules, my game. Sorry, Hino.”
He calls out what seems to be her name, and Taeyong turns his head around to look at her before this could escalate any further. “Don’t worry,” He replies, brown eyes inspecting her features. “I’ll get out of the game, if that is the case. I don’t want to bother anyone.”
Just as he stands up, splaying his already terrible hand at poker on the table, Hino wants to say something else. “He just ruined the game—”
“Calm down, Hino. He’s new to this.” Though, she follows after his steps, getting away from the seat and standing by his side. “Take a breather. I’ll pay whatever he owed in this game, and that’s it. Just…relax.”
What is it with this woman?
There is something so inherently seductive and attractive about her. Boss, that means that she has a position here…maybe, she owns the whole place.
Hino shuts his mouth, enough to have the woman smiling, but that sets him off. “You put on a dress and you change entirely.”
Taeyong can’t imagine her without a dress. Or, yeah, he can—but those legs are exquisite enough to worship for the rest of his life. “Happens.” Is the entire excuse she has, softly wrapping her arm around Taeyong’s arm when she says: “Want me to invite you a drink, player?”
For some reason, Taeyong is starting to believe she is the player here. Still, he loves it. “Sure, let’s go.”
###
“So, you own this place?”
Call it curiousness or his fidgety persona, but Taeyong’s fingertips trace the outline of his drink as he asks the big questions about her. One of her legs is crossed over the other, seated by his side on the bar counter, with sprinkles of the sugar in her drink scattered across her lip-gloss.
Now, Taeyong knows a lot about pretty women. They are everywhere, around him, talking to him, falling for the boxer he is. They never once stop and think that he is more than a few good punches. So far, she hasn’t spoken about that—about him. She asked questions, taught him the basics of poker, answered to his every word until silence overcame them.
She chuckles, nodding to his words. “I do.” Leaning on the backrest of the stool, she rolls her eyes slightly. “I run this place to the best of my abilities.”
Taeyong sips on his drink, unaware as to why he had never come here before. Soonhwan better wrap him up some more nights for going out. “I imagine you’re really good.”
“I manage.” She shrugs, turning to look at him with her chin resting on her palm. “It’s not that I’m particularly good at it, but hey…I make everyone believe I have everything together.” Her words are coated in the sincerest of manners, sighing deeply when she plops her hand on her drink, asking another one from the bartender who already knows what she wants. “…That’s what you want to do when you’re playing poker, Taeyong. Make everyone believe you have it together, even if you don’t.”
Just what the fuck is going on with him? He questions himself. One of the strippers dangles from the sky, dancing to her heart’s content, earning howls and whistles from men that definitely include people from his staff. Money rains from the sky and falls pathetically on the flooring, but his eyes are trained on hers, laughing along to her words.
Truth is—Taeyong sees beauty, but he never sees the beauty that urges him to get to know more about someone. If he is lucky, he gets a pretty model by his side, a singer that he dates for two months and then, the distance becomes unbearable. In most occasions, he is too busy to date. A kiss to a not-so-close friend to pass time. A smile at a socialite to spend the night. It has come down to this…to watching faces blend and personalities dissipate into nothing. They fade to black, irrelevant inside his brain.
“And how exactly do I do that?” Taeyong questions, turning around on the stool until his legs are prodding against the side of her thighs. She repeats his actions, slightly parting her legs to interlock it with his, and it takes all the will inside of him not to have his eyes linger on the uncovered skin.
Her finger touches his chin, softly, delicately—for someone who rules this place, she is as tranquil as it can get. Mysterious and mellow, Taeyong can’t quite put his finger around the paradigm of her. “It’s in the eyes, Yong.” The nickname has him raising his eyebrows, a smile splaying over his features. “You have pretty eyes. Use them to your favor.”
He leans forward then, licking his lips to bite down on his bottom one. “And how exactly do I do that?” Breaths mingle when he speaks, stench bathed in alcohol, and though he’s nowhere near tipsy, he’s hypnotized by her beauty. So unlike whatever he has seen in this world of money and fame.
“Look in my eyes.” Her fingers point at her own, and Taeyong nods. He doesn’t have to be asked twice. “What do you see?”
His eyes rake down her features after capturing her gaze for a few seconds. “That you’re gorgeous.”
Laughter bubbles from her at that moment, the changing lights of the casino casting over her face. The music has gotten louder, bass boosted, but even if his biggest celebrity crush had taken her clothes off right there and then, in The Jungle, he wouldn’t have looked away from her. “No, you have to think that you see yourself. Eyes are not windows to the soul. They are mirrors, Taeyong.” She explains, one hand splaying on top of his, rested on his thigh, when she leans forward to keep their eyes connected. One single movement and their lips would touch. “When you’re playing poker, or when you want to lie to someone, you only have to think that you’re looking at yourself. Like, when you’re practicing for a big speech and you practice in front of the mirror to see the motions and get a grasp of what you want to say.”
Taeyong hums, concentrating on his reflection in her pupils. Dilated. God, she’ll be the death of him. “And then?”
“Don’t smile.” Her hand reaches for his cheeks, pulling down the smile before sighing. “Twinkling eyes are okay; your eyes are just like that…but you have to be serious and conniving. Scheme, Taeyong. The body follows what your mind says.”
“Okay.” He pulls his lips down, earning laughter from her.
“You look like you’re sad.”
“I’m just trying not to laugh.”
Swatting her hand against his shoulder, softly, she speaks up: “I’ll take it.” Soon, she continues explaining. “After you are serious, with all your scheming ways going on, you look at the people around the table. Look for giveaways of what they are feeling.”
Taeyong shudders when her breath ghosts against his lips. Never has he wanted to kiss anyone with this fervor, as if running a fever just by her mere lack of touch. “I can tell something.”
“What do you mean?” His eyes trail down to her lips, desiring to lick the sugar off the skin.
“Your pupils got big.” He feels dumb saying it out loud, but he reconnects his gaze with hers. “Doesn’t that mean that you’re into me?”
Tilting her head to the side, the diamonds around her neck glisten. Money, that seems to match her smile. “I have eyes, Yong.” She answers. “…But you’re not too far behind, you know?”
A smile takes over his features once again. “Oh, I know what I want. You don’t have to worry about that.”
Rolling her tongue with each word, she spits out: “What or who?”
If he had to plead, he would. Never had he felt this immense connection with somebody—it has been a while, that’s for sure. It’s not complicated; a night with her and he’ll be off the hook, sedating his thirst for curiousness. His trainer once told him his ambition will be the death of him, but why not reach for the stars when he’s already in a plane? “You. Goddamn it, it’s you.”
“You want me?” She questions, resting her hands on his waist, only to have Taeyong wrapping his digits around her nape.
“Thought I made it clear.”
“I’m good at reading signs…” She trails. “But there’s nothing as good as speech, Yong.”
His mind is clouded and if she asked him to, right at that moment, he would give her everything he has ever gotten. “I want to kiss you.”
“And then?”
“Wherever you want to take it.” Taeyong instructs, playing with the small hairs on the back of her neck.
“I know a hotel we can go to, if that is what you’re implying.”
The forest walls engulf all rational thoughts away from him, as if his soul was sucked out of his body and exchanged for a man starved. Taeyong leans forward, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss, though slow, meticulous, wanting to taste every portion of her soul. She parts her lips soon enough, a small groan captured in the back of her throat when she trails to the edge of her seat and curves her back to mold into him.
No one has ever fit him better.
Maybe, Taeyong should have thought with a clearer head, should have not told Dongyoung he’d be going to a hotel with someone on the way out of the casino, should have not gotten in a that damned SUV Soonhwan insisted on having a chauffeur using to drive him around, as he scattered kisses down her neck, learning to trail after her sighs and noises. But he did, and he did it with glee, needing a fucking second of relaxation and away from the boxing world.
And when he looks into her eyes, he doesn’t see himself, but he sees a reflection…
Desire.
###
Somehow, it feels as though Taeyong adores everything around his world. He thanks the sun for coming up in the morning, loves the stars that scatter across the sky when the night falls down, and of course, the way he looks at her, as if she is a goddess taken straight out from his fantasies. And she isn’t.
God, she is not one bit of it.
Getting distracted by him is easy, legs splayed underneath her weight, with his jacket and shirt disregarded somewhere in the hotel room, warm skin melding against hers when she presses her lips to his. Sympathizing with him is easy, much more when his fingers seem to know exactly where to press and trail after. He may look innocent, but he’s not one bit of it.
She gets lost in it, loves the way his eyes glimmer when she pulls away from him, playing with the straps of her dress and tugging them down the slightest, scattering kisses along her shoulders and the only thing she can hear is the voice inside her head. Sure, she has saved him—taken the bullets away from the gun that Tori was going to use against him, but there is always a possibility…
And shit, she has to steal from him.
She closes her eyes tightly, only opening them again when Taeyong softly searches for her lips, pecking them once before asking, in the softest of tones. “You don’t mind if I take off your dress, do you?”
Laughter comes naturally when around him, and though she is not herself in this dress, she can’t deny that Taeyong has won her interest over with just his speech. So polite, so tranquil, so interesting and caring in every way. She shrugs her shoulders then, spreading her fingers on his slim yet toned chest, before saying:
“I’m on your lap in some hotel, and I’m halfway through taking off your pants…isn’t that permission?”
“It’s not.” Taeyong says. “I will only do what you tell me to do, beautiful.”
She’s a piece of shit. She’ll go to hell for this, but she’ll have a good time before everything falls down.
Now she knows the exact reason why Allegra had spent the night with him before dying.
A whine lingers on the back of her throat, nodding. “Take it off, Yong.”
###
For her, life was chaos. Clashing of memories that come down to conclusions she is never too happy with. It’s running and never reaching the end-line, or having someone stick a leg out just to see her falling on the way there. It’s definitely not peacefulness, and not spending the last two hours just enjoying Taeyong’s embrace around her, unable to fall asleep knowing what she has to do.
The first strike was when she looked past her reflection in his eyes, that is what brought the guilt down on her. Then, it was the way he treated her—not as if she was made of paper, but as if he wanted her to enjoy herself as much as she could. To make it unforgettable and loving, even if it didn’t mean much. No one had ever taken the time with her, not even the people she dated in the past, let alone her lack of lovers in the past few years.
One of his arms is over his abdomen, the other softly wrapped around her shoulders. His hair is done a mess, all thanks to her, the strands falling over his closed eyes, lips half parted, nose letting out the softest of snores, barely audible. She smells like the bath they had taken together, and she hates it. Despises the fact that she doesn’t want to pull away from him when she lifts her gaze to look at him.
Lips reddened, soul tainted, and on the verge of being robbed, Taeyong doesn’t look like the type of man that killed Allegra…but Tori is so certain. Tori was there throughout her years with Allegra, and he had always treated her like a little sister. He wouldn’t lie to her, no matter how dangerous he could get.
Maybe, Taeyong was one of those dangerous, beautiful threats.
And as always, she can’t trust anyone.
She stands up then, careful not to awake him, when she tugs at the dress scattered on the flooring and her underwear, putting them on in the blink of an eye before grasping Taeyong’s pants and jacket in between her fingers, rummaging through his pockets until she finds his wallet. The clothing drapes on the floor once again, lurking through the leather of the wallet until she finds them.
Three black cards and a platinum card.
She leaves him the platinum card, taking the three black cards as payment for what he did to Allegra. He may not die, but he also won’t have a nice time after this.
So, what is stopping her when she is by the door, looking over her shoulder to see Taeyong splayed in the dark, an arm still extended as if waiting for her to linger on his side. She feels like shit, but it’s what she has to do. She felt even worse when Allegra died, and that was her only friend dying right in her office. The office she frequents every single day, on top of that.
Sucking in a breath, she opens the door, cancelling all thoughts of staying there and getting to know him. Taeyong is not a good person, that’s for sure. If the only person she has left to trust tells her he is the bad guy, it’s because he is. But why is it so hard to believe?
She saved his life. The least she can do is get his money, right?
Her head is thumping by the time she gets out of the door, three black cards richer with her heart in her sleeve. Life was never meant to be easy.
###
Fingers frozen after mixing drinks endlessly, her back rested against the harsh walls of her new workplace, The Jungle. Her head lulled to the side, trying to keep herself awake after her workhours, wishing for the sun to rise so she wouldn’t have an excuse to fall asleep, but it was four in the morning. Forever was more of what those two hours left felt like.
Truth was, it was all her fault. She would not have to sleep near the back door of this expensive casino had she not trusted people too easily. Her boyfriend, fuck, she had loved that man to bits—promised him the world and back. Daniel swore back and forth that they were going to have a future together, that they would get out of their little neighborhood and reach for the sky.
As it turned out, just as they had moved in together, he reached for her bank account and took all the money she had left. The money she had earned with hard work, while he scratched his balls around the apartment. The one she lost two months after, and the one she couldn’t afford to get back.
Well, she was on the way there. She had only worked here for a week, and if she ignored the cold, sleeping on the backdoor was not so bad. Daniel could go live a somewhat good lifestyle, but she would get up again one day. She just had to wait for her first paycheck and stay in a motel—
The door opened then, almost knocking her over, but awakening her successfully. She moved to the side, aware of how dangerous it was to be out in the open like this—then again, what other option did she have? It was either this or sleeping in a box on the streets.
Much to her distaste, it was the boss. Allegra, with the vibrato in her voice and the relaxation in her features. Her lips were plush, face enigmatic, hair too short to be grasped. She always wore the tallest heels she had seen, dressed to perfection from head to toe, ready to bite the night and make it her own.
“Oh, darling,” Allegra said, fingers pointing at the corner of the casino’s back-place. As it turned out, she saw a little glimmering light there, making her frown deeply. Shit, that was a camera. “When I was checking around for robbers, I didn’t expect to see my newest bartender sleeping on the streets.”
“I—I’m so sorry, miss.” She spoke, voice youthful, lowering her head to look at her dirtied hands. Shit, the dust on the concrete must have stained her skin. “It won’t happen again…”
“Why?”
She lifted her head then, looking at Allegra. “Why what?”
“Why do you sleep here?”
Embarrassment bathed over her features, heat taking over them when she looked into the woman’s eyes. Successful, and perhaps on the way to kicking her out of there. “…I have nowhere else to go. I got kicked out of my apartment.”
With that, Allegra’s features softened even more, if that was even possible. She kneeled in front of her, extending her hand to wave it in front of her, as if trying to catch her. “Then, you’re coming with me.”
She gasped, choking a bit on her saliva. “Excuse me?”
“I’m not letting someone live in the streets, much less if it’s a woman we’re talking about.” Allegra moved her hand, as if to catch her attention any further, but she clung onto herself. This was too much of an issue.
“You don’t have to, miss—”
“Allegra.” She corrected, quirking one of her eyebrows. “And I want to.” With that, her fingers extended towards her, waving them to calling her over.
“I don’t want to be a bother—”
This was what the world taught her. She never could ask her family for help, for they were the first ones to tell her not to get involved with Daniel, her high school love, the man that was supposed to make her feel like they were at the top of the world, but only managed to bring her down. She would never forgive him for taking away everything she ever had, that was for sure.
Allegra sighed, giving lessons without knowing, like she always did. “It is not a bad thing to trust people, darling. I know you’re scared now, but the magic of life comes from trusting people and letting yourself feel. There are enemies everywhere, but out of all badness, there will be a glimmer of good.”
The moment she wrapped her fingers around Allegra’s hand was when their friendship started, and what a shame, it was, that her singular advice—to trust people just to find the good ones in between the bad—was the solemn thing that got her killed.
###
Taeyong awakens to constant clicking, a string of curse words in a manly voice, and in an empty bed.
Brown eyes open to see an unknown man standing next to his bed. He’s at gunpoint, with a pistol directly pointed at his face that he manages to run away from. The blankets cover his naked body when he stands up from the bed, a scream leaving his lips when he studies the expression of the man in front of him. Much to his confusion, however, the killer continuously pulls the trigger only to come up with a clicking noise. No bullets coming out, definitely not a bang against his head because he would have died already…
“What the fuck?!” Taeyong asks, heart picking up in a rhythm he can’t control. The killer has mussy hair and a suit, perched to be a man of wealth, but he doesn’t recognize him one bit. Even so, he knows his intentions. “W—Who are you and how did you get inside?”
The man in question lets the gun fall to the side of his body, extending his palms on each side of his head in surrender, well-lifted with his elbows crooked. “Easy…easy…”
“I asked you some questions. Give them an answer because you definitely don’t want to see me angry.” Now that the gun is down, Taeyong is ready to defend himself if necessary. He wraps the white blanket fully around his hips, trying to—at least—keep himself cladded in this situation. “Who are you?”
The killer calls out her name. The woman he had slept with last night comes in full view at that moment, void of her presence in this room. His heart thumps mercilessly against his chest, burning his ears, rubbing at his lungs and distinguishing his breathing. Taeyong can’t control herself.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He’s done playing the good guy, stepping towards his clothing and putting them on now that he knows there is not a loaded gun pressed to him. His back is not turned towards this man, however.
The coward keeps his hands up in the air, frowning at his words. “Ah, she was the one that hired me.” Those words don’t settle well in his stomach. He was one step away from death just because of the person he connected with just mere hours ago? His stomach churns at the idea. “Check your wallet and you’ll see that she stole from you. She does that to everyone, man. It’s what she does. How did you think she got that casino going?”
The rapidness of the man’s voice speaks of fear, enough to have Taeyong lifting his butt after putting on his pants to rummage through his wallet. The leather rubs against his fingertips, and he stops for a second. There is no way in hell that she had hired someone to kill him. She could have done so herself, if that is what she wanted. Besides, she didn’t seem like the type—
He opens the wallet. Three of his cards are missing, only his platinum one left.
He had been lied to. Scammed. Robbed. Almost killed, had it not been for the lack of bullets.
“P—Please, don’t call the police.” The hitman—and Taeyong is guessing he is that—says with his hands up in the air, moving towards the door. “I’ll tell you where she is, really. Exactly where you can find her right now and you can take the police there but please…please…don’t…”
The pathetic tone in his voice has Taeyong erasing all thoughts of anger, but he exchanges it for betrayal. He bites the inside of his cheek, putting on his shirt as he speaks to the man. “Get out of my face before I smack some sense into you. You just tried to kill me and expect me to forgive you?”
“She was the one who did it. I—I…I couldn’t bring myself to do it.” The man is much older than him, but the way his eyes glisten, like a kicked animal, makes him lose all trust he did not even have on him.
But what does he know? He was the one who trusted a complete stranger last night and almost got robbed and killed.
He pushes his wallet inside his pocket, speaking lowly. “Where is she?”
“In her office at The Jungle. I can tell you the code if you want.”
Taeyong scoffs. “No, you will tell me the code. I need to get her in jail.” He can’t believe that their connection had completely subsided to this. Even worse, that he trusted someone so easily and now, he was on the verge of dying.
Why would she want to kill him for, either way? Fame, success, money? She already had that!
Bad people roam through the air like mosquitoes, that’s for sure.
“One-two-seven-zero-five.” The killer spits out, only to have Taeyong nodding.
“Okay. Anything else I should know?”
“Don’t tell her you saw me.” He says, and Taeyong rolls his eyes, moving towards the door with purpose.
She better start thinking about having fun behind bars, because he is not going to get played with that way. His heart aches, eyes battling tears of betrayal after just trusting someone. Well, there is a reason as to why Soonhwan told him not to trust one-night stands, but he would have never expected this to happen to him.
He needs to make justice out of this, that’s all he knows.
###
Peace. Quiet. Loneliness. The Jungle is empty, void of any costumers, strippers or bartenders. Everyone is off to their houses, just like peace has left her long ago.
It’s been hours, goddamn it, hours since she had left Taeyong in that hotel room, and her mind couldn’t stop whirling like a ceiling fan. All she can think about is the fact that at seven in the morning, exact, Tori would go to his room, try to shoot him, and find the pistol void of bullets. If she’s lucky, he would not have one of his own. She’s almost certain that he hasn’t, because this is Tori she is talking about. He relies on her like a child on their mother.
But still, she can’t bring herself to feel any less guilty. Besides, the pieces didn’t quite match. Taeyong had said last night, in between their introductions and it could very well be a lie, that it was his first time there. Truth was, it felt honest. He would have stepped back had he managed to have a thing with Allegra, much more after Hino outed the most important factor about her personality—that she was, indeed, the boss in The Jungle.
Any normal person with at least two fingers of forehead would have ran out of there. Sleeping with someone, who was possibly close friends with someone he apparently killed, is not the best route to take.
Tori wants her to believe Taeyong did it. Taeyong, who had been sweet, tranquil, nice enough to hold her hand after sex, clean her up if she will, treat her like a pillow princess after everything was over—
The cards glisten when she takes a seat on the center of the casino. All lights are turned off, the shadows making the black cards mock her. A thief, she would have never thought she’d become that.
Truth is…she knows what kind of people Tori and Allegra are. Or was, in Allegra’s case. That’s why Allegra opened her arms up to her—because she knew what it was like to end up in the streets. Both from wealthy families but with dirtied hands, they had done the impossible to withstand the titles behind their names. Their nicknames, even, she doesn’t think she has called them by their real names—ever. They had businesses to withhold, families to take care of, and contracts to keep.
