#Philip yu x reader

[the-ate-show]

00:06 Moth to a Flame Wc: 6.3k

You worked together to tie the higher floors up. 6 had his face (including eyes), mouth, hands, and legs tied up, 8 was just her mouth and limbs, 5 tried to plead with 2, but she got the same treatment as 8, all in the pool. You finished helping with 6 and got up, something about them all being tied up in the fake pool, where blood was still splattered from their crimes, it shot a coldness through your weary bones. This sight was all just too much. You turned around for a moment, catching sight of the sad little pathetic 7. You were distracted by 1’s crash out behind you, the man yelled out and began kicking, sobbing, and beating 6 up. No one stopped it, or stepped in. He moved on to 8, straddling her to choke her, but faltering, and ending up just collapsing in tears. You tried not to cry, but it was just too difficult, and you sat next to 1, rubbing his shoulder. Now more than ever, you craved to be held. To be comforted. To be given any kind of indication that you’d be safe. But even that wasn’t promised.

3 walked over to the sorry excuse of a man in the side, who was handcuffed to one of the poles on the merry-go-round.

“The battery was removed. You did that, didn’t you? So it wouldn’t work?” 3 said, looking at 7, who sat staring at the ground with a dull look. “And the noises- why did you tell us? You were giving us a hint right? You know, I’m a chicken and a coward, I would've done the same if they had threatened me too. Please just be honest,”

No response, in typical fashion. 3 continued, “Tell us you had no choice but to wait for the opening to save us,”

“I’m sorry,”

“What?”

“All I can say is that… I’m sorry,”

After that, 3 pulled you all aside, with intention to discuss whether or not he should be freed. You spoke in hushed voices, and ever so often you caught him glancing your way.

“Do you think he’ll turn on us again?” 1 whispered.

“I don’t know. He looked remorseful,” 3 replied. “And if it wasn’t for him we’d all still be their slaves,”

“Okay, I think we should free him,” 1 concluded, and 3 nodded.

“What do you think?” 2 asked you and you shrugged.

“I don’t know what to think,” you replied honestly. “I can’t decide if i want to thank him or wrap my hands around his neck,”

“All of us,” 2 responded with a light laugh. “I think we should free him,”

“I’m with you then,” you smiled softly, and she nudged your shoulder.

3 went to free him, and 7 thanked the group, then stood off in the corner. Perhaps he thought he was being discreet, but in that little corner, he wiped away his tears.

“We earned so much time,” 1 pointed out, “The revolution,”

“But still, why doesn’t it feel like we won?” 3 breathed out, shoulders slumped.

“Because… they've earned so much money,”

The top floors were all confined to their rooms, minus 7, but the twist was their rooms were now free real estate, opened to any and all with a tiny wooden thing. 2 carried 8 up, and you couldn’t help the gasp at the sight of her room. 1 couldn’t even enter for a moment, and 3 displayed shock. You flopped down onto her bed, spreading your limbs starfish style at the comfort. 1 washed his face with the bath water, splashing it on 3 in the process. 2 looked in the side table, finding a phallic object inside, which funnily enough vibrated. She pressed it into your side and you squirmed, giggling and shoving her arm away.

“Ew!” 

“Isn’t this what they use instead of dental floss?” 3 asked, putting the tool next to the tub in his mouth.

“That’s a bidet,” 2 commented.

You only got up when people started to talk about her money, and you stared at it with undoubtable envy. 

“We could spend it all,” 3 shrugged. “Buy nice commodities. Like that bidet over there,” you laughed a little remembering his shocked face.

“Forget it, she’s no different than us. Broke and needed money outside of here,” 2 sighed.

“You’re so noble,” you responded.

“You think we should spend it?”

“You don’t have to make me feel bad about it,”

Just then, the huge chute opened, revealing the meal kits. You put the servings down, and set up the table as a group to eat. You made a point of sitting as far as possible as you could from him. That puts you next to 3. This way, there was someone between you two, and you were on the same side, so he’s unable to even look your way.

The food felt finally fulfilling, and you ate like you’ve never eaten before. You kept going till fullness prodded at your stomach, and you couldn’t hold down any more.

“Wow, that’s the first time I’ve felt full since I've gotten here,” 3 smiled.

1 sighed happily, “It’s a feast, isn’t it? You know what would make it perfect? If we could have a drink right now,”

“If only,” 3 practically drooled at the idea. ”But we can’t buy food or drinks,”

“Back in the day, I used to buy deodeok from the market, to make deodeok wine,”

You smiled, “I had a friend, he used to bring all this cheap wines from the convenience store for us to try, that ferment was my favorite,”

“You have to try it homemade! Much better than the store bought crap,”

You smiled for a moment, “I don’t know much about making beers or wines, but maybe we could buy a recipe for soju? We have plenty of water,”

1 was on the phone, he asked and well, one hundred million won. You whistled.

“That means we can buy it right?”

“I think, in my room that’s what happens when I try to buy something too,”

“That’s a lot of money, but it’s half of what she makes in just a day,”

2 leaned down and crouched, pulling the tape off of 8’s mouth. 8 yelped.

“That hurt!”

“Can we use your money? One hundred million won,”

“You can, but can’t you untie me first? I prefer tying others up, this isn’t my style,”

“No I can’t,” she muffled the protests with the tape.

One floppy science experiment later, directed by yourself.

“I feel like I need safety goggles,” you mused, setting up the flasks.

“You’re pretty good at this, were you a chemistry teacher?” 3 guessed.

“No,” you laughed out loud shortly. “But I got to meet a lot of interesting people for my job. A chemist. Had this whole thing set up in his house, but to be fair his was a lot more professional,”

“A chemist,” 2 mused. “Didn’t strike me as your type.”

“I was young, let it rest,” you giggled, and finally it was ready. You held up the clear liquid to your lips, pausing for a moment. 

You closed your eyes and took a sip.

“Just to be safe don’t swallow it, spit it out after tasting it.” 3 warned but you’d already been halfway through the action, and took a disgusted breath in. “Hey I told you not to swallow, you should've spit…”

Dude.

“How’s it taste?” 1 asked.

“Sour. Really bitter,” you scrunched your face. “Like death…It’s exhilarating,”

You all laughed, and they took turns trying it. Because of your position switch to do the experiment, you were now at the head, with 7 at the end of the table.

Between them, they took sips, and complained, and laughed, and you couldn’t help but feel giddy. 

“4, we should make some more of this,” 3 smiled at you, but out of the corner of your eye you saw 2 offer 7 a sip.

“Of course,” you laughed, everyone taking their seats once more.

You all watched 7 try it, he didn’t have as nasty of a reaction as the group, but to be fair, he had an affinity for the cheap crap.

“7 makes it look like it’s some expensive whiskey,” 3 laughed, and 7 let out a small chuckle himself.

“It looked like a whiskey commercial,” 1 laughed along.

“I know right!”

That night, 2 set up a little fire thing in the middle, and you all sat around on the carpet, with her up on a chair. The orange lighting was dazzling, and things felt… normal. You all ate dinner, and now had that little food coma portion of eating too much. What a reward.

“It feels like we’re camping,” 3 sighed, belly full after the dinner.

“It really does,” 1 mused.

“But no camping trips end without ramyeon,”

1 groaned, “I crave it so bad. And the soup too,”

“Would you all.. Care for some ramyeon,” 1 said after a pause.

“What?” 7 said, and everyone perked up. He got up, and came back with a pretend pot, holding it and complaining that it was hot. He set it down, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What’re you doing?” 2 asked.

“Quit it,” 3 chuckled.

“Can’t you see it? I added a lot of eggs to it,” he opened the lid. “Doesn’t it smell incredible? Try it, seriously, it’s amazing,” he began to pretend to eat with real chopsticks.

Eventually you all joined. The room filled with fake eating and the slurping sounds, which eventually was drowned out by chatter. You were too preoccupied with the longing for food, too focused on the image you’d concocted to really pay attention to who was talking. Until you heard a quiet ‘pop’ followed by very faint fizzing noises. Out of your peripheral, you watched 7 with a half amused half weirded out look. He extended a hand with a pretend soda inside, a stupid smile on his face.

“Vanilla,” he said quietly.

You stared with your lips slightly parted for a moment, eyes flickering from either of his. This was his attempt at trying to bridge the gap, again. But between his trembling fingers sat your all time favorite, you could see he was just as scared as you were.

“My favorite,” you humoured him, eyebrows furrowed momentarily. You could swear he sighed in relief.

You accepted it, fingers brushing his, then you hesitantly took a sip. 

“You look nervous,” you whispered, he very sheepishly tried to conceal his hands. 

“You’re not supposed to mention that outloud,” he said, a reference to your first date. 

He pretended to pull out two glasses, and you evenly split the fizzy drink between you two. He narrowed his eyes for a moment, then ‘spilled’ it on you. You quietly gasped in shock, and he acted like he was equally stunned.

His voice was barely above a singular decibel when he spoke, “Sorry, you’re just so pretty,” you blushed slightly, remembering when he’d first said it, and the mini celebration you had afterwards. You looked away, biting your lip. You turned to face the eyes of 1, 2 and 3.

“Did he just spill his imaginary drink on you?” 3 raised his eyebrows. Your fingers faltered around the air, and you coughed awkwardly, adjusting how you sat. You wondered how much they’d seen.

2 had a quirked eyebrow.

“How’d he know it was your favorite?”

“Lucky guess,” 7 responded immediately, matching her gaze.

“Do you guys think I’m stupid?” she slung an arm across the back of her chair, tilting her head back, then down to you both again. “3 likes vanilla too. Why didn’t you offer him some?”

3 nodded very seriously, almost like he was actually offended.

“Sorry 3,” 7 laughed slightly.

“That’s fine 7, my feelings are still hurt though,” he pouted, then a moment of cogs turning later he suddenly stared at you. “When I was seeing the painting of you cat in your room, he said it’s name before you,” 

You blinked twice then breathed out a small giggle, “I brought it up on an earlier day, my kitty’s very important to me,”

1 wasn’t convinced, “Then again, your portrait of him in the group painting was the most detailed,”

“Why’re we all pointing fingers suddenly?” you furrowed your eyebrows, then looked back to 7 to silently ask why he wasn’t intervening.

“Good point,” 2 said to 1, then her smirk appeared in its full form. “And you guys kissed,” 

“Yeah, the king’s game,” you played coy, she pinched your arm.

“No, the other night.”

“What other night?” 7 asked.

2 chuckled, leaning back to look at the other two men. “The night 8 starved us, her and 7 stayed up late on the playsets,”

“2-”

“I came to see her,” she winked at you and rolled her eyes at 7, playfully, “And she was talking to him about them kissing,”

3 gasped, and looked between you two like he was seeing double. 1 covered his face to laugh. You huffed, turning to face 7, who was looking at you like it was your fault.

“This is just as much my fault as it is yours,”

He laughed out loud, “Hey c’mon, we’re equally to blame,”

“Nice try, this is on him,”

“We’ve met,” 7 nods finally, trying to close the conversation.

“Met?”

“On the way into the game,” he lied. “Looks like they brought us at the same time,”

You nodded along to whatever he said, trying to seem convincing.

3 raised an eyebrow, “I don’t buy that,”

“3 you and I are on the same team here,” you tried.

“Both of you slept with 7?” 2 joked and you threw a pillow at her. “If I knew someone when walking into the show, I would stand near them at the beginning. You guys actively avoided each other,”

You scowled at her, she raised her eyebrow expectantly.

“Why does it matter?” 7 interrupted.

1 ducked his head momentarily, “Just curious,”

“Isn’t it obvious?” 2 said to 1.

3 looked at 1 too, “Yeah… they’re siblings,”

You choked, trying to gather your bearings to assess what he just said. “WE SLEPT TOGETHER?”

Yu patted your back awkwardly, as you coughed. Now that you thought about it, that was totally a set up.

“Oh… so you’re lovers?”

There was a long pause, and Yu just sighed heavily, nodding. You pursed your lips.

“Were. We were,” you emphasized.

2 clicked her tongue, “Must've been awkward,”

“Tell me about it,” you groaned in response.

“You two dated?” 3 seemed to finally deep it. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yu asked.

“Well she’s so…” he smiled brightly, doing some jazz hands, “And you’re so…” he dropped his hands and smile, taking on a serious look.

Yu let out a slight laugh, “Thank you 3,”

“Blink twice if you need help,” 

“I’m fine 2. Bitter. But fine,”

“How long were you together?” 2 asked.

“Two years and four months,” he responded without missing a beat.

“How did you stand each other for that long?” she responded.

“He wasn’t this much of a pain the first time around,” that elicited a few giggles from all around, and even a small breath of air from him.

“How’d you two meet then?” 3 asked, leaning back on his forearms. 

“At work. To put it vaguely,” you responded. ”Hit it off, received an email and that was that,”

“An email?” 2 giggled. “How fitting,”

“My business email too of all things,” you reminisced.

“He must've been quite the catch, an email is a very… not romantic way of communication,”

“He was,” you turned to look at him, the fire type ambience making a soft hue light on his face. He smiled, a small, shy smile. 

“You guys seem very different,” 1 stated. “What do you even have to talk about?”

“I doubt they did much talking,” 2 responded. You let out a shocked laugh.

“What is your problem!”

“Saying it how I’m seeing it,”

“We had plenty to converse about thank you,”

“Like…?”

“Work,” Yu responded.

“Sounds exciting,” 3 said with a hint of sarcasm.

“Not just work,” you gave Philip a glance, then faced the light again. “Whatever couples usually talk about,”

“Why’d you two break up?” 2 asked. Your heart ached for a moment.

“No more questions your honor,”

A bit of small talk later, you yawned, laying your head back on the couch.

“How long do you… want to do this for?” 2 sighed.

“If you’re sleepy you can go back down,” 1 offered, she shook her head.

“I mean the show, shouldn’t we.. stop?

“What?” Everyone sat up again, except for her.

1 continued, “I thought we had all agreed that we’d stay until I make one billion won,”

She finally sat up, elbows resting on her thighs, “1, about that billion, I’ll just cover what’s short when we leave,” she swallowed, “We all witnessed what lengths we went to just to earn time.”

“But there are other ways to earn time,”

“They won’t be enough, all lines have been crossed, nothing is out of limits anymore,”

“Don’t you think it’s unfair?” 3 spoke with a frown, “We should use them to earn time-”

“Could you do it?”

“What? Of course,”

“Really?”

“Yes,”

“Go on then, she’s tied up and defenseless. Go get revenge, satisfy your desires, or whatever. She can’t resist,” 3 got up at the challenge, walking over to 8, who slept peacefully.

It was the utmost display of power, she could sleep in here knowing she would be uninjured. If you were tied up in a room with her and 6, you would hardly even blink. He lifted his fist, like he’d hit her, then stopped. Tried again, and couldn’t. He was just simply too good. 

“Let’s leave this place as human beings,” 2 said to his shaky form, “The last chance to still have our decency,”

3 stormed out of the room, followed by 2 a little while later. 1 retreated to his room, bidding you both a good night.

You stared at the sleeping 8 for a good amount of time, before you felt Yu put his arm around your shoulders. You lifted your head.

