Chapter Text
It was past midnight when they finally kicked him out of the casino. Not because of any pity or attempt to ensure had enough for next week’s food, but because being drunk and desperate enough is blood in the water of a shark tank. The house didn't want any stray sharks causing collateral, so he was pushed out to sea by himself.
Collateral the word echoed as he partially stumbled out the door. His mother should have never been there. She never placed a wager in her life. She paid for debts she no part in creating. He killed her. He killed–
He shoved a hand in his pocket, fishing out his phone. On the lock screen a message from Hyunju stared at him silently, looking over him as though it knew everything. A smile at the end of the text caught his eye, but before he had the opportunity to comprehend any more of it, he swiped it away. Reading would lead to temptation, temptation would lead to texting, texting would most possibly lead to destroying the last thread he was clinging to.
Their messages, at least a few each day, kept the other thoughts from swarming every other nerve in his body. He made a pact with himself to never text her when drunk the first time he wrote ‘I love you’ and deleted it before sending. In that moment, he had been completely sober. He didn’t want to imagine if that wasn’t the case. But it was too late and the idea of her seeing it, sending back a short pity message and then drifting away entirely bloomed at the back of his skull. With a swallow he ripped out the thought and moved his eyes back toward his phone.
He hailed a ride back to the house, and then searched for what he truly wanted. It took multiple attempts and several wrong apps to get to the online casino. Letting his fingers fall haphazardly across the screen, he opened a game he didn’t understand the rules of threw down a bet on the first number he could successfully type out and watched the colors jump, dance and twirl across the screen.
The screen exploded into red. It didn’t matter. It is more than possible he had more debt than before he even entered those games in the first place and the loan sharks he paid off have more than likely been exchanged with ones that had sharper teeth and less patience. As long as the games pressed the thoughts further down into him, away from the sensitive synapses of the forefront of his mind, none of that mattered. When the wheel spun, the cards splayed out, the slots landed, for one moment everything stood still like nothing had changed. Like his mother was waiting to berate him for everything he’s done wrong, her love and concern evident behind the sharp words still.
The car arrived, and he entered, neglecting the seatbelt. Instead he hit play again and watched as several wins and losses floated by, barely taking note of the sums and differences. It did its purpose of keeping his mind from drifting to thoughts of the empty house taunting his return, reminding him of all his failings as a son. But the ride ended and reality came back as it always did.
As he climbed the steps of the house, he kept his eyes trained on the game, placing another bet, making sure the screen was dazzling with colors as he entered. Each movement closer to the door his heart slammed against his chest, attempting to push him back down into the streets, attempting to keep him far from the ruthless echoes of his lone footsteps within. In a few short, jerking movements he slipped his key in, turned it and engulfed himself in the darkness. No mother waiting for him here. Just some half empty bottles.
Tomorrow morning he would throw everything away, expunge all the evidence of his life these last few months, keep Hyunju thinking he was living a life worth more than this. Since he lost his job a few months back, he kept everything neatly separated from her, maintaining his soft laughs and chatter about the day. If she knew that he was wasting all the blood spilt, his mother's and Youngmi's lives, he knew she wouldn't be able to let that go. Nobody would be able to forgive someone for that. Nut as long as he fixed it all before she came, for a few blissful days everything would be set right. She would be here, and he would be fine.
And then she would leave and he would be… not.
Because I… because I'm nothing more than a– he shook his head and reached for a bottle he left out before heading downtown. Only a mouthful got past his throat before his stomach finally revolted against the night’s activities. He stumbled to the bathroom, knees hitting the floor as his body heaved. Nothing came up but a few sputtering coughs, and the nausea settled into his stomach like a fist shoved down his throat. He placed his glasses on the ground next to him and took a few deep breaths before his hand his hand reached for his phone. He didn’t need to see anything more than vague colors to open the eventually find the app, place a bet and watch it spin.
The screen lit red, three hard knocks echo throughout the house. They’re here, they’ve finally decided to collect, they’re going to kill me. Could they not have waited until after Hyunju came. I need to see her– I need to see her one last time. He pressed a bet again and watched it spin. He should be staggering to his feet now, collapsing at third feet and begging like he and his mother had at the start of the games. Although that had about the same chance as another spin, that slim chance it would light green right now and wipe away all the debts again.
Someone shouted from the doorway, the words weren’t audible past the numb ringing at another red screen. That’s it, I’m going to die.
Footsteps slowly raised in volume. They must have been a room away. “Yongsik.”
It isn’t the voice of death. It might just possibly be the one worse option than that. She stood in the doorway, blurry, spinning, perfect, beautiful.
“Hyunju, I-”, unable to move his eyes from her figure, now kneeling to his level, one of his hands shot to his side, scrambling for his glasses. Her hand brushed his when she pushed them against his fingers.
When she came into focus, he could see her small frown, her eyes flickering to his phone still opened next to him. Finally he was able to rip his gaze off of her, frantically lurching to the side and splaying his fingers over his phone screen. The seconds drew on far to long as she sat in silence, allowing him to fumble with it until he was able to put it to sleep. He ruined it. He ruined it; she was going to leave; she was going to realize how worthless–
“Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
“Hyunju, I’m so sorry.” She helped him stand, balancing him as his feet slipped under the spinning movement of the alcohol.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I–” he managed to tilt his head upwards. A soft smile crossed her lips, like a doctor attempting to tell their patient everything would be okay, sure they were dying, but it would be okay. And suddenly he could breath again. How did he not remember how perfect she was? How did he not remember how strong, how caring, how beautiful? She should have left him, seen how pitiful, how wasteful he was of all the death they’ve been through. But of course, she didn’t. Of course, she was helping him. In the morning, she’ll leave, she’ll make an excuse and disappear, separate herself from this mess. But, of course, she was here now.
“It’s okay.” When he fell silent for more than a few heartbeats, she spoke, leading him towards his bedroom. It was okay, for now.
And he was sure if he didn't say it then he was never going to have another chance, so the words fell simply. “I love you.” She could leave now, as long as she knew.
Her eyes don’t move from the path forward. “It’s okay.” She merely repeated, although her fingers twitched against his shoulders.
“I’m sorry. I love you.”
Again her fingers twitched. “Get some sleep, I’ll crash on the couch.” They stopped at the edge of his bed, and he collapsed forward. For a moment, her hand lingered on his shoulder, the warmth of her skin the only sensation left besides the general tilting of the world around him. His mouth opened, words crawling out from his lungs, but she spoke before they had a chance to reach the air.
“Don’t worry for now, your head will be clearer in the morning, Yongsik.” Her hand slipped from his shoulder and the cold left in its shadow burrowed under his skin and into the marrow of his bones. His head fell back against the bed, unable to keep up the fight against gravity. In a heartbeat, sleep arrived.