Being good in this world is so rhetorical, even metaphorical. Rules are there, but sometimes, we dare judge them according to the people around us. Call her a dog biting her owner’s hand, but Allegra was at risk of getting killed. If someone like her, just some simplistic friend that ended up as the owner of a casino, has to keep enemies close in order to get things done, then she can’t imagine what it was like for Allegra.
It’s not justified…what they did to her, it will never stop hurting, but it makes sense. It’s what happens when people when involved with crime, even more if it’s with those who have enough power to erase all trails of their injustice.
The doors of the casino open, enough to have her standing up from the table. Shit, she had forgotten to close those. She was about to, but she had stayed talking to one of the strippers, losing time only to, casually, get lost in her own thoughts after. It should be one of the workers, forgetful of an object, but it’s nine in the morning and who he sees takes her off guard.
Wearing the same clothes as last night, Taeyong has never looked so different. All rays of sunshine in his smiles and his eyes are gone. Void of that, he frowns deeply, letting the heavy door close behind him when he runs his fingers through his blonde hair and spits out the ungodliest lie.
“You tried to kill me.”
In reality, she stole from him, like the poor little thief she never was. There is nothing better than revenge, she had once heard, but this is horrid. She knows, in this case, that she was the one that fucked everything up. Nothing about the puzzle Tori had created made sense.
She swallows thickly, extending her hand once he is in front of her, though far away to keep meters of distance. Different from how they were last night. It’s time to cut the bullshit. “Here are your cards.” She whispers, voice hoarse. “I didn’t intend on killing you. I was supposed to just steal from you—”
Taeyong scoffs, snatching the cards away from her with a tight grip, hand smacking against his side from the force. “I got lucky, you know? Something in destiny switched and the bullets in the pistol were not there, but I could have fucking died and just because you wanted to steal from me?” He spits out the words as if treating with a gold-digger. She doesn’t judge the player or the game, but she has never been like that. Dated an asshole in her life, decided not to do it again, not even for money.
Though, why would he think that? She obviously doesn’t need the money now.
She frowns, shaking her head. “I stole from you because of what I have heard about you, Taeyong.” It’s time to uncover the truth, for even in his haunt for reality, Taeyong had fallen far behind. “I have enough money to have black and platinum cards of my own. I’m not some prostitute.”
His brown eyes don’t show her image, she has stopped mirroring herself when looking at him. She sees pain. Clear as day. The kind of look that is given to a man when everything he believed in is suddenly changed. “But you are a murderer. You didn’t even have enough braveness to do it yourself—”
“Where exactly did you get all of this from?” She asks, teeth clattering against each other when she tries to connect the dots of what Taeyong envisions. “Taeyong, I stole from you, and sure, I knew someone was planning on killing you…I…I was supposed to take you there so you were murdered, but I didn’t have the heart—”
He widens his eyes, running his hands through his hair once again. “Shit, am I supposed to feel better about that?”
“I’m not a murderer! I wasn’t the one that had the idea. All I did was take the bullets out so no one would kill you, and I wouldn’t lose the trust of the only person I have left!” Taeyong must have gotten it all wrong, and she doesn’t know why her breathing picks up the way it does. She knows she’ll go to hell, maybe because she acknowledges things like this happen in her casino all the time, but it’s the price she has to pay for the life that was crafted for her.
What wouldn’t have she given to live a happy life with Daniel, perhaps get married on the long run, get a job that was proper and stay on the downlow until the day of her death?
But he robbed from her, and now she is in his position.
“What would have happened if he got some bullets from someone else? If he had noticed before—?”
“He wouldn’t have, Taeyong.”
“You don’t know that!” His voice raises, getting closer to her with fire radiating from within. For one second, he breathes in and out, trying to calm himself down until his voice lulls to a lonesome blues. “…He could have killed me and you would have to live with that.”
She shakes her head, pressing her lips together when she looks to the side. “Well, the man that tried to kill you was the one that schemed it all.” Now, she doesn’t know why she isn’t protecting Tori, but it’s the lies that obvious scatter behind this mess that makes her say the truth. For once, she wants to riot out the reality inside of her. “Stop pointing fingers because I am not a murderer or a robber. I did it because—”
“I should feel grateful, shouldn’t I?” Taeyong asks, voice low. “I have to get on my knees and thank you because you took some bullets out. What did I do to deserve being robbed and threatened, almost murdered for fuck’s sake—?”
“He said—”
“He said, he said, he said! What did you think out of all this?” Taeyong questions, more knowledgeable than she’ll ever be. “You are old enough to have judgement, to know between wrong and right, to make decisions for yourself and let me tell you, with the sincerest heart, that your decision was wrong.”
She closes her eyes tightly, breathing through her nose when the image of Allegra pops inside her head. She died in her arms, how was she supposed to feel? “I was just trusting the people that I knew, Taeyong. I—It was wrong, I can accept that. I’m not saying it wasn’t. I just thought it was revenge for something I got told.”
“It’s not an excuse.”
“I’m not trying to find excuses.” She says. “The man you met, Tori, told me you killed my friend, Allegra. She was stabbed in her office by a man she saw that night. They robbed her of everything she had on her, made her seem…poor and reckless. They practically ripped her in half.” Her stomach churns at the image, bringing one hand up her mouth to stop the sensation of vomiting. “I’m not asking for mercy,” She opens her eyes, looking at him, truth spat out. “Or forgiveness, Taeyong. I’ve had enough bullshit in my life to know I don’t deserve either…but she didn’t deserve what she got done, either. I lost the only person who was there for me when I was at my lowest, in the most horrid of ways, and all I wanted was justice.” Shrugging, she sighs. “What a shame that justice for people in my side of the world can’t be through the police. They would put her as some whore who deserved what she had for enjoying casual sex, and I won’t have anyone talking shit about her, you hear me?”
Taeyong remains silent for a few seconds, taking in everything she said before placing his cards inside his pocket. “I didn’t know whoever you are talking about. I, fuck, I would never kill someone.”
She huffs. “That makes two of us.”
“That man…Tori,” Taeyong speaks the name out, testing it in his tongue. “He said you were the one that hired him to kill me.”
Those words paralyze her. No. It can’t be. Tori had treated her as part of his family, there is no way in hell he would ever— “He has been investigating for years. He was the one that said you were the last man Allegra saw—”
“How many years ago?” Taeyong asks, and just as she’s about to open her lips, he says: “Not that I know any Allegra, and I may have one-night stands from time to time, but I know one thing…and that’s that I learn the names of the women I’m with. I have never slept or dated with a woman named Allegra.”
And it’s an odd probability that she actually used her real name with him. Her name was Allegra, as if her past never existed, and she knew the reason why she would never follow after her past, either. That’s why they connected as friends.
“Almost two years ago.”
“I was dating a model two years ago. Kind of public, if you ask me. You can find the pictures online.” Taeyong replies, as if it’s that fucking common to date a model. His arms cross over his chest, licking the inside of his cheek. “So…you didn’t try to kill me?”
“Tori was the one with the idea.” She replies, head filled with thoughts. “…And he was the one that told you I wanted to kill you?”
“Yes.”
Tori is up to something.
The man that she trusts the most has stabbed her in the back.
Just as she’s about to say something else, the sound of the door opening captures her attention. This time, the person opening it doesn’t take the time to not be audible. They barge in, showcasing their buff body, as a woman points a rifle directly at Taeyong’s head.
Something is so wrong about this.
Before she knows it, she lowers Taeyong to the ground, the gunshot ringing through their ear drums when his eyes widen.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, not again—”
“I need you to trust me, okay?” She speaks, rather quickly, standing up as she places Taeyong right in front of her, taking the unused gun in her coat out to aimlessly throw some bullets. Truth is, she doesn’t use a gun often, but Jinhee reassures that she needs to. If strippers need them, so does the owner of this entire place.
“Where do we—?”
Before he could continue speaking, she opens the door of the office, jotting down the code and closing the door behind her. “She shouldn’t get in. She doesn’t know the code—”
“Tori gave me the code.” Taeyong speaks too quickly, going over to the desk to hide underneath it. “If Tori is the one behind this, he probably gave her the code too.”
“Shit.” She curses, thanking Allegra for teaching her the way through the office and her lack of trust for keeping her lips sealed. She opens the strongbox, getting inside of it in a crouched position before pressing her fingers against the touching pad at the very back.
“Hey, don’t leave me alone here.” Taeyong rushes behind her, only to have her tugging at his forearm to bring him with her.
“Take a deep breath and close the door. I’ve never used this getaway.”
With that, Taeyong follows her instructions, closing the strongbox’s door to be left in absolute blackness. Only when she opens the hidden door does the light come back to them, closing that small door behind them.
###
“Taeyong, will you just please move your ass?”
Ironic, given that Taeyong is just crawling through an underground passage, with last night’s one-night stand’s ass right in front of his face, as the distant sound of someone rummaging through the office like a maniac leaves his ears ringing.
“I—I am…” He breathes out, trying to get used to the closed-up space and concentrate on the peak of light he can see, well, between her legs? God, no one would ever believe him if he were to say this story out loud. “I just, I, um, I don’t know what just happened. That’s all.”
“This passage leads to an alleyway. We’ll smell like trash once we’re out, but we’ll be safe.” She breathes out, hands clinging onto the dusted walls around them before huffing. “Well, as safe as I can keep you…”
“I still can’t believe you trusted that Tori guy about me being a murderer.”
“I don’t keep up with sports, Taeyong.” She says, moving up to jot some numbers onto another notepad and much to his delight, the railings that keep them away from the alleyway open at her ministrations. He would have never thought these holes on the ground really existed. “But something about boxers, who have all the force in the world and get paid for it, murdering a woman in a passionate crime didn’t sound so impossible to me. Only because I have a sense of guilt and I’m not a murderer, did I decide to save you.”
“I’m not a violent guy. Just because I’m a boxer doesn’t mean you get to judge me—”
His ramblings are cut short when she turns around to look at him, both of their bodies extended underneath the opening, trying to reach it, but unable to. “Taeyong,” Her chest molds against his, looking completely different than she did when they met. Dress forgotten, she is cladded in all black, not a curve in sight from the oversized nature of her clothing. “Read the room and help me up so I can get us out of here.”
His hands wrap around her waist, as used as he was to it last night, but now cladding him in embarrassment. He does as she says, watching her arms expand on each side of the railing until she was out. Seated on the concrete and pulling her legs away, she extends her hand towards him.
“Up and at them. They’re going to catch up with us soon.”
He didn’t know what he expected when he was hoisted up, but it definitely wasn’t not to close this chapter of his life and continuing with this runaway stance. He coughs out the dirt that clung to his lungs, hearing her close the railings as he inspects the alleyway. It seems to be in the same neighborhood, but it’s so narrow and surrounded by trash that it looks inhabitable.
Shit, it is. The only reason why he would imagine someone would come in here was because they weren’t up to no good.
“What do you mean they’re going to catch up with us?” He asks, unaware of the way her fingers hook around his, dragging him away from the scenery and towards the street.
“Blend with people.” She instructs, pulling him along with her as she loses them in between masses of people. “If Tori is behind this, which I’m guessing he has something to do with this whole mess, he will know where to find me and he will discover the passage and where it leads to. This neighborhood has too many gangs, and it’ll only take a handful of money to have us both killed.”
“You have a…” Taeyong trails, patting the pocket of her coat where he saw her put her gun last. “Isn’t that supposed to protect us?”
“I’m not talking pistols, Taeyong. I’m talking rifles, grenades, knives, you name it, they have it.” It seems as though she doesn’t care about people hearing her speak about this. Or maybe, this is far more normal in this side of town than he had expected.
The rich only bring more issues into this world.
“And what are we going to do?”
“I’ll keep you safe for a few hours while you contact your team and we figure out what is going on. Once you’re with your team and I’m sure no one is following you. I will go have a talk with Tori.”
He may not be part of this world—and he’s starting to doubt she knows much more than running away—, but that doesn’t sound like an equation to success. “That’ll get you killed.”
She shrugs. “An eye for an eye.” She tells, turning around the corner and sighing deeply. Her hand extends towards a cab, calling it over in the crowded city. “I almost got you killed,” The sun rakes down on her face when she opens the door of the taxi. “So, you can expect me to almost get killed, too. Let’s just hope I survive it.”
Taeyong enters the car right behind her, looking around the windows with suspicion. Even the man at the front, old and with a long beard, keeps him on the edge. “Oh, a couple!” The taxi driver says, unexpectedly chatty. “I haven’t had one of those in a while.”
“Yeah.” She smiles, charming when she wants to, pulling her beanie up her head. The next thing she does is tell the man an address, leaning back on her seat for some seconds of silence. “I know you don’t trust me, Taeyong.” And he doesn’t, but the way she looks at him tells him that she is trying her best. “But I’ll do anything to protect you. No one deserves to die and definitely not for my actions, but there is a reason why Tori is targeting you…and if you’re not involved with any of his businesses, we have to find out why you’re the target.” Her whisper is delicate, but it sends a shiver down her spine.
He has to trust her. He has no other choice.
###
Sometimes, we have a wound. This wound, caused by another person, closes up after endless prodding. In her case, her wound was caused by Daniel. They were so happy once, enchanted enough for her to end up on the streets after he stole from her and glad enough for him to buy the apartment that they kicked her out of once she was working in The Jungle. He was a thinker, and a coward too, and while happiness could have been the end of their story, it wasn’t.
But it’s the only person she knows in her life that doesn’t come from The Jungle and that lives in a place where no one would ever find. Her little secret, she would say, and now she has to pierce through that wound that she had let heal only to keep Taeyong safe.
The muddy hallways were not ones she missed, filled with gossiping neighbors and endless music. So much that it thumps against her eardrums and it irks her endlessly. Either way, she moves up the woodened staircase, hearing each creak and letting it bleed through her. Daniel, when was the last time she saw him? Over five years ago, that’s for sure, maybe through the street or grabbing a drink.
“Where are we going?” Taeyong asks, moving over to her side as he still inspects everything. She can tell he’s thinking they are being followed, and who knows? They might.
“To my ex’s place.” She says, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s the only place Tori doesn’t know about, because I never liked talking about him. If they’re looking for us, they definitely won’t look here.”
Taeyong hums, nibbling on his nails as he ponders. “He must be a nice man. Your…ex…for letting you crash at his place just like that.”
She chuckles, standing upright in front of apartment 204. That’s where they moved in together after high school. “He’s not the worst man I have ever met in my life, but he stole all my money and left me in the streets so…he’s up there.” Without giving Taeyong the time to answer, she knocks on his door, licking her lips in the process. “Let’s just hope he feels some remorse and decides to help me for what he did to me.”
“We don’t have to do this.” Taeyong argues, only to have her shaking her head.
“We do, Taeyong.” Once again, she knocks. “We need to hide for a few hours. Not too little, not too long. They won’t find us here.”
“I don’t want to put you through that—”
The door opens then, and when she looks up at her much taller ex-boyfriend, she realizes she didn’t miss him one bit.
The enigma of Daniel was the fact that he was always a bit on the bad side. It’s like she saw shards of glass on the floor and she swore on her life she could put them back together. She swore it didn’t mean a thing when every single penny he earned went to the drinks he shared with his friends. She swore that he loved her, with all his being, with the way he wrapped his lips around a cigarette and kissed it as if it was her…
But now that she looks at the mirror of his dark eyes, clouded, she realizes that her being by his side was only a condemn. A doom. He was slowly and absentmindedly dragging her to be exactly like him, leaving habits within his wake. He was the one that taught her how to smoke, and she’s not sure she’ll ever drop her box of cigarettes without, at least, taking a drag.
He practically purrs out her name, his slim frame covered in a gray t-shirt and jeans. He crosses one leg over the other when he leans against the doorframe, bringing his cigarette up to his thick and dried lips, his short nose letting out some of the smoke when he blurts it out. “Thought I’d never see you at my doorstep again.”
“I never needed to.” She replies, eager to call him out—to take that smirk off his face, but Daniel is smart. Wicked intelligent, at that. He knows the only reason why she would ever be there is because she needs him. “…But now I need a place to stay with. With…my friend.”
The brown strands of his long hair curl around his face, chuckling. “Why’s that?”
She rolls her eyes. “Can’t we talk inside, Daniel?”
He hums. “Of course, but you never called me Daniel.” He opens the door wider then, taking another drag of nicotine as he moves inside. He doesn’t care giving his back to people, definitely someone who doesn’t have enemies surrounding him. God, she’s one of them. “It always Dany, Dany, Dany.” He repeats, putting the cigarette down on the coffee table, tapping the ashes before taking another drag. “In different occasions, too. Different tones, tempos, you were always very—”
She knows what he is doing. If there was one thing that was brittle in Daniel’s body was his ego. He saw another potential love affair, even when he had cheated on her a bunch of times probably, and he was already thinking of the past. “Very stupid. If you liked it when I called you ‘Dany’, you would have never stolen from me on the first place.” She puts her beanie down on the coffee table, pointing at one of the sofas to Taeyong. “We’ll crash here for a few hours. Some fucker is following me and trying to kill us and I need to keep him safe. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t, sugar.” The sarcasm in his voice is ever present, his tired and bag-filled eyes roaming over her face. “But I thought you’d, at least, have the decency to introduce me to one of the most well-known boxers of our time.”
“You know I don’t care about sports.” She repeats, something that she had told Taeyong already, and the man stares in between them as he sits down on the sofa. Awkward. Definitely uncomfortable.
“I—I’m Lee Taeyong.” He says, extending his hand for Daniel to take.
“I’m Daniel Kim.” He finalizes, shaking his hand. “Though, you probably heard wonders about me.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Daniel, I’m not here for your bullshit.”
“Right.” Finally, the flame of his cigarette dies down when he stomps on it with his foot, standing up from the flowery sofa and moving over to her. This place is as tainted as she remembers it, smelling like cardboard and humidity. “You’re here for protection and I’m here to prepare lunch and shut my pretty little mouth, ain’t it?”
She hums. “First correct thing you’ve said.”
Daniel chuckles, all teeth when he reaches for his box of cigarettes on the coffee table. Another one? It wouldn’t surprise her. “I’ve always managed to know what you wanted.” And that was one of the reasons why she always stayed. His wit played to his favor. Daniel could read her like a book, and she would always be surprised by his skills. His fingers press the cigarette stick to her mouth, and she complies by opening it, watching him as he lights it up before he turns to Taeyong. “Big fan of your work, man.”
He doesn’t seem to be utterly pleased to be where he is, and she doesn’t blame him. She put him in an unnecessary position. “Thanks. Can’t say the same thing about you.”
“Someone stole the Mona Lisa; I stole some money. Different stories for different folks, similar outcome.” Daniel shrugs, moving over to the kitchen and closing the white door behind him, leaving them in solitude when Taeyong scoffs.
“You really fell in love for that?”
“I was young and stupid.” She finalizes, taking the old landline by the kitchen door in between her fingers before putting the device up to her ear.
Taeyong stands up at that, as if knowing she wants him to call someone, when he says: “I imagine you did better after. As in, looked for better men.”
“I didn’t date anyone else after him. Well, went on some dates, like two.” She replies, not ashamed of her lack of experience, and giving the landline to him. “But…” Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she pulls the cigarette away from her lips to talk to him. “I did do better.”
“When?” Taeyong asks, pressing some numbers down with his slim fingers.
With you. Last night. She wants to tell him those words, but it’s useless. It could have easily been a simple one-night stand, perhaps a date after, but she had to fuck it up. “With someone. I—I shouldn’t really be talking about this.”
She puts her cigarette down, realizing exactly where she is, who she has always been. How could she even think their stories would have intertwined had it not been for Tori?
“Call your people. Whoever you trust and ask them where we can meet up. I’ll drop you off with Daniel’s car and then, I’ll see myself out of your life. You’ll never hear from me again and I can promise no one will bother you again.”
She turns her back to him. It’s the right thing to do. Instead, she turns off that old, raunchy television and sits down in front of it, trying to concentrate on something else.
###
By the time she plans to get out of Daniel’s place, it’s already eight at night. The sun has disappeared and her conversation with Taeyong has died down. Trivial things to keep themselves entertained and away from Daniel, who has embarked in one or two words about boxing with Taeyong.
Tori. Shit, she can’t keep Tori’s name away from her head. It’s second nature for her to correlate Tori with Allegra when they were together when Allegra had taken her in like a little sister. Tori had been the one to serve her meals, protect her from freaks when she was a bartender, and the one that taught her how to use a gun. Sure, he was always threaded in the world of organized crime, but she would have never imagined he’d kill for fun. Period.
But Taeyong could not lie to her. Something about him tells her that he is absolutely innocent. Maybe, it’s the confusion at hearing gunshots or the fact that nothing about him exudes malice, but the punches on Allegra’s corpse could have come from something else. Anyone with strength who hit on a dead body, that’s for sure.
Dongyoung, now that she knows is Taeyong’s publicist, had practically ripped her head off through the phone when Taeyong put her on it and told him everything. He was on the verge of calling the police, too, but that would only get her to jail and give unnecessary publicity to his team, just weeks away from the big fight. That’s the reason why she insisted on having him find a place for them to stay. A mansion not too far away from here was rented only this afternoon, and Taeyong would be moving in the matter of seconds.