“What’re you doing?” he didn’t respond, only continued to stare down at his other hand. Despite hating him, and his arm, and his face, and his glasses, you couldn’t remove his arm. So you  left it there. In fact, you scooted closer, laying your head back on his bicep. 

“Does your head still hurt?” he asked quietly, and you nodded.

“The bruise?” you yawned, and he nodded. “S’better,” you mumbled, moving to lay your head on his shoulder. “Still sore though,”

He watched you for a brief moment, before placing a soft kiss on the top of your head, then resting his on top. “How’s your cat,”

“He’s okay. Got a bit sick just before I came though. He’s with a friend,” 

“The one that owned like twenty cats?”

“Bingo, but she owned like 3. And a parrot,”

“Same thing,”

“Where’d you get twenty from?”

“Her house was loud!”

“You’re mean,” you pouted.

“Sorry,” he laughed. “Just don’t feel like she liked me very much,”

“She did not,” you laughed. ”Told me to stay away from the glasses-wearing dorks,”

“She called me a dork?”

“No, I did,” you smiled, and he smiled back. 

Like cold water in the morning, you remembered just how severely he’d hurt you. The coins, the punishments, the ache, the pains, the blood, the tears- the hurt. You lifted your head, getting up suddenly and dusting yourself off. He looked up at you with a pained expression, because he knew. And he knew he couldn’t do anything to soothe it. 

So he watched you leave.

The group decided when the remaining time ran out you’d leave the show. So, your days were spent lounging. You took different shifts tending to each person. 

5’s attitude had shifted slightly to be less apologetic and more annoyed at your lack of response to her pleading. You wouldn’t untie her, only feed and clean her, like all the rest. As much as she was technically blameless, no one knows which side she’s truly on, meaning she could free the rest of the captives if she was released. So, you kept her tied.

You all took to 8’s room for the simple luxuries. 7 and 2 kept up their hygiene by shaving, 1 did exercises to soothe his leg pains, 3 styled his hair, and you enjoyed a bath, something you hadn’t had in years. It felt great to soak in warm water with soap to leave your scent incredible for days. 8, despite being the foulest human alive, had great taste. It was pretty close to the scent you usually wore, so it really did feel like a taste of home. Cleaning your clothes was a whole other type of fancy. You and 2 did it together at one time, the boys did it together on another. 

You scrubbed at a blood stain, her at her own thing, until she broke the silence.

“Was it mutual?”

“Hm?”

“The breakup,”

“2 just drop it,”

“But it’s just so puzzling. You seemed very okay with him before the whole betrayal thing,”

“I was,” you swallowed. “It was just- it was complicated okay,” you said, feeling your breathing become more shallow.

“Okay. I won’t ask again.” she responded with a soft smile, and you thanked her.

That night, you all celebrated being able to leave at the end of the timer. Hugs and pleasantries were exchanged, and everyone retreated to their rooms. It was about 7 pm, when everyone resigned.

Back in your room, you laid in bed, before your door creaked open. You got up to inspect it, the whole place felt really dingy. Some thumping came from upstairs, and you slowly followed it up. Three flights up stairs later, you put your ear against 7’s door. There was a soft thudding noise coming from inside, that continued to grow more urgent. You creaked the door open, peaking your head in to reveal Yu unconscious in a pool of his own blood. You gasped, running forward but stopping when the door slammed shut behind you. 6 stood with a  maniacal smirk, holding a butcher’s knife in his hands. You froze, and he ran at you. You closed your eyes, opening them again to find yourself in your room. Safe, in bed, heaving. You tried to gather your bearings, clutching your blanket tightly as you convinced yourself you were truly alone. Your heart rate was rampant, threatening to burst through your body at any moment. 

You weren’t really sure when you had put on your shoes, or left your room, or climbed the three flights of stairs, or even when you’d knocked.

All you know is as soon as you saw his face you walked into his arms. You buried your face into the harsh material of his shirt, clutching him so tightly as if he’d somehow slip between your fingers. He didn’t need to be told what happened, or why you were here. He knew. You stood in his embrace for a while, his hand gently rubbing your back, his breathing lulling you back to reality. You hiccuped, leaning your head back to wipe your tears. His arms remained.

“Sorry,” you sniffed. “Did I wake you up?”

“That’s not important, don’t worry,” he spoke softly, like he was afraid to break you.

You took in a shaky inhale, lips quivering still. You pressed your palm against his chest, for confirmation he was in fact alive, despite him clearly being so. It was irrational.

“Are you worried… about me?” he asked, tilting his head ever so slightly.

You nodded, and he smiled softly, which made you narrow your eyes.

“I’m fine,” he whispered. 

“I know,” you responded almost immediately, feeling your heart rate slow down. “I still hate you,” you said and he laughed. 

“Was that really necessary?”

“Just don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” you dropped your head against him.

“You don’t seem like you hate me all that much,”

“I do,”

He waited for a few beats, before he replied. “Okay sweets,”

You looked back, the time read ten. “Can you… walk me down?”

He nodded, wrapping an arm around your waist and opening the door. The walk was short and silent. You opened your room door, a sudden feeling of deja vu washing over you. You've been here before. Not here, not this place, but here. With his arms around you and his sweet words and even sweeter promises. Back when it was you two against the world, no matter how cliche that is. You held his hand when you entered the room, the familiar dread of your night terror creeping back up. Who’s to say he’ll be okay when he leaves? 

“Do you want me… to stay a little?” he read your mind.

You nodded, avoiding his gaze. He mumbled a quiet ‘okay’, then walked over to your mattress. He laid down first on the outside, and you on the inside, scooting so you rested your head on his chest, hearing the rhythmic beats of his heart. You placed a hand against his chest, and he trailed his hand up and down your back.

“Still hate you,” you yawned. “Doesn’t change anything,” 

“Who’re you trying to convince?” he rasped out, staring at the ceiling. 

You fell asleep not long after- a peaceful, lengthy slumber. Until at sunrise, a screech woke you up.

“COME OUT HERE!” 2’s voice sounded, and you got to your feet quickly, pulling your jacket on as you left the room. You stared at the timer, it was over thirty hours more than what you last saw. You were meant to leave that night. 

“It must be broken,” 3 tried as you all joined her by the pool.

“What happened?” 1 asked.

“When we went to bed, it was nine hours, somehow we gained almost thirty-nine hours. We barely made that amount when we played those games, or got tased. What kind of sick joke is this?” She turned to face the group. “Time isn’t given out for free. Did you guys do something?” no one spoke. “Huh!?”

3 replied first, “Well no, I didn’t do anything,”

“I didn’t do much of anything,” 1 added.

You refrained from speaking, which caused 2 to narrow her eyes at you and 7, “Did you guys?”

“No,” he replied. “We sat in her room for a while then I returned. We earned like an hour by accident,”

“Why were you in her room?”

“Long story,” you interjected. 

“What’s going on?” 2 pulled at her hair. “Come with me,”

You all went room to room, nothing out of the ordinary, no changes, no loose ties, no leads. This was truly puzzling. You all ended up in 5’s room, staring blankly at the woman as you tried to come up with a game plan.

“We need to strip her,” 2 stated. “I need to see with my own eyes. Everyone but 4 get out,” 

“Huh?” 5’s eyes widened.

When no one moved, 2 yelled again, and the men left.

While you attempted to be civil, apologise and do this quickly, 5 resisted and yelled so loud you were sure the people outside heard. She was clean though. You both left the room, and the men repeated this sequence but with 6, then you and 2 again with 8. All clean.

Back downstairs in front of the timer by nightfall. “This is so weird,” you said, pulling your jacket in tighter to yourself.

“One thing is clear, the culprit is in this room,” 2 scanned the group.

“Hey c’mon let's not point fingers,” you tried.

“Yeah, we can’t turn on each other now,” 3 backed you up. “What if maybe they felt sad that we were leaving so they gave us extra time?” he felt the stupidity by the end of the statement, and dropped his head.

“Whatever happened, it must’ve been fun to watch,” 7 said.

2 cursed at the camera under her breath. 

The next morning you, again, woke up to a scream. This one belonged to 5. You all rushed to her room. You knelt down in front of the sobbing woman, with 7 on her side, and the rest of the group nearby.

“She’s bleeding,” you gasped, pulling the tape off of her mouth gently. Underneath, crimson soaked gauze. “What happened?” you took it out with a wince, “Oh!” You bit your lip, “Her tooth was removed!”

5 cried out, “This is all your fault! You should've untied me,”

“Did you see who did it?” 2 asked, and she shook her head.

“Whoever did it, did it while I slept. It hurts. God, it hurts so bad,” she cried.

You hugged her, and she sobbed into your shoulder. Using the best of your limited medical knowledge, you bought painkillers, antibiotics and wipes. Back in her room, you tended to her, gave her the pills and cleaned her up. 

You stepped out of her room, heart heavy with hurt for her. You joined the trio that was 1, 2 and 7. 

“Where’s 3?” you asked, standing next to Yu.

“Went to bed,” 1 replied. “How is she?”

“Better,” you looked at the room. “Hopefully the pills will kick in soon and she’ll be fine. The extraction was messy,” you shivered. “Whoever did this is just cruel.”

“You seem to know alot about it,” 2 raised a suspicious eyebrow.

“Excuse me?”

Suddenly, 3 threw his room door open, running up the stairs, “Follow me guys!”

“What?” 2 replied.

“It’s his feet!” you all followed him up.

Sure enough, when 3 pulled off his sneakers, his feet were covered in blood, and gasps were exchanged around the group.

“Someone pulled out his toe nails,” 3 gagged.

2 ripped the tap off his mouth, 6 spoke. “What’s with all the fuss?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Well it was one of you who did it to me, what’s the point?” he chuckled. “You really thought you could just leave? Things are just getting good.”

You took the more hidden staircase up, and 2 stopped a few steps before everyone, turning to the group.

“Which one of you… did this?” She turned slowly.

“2 just take a deep breath, okay?Take a moment to calm down and we’ll work this out,” 7 diffused.

“Was it you?”

“No… I didn’t hurt them,”

“You just keep lying, you really were one of them,” she grabbed him by the collar and pushed him into the wall. “You love being here. You wanna stay no matter the cost,”

“He was with me when 6 got injured,” you spoke, pulling her off of him softly.

“You’re in on it too huh? Bonnie and Clyde, right?” you narrowed your eyes.

“I’m innocent 2,”

She didn’t seem convinced, turning to 1, “And you?”

“Huh?”

“You wanted your billion,”

“That doesn’t mean he’d hurt them,” you pleaded with her to calm down.

“So that leaves 3,” the man seemed shocked.

“No way, I couldn’t even stomach it,”

“So what? HE PULLED HIS OWN TOENAILS OUT?!” she stomped her foot.

“What if you’re just trying to throw us off your scent,” 7 raised an eyebrow.

She cocked her head to him, slowly, menacingly, “What?”

“Nevermind. Why do you care about the culprit so much? What’s important is that one of us, if not more, wants to stay, to earn more time. Shouldn’t you consider that?”

“Have you all lost your mind? We already agreed,” she scoffed. “Things will only get worse, did you forget about the torture we went through? Think for a moment,”

There was an enveloping silence that blanketed you all, she was right, things would only spiral downhill if you didn’t leave soon. Whoever did this was thinking with their pockets and not their heads. But who could it be? 

She walked you back to your room, which you were sure was to make sure you didn’t sneak off to see 7. You heard some rattling outside a little while later, and stepped out to see 2 holding chains and locks. She stopped in front of you, and you both stared at each other for a while.

“Are you gonna lock me in?” you rubbed your arms.

“No. Just help me with the captives,”

The next day, you took turns going to floors 8, 6 and 5, feeding and cleaning them and such. It was quiet, just you and her together, working alone. Between shifts, you decided to just play on the playground. You took to the slide first, remembering the awful idea to slide down after voting. Then you stopped at the little metal slide, shuddering at how filthy it used to be. After that the swings, then the seesaw. You remember the night you two spoke here, and the way he smoked the smoke you exhaled, and the way your lips found each other. It was all very cinematic, that night. You sighed, staring up at his chained room.

“Sorry,” 2 broke the tense silence of the room, you hadn't really even noticed her until that moment. “For accusing you,” she sat on the other side of the seesaw.

“Oh. It’s okay,”

“Guess 7 is just who I was worried about,”

“I really doubt it was him,” you giggled. “He’s pretty squeamish,”

She smiled back, “Why was he in your room?”

You pursed your lips, then clicked your tongue. “I had a bad dream. Wanted to see a familiar face,”

“That’s kind of cute actually,”

“Shut up no it’s not, it was casual,”

“Yep, everything about having a nightmare and going to see your ex boyfriend is casual,”

You let out a breath of air, shaking your head. “I don’t have time to think about us right now. I wanna go home,”

“You and me both,” she sighed.

After you took the night shift, you hesitantly climbed down the stairs, knocking softly on 7’s door.

“Hm,” you heard his soft groan, and then his footsteps to the door.

“Hey,” you replied quietly.

“Suppose this isn’t me getting freed?”

“No,” you rested your head against the door, laughing slightly. You heard the soft thump of his head on the other side. ”How’s it going?”

“Boring. But it’s given me some time to think,”

“Yeah? About what?”

“What I’m gonna do after this crap show,”

“Probably try to forget all about it,”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to,” he whispered. “I could try,”

“Then what did you have in mind?”

He paused. “Thinking how to win my ex girl back,”

You giggled, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “Pull out all the stops. Flowers, teddy bears, vanilla soda, grand romantic gestures and all that cheesy stuff,”

“Vanilla soda,” you trailed a finger down the door. “She sounds weird,”

“The weirdest of weird.” he chuckled. “But she was cute,”

“Was she?”

“The cutest. Her and her stupid cat,”

“I’m sure her cat was actually a genius, and you’re just not on his wavelength,”

“Her cat was single handedly my biggest hater,” another pause. “He was praying on my downfall since day one. I loved her too much to tell her it should've just been put down,”

You pressed your tongue in your cheek, “Why’d you leave her if you loved her?”

He snorted, “You really wanna do this now? When I can’t even see you?”

“It’s just a question,”

“Because I was an idiot,” he swallowed. “Didn’t know what I had when I had it. I prioritised the wrong things and for once in my life had to deal with the consequences of it.” He hit his head against the door again. “She was perfect, and I really screwed up this time.”

You were at a loss for words, staring at the floor with eyes that pooled with pent up feelings. “I’m sure she’d give you a second chance. You seem like a great guy,”

“I’d be honored to be her boyfriend again,”

“When we leave this game… call me,” 

“I was already planning on it,”

The next morning, 2 took the first shift, then you and her sat in 8’s room to eat together, then you took the afternoon shift. You hummed a quiet tune as you entered 5’s room. She didn’t plead, or even glance at you as you fed her, still humming your little song.

“Slept well last night? How’re your teeth?” you asked, cleaning her up.

She didn’t respond, and you shrugged, “Well, my night was pretty boring. I think 6 is being purposefully difficult for me. We’ll see how he likes it when he’s simmering in his own crap until we leave,” you giggled. “Actually scrap that, 2 won’t let me do it,” she finally met your gaze, eyes staring at you with intensity.

“Here, your antibiotics,” you gave her some, and she swallowed them without another word.

You left soon after, still just swaying gently, now entering 6’s room.

“Good morning princess,” you teased, grabbing his meal kit and sitting in front of him. He didn’t resist. “Slept well? How’re your feet?”

“You don’t care,” he rasped out, taking a bite from your hands.

“I don’t care about you as a person honestly, but that’s some pretty messed up crap,”

“How do I know it wasn’t you?”

“You don’t. You have no reason to trust me anyways, antibiotics?”

“Where’d you buy those?” he glanced at his money.

“8’s room. She’s very generous, surprisingly. I sent em down with the kits,”

“Why’re you in such a good mood?” he narrowed his eyes at you, leaning in closer. You stuffed his mouth with another bite.

“Had a good night, that’s all,”

On your way up to 8’s, you stopped at 7’s room. “Morning,”

“Good morning, 4,”

Finally at 8’s room, you faltered at the door after entering, hearing an ominous silence over the place. You tsked, deciding to walk back down the stairs to soothe your anxiety. Each step felt miles longer, “2?” you called out absentmindedly. You reached 6’s room.

“That’s weird, could've sworn I left the stop-”

A/N: I need to find another dude to write for after 7 or else what am I meant to do with this account LMAO recs ?? 0-0 Taglist:

@entr4p3 @vlurdao @sweet1squash

[awoogayanderes]

CHAPTER FOUR : NINE HOMO SAPIENS

➪ sypnosis : the nine of you come together for the first time to discuss the basics of this game

➪ other notes : i’m so sorry for the very late updates, it’s just been so hard to balance out my life lately and find inspiration to write, BUT I REFUSE TO LET THIS STORY DIE OUT !!! ( non edited sorry :P )

➪ between the floors masterlist

“sorry, do any of you know where I might happen to find a bathroom here ?” 3rd floor k-pop guy said. you didn’t need to go yesterday but right now, being able to just urinate would mean everything to you. “there’s no pisser,” 2nd floor blondie says. your eyes widen, do they just expect all of you to hold your bladder ? 2nd floor goes to the hot dog stand throwing a hotdog at third floor, but it was plastic.

2nd floor blondie goes to tap the other stands. “nothing is real, everything is plastic,” you walk up to the several stands just to confirm, she was right, everything was just fake, like a movie set. everyone checks a different area, no other doors opened, there was just nothing. “so does this mean the bathrooms are fake too ?” 3rd floor k-pop guy says. “i’m afraid so,” 7th floor glasses responds, sighing.

“It seems they must have removed the existing plumbing.” he continues. “what’s the point of putting so much effort in all of this if they can’t even provide basic plumbing for us,” you say, crossing your arms. “same goes for our uniforms, they look classy at first, but there's no real substance,” 7th floor says. “they could've at least given us real pockets, it’s so silly. they’re just outlines,” 5th floor says.

“i didn't know where to put my key so I thought maybe... sticking it in my boxers was the best choice for now.” you can’t help but smile at 3rd floor’s honesty. you had put your keycard in the strap of your bra.“but, uh, what do we do without toilets ?” 4th floor white knight asks. “you know, i figured we'd just be here for a day. So I bought those waste bags that campers and truckers use.” 1st floor says.

“You leave it in your room ?” 4th floor asks. “well, we can't take anything we buy in our rooms outside, so I guess so. so that means we'll just be buying them each day. plus, they all cost way more than normal,” that’s when your eyes widen. “wait you already bought stuff ?” you ask. “you haven’t ?” 8th floor ray of sunshine asks, his face in surprise. “no, i didn’t want to risk anything,” you respond.

there’s a sense of embarrassment you have, thinking that you had this game figured out, obviously not. “nevertheless, we might not have to follow that course of action. there is another way.” 7th floor says, looking at the clock behind him. "’items to be used outside the room can be purchased in the square via the intercom in the common area. a special rate will still apply.’ rule book, second paragraph, somewhere on the fourth page.” 7th floor continues.

did he…did he memorize the rule book ? “are you sure we should buy stuff together ? what if it's even more expensive in the square ? what’s the rate ?” 4th floor asks, it was a bit nerve-wracking. “we know that the rate in our rooms is multiplied by a hundred, which means the showrunners don't want us to access too many resources.” 7th floor replies, it’s almost eerie how he has this figured out.

“anything we buy in our rooms has to stay there, or we'll be penalized. and there's a big delivery chute here. therefore, i’m going to assume they want us to buy things together.” yeah, for sure eerie. “well, maybe we should buy something, then. it’ll be like a test.” 5th floor suggests. “do we have to ? i’m kind of scared. what if we pay a ton, but we don't realize it ?” 4th floor white knight replies.

“we could try something small, something you can find at a corner store,” you suggest. “how about we all take a vote on it ? it’s only fair. what do you think ?” 7th floor says, you nod in agreement. “why waste time doing a damn vote ? let’s just try it.” 8th floor ray of sunshine says, before any of us could react, he walks up to the phone. “malboro reds, down to the square. a lighter, too.” he says.

“what the hell ? the fuck you think you're doing, dude ?” 2nd floor speaks up. “what ? we were gonna buy shit anyway.” 8th floor ray of sunshine replies. you suck in a breath, scared of the outcome. just a few seconds later, the chute opens, revealing a lighter and a pack of cigarettes.“oh ! the time just went down. as soon as we got the pack, the scoreboard blinked, and it changed.” 1st floor says.

“how much did it go down ?” 7th floor asks. “it was 30 minutes, now it’s 28.” only two minutes ? “that means in the square, we purchase items with time itself, not money, like in our rooms.” 7th floor says. you partially regret not buying anything your first night. “how much do a pack of Marlboros and lighter ?” 7th floor asks. “five thousand. malboro reds are 4,500 won, a lighter is 500 won, so 5,000.”

3rd floor’s response was quick, he was probably a heavy smoker to remember the exact prices. well you had no right to judge. the group then discusses whether or not your personal money was spent. 4th floor white knight runs down the stairs, screaming “the price money’s the same !” you wonder if it would have made a huge difference, there was a ‘special rate’ but you hadn’t bought anything.

“then, using the share chute, we can buy everything we need,” 1st floor says. “and when the time runs out ?” 8th floor sunshine says as he started smoking his cigarette he had just bought. “i don’t think they’ll give us more time on a whim once we run out of it,” you say. “if we blow it all on shopping sprees, it’ll go too fast and the show’ll be over,” sunshine states. “that’s correct,” 7th floor says.

“…but when i look around and see the size of this place, and the prize money…i doubt they built all this just to kick us out after a day or two,” he continues. “rich people hate spending money, though.”whilst 2nd floor was right, money creates money. “but once you have everything you need and want in the world, what else can you spend money on ?” you ask. “shit. my ass is too poor to think that way,”

“first off, i think we should sit down as a group, and discuss what to buy, only the essentials okay ?” 7th floor diverts the attention back onto what’s important. seems like he’ll be the brains here. you want to die during the long minutes you guys discuss what to mutually buy. body lotion ? no. pillows ? no. pens and paper ? no. sanitary pads ? well that’s a necessity all women need.

“what about buckets ? they can be like makeshift toilets,” you propose. 7th floor looks at you before nodding. “i agree,” finally, you all decide the products you’d buy together. nine plastic buckets, nine rolls of toilet paper, five packs of pads, five garbage bags, five packs of cigarettes. “then these are our toilets ?” third floor asks. “yeah,” third floor runs off frantically.

and with that everyone scatters to their business, you’re immediately relieved when you urinate into the bright colored bucket. when you open your door and peek out, there’s no one outside. there’s almost an eerie feeling to it, none of you really knew what was going on. how is the group supposed to get more time ? you close the door, sighing. you look at your increasing scoreboard, time is money.

taglist : @thepinktiredfreak @xdarkestdesirex

[gokinjeespot]

off the rack #1179

Monday, September 11, 2017

 Took my brand new tackle box and assortment of lures to the lake this morning to try and catch some fish. I had a blast. I landed a bunch and missed another bunch. Having barbless hooks mean fish can escape easier and it takes more skill and patience to get them in the boat.

 Secret Empire #1 - Nick Spencer (writer) Steve McNiven (pencils) Jay Leisten (inks) Matthew Wilson (colours) VC's Travis Lanham (letters).

 Secret Empire #2, 3 - Nick Spencer (writer) Andrea Sorrentino with Rod Reis (art) VC's Travis Lanham (letters).

 Secret Empire #4 - Nick Spencer (writer) Leinil Francis Yu (pencils) Gerry Alanguilan (inks) Sunny Gho (colours) VC's Travis Lanham (letters).

 Secret Empire #5 - Nick Spencer (writer) Andrea Sorrentino with Rod Reis, Joshua Cassara & Rachelle Rosenberg (art) VC's Travis Lanham (letters).

 Secret Empire #6 - Nick Spencer (writer) Leinil Francis Yu (pencils) Gerry Alanguilan with Leinil Francis Yu (inks) Rod Reis, Joshua Cassara & Rachelle Rosenberg (additional art) Sunny Gho with Java Tartaglia (colours) VC's Travis Lanham (letters).

 Secret Empire #7 - Nick Spencer (writer) Andrea Sorrentino (art) Rod Reis, Joshua Cassara & Rachelle Rosenberg (additional art) VC's Travis Lanham (letters).

 Secret Empire #8 - Nick Spencer (writer) Daniel Acuna (art) Rod Reis, Sean Izaakse & Java Tartaglia (additional art) VC's Travis Lanham (letters).

 Secret Empire #9 - Nick Spencer (writer) Leinil Francis Yu with Joe Bennett (pencils) Gerry Alanguilan with Leinil Francis Yu & Joe Pimentel (inks) Rod Reis (additional art) Sunny Gho with Dono Sanchez Almara (colours) VC's Travis Lanham (letters).

 Secret Empire #10 - Nick Spencer (writer) Steve McNiven (pencils) Jay Leisten (inks) Matthew Wilson (colours) Rod Reis, David Marquez, Peco Medina, Juan Vlasco & Jesus Aburtov, Ron Lim (additional art) VC's Travis Lanham (letters).

 Thanks to long time customer and friend Doug Stafford for lending his copies of this Marvel event for me to read. I didn't read them as they hit the racks because I was tired of these big multi-crossover stories that ultimately don't mean much. I realised as soon as I found out that evil Captain America was created by a sentient Cosmic Cube named Kobik, who appears as a little girl, that everything would be back to "normal" at the end and I was right. I've read a lot of good versus evil stories and I needed something different to keep me engaged and there wasn't much here that did that. Yes, I read the whole thing but that's the completist in me. I cannot put aside something that I start without finishing it and so I stuck with this to find out how evil Steve was defeated. My favourite character was Ant-Man and I think I would enjoy a solo Ant-Man book written by Nick Spencer. The art in issue #1 was nice but it looked like Steve McNiven (pencils) and Jay Leisten (inks) were tired doing issue #10. The in between issues had art that varied from acceptable to hard on my eyes. This is worth reading if you like to spot Marvel heroes and villains but otherwise it's not that important in the grand scheme of things in the Marvel U.

 Champions #12 - Mark Waid (writer) Humberto Ramos (pencils) Victor Olazaba (inks) Edgar Delgado (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). This is a good old fashioned super heroes versus super villain fight as Psycho-Man pays a visit from the Microverse. He's got a simple power so there's no need to explain everything about him to new fans who have never heard of the Micronauts. What Mark does to make these stories far more interesting is how he lets us see these heroes interact as friends and team mates. I love this young heroes book.

 Jessica Jones #12 - Brian Michael Bendis (writer) Michael Gaydos & Javier Pulido (art) Matt Hollingsworth & Javier Pulido (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). Jessica closes the case for Maria Hill and the person who put out the hit on Maria is revealed. It's not just good enough to find out who the bad guy is but Brian lets us in on why Maria was targeted and it's a really good twist. The on deck villain will make the next story arc super tense.

 Generations: Iron Man & Ironheart #1 - Brian Michael Bendis (writer) Marco Rudy, Szymon Kudranski & Nico Leon (pencils) Szymon Kudranski, Will Sliney, Scott Koblish & Nico Leon (inks) Marco Rudy, Dean White & Paul Mounts (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). It's Riri Williams' turn to have an adventure with her progenitor to warm up potential new fans for her comic book. There are teasers in this story that may sway fans to give the Invincible Iron Man series a try. The stable of artists used in this one shot may not appeal to some but the writing is solid.

 Dastardly & Muttley #1 - Garth Ennis (writer) Mauricet (art) John Kalisz (colours) Rob Steen (letters). The art in this new 6-issue mini is really good for this updated comic book adaptation of an old Hanna-Barbera Saturday morning cartoon show. I bet you a lot of folks will not have a clue about the two aviators and I barely twigged to the title until I started reading. I can still hear Muttley's muffled laugh in my head but here he has a voice. It's nice to see Garth's humorous side back on the racks in a book that isn't only for mature readers. If you liked the Flintstones comic book, you'll like this too.

 Kingsman: The Red Diamond #1 - Rob Williams (writer) Simon Fraser (art) Gary Caldwell (colours) Peter Doherty (letters). There's a new Kingsman movie coming out later this month and this new 6-issue mini should get you primed for it. We are introduced to Eggsy, the young British super spy and the new villain the Red Diamond. I liked the recent Nick Fury mini and this one is just as good. Pick it up for some over the top escapism.

 Star Wars: Captain Phasma #1 - Kelly Thompson (writer) Marco Checchetto (art) Andres Mossa (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). I don't get why this Storm Trooper is getting a 4-issue mini since she was only in The Force Awakens briefly. Maybe there's more to her story and they'll reveal it here before The Last Jedi hits the screens. I'm not a big fan of faceless characters, Darth Vader notwithstanding, and her chasing a traitor to the Empire isn't enough to keep me reading, but I'm sure true blue Star Wars fans will like this a lot.

 Batman #30 - Tom King (writer) Clay Mann (pencils) Seth Mann (inks) Jordie Bellaire (colours) Clayton Cowles (letters). It's part 2 of "The Ballad of Kite Man". It's a really depressing song but it shows us how "The War of Jokes and Riddles" is going.

 Lark's Killer #2 - Bill Willingham (writer) Mark Dos Santos (art) Salvatore Aiala (colours) Thomas Mauer (letters). I don't need Bill's plea to spread the word to old Fables fans to buy his new book because I like it so much I would gladly recommend it to anyone. It's a cool mix of modern and medieval. Lark provides the modern and the land of Hyperborea is the sword and sorcery setting. Please give this a try.

 Spider-Man/Deadpool #21 - Elliott Kalan (writer) Todd Nauck (art) Rachelle Rosenberg (colours) VC's Joe Sabino (letters). Here we go again with a Murderworld story as Spidey and Deadpool try to outsmart Arcade and not get killed. Elektra managed to beat the bad guy and I know these buddies will too. It's fun to see what kind of death traps creative teams come up with.