She just needs to take him there and for that, she needs to get Daniel’s car.
“If he gets funny with you or asks you for something in return for the car, don’t do it.” Taeyong tells her once he sees her stand up, and she smiles when she looks at him from over his shoulder.
“I’ve taken care of myself plenty, Taeyong. You can land some good punches, but I think I can give a good bitch slap.” She replies, walking over to the kitchen with certain steps. “We should be out of here in ten minutes. Sit tight.”
The sizzling of vegetables comes from the pan in front of Daniel. Everything in the kitchen looks so small next to him, from the salt he pours on the pan to the pan on itself. He has changed clothing, taken a shower, and even when he’s cooking, a cigarette is in between his lips. Talk about hygiene.
“Daniel, I need you to lend me your car. I promise to return it…but tomorrow.” She starts, walking over to the white counter only to see Daniel hollow his cheeks, the ones she had once sprinkled with kisses, before taking his cigarette out.
As always, he speaks in between a cloud of smoke. “You can have it,” He says. “But I was thinking you guys could stay for dinner, too.”
She scoffs at that. “Sorry, man. I’m not sure I’m feeling like eating cigarette salad.”
Daniel chuckles at those words, shaking his head. “We used to share the same cigs and now you’re out here judging me for cooking while I smoke?” He asks, looking down at her as a smile takes over his features. She doesn’t feel a thing anymore, rapid on getting out of there. “Which reminds me, you really used to like it when I smoked as we had s—”
Stupid decisions made by even stupider, younger minds. She can’t even believe she fell in love with a foul mouthed, rampant mess like Daniel Kim. “Okay, the car keys. I’m out of here and looking for Tori—”
“That’s all I needed,” He leans his weight forward, looking into her eyes. “There’s something going on with Taeyong, I can feel it.”
“Oh, not this shit—” She mumbles, rolling her eyes. “If there was something with Taeyong, it’s none of your concern, Daniel. Get it through your head.”
“That’s a yes.” Daniel finalizes, licking the inside of his cheek before looking down at his stirred vegetables. “Damn, here I was thinking all highly about myself.”
“Your time passed long ago.” She tells him, watching him rummage through the cabinet of the counter before tossing the car keys at her.
“I can tell.” Wrapping his lips around the cigarette, he blurts out some words with the smoke. “One more thing—”
“I don’t have the time…”
“Is the man you’re looking for, that Tori guy, tall, with brown hair and always wears suits? Kind of tan…”
She frowns deeply. Daniel is not the kind of person to be around people of importance like this. “Yes. Why? Do you know him?”
“Don’t go wherever you’re thinking you can find him. He’s always accompanied.” He instructs, moving the vegetables around with his spoon. “I frequent this…brothel that he goes to. It’s the only place you can find him alone. He can’t go a week without a blowjob so I’m sure he’ll be there.” He takes a piece of napkin, jotting down the address before giving it to her.
Her stomach revolts against itself. “A brothel? Christ, Daniel, where has your life gone to?”
He clears his throat. “Turns out there are not a lot of women who would cope with me quite like you did…so, if I want to have sex, I have to pay for it.” It doesn’t surprise her one bit, but Tori? She couldn’t even imagine it.
“Thanks.” She dangles the keys he tossed at her before sprinting towards the door. Though, once she opens it, she comes face to face with Taeyong.
He looks like a deer caught in the headlights, blinking rapidly even when she tells him to start moving, walking out of the apartment with the man trailing after her steps.
“You’re not thinking of going to a brothel alone, are you?”
“Yes.” She replies, creaking stairs carrying her weight as she goes down. “I have to talk to him and see what the fuck happened.”
“He’ll kill you.” It’s hard for her to believe Tori would do such thing, so she shrugs.
“I’ll go in a two to three days just in case.” She pushes the address inside the pocket of her coat, next to her gun. “For the time being, I’ll stay at a motel and keep on the downlow. It should be fine. You’re going to your mansion with your bodyguards, I’m staying here—”
Taeyong shakes his head, taking her by the shoulders and shaking her slightly as he walks behind her, that doesn’t halter her steps. “Listen to yourself!”
“I’m listening, Taeyong. It’s a brothel.”
“It’s not the place only, it’s where you’re going and with who.”
“Alone.” She finalizes when they are by the entrance door of the apartment complex. “I should have never stopped being alone, that’s just how it is. It’s better off if I just—”
“Throw yourself to the mouth of the tiger, let yourself get chewed up and then, killed? You stand no chances.”
Trying to mask her concerns with vividness, she laughs, pushing the door open and clicking on the keys to see Daniel’s car come to life. “What are you talking about, Yong? You don’t know me—”
“I just know that if you were…if you were really like him, you wouldn’t have taken the bullets out. You spared my life even when I could have possibly been your friend’s killer and you continue to save me even if that means losing your entire casino. You left the place alone just to run away with me!” The breeze swirls against her clothing when she opens the passenger door, but before she could get inside the black, old car, Taeyong spits out some words that she would have never expected from him. “If you’re going to that brothel, I’m going with you.”
That is what does it, targeting at her patience and he has good aim. “You are not, Taeyong, end of story, get in that car and fuck off.”
While he does what she says, he can’t stop arguing: “So, what do you expect me to do?” Like a good citizen, he puts on his seatbelt, resting his palms on his knees. “I go to sleep each night for the next few days thinking about the fact that I left you to go alone on your own to some brothel, to get a guy who obviously has a team with him, and that you are going to die, most likely?”
She starts the car then, sighing deeply as she unparks it. “I know how to deal with Tori,” There can’t be all falseness in his personality. There must be a cause to all this. “Just leave it to me. If something happens, you don’t have to worry about it.”
“You’re a human being. Of course, I should worry—” Taeyong continues. Once his buttons are pushed, he can’t shut up, but the pushed pout on his lower lip has him looking far more innocent than he intends. “You don’t know how to deal with him. I’m certain he’s the bad guy—”
Sure, he may be right. “But we are all bad guys, Taeyong. I invite people in each night knowing the business that goes down in my establishment.” She pushes him away. He needs to get his head out of this business. “I—I robbed you, Taeyong. I’m a bad guy, too.”
He looks over to the side of the windows, surprising her when he leans over to her side, his breath fanning on her face when his palm gets lost in the pocket of her coat.
“Taeyong, just fuck off!”
“I need to know where you’re going, at least.” He spits out, and she is unable to take the piece of napkin away from his fingertips.
“You’re not going there.”
“I just—”
“Taeyong, I don’t want you to die. I don’t need you to.” Losing her temper, she concludes. “You don’t know what it’s like. Even if you go there and even if I do get killed, you don’t know how people like these react. They won’t only get you. They will get your staff, your friends, your family…you have no option but to follow after my advice. Stay out of it.”
He doesn’t utter a single word from then on, giving her the piece of napkin after reading over it. The silence settles in a way that has her opening her mouth a few times, trying to come up with something to say, but she’s left with nothing more than a goodbye when she reaches that mansion of his. Newest, fresh out of the market, and safe.
That’s all that matters.
###
The key to life is knowing how to nag. Outing opinions in common manners, though sometimes obstinate, is a talent, truthfully. But Dongyoung has something against his favor—he does not only have the key, he has the goddamned lock, the door itself. Nagging is his passion, his job, his talent, his characterization. It’s his everything, and Taeyong isn’t having it.
The black satin sheets rest on each side of his body, fresh out the shower after spending an entire day in that mansion. Goosebumps rise on his skin at his lack of shirt, looking up at the ceiling as he tries to concentrate on something. Anything other than her. When he was practicing in his own personal gym, early in the morning, with Soonhwan by his side worried out of his ass, he could only think that she’s out there, a target, looking to get killed and he knows that something bad with happen.
His hand rests behind his head when he watches, once again, that Dongyoung moves back and forth in the spacious new room he just bought. “What exactly were you thinking, Taeyong?” He asks, sighing deeply when he runs his fingers through his hair.
“Easy.” Taeyong whispers. “I wasn’t.”
This makes Dongyoung stop on his tracks, but Taeyong doesn’t see what he does. Looking at the ceiling is far more interesting, confirmed. “Oh, and that’s supposed to make me feel at ease? You’re lucky no one saw you. Not only did you sleep with a complete stranger, but you went to a hotel with her, almost got killed, decided to go with her to some raunchy apartment and now you can’t go anywhere without a bodyguard.” He says, anger flaring in each portion of his words. “Just to fuck a hole—”
“Yes, just to fuck. What’s the issue?” Taeyong sits up at that, rubbing the damp strands of his blonde hair that cast down his forehead. “I had sex with someone, but that’s the last thing on my list of worries. She could get killed at any second—”
“And that’s none of your business.” Dongyoung finalizes for him. “She tried to kill you, too.”
Truth is, Taeyong knows that he doesn’t trust her entirely. There will always be that nagging voice inside his head…but he can also see the factual matters on his hands. She saved his life, not once but twice. And even three times. She decided to go to that damned brothel whenever the hell she pleased without taking a ‘but’ for an answer.
“She’s the reason why I’m here.” Taeyong finalizes, standing up from his bed before walking over to the mini-refrigerator in his room. He really needs a snack. “And I’m sorry for worrying about someone who basically just threw herself to a bunch of people who want to kill her.”
“You can only care about yourself, Taeyong.”
He sighs deeply, head lulling forward to rummage through the refrigerator. There, he sees a granola bar. That should do it. “I know,” He starts. “That’s what I should do, but it…I don’t know, maybe you don’t see it this way, Dongyoung, but when I have sex with someone, is because I feel a connection.”
Dongyoung raises his eyebrows. “Oh, my God—”
“What?”
“Taeyong.” Once he has stood up, his publicist takes him by the cheeks, looking into his eyes as he tries to clear his mind. “Everything is a connection when your dick is hard. That’s just how it is. Have you ever thought about anything while having sex? No. That’s because sex is not a thinking process. It wasn’t that deep.”
“Maybe, you’re right.” He says, opening the granola bar and taking a bite. “But,” He swallows, aware of how awful his voice sounds when in the midst of eating. “You just weren’t there. She could have left my ass after I cursed her over and over again, but she didn’t. That takes responsibility.”
Dongyoung lets go of him, shrugging. “So?”
“So what?”
“You’re going to a brothel, where everyone is going to recognize you and just…save her?”
Taeyong shakes his head, deep in thoughts as he munches on the snack. “I just have to figure out what is going on first. Before she does.”
That has Dongyoung cackling. “Good luck with that.” He says, picking up his phone and looking through his contacts. “For the time being, I’ll actually do my job, as you should and try to keep everything you just did under control and for fuck’s sake, if you tell me one more time that you had a connection with someone when having sex with them, I’ll be the one to cut off your balls before they get us in any more trouble.”
Sounds like business in the way Dongyoung speaks and on the rare occasion, Taeyong would have listened to his words. He knows how difficult it is to keep a career like this but…
He doesn’t listen now.
###
Smiles and waves make less mistakes, but they aren’t any truer when in front of cameras. Interviews are exactly his thing—Taeyong has rehearsed to speak in front of the public and being liked comes inherently to him. Though, ESPN had no idea just what kind of week he had when they invited him over to watch over some fights and give his commentary.
It’s good publicity and Dongyoung is practically at the verge of his seat in happiness. He only wants the best for him, Taeyong can acknowledge that, but his mind weights with the possibilities of having lost her. As in, physically, she was never his to start with. Five days have passed since the last time he saw her and if she had gone to that fucking brothel, it had already happened. For some reason, he tries to tell himself that she’s dead already; that he really, sincerely, wholeheartedly, and all words with ‘ly’ terminations should not give a fuck.
But he does.
The glide of boxing gloves and the mixture of groans fill the dense air as people cheer for the heavyweights fighting on the ring. He respects them, and would have waited to take pictures with them, bathed in blood, putting all their will into it had he not seen someone jump up from his seat to scream directly at the boxers.
It’s not the person per say that catches his attention, but who is by his side. The man screaming, void of any embarrassment, filled with vanity is none other than Eiji, his rival. Tall, with a permanent frown on his features and a long face, his black hair sleeked back with plenty of gel to show his thick eyebrows, reddened eyes, long nose and thin lips.
Women went crazy for the bad boy persona Eiji had within him, but Taeyong knows better. The man likes blood, loves the collide of his knuckles against some flesh. Eiji has the world wrapped around his finger, gets what he wants when he wants it, but he would have never thought he’d be accompanied by someone like Tori.
That Tori.
The man that almost shot him.
If the commenters know something, they don’t tell, because Taeyong rolls down his seat the slightest, munching on his fingernails out of fear. God fucking damn it, that’s a reason! Eiji hates his guts, would kill him if he had the chance, had been asking to fight with him for months but he had denied it time and time again. Who blames him? Taeyong fears the guy, that’s all he knows, but he would have never thought he’d ask—
Wait. Pause.
Taeyong tugs at Dongyoung’s sleeve, pushing his mouth to his ear when he whispers: “The man next to Eiji was the man that tried to kill me.”
Dongyoung may be too lost in the fight or in the music, because he turns to him and screams: “What did you just say?”
Sighing, the boxer repeats: “That’s Tori, the man that tried to kill me. Maybe, they weren’t going after her, they were going after me.” It makes more sense now. Tori had lied to her to help him kill him because he couldn’t have any possible straight connection to Taeyong, or couldn’t get a hold of him, so in order to avoid any extra work from him, he had asked her to join him with the excuse of doing justice. Then, she had acted upon rationality, thrown off the bullets and called it a day. Had she not done that, he wouldn’t be here…
But the issue was never with her. She’s in more danger because she saved him.
And she definitely doesn’t have any bodyguards with her, like Taeyong does…so…
It’s a matter of time before they get her, if they haven’t already.
Taeyong could assume that said statement was the case, but he couldn’t help but think she was still out there, in danger.
“Let me call the bodyguards—”
Dongyoung tries to take matters into his hands, but Taeyong stands up. “No man, we’re going to that brothel and you’re helping me get her. That’s what we’re doing.”
His publicist shakes his head widely. “Taeyong, no—”
“They were looking for me, dumbass, they weren’t looking for her. I need to…I need to make sure she’s okay.” Before Dongyoung could say anything else, he turns to the commenters, lowering his face to the two older men to speak over the bustling noises. “I’m sorry, but something came up right now, I have to go. It was a pleasure working with you.”
“Come around any other time, Taeyong!”
“You’ve got it.” When he tugs at Dongyoung sleeves, walking through the rows of people, he hears his publicist huffing.
“Do you really expect me to get inside a brothel just to look for—?”
“Yes. We have to. You can call all the bodyguards you want, but we’re going.”
Though, he swallows the fear at the pit of his stomach. It’s only a matter of time before they get to him…or even worse, Eiji could kill him on the ring himself.
###
Hips, the place Daniel talked about is called, and while it’s covered from the police as a ‘strip-club’, she knew that it wasn’t the moment she entered three days ago.
Everyone who would look at her from afar, workers or just costumers, would think that she is, perhaps, obsessed with sex. Or that, for some reason, she was a watcher that enjoyed a few drinks, getting a glimpse of some men and women, and then she was off and away from this kind of world. A coward who couldn’t get the job done, but was just on the brink of trying it. They couldn’t be more wrong, even though she has gotten used to the place, green and violet neon lights casting down on the black room the moment she enters. I.D checked, money given, everything is under control.
And definitely, Tori has been nowhere in sight. Daniel could have confused him with anyone else named Tori, maybe someone whose real name was, indeed, Tori but she keeps trying. It’s the only clue she has left to earn the casino back. Last time she tried to enter, yesterday afternoon, bullets pierced through the armored car. Tori has fucking stolen her place, and she can’t get it back.
Not yet, at least, she has to make mends with him and sign a contract or something. She gives him what he wants, he leaves her the fuck alone.
Friends are not to be trusted. No one is, really, but when she pushes through the seas of people, women clinging onto half-naked men and men throwing money as if they were the owners of this place, she feels like she has a plan. It comes in the shape of the man that stands under the blinking, violet neon sign that reads ‘sexy boys in your area’.
Oh, cringe.
But he’s smiling at her as he nears her, taut abdomen contracting, sweet smile and innocent features changed by the darkness of his eyes, as nightly as the black strands of his hair that damply fall on his forehead when he stands in front of her.
How he isn’t sweating buckets with those leather pants? She has no clue.
“I’ve seen you around.” The sex worker says, voice soft like a blanket, extending his hand forward and she shakes it, earning sweet laughter from him. What? Was he expecting her to hold his hand or something? “I would think you really can’t be sedated, but…I think it’s pretty obvious you’re looking for someone.”
Well, pretty boy is intelligent, at least. “I am.”
“Is it your partner?” He asks, his plush lips wrapping around a softer smile. “We get plenty of husband and wives trying to mend their marriages, but it always falls down when they catch them here. If they haven’t come around, I could check the books to see if they are a regular.”
He’s not her husband. Or her boyfriend. God forbid she ever laid a finger on Tori, and the thought alone makes her want to barf, but whoever this stripper is, with love bites scattered across his neck and legs that seem to last for miles, tries to help her the best he can. “What’s your name?”
He chuckles, leaning his weight onto the wall next to her. “We don’t use real names here. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I don’t.” She mumbles, looking through the pocket of her dark denim jacket for her box of cigarettes. She lights one up at the same time that the extremely handsome worker breathes out his nickname.
Or his work-name, really. She has one of those. Jinhee does, as well. She never heard Tori’s real name.
“Woo.” Melodic voice breathing out, in what she supposes is an empathic tone, he continues his speech. “I can tell you what you need to know if you book an appointment with me.”
She quirks an eyebrow, embarrassment engulfing her. “I—I have never…”
“You don’t have to, well, we don’t have to do anything.” Woo conceptualizes, pointing in between the two of them. “I’ll take you to by assigned room, but I’ll only answer your questions.”
“How much?” She asks, lurking for her wallet to get her card out.
“Two hundred the hour.”
She has never done the walk of shame. Not even with Taeyong, but it feels like one when she pays for an hour with Woo. The man doesn’t even put on a shirt, smiling at some of the people scattered around the brothel before he opens the dark velvety door. When it closes behind them, does he actually light up the room in its soft light, a white bed in the middle of a champagne room accompanied by burning red cushions.
He goes over to the mini-bar at the corner, serving himself a cup of whiskey as he speaks. Shit, he really doesn’t look like he belongs here. He could potentially be an actor if he wanted to, one of those pretty ones in romantic comedies.
“So, what do you want to know?” Woo asks, leaning his slim frame against the mini-bar as he sips on the honey-colored whiskey.
She takes a seat on the bed, with her back properly straight, blinking at him. “Ah…” Awkwardness follows her movements, but she shakes her head. This is not the time to be embarrassed for being in a brothel. “He goes by the name Tori. He’s an associate at The Jungle, my casino. I want to know who he is working with and he’s a constant costumer around here—”
“Oh yes, he is.” Woo accepts, licking his plush lips. “One of my friends, Ice, she is the one that is usually hired by him. He’s an absolute freak…” He trails his voice, deep in thought. A tint of red washes over his face, as if somehow touched by awkwardness for what he is about to say. Definitely a paradox for a sex worker. “And loud, too. Super loud. He asks Ice to tie him up to the ceiling and—”
Her hands come up to her ears before he can continue with that mentally scarring image of Tori. Shit. “No, no, no, I want to know who he works with. That’s all.”
Woo chuckles at her antics, soft and tranquil, before he walks over to the bed. He sits next to it, laying his cheek on the mattress as he speaks. He keeps his distance, respectful of her desires above all. “I know he is part of some organized crimes. He works with a lot of people.” He says. “He brings them over here sometimes. I’ve slept with some of them.”
That’s a start. “And who is his leader?”
“I don’t hold that kind of information.” Woo utters, shrugging. “I know they go by the name ‘The Redemption’, but I’m not quite sure who is their leader. I could guess if I saw them, but I don’t know his name—”
Screams and bustle fill the air around the brothel outside, but she doesn’t pay attention to it. “Are you sure—?”
“Sir, you can’t go in there!”
“I need to get her out of here and I promise I’ll leave.”
“She’s getting services—”
“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before! Just let me in!”
The door opens in the blink of an eye and though she hasn’t spoken to him much, she saw him take Taeyong in when she dropped him off at his mansion. Kim Dongyoung is right in front of her, blinking rapidly with a frown on his features as he points his thumb outside the door.
“We need to go now. You’re not safe here.”
She stands up at those words, frowning back at him. “Dongyoung? What are you doing here?”
“I said we need to go. My…represented person is waiting for you.”
She tries to stifle her laugh. He’s really not trying to say Taeyong’s name.
“We’ll, that’s the end.” Woo finalizes, splaying himself on the bed for one second before taking another sip of his drink. He speaks to the organizer in the brothel. “Tell me when I’ll have a real client.”
“Thank you—!” She can’t say much to Woo as Dongyoung is tugging at the sleeve of her jacket, dragging her along with him as he speaks, albeit raggedly.