 Superman #30 - Keith Champagne (writer) Ed Benes, Tyler Kirkman & Philip Tan (art) Danei Ribeiro, Tomeu Morey & Sunny Gho (colours) Rob Leigh (letters). The 2-parter with Sinestro and Parallax concludes with the bad guys losing once again. This one had a nice message to it.

 Astonishing X-Men #3 - Charles Soule (writer) Ed McGuinness (pencils) Mark Morales (inks) Jason Keith (colours) VC's Clayton Cowles (letters). I liked the Wolverine evolution cover because it features prominently in this issue. The team's sojourn into the astral plane to defeat the Shadow King continues with this Old Man Logan solo adventure. I think the good guys just made a big mistake.

 Star Wars: Darth Vader #5 - Charles Soule (writer) Giuseppe Camuncoli (pencils) Cam Smith (inks) David Curiel (colours) VC's Joe Caramagna (letters). VC's Joe Caramagna (letters). I didn't know what a Kyber crystal was until now. There's a very well done sequence that made me think that Vader's path was going to change course, but alas it was not to be. An interesting premise though.

 Spider-Man #20 - Brian Michael Bendis (writer) Nico Leon (art) Justin Ponsor (colours) VC's Cory Petit (letters). We got a new regular customer at Comet Comics who is a big Miles Morales fan and the two of us geek out over how much we love reading this title when he comes in to pick up the latest issue off the racks. That infectious joy is why I love my job. Miles makes a big life change starting this issue and lands in hot water right from the get go. This book is never boring.

[the-ate-show]

✭・.✫ When you call

"You're so beautiful when you hate

the world," ・。.:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ The 8th show; 7th floor x female!reader

Warnings: any bad thing that happened in the 8 show likely happens here, etmophobia, suicide, EX LOVERS!!!, highkey a crack fic because I got carried away, long chapters, ps: you're 4. let's see how this will play out lmao, ALSO I don't use Y/N

. ₊˚ ☎︎₊˚✧

Summary: Knees deep in debt, fallen from stardom, and freshly single, you get the opportunity at a second chance when a mysterious text offers you money you could only imagine. Now, with 7 other strangers in a strange realm of sick games and twisted truths. And worst of all, a familiar ghost is back to haunt you. Welcome to the 8 show.

⩇⩇:⩇⩇

00:01: A Cent for every Dollar 00:02: Jealousy's a Green Eyed Monster 00:03: Epiphany 00:04: Skin & Bones 00:05: Machiavellian 00:06: Moth to a Flame 00:07: The Muse 00:08: Fortuity

[the-ate-show]

00:05

Machiavellian Wc: 4.3k

A knock resonated on your door, and with his kidnapping, you half expected to see 7. You were mistaken. 6 smirked and pushed past you, before you could protest he pointed his bat at you.

“What’re you guys doing to him?” you asked, eyes flickering between it and his face. He ignored your question to smash your little intercom machine, and your jaw dropped. 

“What’re you doing?!” you sprung forward and he pushed you harshly with the bat.

“You’re little boyfriend is safe, 5 is taking care of him real well,” he winked. You scowled.

“Somehow I don’t believe that, wait also he’s not-”

“Shhh, you talk a lot,”

. . .  

You marched your living room space again and again, trying to recite your speech from memory and continuing to fail. Your cat watched you innocently from your coffee table, in the sweater your boyfriend bought him despite his insistence on the stupidity of cats in sweaters. It was an ugly little furry thing, but the material was soft, so you let it slide. 

“We as the people deserve a right to know,” you said firmly, “While we are striving and working hard only to feed into the hopeless something something capitalism something something stand up for ourselves. When I asked-” a knock threw you off, and you opened the door to reveal Yu with his little takeout bags. He smiled, hair wet from the rain and glasses askew.

“Hey- dude,” you took the bags from him, making a ‘tsk’ noise as he took off his shoes. “Do you have no sense of self preservation?” you handed him a towel.

He sniffled, “Sorry, needed to see you,” he pecked your cheek and padded to your bathroom to change out of his damp clothes. You offered him a t-shirt you’d got as a gag gift a while back, then began to unbox the food. “Could hear you from outside,” he snickered to himself. “You talk a lot,”

“What can I say, I’m good at it.” You sniffed it before you opened it, “Sushi, you really do know how to make a girl feel special,” you mused, taking it out of the brown paper bag.

“Pfft, more of a self indulgence, work has been a disaster,” he joined you, taking his suit and stuffing it into your drier, now only in shorts and a shirt that had some corny superhero on it with some stupid text. He joined you on the floor in front of your tv, giving your cat the finger before literally anything else.

“Stop! You’re teaching him bad things! Muffin this man is a bad influence,”

Yu rolled his eyes, taking a bite with his chopsticks. You started.

“So… why does work suck?”

“I’ve been having to fight tooth and nail to get a spot to talk to this fancy producer guy, all for him to blow me off for some kid who got up here because of nepotism,” he spoke between bites, sighing heavily.

“Maybe it’s for the better,” you tried and he groaned loudly. “If he’s so easily persuaded by a little cash then maybe he’s not as desirable, you said something about wanting to get to the top ethically, no?”

“But it doesn’t seem any better, this would've been huge for my career!”

“Have you tried pitching it elsewhere?”

He took off his glasses to wipe his tired eyes with his forearm, “They’re not taking me seriously anywhere. I don’t know what it is about me that screams ignorable,”

“Hey c’mon, don’t say-”

“I can be self-deprecating if I want to,” he deadpans, and you narrow your eyes. “I can’t make my mindset get me anywhere,”

“You’re right,” you shrugged and he raised an eyebrow.

“That’s it? No speech? No ‘you’re better than that’?”

“No, you’re a big boy I’m sure you know what you’re doing. Plus, your industry’s super competitive so, what would I know,” you took a particularly big bite and he smiled at your inflated cheeks.

“Yours is pretty competitive too… So tell me about that new article,”

You dropped your head on the table.

. . . 

You couldn’t help but pace at the bottom of the stairs. You couldn’t even join the group until 2 tugged on your arm. You all stood by the intercom, but your mind was clearly elsewhere until 1 touched your shoulder gently. 

“Why would they take an unconscious man?” 3 asked no one in particular.

“Maybe they’re trying to recruit him. 7 is a high number,” you reminded and a look of contemplation passed him.

“If they have him on their side… that would be really bad news. He was the only smart one out of all of us,”

“Hey,” 2 raised an eyebrow, “I’m smart,”

“Sure,” 3 nodded. “I mean, 7 seemed like a nice guy. We smoke together and stuff, he worked hard to make sure we all do well,”

“You’re close to 7 too,” 1 spoke to you directly. 

You avoided his gaze, rubbing your arm to keep yourself warm, “You could say that,” you looked up at the room, “I hope they aren’t hurting him too bad,”

“You think they’re torturing him?”

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be surprised,” you pursed your lips, “6 told me 5 was taking care of him,”

“Oh, then he’s in good hands,” 3 assured and nods were exchanged.

With no meal kits received, no one could really rest. Until..

“What on earth?” 2 mumbled, and you all stared up at the descending group. 

What really disturbed you, 6 had his arm around 7.

“7, are you feeling okay?” 1 asked. Your eyes lingered on the cuts he had on his face from his previous fall. The circumstances didn’t allow your proximity right now, but he looked so… helpless next to them. Innocent almost. Like a kitten amongst tigers.

Until of course, he spoke, and his disguise fell in shreds, “I’m going to announce how things will be from now on. Now we have one hundred and sixty hours, until our agreed upon end date, your goal is to maintain this number by earning twenty four hours a day,”

“What do you mean your goal?” you asked, a knit between your brows. He stared at you, eyes holding an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher. “You aren’t serious, are you?”

“What, are we supposed to earn time while you guys weasel out?” 2 asked.

“No way, 7 that isn’t it right?” 3 asked, 7 didn’t look at him.

“You can refuse if you wish, but meals won’t be provided,”

“We starve, the game ends.” 2 bit back.

“We won’t let that happen,” he replied, and what he had literally told you prior, he had turned into your own personal reality.

He briefly explained a coin system to you, have a coin every three hours you earn, use a coin to buy meal kits or water. Don’t earn time? No coins, no food, no water.

“You crazy bas-!” 2 yelled out, until a taser was aimed at her. 

“One more step and I shoot, careful, this one was made for cops,” 6 grinned, like a little kid with a lollipop.

“What did they offer you 5?” you stared at her, “What could they possibly have given you to turn your back on us?”

“She’s here as medical support,” 7 replied, and you glared at him.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” you spat back.

He raised his eyebrows and 8 giggled. 6 smirked, “Do you ever know when to back down 4?”

“5,” you pleaded. “I can understand the two-timer over there, but not you. You’re better than this. Better than them,”

“Watch it,” 

5 kept her eyes on the ground, ashamed.

No amount of bargaining could help, not the pleading words from 3, and definitely not the threat that came from 1, which landed him a kick square in the stomach. You gasped, 2 shot forward to attack 6 who immediately tased her. You sank next to her quickly, trying to figure out what to do. You pulled out the little string things from her, looking up to find 1 joining you. Your face was a mosaic of hurt, both for 2 and from 7. 6 stepped on 1’s ankle, and didn’t stop no matter how hard the man screamed. You got up to attempt to push him, but were stopped by him harshly grabbing your arm. 6 pulled you closer to him by your upper arm, and you scowled.

“If you played nice 4, I would’ve put you up here with us. But all you're good for is,” he gestured with his taser vaguely at your body, “7 told me all about it,” he smirked.

Your eyes narrowed, pooling with betrayal, humiliation, and most of all; palpable anger. 7’s eyebrows twitched slightly, almost like he too was shocked by this revelation. 6 didn’t miss the look in your eyes, shoving you back harshly. 3 made sure you didn’t fall, but the silence in the room was suffocating. You refused to meet that traitor’s eyes again.

They lined you up like lamb, staring at 7 who was explaining that you pick a game, and only the winner escaped punishment.  He picked 3 to choose the first game.

“Hide and Seek,” 7 read out loud. “But first, pick between eyes, tongue, arms, or legs,”

1 chose arms, and you were going to say tongue but 3 beat you to it. You picked legs, and 2 picked eyes.

Pulling out a very gross set of items for sexual purposes, you found out the pick was your handicap. You sighed out a profanity as 6 tied your legs together.

“No smart ass comment?” he asked, you clenched your jaw, resorting to just shaking your head. “Use your words princess,” he winked and walked away. You felt dirty.

Thus, 6 began the countdown, blasting deafening music too.

You took a few deep breaths in, and began to hop. You didn’t get far before you fell, and decided to kind of use your arms to crawl. You didn't get very far even doing that. You used the slide to stand back up and hide behind an object.

The countdown ended. From what you could hear, he caught 1 first. He didn’t scream, and somehow that was scarier. Unfortunately, you were next. A rush of white hot fear flooded your system, and you tripped prematurely.

He gave you a little grin, amused by your look of terror.

“What happened to all that fire?” he pouted theatrically, “C’mon, let me hear you scream,”

The thing striked you across the stomach first, you groaned, biting your lip to hold back a scream. The next one came to your arm, then your head. Tears singed the corners of your eyes as he hit you so often you lost count, and began seeing stars. He then stopped.

“Don’t cry,” 6 teased, leaning down to see you face to face. “You’ll win next time.”

You tried closing your eyes, to leave this nightmare while he searched for the others. You felt the burning sensation of eyes on you, and you opened yours to see 7’s in the distance. You couldn’t even find it within yourself to flip him off, or to roll your eyes. All you could muster was to whimper quietly, the pain unbearable. Though in comparison to 2, who’s screams echoed, you got off easy. 7 only held your gaze for a moment, then his vision dropped to his shoes, swallowing down a breath of air. He maneuvered himself between 6 and 2 to prevent further escalation.

3 won this game, they wrapped all your faces up in clear plastic, and tied your arms and legs, 3 spun a few times and swung. You shrunk in on yourself, but the blow never came. He hit 1, judging by the male sounding groan. 3 got the tape off of him, then held his head. You know this because 5 untied you guys. You were quickly by 1’s side.

Now for the reward, for 26 hours you’d all earn 9 coins because 7, ever the gentleman, gave a mere one extra out of gratitude.

Without discussion, you all write on a piece of paper what you want your share to be, if it goes over, you all get nothing. 

You stared blankly at the sheet of paper, you felt sick to your stomach. How could one even eat in these conditions? How could one sit here and feed into their games? You looked over to 3, who seemed to have a very similar dilemma. You opted for writing two.

You all fed the little piece of paper into the box 7 held. Everyone except 3 had written two. You received your water and meal kits, but you just chugged half of your water, then wrote a small note on one of the boxes.

‘Take the half water and meal kit 3, I have no appetite anyways. Love, 4,’

That night was brutal, and sleep didn’t come easy. Even when it did grace you, it came ridden with nightmares and your blood boiling.

The following morning, a peaceful game, twenty questions.

. . .  

“No, three left,” he smiled softly, taking a sip of the alcoholic beverage he held, uniform disheveled.

“Hmmm, god this is so hard,” you groaned, leaning back on the sofa. “Is it… in this room?”

“Yes, two left,”

“Is it…” you tapped your lip, then pointed at the keychain on the table, “This?”

He groaned loudly, nodding, “Whatever,”

. . .  

“Does it refer to an action?”

“An action… Yeah you could consider it an action,”

“Do you do it alone or as a team?”

“You can’t do it alone, you need at least two,” 8 did little bunnies with her hand.

“Is it painful or pleasant?”

“Very pleasant,” 

You scoffed out loud, tilting your head back. The look 8 gave you indicated she knew what you were thinking of, but she’s not innocent either.

“Could it be… something sexual?” 3 asked.

“This isn’t sexual. What’re you thinking of?” 8 teased, he dropped his head.

“Is it something we all know?”

“You’d be stupid not to know by now,”

“Is it… game?” 3 asked.

“Nope,”

You tried to think, but your lack of energy made your brain barely work. The look 3 gave you told you he had a plan in mind. 1 made a guess, likely to make it more obvious to 2, who guessed it right.

Like clockwork, you were all tied up, she swung and hit 3. They rushed to his aid, but even when united, your body stopped cooperating. Without food, with only just enough water, and the lack of sleep, you were nothing more than a zombie. That night, you very begrudgingly ate, picking at your food for a while to regain your energy in order to endure more assault.

A few days of this cycle repeated. Playing, getting beaten, and then eating through a nose bleed. You’d gotten hit by the bat once, and been  on the other end once as well. That night you had hit 2, and the guilt you felt ate away at you for the duration of the coming days.

When catastrophe struck, you didn’t find it in yourself to speak. The coins had gone overboard. You all stood still, no fight left to argue or flinch when 6 yelled, or 7 bargained. All you could do was watch 7 through the vacancy. Giving him a slow once over, he didn’t seem to have any signs of struggle, so probably no physical threats into this. But this reward system was his idea. What cruel person would turn on his own girlfriend? You furrowed your eyebrows, mentally kicking yourself for even referring to yourself in that way- not only were you not his girl, but you also didn’t have to be for him to not torture you. Still, no one moved. Not even when 6 offered a glistening 10 coins for whoever decided to step up.