“I can’t believe Taeyong is saving your ass when you’re not even helping anyone. You’re out here, sleeping with someone, while he’s in danger.”
She scoffs at his words. “I wasn’t sleeping with anyone.” She defends herself. “Woo is a worker here and he offered to give me information if I paid him for the hour.”
“Yeah, whatever.” The security guard opens the door for Dongyoung, two bodyguards standing in front of the black wagon that probably had Taeyong inside. The man turns around, hair whisked by the wind as he talks to her. “I don’t care what you’re doing, I care what happens to him…because he’s my friend, and you dare get him killed or break his heart, and I’ll go after you.”
With the certainty she has had to use when being put in front of a business, she hums. “You can bet on that. I would never hurt Taeyong.”
Dongyoung nods at her words. “Then, get in the wagon. He has something to tell you.”
###
A border of silence separates them in the tinted wagon, driving through the streets thanks to the chauffeur. Even Dongyoung, who had been an avid supporter of getting his hands out of this mess, remained silent after she and Taeyong had put all the cards on the table. He’s not good at poker, but he is good at bringing the pieces of this puzzle together. Taeyong is a rational thinker, while she’s more of an act.
Eiji Watanabe, a professional boxer, up and against Taeyong, thirsty for blood and power. Tori, her former companion, who had done everything and anything to seem innocent in this situation, even to Taeyong. He must be following after her now, along with Taeyong, considering that she was the one that ruined his mission. But thinking of Eiji, at such a young age, as the leader of a group like The Redemption, a mafia or a gang whatsoever, is a little bit hard to believe.
He may be a connection, a rich kid in the way who manages to call the shots from time to time. It must be in his family, much like Tori’s family was involved in that kind of thing, from a higher hierarchy that Tori fearing what he could do, or following after his steps. Thus, she has to make Taeyong believe Eiji is not entirely the culprit behind this, but he is one of those spoiled rich men with power who decide that disliking someone is enough of a reason to murder.
She sighs, looking over to the side but she can’t see much from the city with those tinted windows. Not to say she doesn’t fear, but she has to say this: “I’ll go my own way. Stay out of your lane.” She concludes. Truth be told, she always thought death wasn’t going to come—she expected it, said she didn’t fear it, claimed life as more difficult than death, but now that it palpitates on her tongue, bleeds its taste onto the muscle, she can’t help but be frightened by the idea her eyes close and they stop working altogether, along with the rest of her body.
“Fucking finally.” Dongyoung says, lifting his hands in the air as if his prayers had been heard. “Can we call the police now, too?”
“Bad publicity, remember.” Taeyong replies to Dongyoung, folding the sleeves of his white button down up to his elbows before sighing deeply. Everything about him looks expensive now, and she can’t help but study his otherwise dulcet features bathed in worry. It should have never gone like this for him. “So, Eiji is trying to kill me…and Tori is trying to kill you.”
“Yes.” She adds, between a chuckle. “I shouldn’t have—It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t…if I hadn’t just seduced you—”
“But you did. I could have said no, too.” Taeyong explains, spreading his palm over his chest, right atop his heart. “I could’ve just not had a one-night stand, but I did. We did. And I can’t simply let you die because you think this is all your fault.”
“I knew what was going to happen. It is my fault.”
“We can’t point fingers between each other.” He says, finishing the sentence with her name. As egotistic as it sounds, she loves how he rolls the name off his tongue. “We’re dealing with something bigger here. You have to get your casino back and Tori was probably the one behind her death—”
She acknowledges that, but she can’t quite put all her worries on Taeyong. “For the same reason, I should leave. You don’t know how long it will take until I get my casino back.”
“Well, it will take however long has to take, but you will.” Even when he is trying to sound certain, she can see a bit of nervousness in his eyes, biting on his nail before huffing. “What I’m trying to say is that you can stay at my mansion, with bodyguards, with me until you figure it all out. He’s right behind you and I can’t live with the weight of knowing I let someone die.”
Dongyoung widens his eyes from his spot, straightening his back on the seat. “We never a—agreed to that.”
“Dongyoung…”
“I don’t want to be any trouble.” She says, but Taeyong leans forward, taking her hands in between his when he retaliates:
“You’re already enough trouble. I think I can get used to it.”
Her throat dries up at those words, thinking and pondering of her place, perhaps surrounded by workers of Tori and how she almost got killed at the casino. There is nowhere else to go, so she responds:
“Okay, I’ll stay with you for the time being, but I’ll protect you, as well. Consider me another bodyguard.”
“Shit.” Dongyoung says once he sees the two smiling at each other. “Am I painted on the wall or do you guys just decide not to listen to me?!”
###
Awakening in Taeyong’s place tells her one thing: This is not a mansion, it’s a damned palace.
Now, now, owning a casino has given her enough to live a good life. Lavish, surely, but she has always been a bit uptight with money, but even as she gets out of the door that Taeyong had lent her, she gets a bit lost in between the gray walls and modern decorations. Everything pristinely put, as if scared of being touched, and she doesn’t even let her fingertips roam the walls properly while going down the set of stairs. Could’ve used the elevator, but she decided against feeling like the crazy, neat-freak scientist in murder movies today.
She gets to the kitchen, cladded in Taeyong’s sweatpants and a t-shirt that only now she realizes reads his nickname in boxing. It’s classical, a black t-shirt with an outline of him in white that reads “The New Boy”. Well, not so new anymore. Taeyong is on the verge of reaching the highest point of his career.
And she had to come and ruin it all.
Just as she’s reaching for the bottle of orange juice, she hears someone entering the kitchen. She stands up far too quickly, nerves on edge as she takes the Coca Cola bottle next to the orange juice, shakes it three times before she points it at the culprit in question.
Whom she sees is far different from what she imagined. Taeyong stands there, hair recently washed, his white t-shirt three times his size, lifting up his taut abdomen.
“Get close to me or I’ll…shoot…you…” Her voice grows weaker with the passage of time, staring at Taeyong with widened eyes before the man chuckles, lowering his hands altogether.
“With a Coca Cola bottle?”
She scoffs. “A shaken Coca Cola bottle. Whoever decided to attack me would have learned his lesson.”
“I can imagine, but don’t you have a gun?” Taeyong asks, running his fingers through his hair and keeping the hand there. Even at the peak of the morning, seven to be exact, he shines the brightest. Never had she seen a man hold so much beauty beneath him.
Her eyebrows raise at his statement. “I don’t point my gun around at everyone, you know?”
“Hard to believe.” The first thing he does is move the coffee machine out of its confines, the scent of fresh coffee beans taking over the kitchen. Shit. How long has it been since she has felt the smell of home? With fresh food, accompaniment, someone else’s perfume lingering in the air. “Either way,” He whispers, raising his voice the slightest to sound cute. Where were people like him in her part of the world? Where everything is wicked and broken. “I brewed you some coffee. Wasn’t sure if you’d like it, so I went all out with breakfast.” He opens the oven then, turned off, taking out the leftovers of what he had prepared. Still lukewarm. “Hot cakes,” He points to each thing he prepared. “With honey and cinnamon, spongey scrambled eggs and sliced avocado.”
“You didn’t have to—” But Taeyong is already settling the plate of food on the counter, and serving her a mug of coffee.
“There are sliced fruits in the fridge. I was going to pair them up with oatmeal, but I wasn’t sure if you’d like it.” He looks up then, placing the mug in between her fingers before rubbing the back of his neck. “Soonhwan tells me I’m an old man on the inside for liking oatmeal.”
She chuckles, taking a sip of what may compete with the best cafés in town. It’s not too sugary, with droplets of chocolate on its taste, dulcet but with some kind of spice that has her humming. “Oh my God—” She brings her hand up her mouth, savoring the taste. “You made this?”
“I like cooking. And coffee. I used to work at my grandma’s bakery when I was young.” Taeyong is rummaging through the cabinets, getting a fork and a knife out before moving towards the kitchen. “Let me look for the fruit so you can start eating—”
“Taeyong.” She calls out, voice clear as day. Her face is heated, perhaps with embarrassment. “I almost got you killed and you’re acting like a prince? You can’t do that.”
He lifts his head, half-covered by the fridge’s door, before he says: “This is called being an average roommate, who wants you to feel welcome and safe.”
She shakes her head, chuckling when he takes a plate of fruit out, placing another fork inside before he settles all meals on the kitchen island. Taking her mug with her, she takes a seat on the stool Taeyong has dragged for her. “No.” She concludes. “This is…this is madness, Taeyong. No one has ever treated me like this.”
Taeyong looks at her, raising his eyebrows for a brief second as he internalizes the words. Shit. She shouldn’t have opened her big mouth, so she tries to stifle it with some of the food he prepared for her.
“No one…has ever treated you well?” He asks, only to have her laughing, trying to cover it all.
“Taeyong, don’t listen to my stupid sad shit—”
“That’s not an answer.” But he is a prier, curious in his own way, and she has to sigh, biting down on her lip when she picks at the avocado.
Her life flashes in front of her. Happiness, then not. A smile, then a frown. It was never consistent. Never solid. Never planned or thought out. She wholeheartedly believed in high-highs and low-lows. “Life is more difficult for some people,” She says, slicing through the avocado and putting it inside her mouth. “And I just happened to never meet nice people to help me make life better.”
He wraps his hands around the edge of the island, sighing. “Then, why don’t you leave it?”
Curious, she tilts her head to the side, connecting her gaze with his. No longer are his eyes mirrors. They will never be for her, when she sees him as…as perfection itself. With some mistakes, sure, but far more simplistic than anything she had ever seen. “Leave what?”
“The Jungle.” He instructs, and she smiles at his words, shaking her head. “I’m serious. If it has only brought you stress, leave it. It’s not worth it. You could be a nice person—”
“Yong,” She interrupts, voice tiny, looking down at her hands before humming. “One day, you have your friend by your side and she’s drunk. She’s so drunk her eyes roll back and she’s laughing at everything she says, but something gets serious in her. So serious…that she can’t believe it herself. She says to you that the day she dies, she wants you to take charge of her place, her dream, the only thing she considered worth living for.” The images of Allegra fill her brain once again. Friendship was never the same; and for a reason. Tori betrayed her, and Allegra proved to be the only person she could trust in at the end. “…And then, you see her dead and her last breath is given in your arms. She’s fragile, broken, and…and she’s looking at you. She’s dead but her eyes are open and the only thing you can think of is that you want all her dreams to come true.” She lifts her gaze then, looking at him. “She saved me, but I never got to save her…and this is my only chance to prove that she was my realest friend.”
The doors to the kitchen swish open at that moment, a man with a husky voice, well above Taeyong’s age, says into the thin air: “Atta boy, we need to practice for—” His voice loses itself when she looks over her shoulder, connecting her gaze with whom she can only guess is Soonhwan. Old, with soft features, and a nose so crooked from so much fighting that it almost touches his cheek. “Oh, look at who we have here. Main character of the decade—”
“Soonhwan…” Taeyong threatens, voice low, though never scary. “Don’t become a Dongyoung, she’s…she has saved me enough times for me to pay back.”
“I’m not saying a thing.” Soonhwan says, running his fingers over his lips as if he was zipping his mouth up. “I’m just saying: Nice to meet you. I’ve heard…plenty from you. I don’t know what to believe for the moment, but we’ll figure it out.”
He’s candid, sincere, in the way he extends his hands and shakes hers. She can only bring herself to nod. “I’ll do my best to protect your boy.”
His eyes trail down to the logo on her shirt. “If only all fans spoke like you…” He trails, letting go of her hand to wrap his arm around Taeyong’s shoulder. The man shrinks like a boy being embarrassed in front of his crush by his old and jokester dad. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, not all of us are lucky enough to know how to use a gun and I have to prepare my boy for the fight.”
Taeyong sighs. “Yeah…”
“Seventeen days from now. We’re going strong for that fight.”
She continues to eat, shrugging her shoulders. “Suit yourselves. I’ll be here…thinking about dinner recipes and…how to make them and not fuck them up in the process.” She points at the plate with her fork. “This is too good to compete with, but if I’m staying here, we have to make an arrangement.”
“Arrangement?” Taeyong questions, confused.
“You make breakfast, I make dinner.”
Soonhwan whistles at that. “Well, I better start living here if that’s the case.”
“Soonhwan!” Taeyong nudges his side, earning breathy laughs from Soonhwan.
“Let’s go, kid. It’s getting late and we need to train.”
With that, he’s gone, leaving her with a trail of his scent and a taste of his immaculate cooking skills.
Dinner time is going to be difficult for her.
###
Seven days until the fight and Taeyong’s nerves are up the roof. The media has started to go crazy, publicity at its peak, Dongyoung the busiest he has ever been and his eyes are reddened from the lack of sleep. He spends most of his time practicing, with the usual break for a meal or a chat with…well, her.
It’s eleven at night when his phone is no longer as interesting as it should and he decides to go to the gym, get some punches on and practice a bit more. Though, once he slides the doors open, he is met by the sound of groaning and rubber hitting against rubber. His sturdiest punching bag, in a bright red color through the gray walls, stands out when she collides her fists against them, covered by his fighting gloves that move around her hands thanks to her ignorance in not knowing how to put them on.
The door closes behind him, but she’s too immersed in whatever consumes her, sweat pooling at her forehead, sporting her pajamas as she knocks and knocks against the punching bag. They are weak punches, but filled with rage, trying her hardest to bend something stronger than her to her will. As though she wants power again, but she’s unable to receive it.
“You’re going to hurt yourself.” Taeyong says, moving over to her to take the punching bag in between his fingers. She looks at him, hands misplaced in front of her, one over the other, as she tries to land another punch. Upon trying to smile at her, she doesn’t.
“What is there to it?” She asks, voice low, void of any hope, ridden by impatience. “If I hurt myself, what’s there to it? I have nothing else to lose.”
Her right fist lifts up at that, a groan ripping through her throat when she punches the bag again. Taeyong widens his eyes, shaking his head in the process. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What just happened?” Though, worry only glimmers on him when he sees her drop to her knees, taking off his gloves and tossing them to the side when she brings her hands up to her eyes, folding onto herself as a sob escapes her. “Hey…”
He rushes towards her, taking her in between his arms as he tries to get a glimpse of his face. Her hold is strong, covering every ounce of pain on her features.
“Let go, Taeyong.”
“Not when you’re like this.” Taeyong whispers, resting his chin on top of her head as he hears her crying in his arms. His heart is broken, and he doesn’t even know why. He’s captured in this mansion, aware of his surroundings, because of her, isn’t it? Somehow, his mind can’t quite believe that she wasn’t another little card played in a game of poker, but they both lost. “W—What happened? I can’t help you if you don’t…if you don’t tell me. Oh God, please stop crying—”
She doesn’t, but she rubs at her eyes, lifting her gaze to connect her eyes with his own once he pulls away from her. Not enough to let go of her, but to look at her instead.
“I’ve lost it all, Taeyong.” She says, shaking her head when her lip trembles. She bites it before another sob could leave her. “I’ve lost my friend, the casino, my apartment, my life. Taeyong, how can I protect you when I have nothing else to lose? I don’t see a way out of this mess Tori created for me—”
Taeyong shakes his head, using his thumbs to rub the tears away. “You haven’t lost everything.” For some reason, he finds his body gravitating towards her, his nose resting on the side of her face as he takes in a breath, rubbing his skin with her own when a shaky sigh leaves her. “You haven’t lost me. I’m your friend. I’m here. You’ve proved yourself trusty enough—”
“You’re not mine to lose, Taeyong.” She repeats, shaking her head. “I can’t be your friend. I haven’t lost you yet, Taeyong. They’re still looking for you and you’re getting in that ring looking to—” Her arms push him away, obstinate in the way she rests a hand against her forehead. “Looking to get killed, Taeyong. Eiji is going to murder you.”
Taeyong denies that with a little smile of his own. “That’s the risk of being a boxer. A punch could always be a little bit too strong—”
“No, Yong, he’s looking to kill you. I investigated him, Taeyong, he’s killed someone on the ring—”
“What can I do?” He asks, though never does he lift his voice or accuse her of anything. A feather in the way he reaches out for her and once again, takes her in with those eyes of his. “I can’t back out. I can’t do that now when I’m just one step away from reaching what I have worked so hard for.”
His ambition has blinded him, or maybe, she is just a coward while he has been the real hero all along. “Right.” She whispers, reaching a hand out to cradle his face before a grin takes over her features. “Taeyong?”
“Mhm?” He hums, eyelashes fluttering against the underside of his eyes.
“I will never have enough words to tell you how sorry I am for getting you into this. For using your punching bag, too.” She tells, earning laughter from him as he helps her up.
“I was just worried you’d injure yourself. Bad punches and with the gloves not put on correctly? An equation to broken knuckles.”
“Oh, because you’re an expert in broken knuckles.” She jokes around, only to have him nodding.
“You’d be surprised to know that I am quite knowledgeable in the subject.” Though, his warm hands reach for her own as he puts the gloves on her, palming her hands together to make sure they are tightly put. “Come on, I’m going to teach you how to land a good punch.”
###
Her favorite part of the entire mansion is the balcony. The railings are modern, straight lines and no curves, but the coldness of it when she wraps her fingers around it, the breeze swooshing at her hair has her closing her eyes. For once, the world feels okay. It’s quiet, peaceful, she’s back in square one. No judgement, no time, nothing to worry about.
But she has things to worry about. Twenty-four hours until the fight. An entire day filled with images of what she has made her mind into. She opens her eyes then, hearing the doors of the balcony slide open until she feels someone placing a cold glass against her skin. She hisses, turning around to capture the cause of the shiver and pain that rakes up her skin, but when she wraps her hand around Taeyong’s wrist, he’s already smiling.
No, he’s chuckling, like a goddamned child on a Christmas morning before he waves the glass of iced tea in front of her face. “I’ve got you and I’ve got you good.” He says, now resting it against her cheek when she tries to reach out for it again. It burns, that’s for sure.
“Taeyong!” She scolds, even when he continues laughing, almost choking on his own iced tea when he takes a sip to ease his laughter. It doesn’t work, clearly, and she has to pat his back to get him to stop coughing, eyes brimmed with tears when he looks up at her. “Jesus, why did you drink the tea if you were laughing?”
“I…I…was…” He coughs again, chuckling when he straightens his back and looks at her, rubbing his tears again. “I was being stupid.” His voice comes out hoarse, but that’s all his doing.
“I could tell.” She replies, but a little giggle makes its way through her lips. This is probably the last time she is going to see him like this, and she can’t help but feel a little tug at her heart. The past few weeks have been tranquil, perfect in their own way, and she knows better than to get attached…but she has never had a friend like this. “So, Yong.” He repeats her name, only to have her taking a sip of the tea. “You prepared for tomorrow?”
The question almost sounds like she is asking herself, but she ignores it, concentrating on the way Taeyong nods. “I am.” She hums, turning around to continue to look at the moonshine and the dangling stars, but just as she takes in a breath, she feels his presence behind her, resting one hand on her hair to ruffle it softly. “Thank you for making dinner all these days. It was tasty.”
“Tasty?” She questions, looking over her shoulder to see him a bit too close. His eyes look down at her lips, parting his own, shimmered by the glistening lights of the city around them. Too far to see them. “It was average at best.”
“It was made with intent. That’s all that matters.” He whispers, resting one of his arms on the side of her body, hooking his fingers on the railing before taking a sip of his drink. The sinful way his throat goes up and down and he licks his lips after has her cursing herself internally. “You know, I really thought you were going to be one of the best people I would ever meet. Then, you were the worst. And then, you came out to be…”
“The worst, again?”
“Human. You’re neither too good nor too bad. You’re real.” Taeyong says, his breath fanning over her face when he looks into her eyes. “A friend of mine once told me that I had to inspect people’s eyes to know if they were lying or not. I had to see myself in them, but I could never see me in yours. I could only see…see you, you giving it your all to make sure I was okay.” He mumbles, and she feels her heart being stepped on, tugged, eaten alive just at his words. His body pushes forward, his abdomen contorting to her back when he leans down, lips caressing her own. “And I want to be able to thank you—”
He places the glass down on the table next to them, his cold fingertips melting against her stomach when he brings her back, pressing his lips against her own. His slim body molds to hers perfectly, as if made to fit her, and for a moment, she stays there, with her chin placed over her shoulder as she kisses him with fervor. It feels right, to have the wet glide of his lips against her own, tongues getting to know each other and he lets out a soft breath.
But that’s the thing. Taeyong is soft, dulcet, tranquil. He’s made for all the good in the world, and she’s in the bad. As much as her heart wants to glimmer gold, it’s tainted in black. She pushes herself away from him, taking in a deep breath when he looks into her eyes. There is nothing that she desires more than to kiss him, but—
“It’s better if we don’t.” She mumbles, and he stays quiet for a few seconds before pushing himself away from her.
“You didn’t want to? Oh shit, I didn’t mean to—”
“I want to, Taeyong. I’d kiss you forever if I could.” She replies, turning around until her back is resting against the railing. “I would love to have you kissing me silly and be with you but—”
“But?” Taeyong asks, raising his eyebrows.