You couldn’t take your gaze off of 5, who had her head casted down. She was diabetic, she mentioned briefly before, she couldn’t join your side because it would've killed her. You didn’t blame her, the coward next to her was the only one to point fingers at. Glasses, and yet still, he couldn’t see clearly. You wondered distantly if you could ever come back from this.

1 told everyone to stay put, 2 affirmed it, citing that nothing will change.

“After one minute, I’m sure you all understand we’ll have to resort to force,”

“You’ll have to?” you said hoarsley. “Or you want to?”

“Have to,”

You gave him an unimpressed look, and he shook the bag of coins, like you were some puppy about to play fetch with him. You clenched your jaw.

There was a standoff, a battle of dominance, a fight for superiority. Despite the clear upper hand, the upper floors were losing, because no one moved. Not a singular breath.

When the minute ended, 6 picked his bat up, and began to swing to hopefully instill fear. You all just stood there blankly. 6 offered a weapon to 7, but he shook his head, looking down.

You blacked out after 8 hit you in the back of the head with a blow that was definitely not worth losing consciousness over, with a weapon you couldn’t quite decipher.

You woke up in a daze a few hours later, in your room with a meal kit in front of you. 7 sat off to the side on the floor, resting his head on the wall. You looked at the food, then at him, then you kicked it away from you harshly. You stared down at a bruise which formed on your arm, no doubt from being brought up here. A hand went up to the back of your head, and you flinched at the feeling of the nasty bruise there.

“You should eat, you look faint,”

“You should kill yourself,”

A moment of silence. Then he spoke again,

“You won’t gain anything from starving, and you’ll just keep losing,”

“Do they know you’re in here?” you wiped a trickle of dried blood from above your lips. You probably face planted after the hit, considering how tender your nose felt.

“No,”

“Good. God forbid they find out and treat you like the rest of us peasants,”

“I didn’t tell 6 anything, to set the record straight,” he wet his lips, glancing at you.

“You think my main concern is how sleazy you are? How much of a crappy human you are? How little you’re actually worth? No 7,” you laughed dryly, a stitch in your abdomen making it hard to truly showcase how bitter you are. “Poor you, feeling so guilty for inflicting harm on others. I bet your having a real good time upstairs, eating food and drinking water and taking baths,”

He stared at the floor, pushing the food towards you again. You grabbed it and threw it at him. His eyes shut tightly and he adjusted his glasses. You caught his gaze, your panting form and his calm body. Your lips quivered and you looked away, choosing to face the window. 

“You’re a sick person,” your voice broke. “And when they turn on you,” you turned to face him, tears streaming down your face. “I’ll be the first to laugh,” He’d stood up by this point, fists clenched and facing the door, head cocked to the side to look at you. You waited for anything, a quip, an apology, an explanation. The door slammed shut behind him.

You pulled at your clothing uncomfortably, sliding off your jacket, feeling the uncomfortable itch of the tag of your pants. Except, there was no tag. You fumbled to grab the paper out, and the crumbled thing was from 1. The ultimate magic trick, you culminated.

A revolution. At his signal, you’re meant to ride the chute down to his room the next morning. 

A today better than yesterday. 

After making an attempt at the blood-bought-food 7 offered you in your room, but only to regain energy there was NO gratitude inside of you for that man.

Seeing as though you had no clue how the game was played, you only followed what people did. Put a card on your head, stuck your hand out with a number, and prayed you somehow won. You didn’t. 1 did. Being tied up felt a lot less constricting this time around, but you continued to try to play into that sorrow. He hit 3, you got untied and rushed to his aid.

That night, you all met in secret. 3 had needed to say something of importance.

“The delivery chute noise. I overlooked it,” 1 replied to 3’s warning. “That could've ended poorly,”

“What if this is a trap?” 2 asked.

“What makes you think so?” 3 replied.

“It’s dramatic. To catch us escaping when they already know,”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to catch us when we make a noise?” 

You nodded, not really having much to add.

1 continued, “Yes, he’s right. 7 Was clearly signaling for us to revolt against them,”

“If that’s the case, why did he treat us like this up till now?” 2 said blankly, leaned against the wall. “It was that prick 7 that kept this game so brutal.”

“My question is, how did he even know?” 1 asked, mostly to 3.

You recalled and gasped quietly. “That night, after we refused the coins, he was in my room when I woke up, maybe he saw the note,”

“And you didn’t think to mention it?” 2 raised an eyebrow.

“Didn’t seem significant,” you shrank. 

“What did he say to you?”

You stuck a tongue in your cheek, trying not to curl into a ball at all the sudden eyes. “Not much. Just that I look faint, and that I should eat.” you left out the apology.

3 scoffed, “Insensitive. Telling you to eat but not providing us food,”

You stared at the floor, and 2 scoffed. “He got you a meal kit? How’d he even manage that?”

“I don’t know. I was too angry to ask,”

2 leaned in closer to you, “Tell me you yelled at him,” there was vengeance in her voice.

You smiled slightly, “I mean, I threw the kit at him,” she laughed, and so did you. You wonder if maybe sometime later, you 2 could be real friends. 

The next day’s challenge was no short of odd. It was to balance in this square shape with everyone, without your arms. Logically, all this took was a short conversation and a few attempts, but you all messed up on purpose to make it boring. After another attempt, and yet another stupid fall, 1 began to groan, clutching his stomach. He raised his hand, like he was in a classroom.

“Excuse me, I’ve had a stomach ache for quite some time now, could you buy me some medicine?” he asked 7. That was the signal.

7 stared for a bit, then bit the inside of his cheek, going to get the key from 6. 5 told 7 what to get. 

At dawn, you crawled into the chute, descending down to 1’s room. He helped you out of the box. Everyone else was already there.

“I’m not a great fighter,” you admitted to 2, taking a spot behind her.

“You’ll be fine,” she assured. “Hey,” she put a hand on your shoulder, “If 7 ends up not being on our side, I’ll make sure to leave you a hit on his face,” she winked, and a smile spread across your features.

1 put on the waterworks soon after, laying down and pretending to be in pain, yelling about his stomach and whatnot. The door creaked slowly, the light filtering into the dim room. You held your breath, but 6 was not an idiot. He slammed the door into you guys, igniting the fuse. 2 was the first to get a few hits in, then 3 replaced her, he was then dropped to the ground and 6 repeatedly slammed the door into 2. You used your bodyweight to slam into him, making him momentarily stumble then tackle you. 1 joined in on the action, but was pushed into the waste bag pile, and beaten with the bat. You and the others worked to get 6 down, 1 even biting the man’s thigh. He ended back up on his feet, 2 pushing him and 3 throwing bags at him. You continued to try to use force, pushing and grunting, while he continued to swat you guys away with his bat like insects. Eventually, you got slammed so harshly into the wall it felt like you suddenly got clarity, and you faced the open door, which hosted an 8 holding her little taser in 3’s direction, as he had opened the door.

“Uh oh,” she said with a little shocked face.

6 had knocked out the other two, and stepped over you, kicking 3 then stepping out. He took the taser gun from his little girlfriend, then cursed under his breath as he neared the group again. You all got up, hands in the air in surrender like it would somehow change anything. Your fate was decided, and the next few days were about to be the worst torture you’d ever experience.

“Little tricksters. Never a dull moment with you guys huh?” the man chuckled out between pants of air.

“Hit him,”

“What?” 6 casted a glance backwards.

“HIT HIM!” 7 yelled.

2 let out a battle cry, lunging forward. You heard the click of his taser gun- empty. 6 promptly plummeted back onto his team, none of which tried to prevent his fall.

2 had a satisfied look in her eyes.

“My hand is all better now,” she heaved.

A/N: first time I watched this episode I was SICK TO MY STOMACH 2 if you're reading this ily pls don't die Taglist:

@entr4p3 @vlurdao

[the-ate-show]

00:01 A Cent for every Dollar wc: 5.5k

“Stupid. That’s so stupid,” you grumbled sourly, shovelling off-brand cereal into your mouth. 

“He doesn’t even know what he’s talking about. They just hire anyone these days,” you leaned back against the deflated couch. 

The young man on the Tv, charming and beautiful, continued to rant about a non-issue. If that were you, you’d have been saying something actually worth hearing. Is that the criteria these days? Young, optimistic and talking about something no one cares about? What happened to *the truth*? Have people lost their curiosity? The Tv box sputtered a bit, the reporter suddenly replaced by static and a low buzz, you sighed loudly, getting up to kick it. It worked for a moment after a particularly harsh kick, and then a spark flew, and the system completely shut down. You put your hands on your hips, staring at the useless device. As if this day couldn’t get worse.

 You put the bowl into the sink, wiping your hands and grabbing your well-worn sneakers, crouching down to tie them. You then grabbed your thrifted scarf, a pretty brown colour and headed out of your tight building. The door whined loudly as it opened, the hush of the outside world soothing your infinite isolation. A lone envelope, white and unassuming, was waiting on the other side of the door. It was almost innocent, pretty and pure. You knew what it really was though. The contents, a mockery of your mere existence. An extortionate number in a neat font on the edge of the page, above it a series of breakdowns of the prices of lab reports it took for a diagnosis. Negative, another round of testing for some rare disease you did not have. Moments like these you’d just wish to have something, even if it is the most horrible illness known to man. You like to think that knowing would give you comfort. Will it kill you or would you be ok? Is it treatable? Can you take any meds to slow the inevitable decline? Will there even be a decline? Health shouldn’t be inaccessible, something you preached on live television once upon a time, and yet it often fell on unheard ears. The gravel crunched against your sneakers, you could feel every pebble through the old material. 

. . .  

“I know you’re good at what you do, hell, you’re the best we have. But it won’t cut it anymore,” your boss said solemnly.

“I’m not sure I understand,” 

“The world doesn’t need more problems, everyone knows the pop culture industries are messed up.”

“Oh? And people want to know all about what another foreign celebrity had for dinner right?”

“That’s not-“

“This is absurd. You can’t reduce me to a gossip magazine,”

“I’m sorry,” she slid a paper across the desk, “either get with it or leave. I can’t offer more than that,”

. . .  

Stupid job. Stupid media. And stupid you for trying to be something. There was once a time where your name was followed by a string of compliments, an autograph request, a photo or two. Maybe the occasional death threat disguised as a cease and desist. The good old days.Oh how you wish you’d gotten the highest journalism award (getting assassinated by the CIA) Maybe if a celebrity actually put a hit on you things would’ve been simpler. But instead of the lavish life of luxury you envisioned, you now scrape your plate for every drop of food, and wear underwear that have holes in them. You wandered through dimly lit alleyways, brightly lit streets, and twinkling waters. Sometimes you’d like to imagine you were a stray cat, perhaps you’d stumble upon a kind stranger who’d hold you and care for you after spending your life battered and bruised. Before long, you rested your forearms on a cool metal railing, far above a breathtaking water source, one which reflected the city line. A puff of cold air blew from your lips, and you shivered slightly. Distantly, honking and barking and the occasional fight. Somewhere far away in your mind, you reminisced on how you even came here. Moved to a country, started anew, and still somehow blew it. Could it really be that no one cared? You supposed that’s a positive thing most times, living your life without the fear of judgement. But it seems like its the only thing you’re given these days.

. . .  

“You want me to talk about… a fast food place?”

“Yes! Listen- it’s an important American brand, bound to get lots of viewers and you’d be the first to cover it! … don’t give me that look,”

“What look?”

“Your ‘you’ve gotta be screwing with me’ look,”

“Okay Sherlock, I’m a little taken aback, I mean this- this is just…”

“I know, I know, you want something big, something scandalous and important,”

“But…”

“But I can’t do that for you, so quit being stubborn if you want to keep a roof over your head,”

You sighed, running a hand down your face, “fine,”

. . .  

And yet, the bills kept coming, the debt ever-increasing with no relief in sight.  You stared blankly at the horizon, the sun had long set leaving a familiar yet unwelcoming darkness ahead. Your mind drifted back to him again. You shouldn't think about him, you know this. It’s just that- now more than ever- it seemed that he was the only person who ever actually cared. You wondered how he's doing now, probably moved on with a hot young actress who knows which spoon is used for which dessert, leaving you, once again, forgotten with the test of time. You stared at his number on your phone. He should be blocked but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. He was always there when you got into your own head, always encouraging you to look for what's right, not what's trendy. You wondered what caused the change. Tears built up in your eyes. You hated feeling like this, but no, you can’t call him. You know he won’t pick up anyway. You have to deal with this feeling alone

. . .  

“You’re doing numbers this month,”

“Yeah, and I only had to sell my soul,” you slumped at your desk.

“You’re being a little dramatic,” 

“A little dramatic? I interviewed a celebrity on a rumoured pregnancy. I’m the annoying tabloids now. I love my job,”

She leaned against the doorway, “you complain an awful lot for someone who’s broke,”

“Whose fault is it I’m broke,” you raised a sarcastic eyebrow.

“Your parents probably, made you sick,”

“I hate you,” you laughed as the older woman raised her hands in surrender.

. . .  

Back home, you sat quietly on the floor, it was more comfortable than the couch anyway. There aren’t many games that you could play alone. Solitaire, obviously but that gets boring after maybe like 3 rounds. Gonggi’s fun but you rarely mess up anymore. You sat staring blankly at the deteriorating floor, tears now freely dancing down your chin. It had hit you then, you’ve got nothing, no-one. Hell, you haven’t even gotten yourself. The knot in your throat coupled with the body-wracking sobs had you immobilised for a while. Who do you call for help when everyone you know has moved on, leaving you ever frozen in you former short-lived glory. You liked to think that you were quite the ray of sunshine. But with how life’s been treating you this past year you’ve completely lost all that you are. Your passion, your job, your health, the relationship with your family, your boyfriend. You can’t even consider succumbing to your mystery illness because you aren’t sure if that day would ever come around. With no tears left to cry you thought of the only logically escape. Death. You looked around the room for anything of use, and you zeroed in on a lasso your friend would practise with. She must’ve forgotten it here. Good enough, maybe its a sign anyway. You sheepishly looked up ‘how to tie a noose’ on youtube, only to be met with dozens of mental health-help videos. You laughed out loud at the absurdity of the situation you're in as your hands settled on a familiar tight knot you would use with…nevermind. Rope secured around your neck, you headed for the only place you could hang peacefully, the windowsill. Just then, a limousine scratched to a halt in the street, and you stared at it with an amused expression. Your neighbors weren’t millionaires, plus who rents limousines? They look stupid and tacky. Who invented them? Must’ve been an idiot. What kind of display of wealth is this? It’s a display of lack of self control with money. You could feel the gaze of your trinket-filled-apartment  on your back. Ok maybe you weren’t the best with money either.

 Look at my long car ohoho. I’m so rich my driver sits in a different area code to me and I wipe my ass with gold-plated paper.

 Your phone, on a nearby end table, began to dance with notifications. Still smiling at the prospect of a fancy car, you unlocked it to show an SMS from your bank. What do you want now?

In almost fanciful fashion, a 6 digit number smiled sweetly at you. But this time, it wasn’t asking you to drain your life force to plug it. This time, this time, it offered itself to you on an embroidered silk cloth. Or, alternatively, in the poorly made banking app that you’re almost certain is selling your data somewhere. 

“A million won?” You pressed your tongue in your cheek, this must be a mistake. Maybe a kajillionare has your same name, and this is some kind of apology gift from her parents. Or you accidentally joined a gang, come to think of it, you spoke to some pretty weird people recently.

Do gangs have an orientation?

You opened the app, another came, and another, spelling out message after message about buying your time  -not ominous at all considering it was not up for sale you weirdo- all you needed was to get into the stupid car. But the limo was so shady. This is the kind of scenario you put yourself in before bed to imagine how you'd escape, not willingly walk into. What if this was a trap? Another scheme against you to end your journalistic days. No, this was a stupid idea. No way. There was absolutely no way you were getting in that. You may be sick and possibly dying but you’d like to do that with both your kidneys. Thank you very much. Heh, get into the free candy car my butt. Fat chance you're taking my liver today, creep. I doubt it’s worth much anyway. Mama didn’t raise an idiot, and if she did it would be my brother.

. . .  

The drinks inside were fake, you noted. You slumped awkwardly in the seat, sighing heavily. 

Okay maybe you caved and got into the car you spent the better half of like 5 minutes making fun of. 

No risk, no fun. 

Twiddling your thumbs, you remember how your mother warned about stranger danger. What danger is it when there is no stranger though? I mean, is this an automatic car? Who’s there driving it? Is this some supernatural force and you’re the protagonist of a horror movie? The one that dies first surely, in a totally pathetic way. Suitable for you. Dying in a limousine. Maybe that would make a good movie… Who would play me? I hope they pick the rock. We’re more similar than what meets the eye… 

Don't tell him I said that.

When it parked, you stepped out hesitantly, walking towards the theatre. It was huge, probably as big as your neighborhood. That wasn't saying much though. But you know, that had its perks, you could hear your neighbours argue when your tv shut down. The old hag down the street would bet on whos in the wrong, and a young woman in the neighborhood had a cork board with red strings connecting people who argued. She never did tell you why you were connected, and you're not sure if you want to find out. The sheer size of it reminded you of some of the interviews you’d attended, held somewhere similar. But back then, you wore extravagant outfits and held a fan base. Now your followers consist of stray cats and cockroaches that seem to love your bedroom. You knew it was bad when you started naming them.

A simple rectangular table on the stage.

8 cards, 3 of them missing. A wad of cash. A letter.

You stepped up to it, sizing up the wooden furniture with your chest puffed up. A part of you expected someone to jump out. You've been told you had a very punchable face.

Roughly speaking, the note detailed how no one could die in the game, you’d get accommodation and food and water, and you’d earn money. Easy enough, where’s the consent form? Or is just your entering of the room consent. Could you sue if anything happened? Probably not. You could also just take the cab fare and leave, that’d be nice. But then again, what do you have to lose? Besides your organs. So, nothing to lose anyways.

8, 5, 4, 3, 2.

Those numbers blinked up at you.

Logically speaking, 2 is the choice, it’s closest to 1 and 1 typically indicates the top. But going first in a mini game sounds like a nightmare. Maybe 3, unassuming and boring. But that’s average, you wanted something new. There’s that attitude people tell you you wear with too much pride.

Definitely not 8, that’s bottom of the barrel, last pick type of number. Whoever picked 7 must’ve been an equal idiot. Between 4 and 5. 

“4 or 5?” You asked yourself quietly. “4,” you replied to yourself. Why? Why not? 5 is an odd number, and by extension, you’d be odd for picking it. 4 is an even number, divisible by 2 and aesthetically pleasing. You faltered for a moment.

“You care too much,” you could almost smell the cigarettes on his breath. The once poetic and sweet voice that pushed you to heights in your career, tore you down for yearning for something new. Regardless of how many nights you spent shivering, that was the coldest you've ever felt.

So you took it, 4, because screw you and how nonchalant you are about everything. Screw you and your poor eyesight. Screw you and your cigarettes and your stupid smile. Screw you and your expensive suits. Screw you and the bed you left me to make all alone.

You pushed forward, walking through the crimson red curtains into the deep dark abyss. Your heart beating in your throat, you pushed open the doors and-

A pool, a swing set, a slide. A child’s manic dream. Perhaps this was a fever dream. You slowly walked around, exploring the empty room before looking up. 

8 was at the top, thank god you didn’t pick it. That would be a bad day to be out of shape. Scrap that, every day is a bad day when you’re out of shape. You climbed the tedious stairs, cursing at every person who’d ever worked on them, and then some, finally reaching the anticipated 4 sign. You scanned the card, and entered, wincing at the empty space.

Cosy.

You found a rule book, and began to read through. A few ground rules, something about a special price, and discarding your belongings. Coolio. You reread it a few times, then tossed it onto the ground. You tilted your head back, stretching your back and catching sight of a camera. 

Wait, aren't you meant to change? What kind of show is this…

“Money's money,” you told yourself, and got changed very quickly, trying your best not to moon the camera. 

There was a moment of silence as you stared at your phone, you knew you’d have to give it away, but come on, how’re you meant to entertain yourself? With a frown, you gave it a kiss, then remembered how filthy phones actually were. The chute closed, goodbye doom scrolling.

You stood up, tapping your pant leg awkwardly. The pockets were fake, which was a total nightmare. What’re you meant to do with your hands now? 

Strobing lights and loud noises flooded the room as the show started, meaning it was the official marker of midnight. You sat with your knees to your chest on the furthest wall from the door, messing with the fake laces on your shoes, when a ping caught your attention. The number, in red LED, went up. 

You got up hesitantly, inspecting it with a furrow in your brows. Another minute later, it doubled. You waited another minute, counting the seconds on your fingers until you hit 60. You were a few off, but it was definitely a minute. After a quick mental math calculation…

“50,000 won a minute,” you laughed to yourself, in disbelief. You smiled around the room, time to get comfy. 

Moving over to the intercom, you asked for a mattress.

“TWENTY MILLION WON?!” Oh. A special price. “Too good to be true. It was too good to be true.” You groaned, kicking the chute and immediately regretting your stupidity. You thought back to your janky little apartment. Bed sheets. 

You asked for the most affordable one, and laid by the window, covering yourself with it, content with your ability to be cheap. Who cares if you were frozen to the bone. Not you! You're about to be rich. What would you buy first? You'll Hire the best doctors to treat you. Oh! Maybe you'd fly to Europe and tour the countries there. Perhaps you'd invest in a nicer home first though.

Instead of being woken up by the pitter patter of a million legged creature, hell bent on invading your ears, you were lulled to sleep by the sound of the addition of a million won. 

The daylight filtered through the fake window, and you curled in on yourself, asleep in a position in the room completely different to the one you’d slept in. You groaned softly and rubbed your eyes, waking up to a soft feminine voice beckoning people outside. So you weren’t alone. Lazily, you got up, adjusting your clothes to free them of wrinkles and trying to look alive. 

Uncaffeinated and angry at the sun, time to integrate with society.

With a roll of your shoulders, you opened the door with a breath of confidence. You leaned on the half wall to see a few people standing there, staring up at you. As you descended the steps, a woman with the bold number 5 on her jacket waved at you, you waved back, giving her a friendly hello. She seemed a little older, small and cute, like a teacher. A man laid in a relaxed fashion on a beach chair, you hadn’t noticed him earlier, he was lounging by the fake pool. He was tall and burly, littered with bruises, a rugged kind of charm to him. You shot him a curt nod, noting his number 6. He responded with an up and down, and then a wink. Alrighty then. 7, the ugly number, stood facing the timer on the wall. His hair looked lovely though. You parted your lips to speak, but were stopped by the entrance of 3. The man was nothing short of average, but he was cute, in a younger brother kind of fashion. He had the face of someone who laughs at fart jokes. He spoke briefly, commenting on how the pool wasn't real, you only listened passively as your eyes locked on a woman hunched in a play set. 2. She met your gaze with intensity, and got up. Wow. She had short blonde hair, and a very hardened exterior. Best not to cross her. She joined the group at the calling of 5, and the older woman did a head count. Missing two more people, one made an appearance right now and oh. 

8, a young woman with a killer smile and a perfect face entered, her uniform unbuttoned, uncovering a nude bra. 6 stood up, joining the group, eyes shamelessly on the woman’s assets. She stared up at the timer, with her eyes wide and doll-like, “Wow, does that mean time will be added every day? Will we be here forever?” she giggled, and in her sugary voice, it didn't seem all that bad. 

You turned to glance again at the time, noting how quickly 7 turned around as you looked in his general direction. Okay mr tough guy, can we please have a face reveal? Ignoring his weird behaviour, the LED did read more time than last night, the 24 now up at the 30 mark.

You were about to speak, again, when a man limped into the crowd.

“Hope i wasn't too late, I'm on the first floor.” pleasantries were exchanged. The man had a fatherly feel to him, he was quite a bit older too.

The man was offered help by 3, but he declined, citing that he was used to it. 5 almost introduced herself when,

“Why bother?” 2 said, shaking her head. Okay, unnecessary.

Despite wanting to learn all the other names’, you nodded, and 3 spoke. “It’ll be hard to learn them all anyways,” 

You couldn't help but sneak another glance to the time, something about it made you impossibly nervous. Nevermind that, one thing rang in your head. Where’s the restroom? How does one even ask without exposing their bladder? Why is no one else squirming? Are they all secretly truck drivers? Did you miss the memo? Just ask… what's the worst that could happen?

(besides them all making fun of you for being a little baby)

After a few moments of silence, and a lot of you squeezing and opening your fists, “I uh,” you cleared your throat, making eye contact with 2, she seemed like she’d not judge you for peeing yourself. “Where’s the bathroom?”

She made a face, this is the part where she pushes you and calls you something mean. “There isn't one,”

3 spoke up, “What?” W h a t

She made a point of walking over to the stands, tossing you some kind of ice cream. You missed the catch, and turned to see where it landed when you caught sight of 7 holding it. 

What kind of sick joke is this? 

What crimes did you commit for this to happen? Is it to rub it in your face? Wait a minute, he’s here too…

He held your gaze with intensity, perhaps he was sizing you up. But this time, you’re on a level playing field. You opened your mouth to question his presence but were quickly cut off by 2 tossing a hotdog at 3. With everyone’s attention turned to this absurd revelation, Yu, or 7 now, took this chance to give you a very slight shake of his head, ‘not now’ you could almost hear his voice. You gave him a very exaggerated roll of your eyes before turning your attention back to the group. He mirrored your action, but not before mumbling childish under his breath just loud enough for you to hear.

. . .  

“Is there anything in your life that you can take seriously?” He laughed, wiping genuine tears from his eyes.

“No, or else I would be boring,” 

. . . 

“Everything here is fake,” 2 added as she joined the group.

7 continued, “It’s set up for a long term stay. Seems all the plumbing and infrastructure is fake,” I know something else that’s fake. “Manufactured for a long term stay, clearly,” no it wasn’t clear, but not all of us are smart. 

1 looked directly at you, “I bought one of those toilets people use on camping trips- a waste bag is its name i think,” 

You nodded slowly, “But buying waste bags daily, that would drain the money,” you'd rather drink your own urine than waste all the money on what? A bag? … good thing telepaths don’t exist.

“Not necessarily,” 7 said, you shot him a side eye. No one asked for his opinion, especially not you. Knowing how ‘perfect’ he is, he probably doesn’t even produce waste. When he farts, mathematical diagrams come out instead. “The rule book said we could buy items in the square for a special price,” Yeah, the special price being that I'll deck you the next time I see your stupid glasses.

“What if it’s more expensive?” you countered, and he shrugged. Does this man care about anything… ever? 

You are NOT this nonchalant Yu, drop the act.

“We could buy something to find out,” 3 suggested, and people nodded all around.

“But what do we buy?” 5 replied, a furrow in her brows, her hands messing with the hem of her jacket nervously.

“I’m not sure, we coul-“ 3 was interrupted by 6 pushing past him harshly, and going up to the device thing that they had on the wall.

You glanced at 3, who held his shoulder with a frown. You shot him an understanding look, and he gave you a small smile. What a cutie.

“What the hell are you doing?” 2 yelled, bringing you back to the task at hand, her fists balled up next to her sides in an offensive stance.

He didn’t reply, casting the group a bored look, simply picking up the beige phone and speaking into the mic. 

“A pack of cigarettes and a lighter,” of course. No please, let’s forget about the literal essentials and instead poison the air. Wait, what if the air doesn’t get regulated? 

You glanced around the ceilings quickly, trying to find a vent. You must’ve looked ridiculous, because when you finally looked back at the group, 7 and 3 were both looking at you like you were being weird. You looked at 6 with focus, trying to ignore the awkwardness of that encounter.

The chute opens, and inside exactly what he asked for. Didn’t Barbie have a similar thing to this? 6 looks nothing like Barbie.

“I’ll go check if it deducts our money,” you walked over to the rooms, jogging up the stairs and ignoring the burning feeling of a stare at the back of your head. Sure enough, your money’s untouched. A quick victory dance later, then a moment of staring at your reflection in the cool metal of the chute. You walked out, giving a thumbs up. 

1 filled you in “They deduct the time,” 

You gave him a nod of thanks, and thus came time to sit in a circle and decide what to get. What one person wanted, another vetoed. What one person deemed essential, another argued wasteful.

You offered pillows, but 6 already bought one, he asked you how you’d sleep without one. You just tucked your lips in, suddenly more interested in your hands. 7 offered a pen and papers, which didn’t need 8’s interjection of how stupid that idea was. 

Her words were “Why? Is someone going to study here?”

It’s kind of cute though, some things never change.

. . . 

“Do you have any notebooks?” He slipped off his fancy shoes at your door, leaving them in the neat rack he bought you. A useless attempt at decluttering your apartment, considering you still preferred to leave your shoes on the ground.

“No? Why would I?” You set down the leftover takeout bags on the table, opening the cabinet to grab containers for them.

“Aren’t you a journalist?” He smirked, loosening his tie and slipping his blazer off, hanging it up next to your coat.

You stuck out your tongue at him, “I don’t keep that stuff here, I leave it at the office. My laptop is my notebook,”

“Hm,” he flopped down on your sofa, holding a bottle of cheap wine, sipping directly from the bottle.

You giggled, “What’re you some kind of anti electronic advocate? Do you get off on killing trees?” You sighed dramatically at the last part.

“Okay miss activist, I get it you’re better than the rest of us,” he rolled his eyes playfully. You shook your head, finishing the packing away of your food.

You walked over to the couch, grabbing the remote and sat down next to him, stretching your legs in front of you. Wordlessly, he put an arm around your shoulder, pulling you flush against him.

“For the record I don’t think I’m better than anyone,” you picked your head up to look at him, the proximity still giving you butterflies. You found comfort in messing with his tie instead of meeting the fire in his eyes.

His eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips, a look of sincerity written all over his face, “Well for the record I think you’re better than everyone,”

. . . 

You realize now you spent too long thinking about it, and looked up to the gaze of everyone on you. This was like walking into class late, except way worse.

“4, does that sound good?” 5 said and you nodded, having no clue what they agreed on, but best to save yourself from embarrassment.