“But from tomorrow on, I won’t be with you.” Though, she shortens the real reason. “I don’t…want you to think I’m a good person, that underneath me is all the good in the world. I’ve hung out with the wrong people and no I have to learn how to deal with that. I can’t fill your life with that bullshit. Not anymore.”
Taeyong crosses his arms over his chest, staring off into the city, his hair tied behind his back to put his gorgeous face in full display. “So, tomorrow you will leave?”
“I’ll make sure I leave everything organized so they never bother you again.” She moves over to him, splaying her hands on his chest, rolling them backwards until they rest on his back and she tugs him for a hug. She doesn’t want him to see the tears that gather in her eyes when she says: “And as long as you’re okay, that’s all I could care about. You’ll get over it, Taeyong, but I could never get over losing you.”
Taeyong nuzzles his nose against her neck, breathing in deeply before the warmth of his mouth lets out a few words: “Why couldn’t it have been easier for us?”
The possibilities are endless, but she fights back the tears and pulls away to say a truth she doesn’t want to accept. “Because we were never meant to be, Taeyong.” With that, she takes the glass she had left on the side, taking a sip before humming. “So, care to watch a movie with me before everything goes to hell?”
He nods. “There’s nothing I’d love more.”
###
As it turns out, the lights on top of the ring burn against his skin, compared to the flashes and the cheers that come with the people surrounding him. For once, he feels naked, as if reborn again, with his shirt off and his knuckles well prepared for a good punches, his hair pushed away from his face and his eyes directly set onto Eiji.
The man practically oozed confidence the moment he entered the ring. Tall, sturdy, ready to take over the world, with his prize wrapped around his waist before he unhooks it and shows it to the world. He even manages to throw some laughter Taeyong’s way, teeth clattering and eyes throwing daggers by the time they hook their gazes.
But he knows something…and that is that he has a family, away from the one that is obviously watching him from home. He has his staff, including Soonhwan and Dongyoung at the corner, waiting for him, rubbing Vaseline on his skin just in case something goes wrong with a wound and they prepared for him, confectioned each muscle on his body to be in his best shape.
He jumps in place a few times, hearing the introductions of both the fighters and the referee, the judges themselves, as well, and his mind suddenly goes to one of the people in the crowd.
Her.
She’s there.
And somehow, that makes him feel better. It relaxes him, because while he had once thought of boxing as a game of the body, it includes the mind too. When he steps forward, face to face with Eiji as he sports that infamous grin of his, that people somehow don’t notice is far more malicious than intended, he sees himself in those eyes. They are so different, yet he can see the determination in his own features, his blonde head of hair, the preparation of his body.
And he can see that he wants to win, for all he put him through. For all she had to lose just because of him.
So, the first punch lands in the weakest point he can muster, hearing cheers from the world around him, bleeding around his ears. Taeyong’s pulse quickens and he tries to take it easy. Life is a game of poker and all his cards have been spread, but now more than ever, he wants to win. Not to be the champion, though that would be a plus, but because he caused him pain, real pain, and that’s not how this sport works.
He’s back on square one, when he had to defend the bakery against those robbers, so even when punches land on his face and body, he manages to dodge them—or some of them, really—.
Somewhere in the crowd, he’ll show her that there is nothing more she should worry about.
###
It’s time to say goodbye.
As she moves through the groups of people in the crowd, excusing herself along the way, with her heart roaring to the sound of the people around her cheering. Taeyong is doing good. Too good, and pride swells at her chest, as well as fear. She knows what Eiji is capable of, but when she sees Tori in the front row, a bottle of beer snugly kept in place by his fingers, she knows that her plan will be executed to perfection.
All Eiji wants is money and power. As long as one of the people that got in his way is killed and he gets his money, he is okay. That, along with causing Taeyong pain, is more than what he could ever ask for. It’s the kind of mentality that comes with dictators, an eye for an eye, and maybe, she’ll snatch both out if that means just getting out of this mess. Protecting him, above all, from a bullet through the chest. From what happened to Allegra because of Tori’s fucking loans.
Her hand splays on top of his shoulder, freezing when he looks at her from over his shoulder, his mussy hair falling over his now disgusting face. “Long time no see, friend.”
His surprise doesn’t last long, the corner of his lips lifting up in a smile. “Likewise.” He turns around then, jutting his chin forward. “Want to take this outside and talk?”
“I think we can talk here.” She crosses her arms across her chest, kneeling down just in case the people behind her start arguing about her position. Her eyes connect to Tori’s, a harsh sigh leaving her lips. “I know what you’ve been meaning to do and I know you work for Eiji, but I have something I want you to tell your boss.”
Tori shakes his head, trying to play dumb. “I don’t know what you’re—”
“You can take my casino. It’s all yours now. Take all the money that you will from my bank accounts, but don’t touch Taeyong. Do not lay a single finger on one of his hairs, because I’ll make sure to haunt you down if you don’t follow through.” And maybe, she’s a one-woman club, but she knows that someone like him doesn’t deserve half of the shit he has been put through. “…You can take me instead of him. Kill me. Rob me. Whatever the fuck you want to do. I will work for you if that’s what Eiji wants, but he can’t touch Taeyong. That’s my part of the business.”
Tori remains silent for a few seconds, the ring of the bell catching him out of his thoughts before he hums. “Okay, I’ll talk to the boss.” He says, tugging at her arm and placing her by his side before sighing. “This could’ve been easier if only Allegra had not decided to change her testament on the last minute, you know?”
He takes a sip of his beer and she scoffs at his words. “What do you mean?”
“I would’ve paid all my loans had she kept on her word and left everything under my name. That was the plan, killing her and paying Eiji’s family, but you had to come around and ruin it all.” The sound of his voice brings a shiver down his spice, looking down at his hands, the same ones that had killed her friend. “I gave you another chance and I was going to kill you once you got to the office, but you had to ruin everything, right? Stab me in the back and all.”
All the pain, the questioning, the mysteriousness, had all fallen down on him. How could she not have noticed? “That makes two of us.” She repeats, throwing her head back when she sees Tori stand up. “Wait, what—?”
“Come with me.” He instructs, extending his hand. “You have to leave The Jungle under my name and I’ll leave you with the Watanabe’s on the way there.”
Her eyes close tightly. There was no way of getting out of this legally, so she had to result to this. Maybe, if the world is fair, she won’t have to die today.
So, she grasps the hand of the man that killed her friend, stabbed her in the back and brought Taeyong into her life only to pluck him away at the same time, and decides to put all her hope in destiny.
Or mercy, really.
###
Eleven months later.
A beauty blender presses against his skin, cameras pointed directly to his face as he looks up at the ceiling. The makeup artist is trying to get to his dark circles, ever-present ever since he earned the title of worldwide light featherweight champion, but he is also taking this time to think. Rehearse over his lines for the interview, try not to get lost in his thoughts, feel proud of the place he finds himself in.
But he feels guilty, instead. Eleven months ago, he had been stupid enough to leave her on that crowd, on her own, gone to God-knows-where, doing God-knows-what and definitely not alive. Taeyong has perpetrated this inside his brain, that there is no way in hell she was alive. Maybe, one of Eiji’s men took her, or she tried to win a fight on her own, but he is certain of one thing: All the riches around him, the success, the life that he is living comes from the fact that she had given up something for him. To keep him safe.
They could have been great friends. Hell, maybe, if things had been different for them during that one-night stand, he would have asked for her number and they’d pose for pictures together, be the envy and the gossip of magazines, but that didn’t happen. Instead, he’s seated on a leather seat, cladded on a black turtleneck and matching pants, with his hair now dyed deep brown as the makeup artist tries to smile at him.
“Your eyes shine a lot, sir.” She says, a small giggle leaving her lips as she pushes the beauty blender away from his face.
Taeyong tries to smile, he really does, but he has heard those words before. Not from fans, not from family, but from her. Those were one of the first few conversations they had and it’s stupid of him to keep clinging to that. They weren’t Bonnie and Clyde or Romeo and Juliet. They were two fairytales, far too realistic, that interfered in each other’s stories but were never meant to end up together.
“So, I’ve heard.” Taeyong replies, but just before the makeup artist could say anything else, Dongyoung comes sprinting into the studio, trying to catch his breath as he splays his hands on his thighs. “Dongyoung, what happened?”
His nerves have been on the line ever since what happened. Always wary. Always careful. Not everyone was good, he had learned, but sometimes, the bad holds some of its past with it. The publicist lifts his gaze, waving a letter in front of him when he spits out: “You got mail. This is important.”
He has never seen Dongyoung this preoccupied, or this excited at the same time. Taeyong frowns, taking the card in between his fingers before touching the signature at the back of the envelope. That’s when his heart picks up, seeing her real name—not boss, not the nickname she used, but the one she had given him instead. The person he knew.
But no, it couldn’t be. She had to be dead.
Impatience and ignorance makes him open the envelope far too quickly, ripping it to get to the letter, signed only two weeks ago.
Dear Taeyong,
I know you probably curse at the sound of my name by now, or that you hate me. I don’t blame you. I hated me to certain extent, too. I only learned how to grow easy with myself after what I did and here I am.
How’s life? I know you won’t be able to reply to me, but from where I am—in some island that I shouldn’t be telling you about—, I get to see some glimpses of you on TV. I’m glad you’re doing great and that you’re successful. I hope you get to meet someone to be by your side in all those interviews, but that’s only if you want…you have always been whole just on your own.
I wanted to pretend I was dead. I thought it was easier for you, but it’s not easier for me. I expected to die that night I gave myself to The Redemption but no, Eiji’s family wanted me to keep working for them. They said to never communicate with you, but the more I saw you on TV as I travelled around the world, the more I hoped I would have been able to say my proper goodbyes.
I’m a mule. Not an animal, I just deliver…things around. Things I shouldn’t be talking about in a letter that your management will probably read, but I was just clarifying in case you didn’t know. I’m working for them, and it’s not easy, but it’s what had to be done. They would have killed you instead, I know they would have.
And I wouldn’t have been able to take it. Not you, Taeyong. Not the only person I had left that I could trust.
Allegra once told me that I had to start to trust people. I trusted her, I trusted Tori, but I never learned what was real trust until I met you, Taeyong. I know now what she felt…what she wanted…she only wanted be me to be safe, and I wanted the same for you.
I get a feeling only good things will come your way now that I’m not around, so hold tight. This is only the first ride to success.
Much love and all the hugs and kisses I never managed to give you.
She ends it with her name, and Taeyong has to look up to stop the tears that gathered in his vision. Still, he blinks them away, reading the letter over and over again before holding it closely to his chest. Dongyoung doesn’t take it, thankfully, and he relishes on the feeling of knowing she is okay. She is alive.
Not living the life she deserved, but breathing nonetheless.
“Are you ready, Mr. Lee?” The interviewer asks, taking a seat on the couch across from him as he looks down at his notes. “I’m a huge fan of you. I’m sure you don’t mind some extra questions.”
“I don’t.” He smiles. If there is one thing he has to do is succeed.
For him.
For his family.
For his friends.
For her, for giving the casino and her freedom away just to have him succeed.
Little does she know he would never curse her name, not when she’s the bravest person he has ever met, and that comes from someone who does boxing for a living.
#taeyong scenarios#taeyong#nct scenarios#nct#kpop scenarios#writing#taeyong angst#taeyong au#nct angst#nct au#boxer!taeyong#casino owner!reader#ok yes i watched too much creed while writing this i swear it isn't my fault lol
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Survey #344
“my whole existence is flawed”
Have you ever thought about becoming a crime scene investigator? No.
Do you think you could win on Jeopardy? Not at all.
What do you normally call your mother? (mommy, mom, mother, mum, etc.) Usually "Mom" or "Ma," sometimes "Mama."
Does your significant other complain about the way you dress? I'm single, but I would never tolerate an s/o who complained about/told me how to dress. Like bye, fuck you.
Have you ever been in an abusive relationship? Are you right now? No, thankfully.
What would you do if a stranger smacked your ass and whistled? They're getting fucking punched. In the face.
Do you know anyone who has died from cancer? Multiple people.
Ever have to call the cops on someone? Not me personally, but my sister did while I was in the car with her due to a clearly drunk as fuck driver.
Are you comfortable enough around your friends to change in front of them? Hell no, I avoid changing even in front of my mother.
Have you ever dated someone in secret? Dated, no. But Joel and I were a secret.
What’s something you really want right now, be honest? What I really want right now is a job.
What are you listening to right now? A slowed-down with reverb version of "Closer" by In This Moment. It's p hot.
Do you still have your tonsils? Yes.
What confuses you most? Why terrible things can happen to the most undeserving of people.
Have you ever been called a bad influence? Yes. Not like she was a good one whatsoever.
What's the weirdest compliment you've ever received? I don't know, really.
Have you ever thought you could 'save' someone? No. It's funny, apparently Jason thought I could "save" him, and would'ja look at that, he scarred me for life.
Do you prefer weed or cigs? I've never smoked either, but at least weed has benefits, so.
What do your parents say about smoking? Well, my dad smokes like a chimney, but he does tell my sisters and me to absolutely never start it. Mom is very firm about us not smoking. She'd probably be heartbroken if any of us started.
Do like kissing with tongue or without? I mean, that depends on the mood as well as how serious we are.
What show is hilarious to you? That '70s Show absolutely cracks me up.
Who last made you upset? My Dad and stepmom, ranting about how the Covid vaccine is being forced on us and is dangerous. I'm very much for it and am getting it myself soon, so I was just like... shut the fuck up. I just kept my lips zipped, but by god did I want to say something.
Does he/she usually upset you? I sometimes regret having my stepmom on Facebook because of her shitty political views, but she in general doesn't upset me. I love her, really. Dad doesn't upset me, really.
What would your parents do if you got a tattoo? They don't care, especially knowing how much I love them.
What is your favorite musical? None.
Do you have any interest in visiting Japan? Yeah, though I don't think it's something I'd go out of my way to do. If I had the opportunity though, I'd surely go. I would love to take photos there, and it's this odd desire of mine to visit Aokigahara Forest and just walk along the "safe" paths and just... feel it. I don't want to find any bodies because I think that would shatter me, I just want to allow myself to like, drown in empathy for all those that left their lives in those trees. I feel like I'd cry a LOT, because I'd prefer to do it alone and just talk to whoever may be able to hear from wherever they are now, and just let them know they're not forgotten or abandoned and that they were never alone. This is honestly getting me really emotional so I'm moving onto the next question. But in summary, I feel like it could honestly be a life-changing experience.
What is your favorite Japanese name? I like A LOT of Japanese names I've heard, but they're all evading me now.
Do you ever listen to Jpop? No.
Who do you go to for advice? Mom or Sara.
Have you ever ran a cash register? Yeah, when I worked at the dollar store.
Have you ever worked as a server? No.
Did you collect Bratz dolls when you were younger? I didn't collect them, no, but I shared a few with my sister.
Do you think your mom is attractive? I think my mom's beautiful. Her smile especially puts gold to shame. She actually kinda broke down the other day because she thought she was ugly, and it just broke my damn heart.
Do you like the feeling in your stomach on a big drop on a roller coaster? I've never been on a roller coaster and don't plan to try one, but I reeeaaally don't like that feeling in any situation.
What is your most severe allergy? Pollen.
How and when were you baptized, if applicable? I was baptized as a baby the traditional Catholic way.
Would you rather paint or carve a pumpkin? I think carving is more fun.
Have you ever walked through a haunted house? One that was part of a Halloween attraction, yeah.
What computer game did you used to play all the time? I played lots as a kid, but my favorite had to be I Spy: Spooky Mansion. My lil sis and I were obsessed.
How do you feel about Motorhead? I don't love them, but I do enjoy some of their songs. I never thought Lemmy was that great of a vocalist, but I respect him as an artist and hope he rests in peace.
What’s the weirdest way you’ve ever pulled a muscle? *shrugs*
What’s your favorite symbol? (i.e. the pentagram, the cross, etc.) If we're talking only real-world symbols and not ones that only exist in fantasy media, I actually think the Satanic (no, not inverted) cross is a cool design. It has nothing to do with my stance on Satanism, I just think it's an appealing look.
What methods are most effective for you when you’re trying to relax? If I REALLY need relaxation, just leave me alone and let my put on earplugs and just like, disappear from the real world for a bit.
Would you rather date your opposite, your ‘twin’, or someone in between? Someone in-between, I think. More similar to me though would be preferred versus someone that's my opposite.
How many videos do you have favorited on your YouTube account? I think I'm actually at the max? I think they just get replaced with newer ones by now.
Do you know anyone who has carpal tunnel syndrome? Me, actually. My older sister does, too, and actually had surgery for it.
Which do you prefer: M&M’s, Skittles, or Reese’s Pieces? Reese's Pieces, but I love all three.
If you could be the sidekick of a superhero which superhero would you pick? If I was Spiderman's sidekick, could I throw webs and zing around like a monkey too? ;_; I think being Batman's sidekick would be pretty cool too, seeing as to my knowledge he's more about stealth, which would be fun to go along with.
Do you think that you could ever win a food eating contest? No fucking way. They gross me the hell out.
What is your favorite thing about the country you live in? How much freedom we have here. Although, it can definitely be abused, and some people do abuse it...
Have you ever snuck somebody into your house? No.
Have you ever snuck into somebody else’s house? No.
Honestly, have you ever thrown garbage out of the window of a car? No, and you fucking repulse me if you do. It is not that challenging to hold onto your shit until you get out of the car and find a trashcan.
Honestly, have you ever stuck gum under a table or desk? No, that shit is disgusting. Just get your lazy ass up and spit it out.
Which would you find more menacing: dinosaurs or dragons? Well, considering dragons can, you know, breathe fire...
Can you name three different kinds of dinosaurs? Spinosaurus, allosaurus, stegosaurus.
What’s the name of the last person you kissed? Sara.
Is your heart broken at the moment? Nah.
Who’s the last guy you argued with? I don't know. I avoid arguing with guys to the absolute best of my ability because I'm terrified of making them mad.
What about the last girl? My mom.
Would you marry the last person you kissed? Not at this current time, but later down the road of us both building ourselves up, I possibly would.
Who’s the last person that asked you out? Girt.
Out of all of your exes, who treated you the best? Sara.
Who is the person you have hurt the most? My damn self.
Who is the person that has hurt you the most? Jason.
Do you hate the person you fell hardest for? It feels like it sometimes, but when it really comes down to it, no, I don't.
Who was the last baby you held? My niece Emerson.
Who’s the last guy to give you roses? Tyler.
Did your parents do drugs when they were younger? My dad did quite a lot before us kids were born, apparently. I can guess pretty damn easily that Mom made him cut that shit out before having my sisters and me. Mom, to my knowledge, has never tried anything at all.
Do you still talk to the person you lost your virginity to? No.
Did you cry at your high school graduation? I remember I teared up slightly.
What was the last non-papery substance you drew on? I have no idea.
Do you ever name objects? (i.e. mp3 players, guitars, cars, etc.) No.
What do you beat yourself up about the most? I'm 25 fucking years old and have never had a stable job or just felt "adult" in general.
Which has hurt you more: friendship break-ups or bf/gf break-ups? The breakup with Jason, who was my boyfriend, so.
What’s the most terrifying thing you’ve ever done? Gone to a mental hospital. The first time was so, so scary.
What’s the highest fever you’ve ever had? I don't know.
Have you ever been to the ER? Many times.
Have you ever been mistreated by a cop? No.
Have you ever experimented with any sort of witchcraft? No.
Which animals are you afraid of? Some bugs and spiders, and whale sharks are a phobia of mine. I also find giant squid to be terrifying, but also very intriguing. Oh yeah, then there's my extreme aversion to maggots and similar larvae.
Did you pray to God when you were a child? Usually. Mom raised us to, but some nights I slacked with it and just wanted to sleep.
What is your favorite flavor of frosting? Maaan, don't make me choose.
What color is your skin naturally? Very pale.
Do you own a pocketknife, or any other kind of multi-tool? No.
What was the last thing you took a video of? I have no idea. I have no recordings on my phone, so.
Have you ever been somewhere where you didn’t fluently speak the local language? No.
Have you ever had famous neighbors? No.
Do you have any medication that you keep with you at all times? Yeah, one of my anxiety meds.
What are some things a house would need to have for you to purchase it? Besides the very obvious, mine has to have a dishwasher. I. HATE. Washing dishes by hand.
Do you own a pet spider? No, but I DESPERATELY want some tarantulas. :( I've tried convincing her, but Mom's very adamant about the fact I will NOT own one so long as I live with her. I also love jumping spiders and attempted to convince her about one of those versus a tarantula, but still, answer's a firm no, haha.
Do you call your animals “baby names”? Well duh.
Have you ever been stood up? No.
Do you own a fishtank? No.
Do you like the song “Barbie Girl”? God no. I'll sing it jokingly, though, because y'know, childhood and all.
Do you own a feather boa? No. We did at one point, though. A hot pink one.
Are you allergic to peanuts? No.
Do you wear ribbons in your hair? No, my hair's too short for that. I never did, though.
Do you use cheat codes on video games? I generally only use codes that you can actually earn in the game for like, new outfits or weapons in subsequent playthroughs. I won't use the kinds of codes that make you invulnerable and stuff, but rather just fun little cosmetics and such.