You leaned against the wall as people took out their kits. A bucket, sanitary pads, waste bags, cigarettes for the smokers. Disregarding your growing need to use the restroom, you waited for the others to grab their things, staring at the time with a blank expression.

Why did it increase?

Before long, you were brought out of your trance by 2, who gently bumped your shoulder, signalling for you to grab your things before walking off. You crouched next to the chute, grabbing the items.

After relieving yourself in your room, very awkwardly due to the lingering feelings of the cameras making the hair on the back of your neck stand up, you packed the waste and stuffed it into a corner. You sighed heavily. Pacing from wall to wall your mind wandered for the umpteenth time. Why did the time increase? Are you really gonna be here forever? Why are you getting money for just sitting here and mouth breathing? So many questions and so little answers, but with the red LED number ever increasing, you couldn’t find it within yourself to really care beyond a few ideas. Even if the twist was something weird, so what? You’re gonna be rich when you’re out of here. Forget Europe, a world tour. Maybe you’d start your own journalism agency, and hire people who actually know what’s up. 

Upon hearing some commotion outside, you decided to join them again. 

There appears to be an argument between everyone and 8, who apparently had 12 meal kits and water bottles delivered to her room and just… kept them. Your eyebrows shot up, now that it’s mentioned, you were pretty hungry. What is her problem?

“W-what did you do with them?” 3 spoke, looking like he might eat her.

“I tried them all,” she says with a pout. 

“You seriously ate 12 meals by yourself?” 3 replied. She makes a show of walking a few steps away, removing her jacket entirely, a small gasp came from 5. You furrowed your brows, and she rubbed her stomach in a weird way.

“Of course not, I only eat one meal a day,”

“Then can we have them?” You responded, thinking with your stomach.

She hummed thoughtfully. What does that mean?

“Stop playing with us princess,” 2 narrowed her eyes.

“I already used the water, but you can have the food,” she says smiling at 6, then the rest of you guys. 

“To do what?” 3 asks and 5 nudges his shoulder.

“To bathe,” HOLD ME BACK HOLD ME BACK.

Your eye twitched, and you clenched your jaw tightly. 

7 mustered up the courage and spoke up, “8, if you don’t mind, may we go to your room and see the meals?” She shot him a confused look, still with that gorgeous smile. She must’ve been some kind of model before coming here. 

5 ushered 8 to put her jacket back on, while telling 7 that this was an invasion of privacy, in that same sweet gentle parenting voice. 1 spoke up.

“But she’s the only one who’s seen them, perhaps it’s best to just take a look... If that’s okay,” 

8 nodded, and thus began the ascent. If you thought the stairs up to 4 were bad, then these were borderline torture. Why is no one else dying? You probably should’ve hit the gym more often. 1 seems to struggle a little, and in comparison you seemed like a total a-hole, 3 offered to help him though. He refuses at first, but 3 is a persistent man, and ends up ducking under his arm to help.

You and 5 giggled, and 3 looked back sheepishly. 

Finally, out of breath and exhausted, you reached the top of the tedious steps. A couple of people filed in, and there were murmurs and gasps. You weren’t in any rush to enter, and just lingered in the back of the group. 2 made space for you to enter, and…

“What the hell?”

A/N: you made it till the end! woohooo! Hope you had a good time reading, and I hope I'll see you in chapter 2 ;)

[the-ate-show]

00:02

Jealousy’s a Green Eyed Monster

Wc: 4.3k

Her room was massive, at least twice yours.

Oh my god, 8 was on top. You could have picked it. Everyone marvelled at the space, the lavish decor, the money that increased by unfathomable amounts every minute. They chatted vaguely about how much they each made, but you were more fixated on the bathtub. The bathtub she no doubt showered in with your drinking water. As a kid, you'd always considered a fancy bathtub the height of luxury, and now you see it for what it is.

You were right.

Besides, how'd she even get it in there? You wouldn't have been able to move it on your own, and yet here she was. You reentered the physical realm as 6 told everyone he made 130,000 won a minute. He turned to you, and you replied,

“50,000 Won,” you nodded and 2 scoffed. Not at you, just at the prospect. You gave a sorry look, and people continued to say their amounts. 

7 said something about a fibonacci sequence, you remembered learning about that in school. Either way, you felt too sick to respond while he explained it to the group. After glancing at the meal kits, counting them and the empty water bottles, the group decided to continue downwards, inspecting each room. 

You walked by the side of 2 on the way down, tension filled the air. Between the mixture of jealousy at 8 and anger at the situation, neither of you could talk. The group reached 7’s room, and part of you didn’t want to enter, but that would be suspicious. You leaned against the wall.

A table. He bought a table. 

You tried not to laugh, what a dork. A table. Hope he bought a textbook as well, maybe a bedtime story to read before laying on his mattress- which mind you was on the floor. So, a table, and no bed frame. More noteworthy though, is the table had two chairs, one on either side. How curious, perhaps he'd made a friend. Now you feel stupid. You didn't make a friend.

As you all filed out of the room, you lingered at the stairwell for a moment, eyeing the huge timer that ticked away. It has increased again. You pushed off of the wall with a quiet whistle, only to be jerked back into 7’s room, cinematically hearing the door slam shut. Before you could scream, his hand pressed against your mouth, his other hand on his lips shushing you as he pushed you to the wall.

Hi, truly the only thought you could think of.

You kept your eyes trained on him, clearly, he had the upper hand here, but a little pretending never hurt anybody. He leaned in close to your ear, and you shivered.

“Can I trust you to be quiet?” meow. You rolled your eyes, and his hand pressed further on your mouth. You furrowed your eyebrows, mentally preparing to lick him.

“Let’s keep this quick, you and I, we can’t let anyone know about us.” he paused, as if waiting for you to reply. “Whatever we had is long gone okay? Let’s just try to be civil,” 

He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Weird, this was stressing him out. “Are we clear?” he dropped his hand hesitantly and you licked your lips, nodding while glancing at the door. He caught your jaw, gentle but demanding, pulling you back to meet his gaze, “Say it,”

“What?”

“Say you understand,”

…Dear lord. I can say a lot more than that beautiful. “Would saying it out loud change anything?”

“Please,”

Oh this is serious serious. “Yeah man, I understand, crystal clear,” he breathed a sigh of relief, mumbling ‘good, good.’ He dropped his hand, offering you a glance before standing up straight.

7 opened the door, gesturing for you to pass out first. You forced a smile, missing the warmth of his body against yours. Crap, about now was the time you’d go through old text conversations between you and him, reminding you of why you broke up in the first place. You smoothed your hair out, pausing at the top of the stairs, causing him to bump into you. He grabbed your arm and shot you a ‘why’d you stop?’ look before looking down the stairs. You looked between the eyes of the other people, raising a brow.

8 and 6 looked amused, the young lady in particular taking interest in you both. 5 and 1 avoided your gaze entirely. A small huff of air escaped 3, which earned him an elbow from 2. You glanced at 7, who ignored you to walk down the stairs. For a moment, the cogs in your head turned, and by the time you put two and two together, they'd moved onto the next room.

You descended the stairs with a guilty face, despite being innocent. It’s like when you walk out of a store without even buying anything. You entered 6’s room, too mortified to even speak, or observe anything beyond what meets the immediate eye. More stairs, then 5’s room. Because of these room tours, you now realise you really should've bought something. 

Finally at your room, you pull out the keycard and swipe it, pushing it open. At Least you had the foresight to fold up your bed sheet before you left your room that morning. You gave a very tragic jazz hands, which brought a smile to 3’s face. There wasn’t much to say. As they withdrew, you caught 7’s gaze. You’ve seen that look before.

. . .  

“Don’t laugh,” you warned, fishing your key out of your purse.

He half scoffed and half laughed, “I won’t!”

“Good, or else you’d hurt my feelings,” you turned around, pushing the key into the keyhole and struggling a bit with it. He stared at your keychain. It was one he got you, and he couldn't help but feel pride that you’d actually used it. 

The door groaned in annoyance when you opened it, and it was a bit of a struggle to do so. Yu walked in, his eyes tracing over the lousy space you called home.

“It’s cosy.”

“I hate you,”

“I didnt even-”

“Yeah but you thought about it!” you pouted, motioning for him to take off his shoes. He does, and you turn to greet your cat.

He was still working on removing his shoes, “For the record I wasn’t thinking about it.”

A hairless cat that frequented your building. When you first moved in, you found him a little strange, but now, snug as a bug in his hand knit sweater, the little worm grew on you. When you rescued him, you told your boyfriend all about the adorable cat you now have, and when you said ‘expensive breed’ he thought you'd refer to a persian, or a ragdoll, not a sphinx. You held the little boy in your hands, giving him a million kisses before turning to Yu.

“Meet-”

“What is that?” his face contorted into discomfort.

“My son. My pride and joy.”

“Babe, that is not a cat. A rat maybe,” you swatted his chest, and he snickered.

“Don’t listen to the mean man, he just hates beautiful things,” you cooed at the cat, nuzzling your nose into his head.

. . .  

Back then, it wasn’t apparent what he felt when he saw your apartment. Now it was. Pity. To him you were the helpless, hairless stray cat. You felt sick at the thought, and hurried past him. 

The next few rooms were nothing but a blur, but it was comforting knowing 3 had also bought the bare minimum of just literal newspapers. 

1’s room made you feel guilty for ever even being jealous of 8. This man could hardly stand, and could probably reach across either end of the room without moving from the middle. The sick people who made this game made it a hierarchy. But why? What’s the purpose?

Either way, 8 sent the meals down the chute, and everyone sat in a circle in 1’s room. It was almost familiar to be in this kind of setting. 

The food was mostly good, maybe adequate was a better word for it. You hesitate as another bite of food comes up to your lips, when you notice 3 down his meal without a singular breath. The man was hungry. Wordlessly, you slipped the rest of your portion into his bowl. You shook your head when he tried to decline. He ended up ducking his head in thanks, and succumbing to his hunger. 

You heard a quiet scoff, one you’d grown accustomed to, and your eyes snapped up, a wrinkle between your brows. You locked eyes with Yu-  7, and gave him a skeptical look.

What did I do wrong now?

He got up before you could say anything, or even shoot him a ‘what happened to not knowing each other' look, and sauntered off to smoke. Typical. TYPICAL.

3 got up shortly after to join him, and you leaned back on your palms, passing your tongue over your teeth. This was harder than you’d thought, to pretend you didn’t know him. To pretend you hadn’t spent the better part of two years learning about everything he is and everything he stood for. But there’s no warmth anymore, no familiarity. 7. 

Definitely not 8, that’s bottom of the barrel, last pick type of number. Whoever picked 7 must’ve been an equal idiot.

 You bit the inside of your cheek, maybe had you not torn to pieces this decision, you would’ve been at the top of the pyramid.

2 dusted her hand on her knees, getting up to help digestion, if you had to guess. She took a moment to stretch on the doorway before walking out. The peace was short lived, because her voice immediately echoed out.

“Hey! What are you doing?!” you sat up a little straighter, watching her with hawk eyes. “We only have fifteen minutes left!” 2 yelled. You and 1 sprung up, moving to see her.

The woman stood in a black bodycon dress that stopped mid thigh, with a weird poofy bit at the top. Her face wore designer sunglasses, and her feet a pair of high heels- no doubt costing a fortune. You all raced down the stairs, meeting her in front of the comm device, where she had a rack of clothing next to her, and that deceptively pure smile.

“Which one looks better?” 8 said with a shrug of a shoulder, holding a hanger up.

“Did you buy that… with time?” you asked, fingers twitching at your sides.

2, with more passion, “if you wanted to play dress up, you could've done it in your own room. Why buy it out here!”

8 gave a ‘isn’t it obvious?’ face and then spoke it a buttery soft voice, “If i did, I wouldn't have been able to wear it out here. I wanted to wear it out here.” 

The blonde woman’s eye twitched, “Do you have a death wish?” but before she could do what most probably would’ve been a crime, a male voice sounded.

“Don’t intimidate her. Talk it out,” 6 said, stalking over with his hands on his hips. 2 craned her neck over to look at him ever so slowly.

8, walking like you’d imagine a princess would, went over to just underneath the LED timer. “Is it because of this? We could always extend that thing, time.” she balanced on the edge of the fake pool.

7 followed her with his eyes, “And how would we do that?”

She looked at him for a moment, stay away, no wait, do whatever you want, she then giggled, bringing her shoulders up, “You guys seriously don’t know? You don’t know how to extend it?” she continued to giggle as she walked off, “It’s the stairs,”

3 swallowed, following her along with the rest of the group. “The stairs?”

“Yes! Time extends when we step on them,”

…what sort of alternate reality does this woman live in? And more importantly, can I get what she’s on?

“Do you have any proof?” 7 spoke, seemingly skeptical.

8 parroted his last word, pretending she forgot. 2 stormed forward, “Stop messing around and tell us.”

“Only if you apologize to me first,”

“What?”

“You were really mean earlier,”

“Over my dead-” 2 stormed forward but was very harshly pulled back by 6. You flinched, a quiet gasp coming out without your consent.

“Use your words,” 6 said, in a gravelly voice.

“What's your problem?” 2 growled and 6 yelled back again. 

“Whatever, I can’t lose like this,” you grumbled, dashing forward and towards the stairs, triggering a chain reaction of the others. 

For the remaining 11 minutes, you went up and down and up and down and up and down until up became down and down became up and you were sure you’d throw up. Finally, the timer hit 10 seconds, with seemingly no want to increase again. You leaned your head down, biting your tongue. 3 stood right next to you, and he stared with pure fear at the clock. You struggled to grapple with the reality of the situation. The red LEDs vanished, and between the groans and sighs, you felt tears well up in your eyes.

For once, once, you had the opportunity to be rich presented to you on a silver- no- gold platter, and some whiney princess had to come and pray it away from your shaking hands. It’s not fair. It’s not fair, it's not fair.

It's not FAIR.

A beacon of hope, the numbers two and four appeared, twenty four when put together. The collective cheers of relief rang, along with that little turd’s voice as she celebrated solving a problem she’d created. 3 collapsed onto the ground next to you, and you placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a breathless laugh.

“You okay?” you asked him with a smile, he nodded.

“I thought it was over,”

“You and me both,” you giggled.

So, stairs extend time. Of course it would be manual labour out of all things. You groaned loudly to yourself, kicking the folded bed sheets in your room. You collided with the ground, covering your eyes with your palms.

The next morning everyone got up bright and early, with each person assigned 7 touches of 8th floor sign, you were prepared to suffer. You stretched your legs lightly, glancing back at the time. Then, with the cue from 7, everyone bolted to the stairs. You decided to jog, as running would burn you out pretty quickly. Sure enough, people started to slow down by the 3rd flight of stairs, while you were still going strong.At the end of the day, you all piled into 1’s room, eating together in silence.

The days blurred into each other, with minimal conversation, and the same boring routine. Until.

“I feel like I haven’t eaten anything,” 3 sighed, leaning back. 

“Here,” you slid your plate to him, he almost took it but 2 gave him a look and he hesitated. “Seriously, I’m good,”

That was a lie, but c'mon, you felt bad. 