Have you ever gone mudding on a fourwheeler? Ugh, no. I don't like getting dirty, so that is NOT my kind of fun.
What is your favorite flavor Jolly Rancher? Watermelon.
Have you ever played Dance Dance Revolution? Of course! We had the dance mat as kids and loved to play the games.
What is the last thing you dropped? I don't really remember.
Have you ever done the “Cupid Shuffle?” Yeah, at school dances and such.
Do you know how to do the Soulja Boy dance? Haha omg, I did as a kid. My friend, sister, and I all learned it.
How long has it been since you’ve eaten a Reese’s? My mom actually got me a Reese's egg for Easter, so not long ago at all.
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the pacific: part one, live blog because i said so
he looked so pissed when he has to make the sign of the cross to mary..... I KNOW ITS BECAUSE HES FALLING AWAY FROM HIS RELIGION but all i can think is undercover protestant????? i hate that i find myself funny stfu tom like he’s some angsty protestant like ‘this is fucking bullshit why the fuck DO THEY PRAY TO MARY’ which..... is a huge missconsperion but i’m not gonna get into that right now but hey if anyone needs an rs teacher? i got you
are you telling me i could have heard the most BEAUTIFUL monologue about the saint mary’s church and her plans for the day as well as being able to see that sweet sweet smile on vera’s face for longer but it was cut short because bobo went ‘i joined the marines’ GOOD FOR YOU BUT.....
rOBERT...... you really gonna give her THAT look...... IN GODS HOUSE is this allowed? is THIS ALLOWED???? if you don’t say it in the voice of the vine we can not be fteejssn sorry i don’t make the rules
#BOB: i wanna catholic girl that go to church AND READ HER BIBLE (is that even right??? omg i can only remember the jewish one *in the voice of ryan reynolds severely slowed down* FUUUUUCCCKKK)
on a real note this man saw her at church ONCE and his ass went finna wife up like........ take her out to dinner first. OR AT LEAST ASK HER HOW SHE IS IN THE LETTERS like we get it you’re emo, the aussie won’t shag you anymore and you keep pissing your pants. i understand it’s a hard not life or how ever that song in annie goes but bro.........(this is obviously a joke i am dumb of ass please ignore me i love you m8 and i’m sorry you’re gonna embarrass yourself in front of everyone but chuckler shifts to momma mode so you good)
can we please acknowledge jon’s acting..... sir? PHENOMENAL he’s not even saying anything??? he’s just looking at the lt yet i’m near tears
gentle reminder i love the basilones🥺🥺🥺 the way they are so supportive even though they don’t understand and they are scared for him but they accept and respect that john wants more, needs more and they’re putting their own fears aside so he can spread his wings for no better turn of phrase.
‘just get the job done, and come home to us’ the way his head falls and he has to stop his voice from breaking. i’m s fucking bitter
THE HAND HOLD MY GOD
leckie:((( look hes a bastard and he pisses me off but no matter how much i bully him i do love him a lot and the complete disregard and uncaring nature from his dad breaks my heart. a handshake then gone just like that? HIS FACE BEFORE ‘there’s a war on everybodies got to make sacrifices’ he looks so hurt and broken baby
GENE MY SWEET SWEET BABY GOD THIS SO SAD ALEXA PLAY DESPACITO. my baby just wants to do his part :( CUT THE CAMERAS DEAD ASS I WILL CRY BABY PLEASE DON’T CRY JUST WAIT A FEW MORE EPS my heart really do be looking like: <eugene3
‘gene, supper’s ready’ ma’am i’m sorry but he does not give a shit
SIDNEY MY SWEET SWEET BOY get in a pram if you’re going to be so baby. look while i love him so much and i know he didn’t mean it to be !!!!! he’s just small of brain !!! but when he says “i wish we where going together” that lowkey rubs it in man......... like he’s already heartbroken PLEASE STOP but the “yeah well you take care of yourself greaser” - “you don’t have to worry about me” IM SOFT🥺
“wOWoWOoOOO COME ON GUYS I WORKED HARD FOR THESE ORANGES”
“guadal...kenel...guadal BLEEHHH” didn’t realise hoos was recreating the audience of my english speaking exam. LOOK I REALISE NOW TALKING ABOUT STOICISM TO A BUNCH OF 15 YEAR OLDS WHO DON’T CARE WAS A BAD IDEA BUT I GOT A DESTINCTION SO FUCK YOU TO THAT ONE KID
chuckler baby..... i’m in love with a dumbass. also the hit across the head. i’m soft (lads lets take a shot every time i say i’m soft in this liveblog ITS GONNA BE A FUN NIGHT jk drink responsibly and all that jazz or be dick winters that’s cool too!! heck do a babe heffron and get yourself a caprisun you deserve it)
“professor leckie” please don’t fuel his ego HE DOES NOT NEED IT
HOLD UP I NEED TO SWITCH FROM THE TV TO MY LAPTOP TO SCREEN CAP THIS SHIT LEW MY SON HAVE YOU BEEN BITING INTO AN ORANGE LIKE IT IS AN APPLE??? I WOULD BE MAD BUT HE LOOKS SO CUTE on a real note though can you eat the skin???? will he be okay?????
okay two hoos things: 1.) he looks SO DONE and i’m living for it 2.) can we talk about jacobs nose..... IM DYING TO TALK ABOUT JACOBS NOSE
okay the boats scene give me saving private ryan flashbacks i came out here to have a good time AND I AM NOT HAVING A GOOD TIME oh wait never mind runner just went ‘i could really use a stiff one right now’ i hate that but he saved the day with his dumbassery so thank you good sir i love you with all my heart
fun fact my how co ranking goes chuckler, runner, hoos, leckie
OH FUCK I FORGOT SID SJAKSJSJ y’know for someone who talks about how much they love sid i forget about him a lot. thank you for blessing my screen with your pretty face it helped me remember you exist LMAO guys my memory is not okay i’m actually concerned...... but more importantly i’d put him between hoos and leckie in the ranking :,)
call it what it is. babyism. y’all better stop before i cuddle you LOOK AT THIS SHIT THEY’RE ADORABLE
runner is the only bitch i respect in this house he’s so fucking funny
‘they’ve? poisoned? a? billion?! coconuts?’ that poor son of a bitch BLESS HIM don’t shoot the messenger okay? he seems like a sweet bean
that shot of hoos, leckie and chuckler looking down at the camera into the bunker? my sexuality. my left brain: tomas stop thirsting it’s an intense and serious show. my righ brain: but?? they’re pretty?? me nodding smugly and in agreement: BUT THEY’RE PRETTY.
THIS MAN AND HIS GUM I CAN’T why is that me. i am the gum man at my school that sounds so weird ajsksjsj i just always have gum. ALSO spearmint is superior to normal mint. NORMAL MINT BURNS LIKE ITS SPICY BRO. bubblemint is superior superior but that’s more expensive rip😭😭😭😭😭😭
‘it’s like the fourth of july’ nice to my boy sufjan getting some rep he is king of the gays after all mr i can’t explain the state that i’m in the state of my heart he was my best friend. we all owe him EVERY parallel on this goddamn app. jk there’s one other king of the gays and that is demon! shane (bfu). no this is not up for debate
the shot of the ships is phenomenal. that’s one thing i do have to credit hbo on. the special effects and cinematography are beautiful and so fucking impressive like???
‘we’re killing them’ - ‘where’s the navy?’ / ‘gone we lost four cruisers’ GOD I HAVE SUCH A LOVE HATE RELATIONSHIP FOR FORSHADOWING LIKE SOMETIMES ITS SO SEXY AND OTHER TIMES IM LIKE PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD GO AWAY
WHY DOES SID LOOK OVER HIS SHOLDER BEFORE TAKING THE WINE SIR NO ONE IS GONNA TELL YOU OFF AT WAR FOR DRINKING UNDERAGE like???? i don’t think an 18 year old having a swig is their biggest problem bless his heart
‘can’t fight em drunk don’t fight em at all’
bill if you are reading this i’m free on thursday night and would like to hang out. please respond to this and then hang out with me on thursday night, when i am free😌😘🥰😳🥺👉👈😤💘💓🙄🥴
FUCK I FORGOT HOW LOUD THE GUN SHOTS WHERE THINK I JUST WOKE THE WHOLE NEIGHBOURHOOD JC
‘skipper? skipper are you okay?? goddamnit he’s lost it come on’ :(((((
god the shots in this show really are phenomenal. i know it’s very gory and very hard to watch at times but it definitely has the best shots of the three en mi opinion. i’m a slut for the close up of dick screaming ‘move out’ with rounds flying. like who’s ever call that was? outstanding but like that’s just one? the pacific has so many emotive and excellently shot scenes.
JOG ON. STOP. IM SO SOFT IM GOING TO CRY THIS IS NOT OKAY. MOMMA CHUCKLER I CAN’T🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
how seemlessly the scenes flow one after the other despite being opposite ends of the spectrum i DID NOT GIVE TP ENOUGH CREDIT like yeah it makes me sad as fuck but from a production point of view the writing? the acting? the cinematography? DAMN
how visibly torn and pissed off hoosier looks over the other marines tormenting the japanese soldier, stringing out his death when he’s obviously in a lot of mental as well as physical pain? the only bitch i respect in this house.
okay so like? while the shot is scarring both for him and the audience to see that kind of effortless murder it was the right thing to do? it’s better then have him be tormented and it will help leckie in the long run? how broken he looks though? like the distance is his eye and the way he swollows....... WHO IS CUTTING ONIONS HUH???? brilliant james BRILLIANT
the way i just said ‘if biology would have permitted it i would be asking you to have my babies’ at the sight of a man shoving smokes up his nose....... now ladies theyzies and gents, a prime reason to show why you should do your work. this is tom. tom didn’t do his work. with nothing to do all day tom became bat shit..... don’t be like tom. okay like it is cute though COME ON
HOW PROUD AND SMUG AND HAPPY HE LOOKS AT HIS PREMOTION ‘yes ma’am i am a corporal’ HE IS SO BABY AND FOR WHAT. oops sorry lads looks like i dropped this:
the shot of leckie swimming in the water fading off to the shot of the dead bodies mirroring his movement but obviously a life less version OOOH IMMA SUE
god love me some men with black lungs LECKIE DO BE LOOKING GOOD LIGHTING THAT CIG DAMN
“i have a girlfriend lucky me” HOOS IS LIKE MY GAY ASS YOU SURE????
“you guys step aside the real marines are here now” “AND I’VE BEEN HERE FOR SOME TIME” that shuts iconic even i said wahayyyy
also runner..... i am looking RESPECTFULLY👁👁
you’re not special leckie we all want hoosier
sister👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀
baby gene :,( YOU GINGER LIL BEBE I LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH
can you really call yourself a hbo war an if you don’t sing along at the end... ITS A TUNE also hoos’ voice...... its about the drawl.......
#god ive missed these idiots#im so glad i rewatched#im a bit scared for the rollercoaster that is the rest of the series however asjsksjks#enjoy me being an idiot#thank you to the beauties that told me how to do the keep reading thing you da best xxxx#the pacific#hbo war#eugene sledge#bill hoosier smith#lew chuckler juergens#robert leckie#sidney phillips#wilbur runner conley#john basilone
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Cigars and Whiskey (Cu Alter, Rin)
The moment she had seen him, it had been in a haze of smoke.
She was here to find her boss’ boss. She was here to be watching over the man that her aunt Ishtar had a crush on. She was supposed to be here to make sure that the man didn’t meet up with his date. Sit in the musky place and make sure to ruin his time.
That hadn’t been what had happened.
Her body had bumped against a man taller than was natural. She had looked up at the bright and large teeth, the bulging muscles bringing a bile taste to her mouth. She had felt herself paling, hearing the man say she wasn’t on the list of regulars.
The bouncer’s hands had reached for her when she had felt him.
An arm wrapped around her waist. A cigar was set in her hands.
“She’s with me.”
The gruff voice had her pausing. Her eyes drifted up to pause on the red tattoos and the blood colored eyes. Her hand almost dropped the cigar, her taste of bile going straight back down to the pits of her stomach.
The sharp teeth and fierce frown on the man’s face had her shivering. The man glanced to the bouncer and motioned him off.
“I’ve got my tail, Sparti. Go watch the door,” her savior- no, her capturer told the man. The large beast of a man stared down at him.
The smoke blew forth from her capturer.
The other shivered.
What kind of man was holding her, to make a man that terrifying and tall shiver and pull away? Had she been saved at all? Was she in worse shape?
I hate you so much, Ishtar.
Rin didn’t dare to breathe. She didn’t dare to do a damn thing, just settling for holding the cigar and waiting.
The man at her side had things in mind though.
She could feel his arm pulling her in, like a tide bringing her deeper and deeper into the waters. Rin found herself delving beneath the surface of this strange and dark world. The seat under her was so slick. The table was too isolated, only revealing itself to the stage.
“You’re long from home,” the man told her, setting a glass before her.
“I-I normally visit places like this,” she tried.
He raised a brow, bringing her to her senses a bit.
“It’s true.”
She brought the cigar to her lips, breathing in only to cough a little.
Her hands went to the glass nearest to her, the taste of straight whiskey hitting her and making the matter worse.
“Yeah, a natural,” he replied.
The man waved down someone, although how he did she would never know.
“A glass of somethin’ red and sweet.”
“I’m fine with this.” She held up the whiskey, earning a laugh.
“You’re growin’ chest hair?”
“No, I’m tougher than you think.”
Tattoo Eyes grinned, laughing a little. “Yeah, I could tell. You were about to beat ol’ Sparti with your heart after a minute back there. Poor guy didn’t stand a chance.”
“No, he didn’t.”
She tried the cigar and whiskey thing again, coughing.
Stupid bad habits.
“You’re doin’ it wrong,” the man murmured, moving into the booth once more. “Drink a sip of the whiskey, but don’t swallow.”
Rin stared at him as she did.
“Swirl it around in your mouth. Taste the triple distilled taste,” he bid.
She nodded.
“Keep going,” he bid, pulling her up to his hip, wrapping his arm around her and taking a drag of his cigar. She could see the puffs, the strange circles coming forth as he blew out the smoke into the air.
He watched her, leaning in.
“Swallow.”
There was no need for a second command, she swallowed it down, still tasting it on her lips and-
“Breathe in the drag carefully,” he purred now. “Do it like the whiskey, keep it in your mouth, tasting the flavor of the brand.”
It was hard, harder than she would have liked to admit. She puffed her cheeks, blowing out the air over the table.
“Did you take the hint of oak? The slight hint of cedar?”
“It was… Nothing new.”
He laughed, that harsh face of his softening at the edges as he did.
“You’re a bad liar,” he murmured. “You’re lucky you’re cute, princess.”
“Excuse me?”
She took the cigar back, breathing in another drag before she blew it into his face.
He smirked, closing his eyes until the smoke had passed.
“Don’t underestimate me. I’m more than some doe-y eyed damsel in distress. I’m not needing to be cooed and set on some pedestal like some princess in a tower.”
“Oh?”
She nodded.
Her wine came, the glass being shifted to her.
“Then drink and wait here.”
He stood up, heading over to the stage.
His lips bloomed forth a sound her eyes and her ears couldn’t even begin to appreciate enough. The saxophone gleamed in his hands. She continued to smoke his cigar, forgoing the wine until the whiskey was gone. Her fur mantel felt too hot. She dropped it, letting her dress show.
The smoke blocked her view as she sat there. She couldn’t see enough. She couldn’t appreciate enough. The brassy tones of the saxophone in his hands filled the room, leaving her leaning forward.
Tattoo Eyes Saxophone Man was no good.
The suit said money. The face said danger. The sultry eyes drifted to her, watching her as she lived off that sultry energy. The longer she sat there, the more she noticed.
The red tattoos peeked out of his shirt. The hands on his instrument were moving with an experience that left her wondering what else he did. The dark blue hair was slicked back, staying out of his face save for those hints of bangs.
It wasn’t until he came back that she realized.
Her lips pressed to his.
The cigar in her hands was assisted to the ashtray by the man, his hands delving into her hair.
“Come back with me, Cig Girl.”
“Where?” she breathed.
“I have a room a block over. Third floor. I’ll carry your dainty ass up to my room.”
Her hand brushed through his hair.
“I shouldn’t,” she breathed.
“Your place?”
She shouldn’t…
She had to work in a day. She should be going in in the morning. She needed to get some things done and not be…
Not be…
You can go, can’t you, Rin? Ishtar had asked before. It isn’t like you even have anyone you even like as more than a coworker.
“I see a yes.”
“My place,” Rin purred.
The man pulled her along with him from the booth.
Rin glanced around at the musky place, the low lights and the reflection of the stage lights giving the room an almost haunting quality. She could see someone in the corner, the blond holding a brunette’s face in his hand as he kissed her.
He seemed familiar-
“Come on,” her dangerous friend purred, bringing a heat to her face.
His hands moved on their own as they crossed the threshold of her place. The zipper on her back slid over her skin, bringing a shiver down her back. The red fabric was falling, joined by the button up and the pants.
The red tattoos seemed to swirl over dark blue chest hair and packed muscle. A pair of lips pressed to hers. A pair of hands laced with hers.
She could feel herself fall to the bed.
She could feel his hands running over her legs, bringing them up a moment before he was pressing warm lips to her thighs.
The lights of the city below seemed to illuminate his body as they found one anoher. Her eyes closed as something hard and long pressed to her center. Her companion breathed the words she hadn’t realized she’d needed to hear for so long.
“Please,” she breathed.
Morning light came so much later.
Rin could hear her front door, the sound of heels clicking on the floors and bringing a drumming sound to her ears.
“RIN!” Ishtar’s voice called through the place. “Rin! Where’re you at? The doorman said you were here!”
Rin stirred quietly, feeling an arm drape over her and pull her back against a warm chest. The kiss to her temple had her pause, eyes opening wide.
Shit!
“RIN!” Ishtar’s voice came a second before the door opened.
The woman stared over at them, her ruby red lips parting into the largest gape she’d ever seen.
“…You have company…”
“The goddess and I were sleeping,” Tattoos told her, his arm holding her close. “You can come back later, can’t ya?”
Ishtar just stared.
The process of speaking- or even thinking- was gone. Every inch of her was aware of the hard male pressed against her body. The memories of her stupid smoking and drinking coming to mind as Ishtar looked between the two of them for some kind of explanation.
“…So… You didn’t keep track of my boss for me?”
Her bo-
Oh.
The memory of the blond guy the night before came to mind, but Rin found herself rolled to her back. Her companion leaned over her, pressing his lips to hers.
The room went up in temperature. She could feel the end coming soon, her body continuing to fail to function as her mind went on vacation. He was good, good in a way that made the heart stutter away and the gears of her mind mash together in a mess of steam and noise.
“I’ll… I’ll just… come back later…”
Ishtar motioned herself out, slamming the door a second before Tattoos grinned at her.
“My name is Cu Chulainn, by the way, Princess. I get called Alter since my siblings look like me.”
“Alter?”
“Like the negative lookin’ version.”
Rin lowered her gaze to his chest, tracing the pattern of the man’s chest lightly.
No Ishtar.
No work.
No nagging feelings of guilt brought about by her aunt trying to make her feel bad for her lowly position in the company…
“You’re not bad, CuZilla.”
The sharp teeth gleamed as he grinned at her, his mouth closing enough to pucker up for another kiss.
It felt good to be bad for once.
It felt really good.
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8, 9, 16, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 25, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 34, 35, 36, 40, 41, 42, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 50, 53, 55, 57, 58, 59, 62, 64, 65, 70 (aside from Kagami 😂), 71, 72, 79, 82, 86, 87, 90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99 for the "Asks, why not" thing please? (Omg that's soo much, I'm sorry I got carried away ^^')
8) Your looks (add a picture or describe yourself)
Average height, bordering on short. Broad shoulders, thick arms and thighs, square face, slightly projecting ears (one pierced, one with a stretched lobe), bushy arched brows, thick square glasses, faded dark red hair, dark brown eyes, butt chin. I look pale and perpetually sleep deprived.
9) What do you/did you study?
I was in a teacher’s training program for English and Hungarian language and literature, and I’m planning to go back to school to study sociology!
16) What do you look for in a SO?
Consciously: understanding, fun, sweet, kind and accepting. Unconsciously: somewhat broken and in dire need of emotional help which I’m desperate to provide lmao.
19) Do you prefer serious and meaningful relationships or casual dating/one night stands?
Eh, u know, it depends? I don’t think I’m fit for a serious relationship right now, so I’d prefer casual stuff atm, but on the long run I do want a partner to share my life with.
20) What are your deal breakers?
Really obnoxious people, ignorance and bigotry I guess. And I’m not keen on someone pushing or disrespecting my boundaries, either.
21) How was your day?
It was good!! My bro, his girlfriend and my friend tagged along to get our (me and my soon-to-be sis-in-law’s) ears pierced, and then my friend and I got a loot of food. I didn’t exactly feel good enough abt myself to be comfortable outside, but I got a lot of random kindness and that was Nice.
22) Favourite food & drink
Food: teriyaki chicken and seafood pasta, drink: ginger ale and iced coffee
23) What position do you sleep in?
I sleep half-curled up on my side, but I need to toss and turn a little until I find The Best Position.
25) Your fears
The dark, needles, rabbits (I don’t even know, dude), the fact that I’ll die without having made an impact on the world, being spoken about behind my back, being a bad influence on my friends.
28) Any pets?
Not right now! I used to have two rottweilers around the house growing up, but they both passed away sadly.
29) What are your hobbies?
Writing, sketching, basketball, getting on people’s nerves, researching typology, watchin movies idk?
31) What was your last awkward situation?
Asjhdh the ticket control guy told me to “Have a safe trip” and I said “You too!”. This rarely happens to me tho
32) What is your last regret?
Not holding my friend’s hand on public transport. It was…right…there….and she already told me she’s more than comfortable with physical touch! I’m a fool! Everyone thinks I hate touching but I don’t! I’m just shy!
34) Do you believe in astrological stuff? (Zodiac, tarot, etc.)
Ehh. Kind of? As for believing, I believe more in ghosts, but I do see some patterns in different signs. I just try not to let it affect the way I see/interact with a person, because no one deserves to be prejudiced for whatever reason, especially not their date of birth. Tarot is just fun, and the cards r cool
35) Have any quirks?
I bite the skin on my fingers, scratch my acne, make my knees jump… most of it is just regular anxiety stuff tho so idk?? I do think I’m quirky, but there’s just too much weird stuff to list ‘em.
36) Your pet peeves
Cig/booze stink on a person, customers being rude, bigotry, interrupting other people… There’s quite some things that annoy me asjdgd
40) Last 5 things from your search history
Boku No Hero Academia, Hawks, duck emoji, Grumman fma, How To Train Your Dragon
41) What’s your device backgrounds?
My phone lockscreen rn is a beautiful KagaKuro fanart of them standing in the rain in yukatas, Kagami looming over Kuroko and shielding him from the rain and Kuroko reaching up to stroke his face; my phone background is an art of they/them pronouns tattooed on someone’s knuckles, their posture unsure; my laptop background is a screenshot from the movie Déva, of blue skies and a street lamp.
42) What do you daydream about?
…cu..cuddling,,my…crush……..
44) What's your religion/Your thought about religion
Short version: barf
Long version: I was raised catholic (even tho I was never baptized), and attended catholic school for 8 years which gave me a really warped idea of Christianity, Which made me a cynic & an agnostic or atheist by proxy. I harshly criticize the catholic church and faith but sometimes… when I do feel hopeless I get down on my knees and pray, so I guess if I let myself find my own faith I’d be a believer. But right now, I’m good just existing in my nihilistic bubble
45) Your personality type
Needy imeanwhat. In a typological sense, I’m an INFP in Myers-Briggs, 4 core 5 wing in Enneagram, melancholic or sanguine in the temperaments, et cetera. Basically I’m a sad daydreamer with unresolved issues and a need to do Art
47) Are you happy with your current life?
Nah bro. I like my friends and my workplace but I’d like to move out of home ASAP. I’d also… like to get therapy before I go and put myself out there.
48) Some things you've tried in your life
Playing the guitar, hostess work, weed, cigarettes, being blackout drunk, smoking from a hookah, cooking, football, handball, basketball, volleyball, cycling, sailing, driving, hitchhiking long distances, folk dancing, one-night stands, long-distance relationships, helping people in need…
50) Favourite colour to wear?
Olive green, midnight/navy blue, white, grey and black.
53) If you could change/add something to your appearance - impossible or not - what would it be?
I’d… like to know how it would feel if I had a flat chest and a penis? I also want bigger Guns, and Abs, some more tattoos and maybe an eyebrow piercing.
55) Do you get complimented often?
I think so? I usually brush off compliments uhhh but yeah maybe! Maybe idk
58) Songs you're currently obsessed with?
My friend’s playlist reminded me that ‘Phenomenon’ by Thousand Foot Krutch exists. I’m also really into ‘San Francisco’ by The Mowgli’s atm and ‘Golden Time Lover’ by Sukima Switch!
59) Song you normally wouldn't admit you like.
I mean, it’s not like it’s cringe or anything, I hate cringe culture BUT. I do have Ariana Grande’s ‘Side to Side’ stuck in my head rn
64) Can you sing or play any instruments?
I can sing pretty badly, play a bad tune on my guitar, drum on the edge of my table, so- Nah not really asdh
65) Do you like karaoke?
YES VERY MUCH I live and die for karaoke, last time I did it in front of an audience we sung the Shaman King opening at an anime con with friends, it was Rad
70) Your fictional crush/es
AH NO FUN Kagami’s my number one,,, let’s see then: Aomine, Roy Mustang, Kise, Mikoto Suoh, Hotch & Reid from Criminal Minds, Yagami Light, Jaime Lannister and Brienne from GoT, Rustin Cohle from True Detective, Shizuo Heiwajima from Durarara!!!, why is this list full of men I didn’t think I liked men this much
71) Which fictional character is you?
Eddie Brock from Venom I mean? He’s a whole ass mess.
79) How much time do you spend on the internet?
Yike. More than I’d be proud of.
86) Would you use death note, if you had one?
No way dude. I don’t fuck with that shit, karma would fuck me right back.
87) What changes would you make in the world, no matter how impossible, if you had the power to?
I’d eliminate money and power and just make it a huge peaceful hippie community or something idk
90) What would you want to happen to you after your death?
Donate me to a medical school I don’t care. Make use of me! I’m gonna be dead, I won’t have any more feelings left to be hurt or anything asdghdsg
91) If you had to change your name, what would be your pick?
I’ve had a name in mind that I tried out once, but it didn’t really work out for me after all. I’m fine with Vee and Vic rn. Anything that isn’t my given name. I do want to change my surname to my mother’s, but if I do that I also want to give myself a different first name, and since That isn’t figured out yet, I’m just?? Call me whatever dude
94) Write 3 things about yourself - only one of them must be true
Ugh, I’m bad at these. 1) I have plenty of moles. 2) My eyesight is pretty good. 3) I’ve broken some bones before.
95) Cold or hot?
Cold in beverage, hot in weather.
96) Be a hero or be a villain?
Being a villain is way too much fun, but I have too strong of a conscience to pull that off, so… hero, I guess.
97) Sing everything you want to say or rhyme?
Asjhdf singing is funnier and more annoying, since I Cannot Sing
98) Shapeshifting or controlling time?
Dude I’m non-binary. Shapeshifting for Sure
99) Be immortal or be immune to everything aside from natural death?
Aight I’ll give in – I agree to immortality Just This Once.
#this was LONG as FUK#ask and i shall answer#i kindly skipped those i've already answered ^^'#thank u buddy!!!#meiyanaalexia#i didn't think i'd get too real with this but here i am
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SUGAR
CHAPTER 2
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Series Masterlist
wc: 2011
(This chapter has to do with Gwen Stacy’s band, click here for a playlist of the set I put together even though only two songs are mentioned below)
--
The Fringe Cafe was in the middle of the city. A cool hipster coffee shop by day and a seedy alternative Bar by night. It was a regular gig for the Mary Janes. The band was front-lined by an old friend from high school, Michelle Jones-who wrote the small amount of original songs among their cover sets, and Gwen was on the drums. The rest of the band accrued through flyer’s they posted all over the city and was what they could get from the less than enthusiastic response to join their band. Over all they were pretty decent, the Fringe was a regular gig and even presented them as headliners.
They practiced during the in between hours when the cafe staff cleaned and left for the day and the bar crew came to set up. The stage was small, so there was only room for Gwen’s beast of a secondhand drum set and the rest of the band set up on the floor. It was kind of their thing to get up in the crowds faces when they jammed, it was great discounting the occasional grope a middle aged man tried to sneak in every other song. Michelle handled that pretty well, managing to break a finger in between chord variations.
Gwen breezed through the back door, yanking the orange cap off her head, shedding her jacket and bag on the retro black and white tiled floor, “sorry I’m late guys, I got held up.”
Michelle tapped the mic, providing ear shrilling feedback, Gwen grimaced, Michelle smirked, “what the hell are you wearing Stacy.”
The blonde looked down at her pressed creamy white blouse and navy flared corduroy pants, her black slip on docs the only thing adding back the substance the blouse and tartan headband took away, “I told you, I got held up, I didn’t even have time to change.”
Vinny on the bass snickered, “pop a few buttons at least,” earning a smack on the back of his head by their lead guitarist Margo.
Rolling her eyes, Gwen loosened the top three buttons on her blouse and tied the front, her (not quite natural purple shampooed) light blonde hair fell to her shoulders out of the tight ponytail she kept it in all morning, and reapplied a coat of cherry lip gloss to her lips. The set list laid out on one of the round empty tables by the stage and she took a long look at it before settling behind her drum set. Sound check had already been gone through during her absence and Gwen didn’t need a mic tonight, she gave the ready to Michelle who counted off for the first song, which was a cover of Harvard by Diet Cig.
When Gwen played the drums, it was a stress reliever, better than any drug. Pounding out all the doubt of her achievements, the uncertainty of success, her loneliness, all of it. By the end of a set Gwen would be on a surge of dopamine.
They finished the practice and took a break as patrons began to filtering through and getting drinks. Michelle was yet to turn 21 and Gwen didn’t particularly enjoy drinking, so they sat on the stage nursing glasses of cola. Vinny stood at the bar chatting up a pink haired twink and Margo was off in the back alley way taking a smoke.
“I finally nailed that gig at the Cherry Pit,” Michelle took a proud swig of her soda. “It’s an opening act for some emo pop group called ANGELCAKE or whatever but it’s an act nonetheless.”
Gwen grinned and tipped her glass, “kudos to you, we’ve been trying to get an in on that place for months. You’ve got a set of iron balls Michelle, I would’ve given up by now.”
The girl next to her smirked smugly and stood, “I’m gonna go to the ladies before we start, watch the tools?” Gwen agreed and finished off her drink, mounting the stage to fiddle with a loose screw they missed setting up.
“The Mary Janes huh?” A familiar voice rose above the drunken chatter, “didn’t peg you for a girl band.”
She spun, meeting a pair of deep blue eyes and a wide set of perfect teeth, “Harry!” Suddenly she lost the ability to breath, all too aware of the tastefully dressed billionaire's son in front of her, and the midriff accompanied with her cleavage on display in the same blouse she introduced herself in earlier that day, “oh my god, what is Harry Osborne doing here of all places?” She itched to button her shirt, but knew it would only draw his attention.
An amused smile played on his lips, “you, surprisingly. I asked around and was told by your roommate Sam I’d find you here.”
“Oh,” she squeaked, noting to give Samantha an earful when she got home. “Uh yeah, started playing drums in band class and upgraded to this after I graduated. My friend MJ and I always wanted to and here we are I guess.”
“MJ? Mary Jane?” Harry thought he had made a connection and Gwen was bemused.
“No, Michelle Jones, but it’s quite a coincidence,” she gestured at the instruments. “Are you staying for the show? The set starts in a few minutes and it’ll maybe only last 25 minutes long, I mean if you can stand a little punk music.”
He slid off his designer jacket and threw it on the floor next to what he recognized to be Gwen’s puffer, “I think I’ll manage.”
Michelle appeared from behind Harry and googled at him, Gwen grinned, “great, looks like we’re about to start.”
“I wouldn’t stand at the front if I were you,” Michelle piped, swinging her electric over her shoulder.
Vinny left his boyfriend for the night at the bar and Margo slouched in place, the smell of cigarette smoke coming off her in waves. Michelle introduced them as the ‘Fabulous and Marvelous Mary Janes’ and Gwen started the count off with a few hard hits of her sticks. Through the rowdy crowd, she made eye contact with Harry, who stood toward the middle in his own little pocket, eyes lit up as he watched her play. She gave him a daring smile and he winked, luckily her face was already red from how hard she played. The drums were like an extension of herself, her body seemed to respond to them naturally, like she knew all the right places to hit and create the perfect clash of acoustic. To Gwen, it was her art.
Half way through the set, Gwen noticed Peter in the back corner when she looked up to wipe the sweat from her eyes. He gave her his signature boyish grin and she beamed. It was only by occasion since the start of the school year that Peter would pop by her gigs, at least that was what she thought. He would take breaks to listen outside for a couple minutes during his rounds for every gig she had, tonight he decided to make a personal appearance after listening to how she felt apart from him lately, in fact he was pretty excited to see her play. It had been a while since the last time.
They finished off the set with a modern punk version of Don’t You(Forget About Me) by the Police, out of breath and drenched in sweat. Gwen untied the tartan fabric headband and used it to wipe the perspiration off her forehead and dabbed it along her chest, army shaky and weak. Two boys came to greet her; the Prince and the Pauper.
Peter went straight for Gwen once she rounded the drums to the edge of the stage, giving her a tight squeeze and disregarding how damp she was, Harry looked on from a distance, “that was so great! I forget how amazing you are with those beats!”
Harry stepped forward when Peter let go, eyes darting between the two, “you guys sounded great Gwen, I wish I’d seen it sooner.” The two men scrutinized each other and Gwen made the first move.
“Uh, Harry Osborne, this is Peter,” she gestured to her long time friend.
Peter caught on and held his hand out to shake and Harry put forth, squeezing his hand back a little two hard, “boyfriend?”
“NO!” Gwen and Peter mirrored each other, bright red and flustered at Harry’s assumption. “No,” Gwen continued, “just good friends, we’ve known each other since high school, Michelle too who you met kind of already.”
“Oh I apologize,” he laughed it off and Peter hinted at the relief in his composure. “Well it’s late, and my driver should be around here soon…”he trailed off.
Nervously Gwen held her hand out, “let me give you my number, in-in case you wanna come to any more gigs, I can get you the details without you having to search for me.”
Harry looked delighted as he gave the disheveled blonde his phone, unaware of the harsh glare Peter directed toward him, “great! Great, it was nice to see you, I’m glad I came. I’ll be in touch,” he mused and nodded in Peter’s direction before weaving his way out to the door.
Peter felt uneasy, “didn’t think you had the guts to invite him to your gig Gwennie.”
“I didn’t,” she let out all the breath trapped in her lungs. “He just showed up, said he asked around for me-I’m gonna beat Samantha to a pulp when I get home.”
He chuckled, swinging his keys around on his finger, “need a lift? Subway’s kind of dangerous this time of night.”
“Yeah, let me grab my bag,” she muttered and struggled to untie the knot in her shirt.
Peter huffed and swatted her sweaty fingers away, tugging at the fabric himself and Gwen along with it in a few stumbly steps. She held her breath again with Peter being in such close proximity, heat rolled off his fingers onto the skin of her stomach and up close she could see every individual eyelash as he looked down. The blouse jerked free from its tangle and he did up the last couple buttons where he untied, leaving the top ones for Gwen to handle, his blush hidden by the red stage lighting in the room.
“I’ll be by the door,” he gestured with his keys and maneuvered his way to the entrance.
Things scooped in hand and ears fully covered, Peter and Gwen hopped in the beat up pumpkin colored Chevy low rider Peter saved up for their Senior year, it was as orange as her knit cap. The radio played low, a classic rock tape Peter made drifted through the silence. It was surprisingly quiet for the city tonight.
Gwen leaned her head against the glass, eyes closed, the back of her head tilted back against the headrest. At an intersection Peter looked over and observed her, the smoothness of her fair skin, how the stoplight reflected off of it and gave her a blushed glow. Her lips, pink and parted with the remnant of lip gloss sweated off earlier in the evening smudged across the corners. He reached over and it came off easily with his thumb. Before he could replace his hand on the wheel, Gwen reached up and grasped it firmly in her hands, then placed them in her lap. He chuckled, aware she was fully passed out, but he wouldn’t miss a golden opportunity to be held in her hands. So he kept it there as the light turned green, steering with his left until he got to her apartment and ruefully had to tug his hand away. He watched her for a few quiet moments, listened to her take in a breath and went around to the other side of the truck to carry her up the stairs without waking her. Tucked in her blankets, Peter took one more second to look at her face, so calm and beautiful. He placed a kiss on her forehead and decided to call it a night.
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(A/N): THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! Again I am super excited to duke this series and lay out all the crazy plot twists and love triangles that comes with a good fanfic, I hope you enjoyed! (If you wanna check out more of my writing, click here!)
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seasonal changes.
you can infer most of the plot by this little excerpt. it's a sneak peek to something i'm writing!
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Intrepid oculars leered ahead, catching brief sight of the flurries surrounding and encompassing the male's relatively diminutive-statured build. A soft, yet disgruntled suspire is exhaled from parted margins, the breath transmuting into mere steam in the frost-bitten air. Shaky palms momentarily appear out of denim pockets, maneuvering around to then place a singular nicotine-filled cigarette between his index digit and middle finger, his left thumb configuring his lighter before setting the cig' aflame.
“Gavin, you'll show signs of hypothermia if you stay out here much longer,“ His shitty partner comments, slamming the vehicle's door behind him before meandering close to the human. Gavin merely scoffs, his lips wrapping around the delicious cancer stick, inhaling and feeling the burning smoke go deep into his lungs. Exhale.
Cue a snicker emitted from the short-statured male. “Maybe that's the point, tin-can.“
“Are you remarking or hinting at possible suicidal tendencies?“ The android tilts its cranium to the side in a curious manner. “If so, then I am oblogated to report it to Captain Fowl--“
“Nah, nah, geez. Calm yer tits, wires. I'm not Hank. Just a comment, y'know?“ Gavin can't help but roll his hues in irritation at the thing; it can't even tell the difference between sarcasm and actual statements. For a machine that was supposed to be extremely intelligent, it wasn't street smart. “Looks like Christmas came early this year, eh?“
Gavin's cerulean irises breeze over the area below him, glancing over the cliff to see the numerous amounts of Thirium splattered around the perimeter, easily detectible due to the snow. “An android bloodbath, who woulda thought?“
Though it was quick, Gavin notices the android's LED spin a bright red hue before switching back to yellow. Peculiar.
Silence between the two. Gavin feels the need to speak, and fill the air with something besides the snow around them. And so, he does.
“Y'know, snow reminds me of my family. We'd always go 'round the block to the house with the biggest hill,“ Another puff of smoke in-between sentences. Gavin has a brief internal query that the machine isn't listening, and a look to his right shows that its head, in fact, was reared towards him in a listening manner. Good. “Then, we'd use those lil' pans that you make cookies on---you know what I'm talking about?--and sit on them, sliding down the hill on the snow. We'd even have races. I'd win that shit all the time. My big bro wouldn't even try, but he made it seem like he was trying, y'know? Like, just for my sake. The good ol' day--“
“You never speak about your siblings. May I ask why?“
The male turns to it, his eyebrows furrowed both with confusion and frustration. He wasn't expecting the android to be... curious about his life. Probably just to gain more information about him. Oh well. Gavin's arms wrap around himself, his arms covered in goosebumps rising upon his skin as he struggles to ignore the cold.
“I, uh,“ Gavin struggles to recover from his ephemeral bewilderment, his free hand scratching the back of his neck, “well, my bro kinda... disappeared a while back? Sort of. I do have a lil' sister, though. Her name is Charlotte. She's in her teens now, I think--- the little phckin' gremlin...“
If Gavin was paying much attention, he would have caught the corners of the android's lips curling upwards slightly, in a soft smile.
Though, occuring right after that small action, Gavin is looking off to his left, and all he feels is a sudden weight on his shoulders. He almost jumps at it, before his optics glance at his body to examine it quickly--- oh. It's the android's jacket. It practically swallows him.
“You were shivering, Detective.“
Gavin began discerning and identifying a feeling of warmth spreading across his cheeks, possibly coating it with a faint tint of rose. Internally, he hopes that the machine won't notice his little spat of embarrassment there, and that his cheeks are only blushing from the cold. His free hand grips one side of the open jacket, pulling it closer to himself. He murmurs a soft thanks, huffing angrily afterwards.
The android chuckles. Gavin doesn't notice.
Again, silence. Though, not an uncomfortable one. Gavin fiddles with the jacket as he smokes his cigarette, pondering internally why the scent radiating off of the piece of clothing is actually appealing. Do androids have a naturally nice smell to them, or is it just Gavin's imagination?
His hues wander, glancing towards the android and feeling his cheeks grow even warmer than before.
The machine wore a black turtleneck, the sleeves rolled upwards to its elbows with its arms crossed in front of its chest, instead of located behind its back. This is the moment that Gavin notices that Nines has a graceful energy to it, almost exquisite. Handsome, even. And, in the descriptive words of Gavin's mind--- hot. Perhaps, for a mere moment in time, he considers the android on the same level as himself, instead of below him--- to say that simply, he considered Nines to be a human just like himself; before quickly shooing that internal idea away, hiding his face in the jacket.
If Nines was a human, Gavin would definitely have a crush on him.
The silence isn't comfortable anymore, and Gavin knows that it can tell, and it will speak to him soon. He's unsure if he wants the thing to speak, or just leave him to the silence. He'd rather suffer in silence at thoughts of a human version of Nines' being his boyfriend.
“Can you elaborate on your brother?“
Dammit.
Now, his right brow twitches with... anger, it seems. Gavin doesn't like to speak about his brother, save for the nice memories he has stored in his thoughts--- deep in the back of his mind. “He was cool while he lasted.“ So was the silence. He misses that.
Considering the fact that this is probably the longest amount of time between the two of them that they haven't begun a fight, Gavin tries to switch the topic--- change the subject to save this conversation and leave it on a good note.
“So, question for ya; do you think of Connor as your older brother? I mean, you're an updated model of him, right? So, technically...“ The human shrugged his shoulders, taking another quick inhale of his cigarette. Gavin wasn't expecting to be talking about feelings or anything, but here they are.
The RK900 unit emits a sigh, its head turning ahead to look outward amongst the city, its arms now behind its back. “I simply view the RK800 model as inferior to me, that is what I was programmed to do.“
Gavin denies the jolt in his chest--- pretending it never happened. The way the android spoke suddenly appealed to him in a different way, now.
“Well, how'd ya feel when you saw it get shut down, huh?“
The LED spins red. “Pardon?“
“You heard what I said, plastic prick. How'd ya feel? You sure you didn't feel a sort of connection to it, or a feeling of something? Or how do you feel when you look down at those android bodies down there? Do you feel shitty, like you might throw up but you can't because you're a machine? Huh?“ Gavin seemed to be interrogating it. “Look down there and tell me you feel nothing.“
Of course, Gavin trying to ignore his own feelings to try and push it onto something else; that emotion usually resulting in anger directed towards someone or something.
The android, surprisingly, follows the instructions, its oculars gazing down at the piles of bodies strewn on top of each other--- just for being deviants. While its LED spins red, it says nothing in return, for moments.
The air is thick between them.
Then.
“I am a machine, Gavin.“
So much for leaving the conversation on a good note.
Gavin lets out a scoff, his fingers releasing the rest of the cigarette before the sole of his boot steps on it, the cancer stick dissolving and disappearing amongst the icy sleet.
“C'mon, Nines. Let's get outta here.“
The scruffy male makes his way to the vehicle, while the RK900 waits, seeming to ponder as it looks down at the city. Brows are knitted together in evident slight frustration and contemplation.
“You comin', or what?“
“Yes, Gavin.“
He doesn't make note of the android calling him by his first name for the first time, and he doesn't make note of the sudden change in Nines' voice. Anyone just introduced to the RK900 unit wouldn't have noticed it, but Gavin does. That voicebox had some emotion in it.
He doesn't comment on how Nines never specifically told Gavin, "I feel nothing" whilst looking upon the corpses of its own kind.
He stays silent, much like the winter night.
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The Menacing Mind of Felix Lombardi-Act 2
I peek through the door glass one more time, to make sure I’m not hallucinating. Yep. Ami Fujinami in the mother, fucking flesh.
“Felix? I know you’re in there, open up” Ami said, in between repeatedly knocking
“Yea I’ll open it up in a minute” I said as I frantically searched for a clean pair of sweatpants to wear.
Ami and I have known each other for the entirety of the 2 years I’ve been living at this apartment. She and her Grandma have taken pretty good care of me seeing as I’m not exactly the best at it.
“Hi Ami, what brings you here?” I asked, trying to push out the conversation with my brother from my mind
“Well, a strange man in a dark blue suit was here yesterday and he gave me 2 tickets to Mysticon”
And then it call comes rushing back
“Wow that’s weird, well have fun” I said as I tried to close the door on her, only for her to stop the door from shutting.
“He said he was your brother, and that I should ask you to go with me” Ami said, slowly edging towards me like she was trying to get a good look at the reflection in my eyeballs.
“Well, I have no idea who you’re talking about. I don’t have a brothe-”
“Hello? Mr. Lombardi? He said exactly what you said he’d say. Mhmm That he doesn't have a brother. Should I hand him the phone? Ok. Ok. I’ll tell him.”
Oh fuck.
“He says if you don’t go to Mysticon with me, I should tell Obaa-san to lock you out of the wifi for a month” Ami said, in the most perfunctory tone imaginable.
“First of all, you can’t do tha-”
“Yes. Yes I can. And to be honest, I don’t care if Mr. Lombardi is your real brother or not, I want to go to Mysticon, and I don’t care who with. So you’re going with me Felix.” Despite the fact that Ami was more or less extorting a date out of me, she did so with the gusto and demeanor of a middle schooler who just won a spelling bee.
“Why couldn’t you just go by yourself?”
“The deal is, I take you, and I get a free ticket. Mr. Lombardi was very clear about this”
“So I have no choice”
“None at all”
“Alright. Come knock on my door on saturday”
“It is Saturday, you bum”
“Why aren’t we using your car?” Ami moaned as we exited the building.
“The train is faster” I said, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of my jacket.
“Mysticon is in Hells Kitchen right?” Ami asked, whilst reaching into her backpack
“Yup, and it’s...3pm, traffic will be annoying, and I don’t wanna worry about driving back if I buy weed.” I said, pulling out my lighter
“What have I told you about smoking when you’re next to me.” Ami said, pulling out a batton, then flicking it to extend it’s length.
I put the cig back in the pack, whilst prompting her to sheathe her weapon. Throughout the journey my mind is racing. Ami and I hanging out again? It’s not that I like her or anything, it’s just that I kind of missed her. Hey I’m allowed to have feelings aren’t I? I’m sure you’re wondering “but Felix, if you missed hanging out with her, why did you stop talking to her?” Why yes fair reader, that’s a very adequate question, however the nature of our relationship isn’t that simple. Ami is kind of an all around nerd aficionado, she cosplays, she writes fanfics, she draws, she sings anime openings on youtube, it’s kind of scary how much she does all over the place. Recently she’s started to get really famous online, she’s started to devote a lot more time to it, and She started ghosting. Being distant... And you know me, I ain’t exactly a butterfly myself, so we just drifted apart. She should be making money on youtube, couldn’t she just get her own tickets?
“Obaa San wouldn’t let me” Ami said as we reached the station. “She’s against anime conventions on principle”.
“Is this about a ‘Japan is more than anime’ thing?” I asked, shifting over to the right as I stepped on the escalator so I could walk down past the standers.
“No that’s more my parents. Baa san is a reeeeaaally old school Otaku.”
“Then what’s her beef with anime conventions?”
“She thinks they’re ‘commodified caricatures of otaku culture’ or something along those lines” Ami said as we hopped on the train.
Granny Fujinami isn’t wrong in the slightest.
“So she won’t be mad at you for going?”
“She’s only letting me go because I’m going with you. It’s aaalways about you with her.”
“Not my fault i’m the grandson she never had” I said while making a mocking face at Ami.
“She only loves you cuz you’re a broken mess she can nurture. You’re like my dad. Ugh, you’re like all men really.”
Ouch.
“Ouch.”
“Suck it up loser.” Ami said, shifting her direction away from me.
“You’re so cute when you go all Tsun” I said, pulling out my phone.
“That would imply me having any ‘dere’ for you.” Ami snapped back.
So hot.
[At the Convention]
What’s going on what’s going on going on. Everyone’s looking at us. Well I guess I am walking next to Amura. Yes that’s Ami’s social media name, you try coming up with something better at 12. Mine’s [REDACTED]. This is not what I signed up for. Louis Othello Lombardi you fucking bastard. You knew this would happen. You did your homework on Ami and figured out she’d be a lightning rod for attention. Keep me around her, and I’m bound to be assaulted by nothing. But. Fucking. People.
“OH MY GOD IT’S AMURA!” Two young girls screamed. “But I heard you weren't coming? You said so on twitter :(.“ I swear to almighty Haruhi Suzumiya, if there was such a thing as a frowny face emoji in real life, whatever that girl did was damn close.
“Well change of plans ^_^” Oh my god, Ami can speak emoji too!
“So what panels are you going to? I heard Gail has a panel about anime piracy” Said one of the fangirls, angling towards it on the con directory.
“Gail from Crunchyroll?”
“Sounds fun! Felix, ikimasu!” Whoever this version of Ami was, I wanted NO PARTS.
“Sounds lame. I’m going to the arcade.” I was putting my foot down
“Ok cool. Hand me your pass then. You can pay on your own.”
“You can’t do tha-”
“Yes. Yes I can. You want this pass?.” Ami pulled out the 3 day convention pass out of her purse and dangled it in front of me. Obviously I tried snatching at it, only for Ami to move it out of the way. Damn japanese reflexes.
“Gotta be quicker than that. We’re going to the panel. Follow me.” Ami said, tossing me the pass.
“If you sneak off, I’m calling Obaa chan.” she said, in that her perfunctory yet declaratory way.
“...So what you end up having is an environment where it’s harder and harder for us to justify hosting servers for anime distribution, because they don’t wanna pa- *ahem* because piracy.” Or something to that effect I’m not really listening to this Gail lady.
Anime piracy is a dumb thing to have a panel about anyway, it’s not like anybody in this room even knows how to torrent off wonwons, let alone\ how find the right codec for shows with bad compression. These are a bunch of crunchycores. The kinds of anime fans so hopped up on seasonal hype that the mere thought of an anime older than 12 months makes their tongues run dry, and their eyes wire shut.
“Are there any questions?”
“You got anything to ask?” chuckled Ami.
“Why are we here. We both know Kissanime is in your bookmarks” I jeered.
“Networking dummy. I talk to Gail after the panel, and smooth out something over at Crunchyroll” For some reason Ami’s eyes did the dollars signs when she said “crunchyroll”
“In San Francisco? You’d hate it there.”
“I’d make it there. That’s the important part. I’d really make it. I’d be in.”
“In what?” I said with a look of befuddlement.
“You wouldn’t understand. You’re basically guaranteed a job after graduation”
“Hey, don’t make it like tha-”
“Don’t make it like what Felix?” Ami snapped, but less with anger, and more a tired expression.
The Panel was beginning to wind down, and folks were getting up to leave. Ami bounced out of her seat and darted towards the stage.
“Gaaaaaiiiil! Hiii, I follow you on twitter!” Ami screamed, like a schoolgirl seeing a classmate
“Amura! I follow you too! I love your singing” Gail responded in a surprisingly similar manner.
“Thanks so much, ugh. That means alot l love you and Sailor Bee’s podcast ^_^” This whole display was just. The worst.
I backed off from the discussion, but I knew I wasn’t gonna be able to make it far without incurring that good old Fujinami wrath. Jeez they’re taking forever. Is this a meet and greet? Or a job interview.
“Felix? Oh shit, how you been bruh?” This voice, I recognized it.
I turned around, and yup, it was Tyler.
“Who let riff raff like you in here?” I said as we shook hands
“Is that any way to treat your one black friend:” He responded dryly.
“I have plenty of black friends. Unlike you, most of my friends are girls.” I shot back.
“Yea right, if you ever left your yuppie ass play pad I’d believe you.”
“You’d be surprised how many of em recognize me from Ami’s streams.”
“The streams she stopped inviting you to?”
“Low blow T.”
Tyler is a friend from Highschool who runs in the same online circles that I do. We keep in touch through discord and trade merchandise on message boards. He’s been trying to break into the FGC since middle school and recently struck a deal with a team based out of Brooklyn, The Mash Masters. He’s pretty good, quick reflexes, consistent muscle memory, but he lacks patience, and his neutral game needs work.
“Where you headed to after this? Tryna hit up the arcade?” Asked Tyler as he picked up his backpack getting ready to leave.
“I’m here with Ami, I gotta check and see where she’s headed to”
“Whooptish” Tyler said, while making a whipping motion.
“You know it’s not like that bro.” I shot back
“For her it isn’t, for you it is.” he retorted.
I told him to wait up for a sec as I went over to Ami & Gail. They were still chopping it up like they’d known each other since band camp.
“Shoot me a DM on twitter whenever you get the chance, I’d love to get you acquainted with the rest of my team. Maybe even talk bringing you to some other cons around the east coast ;)” Naruhodo, it seems this Gail is also of the emoji Clan.
“Sure thing! Don’t forget to tweet out the channel link with the picture, and tell Vicky I said hi!” Ami said gleefully.
“I definitely will, but uhh, she hates being called Vicky. Victoria or Sailorbee are just fine.” Gail responded, with a tinge of trepidation.
“Yea, I made that mistake on twitter once, it wasn’t pretty” I said with a chuckle.
“Oh hello, and who might you be?” Asked Gail.
“This is my friend Felix I was telling you about.” Ami said. Wait, telling her about what?
“Ah yes, the animator. Ami showed me your fan animation of Diebuster. Very interesting to see a Gainax show done with heavy Yutapon vibes” This lady knows her stuff.
“This lady knows her stuff” I said to Ami.
“Of course I do silly, I work in the anime industry” The smile Gail shot me as she said this wouldn’t be out of place in a Shaft anime.
“You definitely have some real skills. We’re looking for someone to do a sakuga heavy promo for our new youtube ad. If you’re interested, Ami has my contact info. It was so very nice meeting the both of you, don’t forget to keep in touch.” Gail said in a warm, professional tone as she got up to leave.
“Well she seems nice” I said to Ami.
“You’re welcome Felix.” Said Ami, in her usual biting tone.
“I didn’t ask you for that. If I wanted a job at Crunchyroll I’d have one already.”
“‘Thanks Ami, I really appreciate you showing my work to someone really influential who can open doors in my chosen profession, would you like headpats?’” Ami said, in a mocking imitation of my sultry ciciillian speech pattern.
“First of all, fine, thank you, that was a very nice thing to do, and I was pleasantly surprised. Secondly, do you seriously want headpats?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, you weirdo” And there’s the Tsun again.
“I ran into Tyler, he says he’s going to the Arcade, and I was looking to go with. You in?”
“Tyler’s here? Yea sure, let’s go”
Ami & I leave the stage and head over to where Tyler is sitting when I get a text on my phone.
[11:58. Text from Lou]: Having fun?
[11:58. You]: Yea
He’s just like mom.
“Oh my god it’s Amura! Could you sign my Fightstick?” Tyler sniggered, his fightstick outstretched. He’s such an asshole I love it.
“Knock it off, I’d actually sign it if I didn’t know you’d just flip it on Ebay” Ami sneered, arms folded and head angrily tossed to the side.
“Aww don’t be like that, I really did want your autograph. You’d be surprised how many Blazblue players would pay good cash for one” Tyler said, packing his fightstick back in his backpack.
“If anyone’s gonna make money off the Amura brand it’s gonna be ME!” Ami retorted viciously.
“Now that’s just anti-black business” I said, chuckling as Tyler dapped me up.
Ami rolled her eyes as heavy as she could roll them and stomped out of the conference room, and we sheepishly trailed after her.
By this point in the day I’d grown used to Ami being a lightning rod for attention. My camera skills must have leveled up big time from all those pics I had to take, of her with fans. Just getting to the Arcade area of the convention was a whole 20 minutes of photo after photo with weeb after arrested developed weeb, and to be honest I was practicing some big time restraint to not just walk out of the center and catch an Uber home. But surely enough, through fire by force, we found ourselves at the-
Boy was this the kind of place I wanted to be. The whole area was what you’d expect from a high profile convention in a big city. What seemed to be at least 30 TVs all hooked up with consoles spanning an entire auditorium. This wasn’t an arcade, it felt more like a Bazaar crossed with a colosseum. You have your old reliables for the boomers like Street Fighter, MK, ok that’s neat, there’s Melee, 64, Ultimate, Smash 4, oh even Brawl, full house, that’s impressive. As we moved through, you could imagine that there were furrowed brows due to the smell, but in all honesty it wasn’t as bad as most invitationals I’ve been to. We couldn’t find the game we were here for though; Blazblue. Tyler directed us to the kiosk so we could get directions.
“Nigga where the Blazblue at?” Tyler said to one of the convention attendees,
All the way at the back, by the Under Night” The Attendee responded.
I was just about ready to dart over there when Tyler said:
“Nah hol’ up real quick bro, I got a question I gotta ask you” uh oh, I hear the Brooklyn leaking out.
“Yea? Is there something wrong?” the attendee said, with a befuddled expression.
“Y’all always hide the anime fighters, what's up with that?” Tyler said blankly, almost with no life at all.
“It’s not my decision where the games are set up-”
“That’s not what I asked bro. I’ve done conventions fam, I sat where you sat. NYCC 2017, bigger con than this, and from what I know about my time there, y’all have a meeting to coordinate where the games are set up. Correct?” Oh my god, Tyler what are you doing.
“Yes correct” The attendee responded.
“So you were in the room when the decision was made, correct?” This is so wacky
“Yea, but like, I didn’t have a choi-”
“Nobody’s asking about a choice, I’m asking you, what was the reasoning behind the decision?” Should I stop this? Or?...
“They didn’t want the anime stuff turning folks away” Oh no, here we go
“There it is” Tyler said triumphantly as he began to walk off.
“Hey, I think it’s bullshit too ma-” t
“Yet you said nothing. You and all your boys said nothing. Aight, I see you fam. Haruhi’s watching you” Tyler said, his back already turned and walking away. “Let’s go guys”
“Did you have to make such a big hoopla you maniac?” Ami said laughing her ass off.
“Because I have Principles Fujinami, you should try em some time” Tyler snapped back.
“That was the FUNNIEST shit I’ve seen all day, I’m so happy I knew to record that” Ami said, still cackling.
“Wait you recorded that?” Tyler said, shocked
“I uploaded it. Enjoy being a meme” Ami said blankly.
“Not again…” Tyler sighed.
We finally make it to the Blazblue section, and it’s about as serviceable as you’d expect. Two TVs both hooked up to PS4s playing Central Fiction. There wasn’t much of a crowd, about 5 or 6 people, all looked to be around college age, couple on the boomer side though. All guys.
“This game is so hyperactive…” Ami said, in a tone betwixt judgement and bewilderment.
“Not every game gotta be Street Fighter” Said Tyler. “Ey yo, who got next?” Tyler asked a portly asian fellow playing Taokaka.
“Uhh, I dunno, anybody got next?” the Taokaka player asked. The crowd shook their heads. “I guess it’s on you bro after this.”
Nobody else noticed, But Tyler’s killing intent began to spike. I get you’re excited kiddo, but you haven’t even chewed the scenery yet.
The game was pretty hype. There it was Taokaka vs Valkenhayn. Both characters with adequate rushdown capabilities and heavy damage. The Valkenhayn was an even match, but the Tao was just catching clutch reversals at every corner. It felt like seeing a tiger beat a lion by leaving a bigger gash every time they left the scuffle. Tyler, ever the professional, was quiet as a mouse. A mouthy prick like him? Quiet? I know right? But he gets like this when it’s Blazblue. The data collection phase. See if Street Fighter is Chess, then Blazblue is Mahjong. The same level of depth, but a wider variety of dealing with situational disadvantages and advantages. Tyler sees what I’m seeing and he’s analyzing, putting his pieces together, he’s not here for fun. This is off the job training.
“FINISH” 6 red letters on the television screen. Read em & Weep.
“My turn now right?” Tyler asked the Taokaka player.
“Yup. What’s your name?” said the Tao player
“Tyro, and you?” oh yea I forgot that was his FGC name, everywhere else he’s Tyrilla. He sucks at names yes I know.
“I’m Yiao, nice to meet you.” Yiao said, pushing his glasses up.
The character selection screen pops up and… Wait don’t tell me he…Oh boy, Tyler’s picking his middle school main. Hazama. Yiao on the other hand started mousing over Tao then over to Litchi. Come on pick a character already. After more mousing, his cursor finally landed on Mai... From rushdown to range spam. Just all around bloodthirst.
Both of them sat in silence as the loading screen started up, until Yiao broke that silence.
“I’ve heard of you, Mash Master Tyro. To be honest I was hoping we’d meet. I have this Mai prepared just for you.” said Yiao. Yawn. This happens all the time. Tyler’s probably got him scoped already too.
“Yiao, third runner up at Anifight Staten Island. Three. Years. Running.” Yup, knew it. Tyler lives for this shit.
“You wanna know why HowRite was able to beat you 3 to nothing last year?” Tyler said, deadpan staring at the screen.
“THE WHEEL OF FATE IS TURNING” oh shit the round is starting.
“Cuz he knew if he lost, he’d never get to face my mentor in the finals”
“But wait. Ulysses isn’t on your team?” Yiao said confused, the backstory here is really weird, I’d be confused as well to be honest.
“REBEL 1”
“Ulysses is my stepdad.”
“ACTION”
Told you.
End of Act 2.
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How to Select the Best Vape Mod Starter Kit For Beginners?
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Flavorful way of puffing with ELF BAR
Puffing has become the trend among youth classes across the globe. In this modern yet educative era, people are very conscious about their health, so they prefer to use alternatives to cigarettes and drugs to overcome their daily stress and anxiety innovatively. As individuals know that smoking causes serious issues to their lungs and other body parts and many are on the path to quitting smoking by opting for pod devices and e-cigs to fulfill their puffing needs. Let us throw some light on one of the pod products that is ELF Bar and its flavors so as to enjoy puffing in a delightful way.
Elf Bar comes in 12 different mouth-watering flavors. These flavors range from fruity, minty as well as slushy. The following are the flavors:
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All the available flavors are so mouth-watering and tasty that one will not regret if he chooses from any of the aforementioned flavors as all are equally good for refreshing your mood and keeping your anxiety at the bay.
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