3 hesitated again, looking at 2, who continued to glare at him. 6 used the opportunity and took the plate for himself. 

“Hey-“ 3 started, but 6 had practically inhaled the rest of it. Fatty.

“What? You weren’t gonna take it and she didn’t want it,” 6 shrugged, licking his lips. 2 looked at you with annoyance, then back to 6, “She would’ve eaten it had 3 told her no firmly,”

“It’s okay,” you diffused the argument before it spiraled further, “Wouldn’t have offered if I still wanted it, don’t worry about me 2,” you said to her softly, and she gave you a scoff.

“This isn’t sustainable,” 6 said, looking at the food, “we should split into teams, so on the day people are working they’d get more food,”

That actually… was not a bad idea.

So, the next day, you stood in two equal rows of people, ready to be divided.

Team A: 8, 6, 4, 2- the evens.

Team B: 7, 5, 3, 1- the odds.

“I want to switch teams,” 2 said before anything could take place. “We don’t get along,” she casted you the look, but it was clear it wasn’t intended to be for you.

3 avoided the gaze of the team, 5 would’ve gained nothing from moving…leaving-

“I’ll switch,” 1 smiled, moving to your side.

Team A: 8, 6, 4, 1. 

And thus commenced day one, where you and your team members gave it your all. Towards the middle, you stumbled upon 1 sat down, and 6 talking to him. He was taking a break on the stairs, and 6 offered to help him up. How noble. Just as they locked hands, 6 seemed to crush 1’s, evident by his groans and gasps for it to stop. You covered your mouth, team B appearing seemingly out of nowhere behind you. As 6 finally let go, he turned to see you all stood. 2 walked up, bumping into him on purpose after offering to take 1’s shift. He tried to decline but she’d already vanished. You jogged up the stairs, crouching in front of 1 and taking his hand in yours,

“Does it still hurt? Did he break it?” 1 timidly shook his head, and you helped him back up to his feet. 6 chuckled, staring you down. He had that surly look on his face, with that nauseating smirk. He was almost daring you to go against him, to challenge him.  You couldn’t take him up on that offer, this was way too deep in shark infested waters.

And then the cycle continues. Monotonous days of running with little to no rewards. Well, that was mostly your fault, buying anything felt almost trivial.

Until one day the chute pinged, and you stretched uncomfortably as you opened it, the stench making you stumble backwards.

“What the-?” you coughed, covering your nose with your shirt. crap. literally. A knock resonated at your door. You got up and opened the door, 2

She leaned on your doorway, a bored look on her face. You did not drop your shirt from your nose, “They just sent me… their feces,” 2 laughed at your choice of words.

“Feces… miss proper,” 2 walked past you into your room, leaving the door ajar, sliding the chute shut and sending it down, then turning to you, “1 was feeling guilty for not really running, so he offered to take everyone’s waste bags.”

“But his room is tiny,” you said, crossing your arms. “Where would he even sleep?” 2 shrugged.

“I can’t consciously send mine down there,” she replied.

“Me neither, not that you even gave me the option to,” you giggled as you gestured to the closed chute, she looked sheepish.

You cracked your knuckles awkwardly, and she sighed. “I didn’t mean it earlier,”

“Hm?”

“About not getting along. You’re okay 4,”

A shy smile tugged on your lips, and you nodded, “You’re not too bad yourself,”

Her eyes wandered down, and then a grin spread on her face. She grabbed your arm, bringing it up to inspect, pushing your sleeve upwards.

“Cute,” 2 referred to the dainty heart tattoo on your forearm. “Didn’t see you as the type to get ink,”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “Trust me I'm not. My friend was very persuasive, we both got one,”

She snorted, dropping your arm, “Bad idea to get matching ones,”

“Yeah lesson learned,”

“You guys had a falling out?”

. . .  

“When i meant spontaneous i didn’t mean stick and pokes,” you winced as it pinched your skin again, sat uncomfortably on Yu’s bed.

He remained focused on the design, “This is peak spontaneity,”

“Spontaneous people don't use words like th-OW,”

. . .  

… “You could say that,”

You paused for a moment, “Are you inked?”

She smiled, nodding and rolling up her sleeve to show the ones on her forearm. She then turned around, pulling off her top to show a yin yang koi fish on her shoulder blade. You marveled at it, tracing your hands on the ink.

“Yours is so well done,”

“No offence, yours isn't,” she laughed, and you flicked her lightly.

“What’s this one mean?” you asked for the millionth time it seemed like, listening to the cool stories she shared that gave you more and more puzzle pieces.

You stepped back, and she turned to face you again, showing you more tattoos, on her bicep, on her collarbone, and side, giving you the winded tale of each. In the distance, you could hear 6 talking to 8.

“What a creep,” you mumbled, stepping back to lean against the wall, she rolled her shoulders.

“Tell me about it, him and 8 will appear in my nightmares,” she rolled her eyes and you snickered.

“Reminds me of the type of men to mansplain everything,”

She raised a playful eyebrow, “Have you ever had pool mansplained to you?”

You tilted your head back against the wall, “I don’t think so,”

She smirked, “Allow me then,” she pulled you off of the wall, and put you into position for imaginary pool, talking in a false husky voice that reminded you all too well of late nights and sleazy men.

You snorted, “Like this?” you fake hit it, and she made a show of whispering loud enough, “Atta girl.” which caused you to quietly scream in mortification, which caused her to also laugh, dropping her head against your bent body.

Just then, a fast knock and the swinging of the door brought your attention up.

You were all frozen in time for a moment, 3 and 7 stood at the door looking like they’ve just seen a ghost, and 2 bending you over with her shirt off.

This looked so bad. 

The sound of money being added lit the fuse of chaos, and 3 immediately flustered, tripping over his words and turning around to cover his eyes. You squeaked, shoving 2’s shirt into her hands to cover her, and standing in front of her. 7 stared at his shoes and closed the door.

You turned to 2 with a horrified expression, but her’s seemed less shocked. Almost… amused.

“Are you okay?”

“They’re such idiots,” she slipped the white shirt back on, and you embarrassedly passed her the jacket. You opened the door to find them both still there, 7 leaned against the railing, and 3 sat on one of the steps with his head in his hands.

The latter jumped to his feet, apologising profusely to 2, who gave him a pat on the back and walked away, but not before turning to you and winking with a ‘call me’ gesture, causing both 3 and 7 to whip their heads around to look at you.

Traitor.

You met 7’s gaze, then the ground seemed more enticing. Although in hindsight, you just seemed more guilty.

“We’re about to start laps.” 7 said with an emotionless voice. You nodded.

“Kay, thanks,” you walked down a few paces faster, not missing the quiet whisper of 3 going ‘What just happened?’.

The shift went as it always did, ascend descend, up and down, rise and fall, breathe in and out. 

By nightfall, you all stared blankly at the not increasing timer. This was odd, all that running for nothing? But after a few complaints, the seemingly sentient machine pulled itself together, and more time was added.

You decided to dine inside your room this time, too humiliated to face the music. You took a few bites of the rice, then a sip of water. Then you decided to leave the rest of the meal kit for tomorrow morning, with no 3 nearby to share it with, you could just have it for breakfast. Neatly tucked in a corner, you laid down on the bed sheets again. You really ought to buy a nicer stay.

You woke up with renewed passion for living, downing the meal and rushing to join them in the circle. By the time you stood to stretch, you felt your eyes grow bleary, and the air struggled to rush into your system. You groaned quietly, the world fading into background noise as you put your hands on your knees, trying to calm your rapid fire heart.

Your skin felt like it was on fire, your airways constricted and your head feeling far too light for good. Your legs wobbled, giving out underneath you and you continued to struggle for air.

“She’s having an all-” 7 started but was cut off by 5.

“She’s going into anaphylactic shock! She needs an epipen!”

2 was the one to sprint towards the intercom, and you could vaguely make out 6’s resistance to her before the world faded to black.

–

With a soft groan, you found yourself stirring again. Your head was pounding, your body felt frigid and it was far too hot in here. The memories of what transpired hit you like a train, and you sat up so fast. A mistake, truly, as your eyes struggled to grapple with the sudden change, you had to push the bile down.

“Lay back down 4,” 5’s soothing voice said, cupping the back of your head. But you didn’t listen “You were in shock,”

“I know,” you replied, voice quiet and meek. You tilted your head back, swallowing thickly. “My bad, wasn’t paying attention to what I was eating,”

“You scared me half to death,” 5 pouted, swatting your thigh in a motherly fashion, which elicited a few giggles from all around.

“Aw I’m sorry, I’m sure it was quite the show,” you said, feeling embarrassment well up. "It was,” 6 said, and he pointed at the timer, which read ‘forty hours'. "Brainy came to an epiphany. They want entertainment,”

AN: there's more interesting stuff going on in the next chapter TRUSTT

Taglist: @entr4p3

[the-ate-show]

00:07 The Muse Wc: 8.0K

A/N: lil relationship moment to give some backstory, lil mixed media in there

The air was nice, cool enough to not have to bundle up. Tonight, your nerves were on fire. You smoothed over your dress once more, making sure it fit just right. You were supposed to be interviewing the creators of this popular tv series, trying to figure out some new addition to your article. With one final adjustment to yourself on camera, you and the videographer took your designated spots. The celebrities filed in, occasionally stopping to give you their two cents. You scribbled notes, played along with their words, and tried to be respectful.

Thankfully, your connections paid off, and you were swept away to be one of the insiders. This was new, you were nervous, but pushed through, taking interviews in a controlled environment, and receiving many compliments on your outfit and conduct. It was only a short list of A-listers to ask, then a few more lower grades. What interested you was a bold instruction written on your guide, ‘LEAVE SCREEN WRITER’, you had inquired, and your cameraman told you he had a tendency of ditching the interviews, so he was a waste of time.

“Point him out to me,” you asked, and the man scanned the area, then pointed at a man stood off to the side, nursing some red wine. 

He had a very brooding look to him, captivating almost. You ultimately decided not to talk to him.

You parted from your camera man, with clear instructions to both you and him to just enjoy the rest of the night. You figured now would be a good time to organise a few of your thoughts before your ride arrived. You sat on a little table in the corner, taking out your notepad and trying to decipher your illegible handwriting. You must’ve been at it for a while, until you noticed someone join you at the other side of the table. Habitually, you got up, but the person lifted a hand up gesturing for you to stop.

You sat back down, recognising him immediately.

“You didn’t come for an interview,” he took a sip out of his cup from earlier, eyes casted at a distant table.

“I was told you weren’t a fan of those, mr. Yu,”

“Ah, appears you know more than it seems.”

“I did my research,” you smiled softly. “I’m not meant to speak my bias, but your work on this movie is undeniable skill. In this specific area of work, I tend to have to talk to alot of people who’ve only pulled strings. Your work on that movie was phenomenal, sir,”

He didn’t respond, only sat up a little straighter and finally looked at you. He took a quick survey of you, humming at the expensive purse you carried.

“Well,” his lips tugged at the corners slightly, “I’m an open book,” he gestured to your notepad and you nodded quickly, clicking your pen and writing down his answers to your questions.

That night, excitement bubbled inside of you, and you pulled an all nighter to finish up the article. It was very centered around him, this was huge after all, for someone dubbed ‘elusive and exclusive’, you got very easy access to his thoughts. You felt like a superhero of some kind. The article was perfectly drafted by the third time, and you sent it off to your agency for them to give it a scan. You slept soundly that night, draped on your couch in a position that would definitely cause neck problems in the morning.

Approved, published, and boosted your career even further. You were over the moon! 

Life dulled down a bit after that, with no new hotshots to talk to or celebrities to chase down, you spent your time writing up bigger, longer articles on something you dubbed ‘Social Rebirth’. Countless celebrities seemed to have suddenly sprung into fame, with gaps in their timelines that indicate there’s more to them than what meets the eye. You were up writing particularly late, some cheesy early 2000’s music playing as you replayed the same files over and over again in hopes you’ll catch a change in time stamps. 

A ping popped up on your phone, a notification from email. You launched the app on your laptop, half expecting another ad on deals that somehow slipped your spam box.

Instead… a curious little sender.

FROM: Yu.Phil@email.com

TO: writes@buiness.com 

Dear miss…,

Hope this email finds you well. I reviewed your article about me, and I have to say, I’m impressed. You have a very eloquent way of articulating your words, in a mesmerizing fashion that kept me hooked. Oddly, I find myself regretting not giving you more information, as that article didn’t feel long enough. Perhaps we should arrange another interview, you’ll find I have much to offer.

Kind regards, 

Phillip Yu, screenwriter.

Oh crap. You didn’t expect him to actually read it, no one ever did! It wasn’t made for celebrity consumption, and you wondered how many snide jokes you snuck in, as usual, without knowing he’d read it. He sent it only recently, so you responded.

FROM: writes@buiness.com 

TO: Yu.Phil@email.com

Dear Mr Yu,

Thank you for your feedback, and kind words. I try to not cross the line between professional and invasive questions, which I seem to have very clumsily blurred during our conversation. 

Although, if you feel as though you’d be comfortable giving me more to work with, then another article would surely be in the works. 

Signed.

You leaned back, rubbing your hand up and down your face, then grabbing a bite of food. You just about went to take another when a reply came.

FROM: Yu.Phil@email.com

TO: writes@buiness.com 

Dear miss, 

That was quite the fast response, are journalists nocturnal? 🤔

No worries, you didn’t come off clumsy at all. How about tomorrow evening at sunshine cafe, 18:00?

Kind regards, 

Phillip Yu, screenwriter.

You stuttered a bit, unsure of how to reply. Between his lame joke and the impending invite, you struggled to find a response. 

FROM: writes@buiness.com 

TO: Yu.Phil@email.com

Haha, most of us tend to have unruly sleep schedules, part of the gig I assume.

I’m glad, see you there!

The next morning you could hardly think straight, drumming up questions, words to use to sound more impressive, potential outfits, so much to do, so little time. By 5:25, you were out the door, despite it only being a ten minute walk. You recited your introduction again and again in your head, sometimes out loud too, which the stray cats judged you for. You finally arrived, deciding to grab you both a seat when you noticed him already there. You took a deep breath, then walked over to the seat adjoining his. He got up, shaking your hand and smiling professionally.

“Nice to see you again,” you started, sitting down as he did. “Truly and honor to have this opportunity,”

“Please. It’s my honor. ” he shook his head, “I’ve reviewed some of your other work, all very fascinating topics, I tend to stray away from journalists to avoid,” he gestured vaguely, “Media issues,” 

You nodded, pursing your lips, “It’s a slippery slope, one moment a serious topic the next a secret. It's important to be able to balance gossip and facts.”

He nodded along, “Appears we’re both early. I was going to take this time to look over the menu,” he said with an embarrassed laugh. You giggled.

“Me too actually, came to get comfortable first and I guess we had the same idea,”

A sweet waiter came over and took you guys’ order shortly after, and you began the interview.

“So, sir,”

“Just Yu is fine,”

You blinked, suddenly forgetting what you were going to say. “Right, Yu, uhm there seems to be a few gaps in your wiki page, if you don’t mind I start with those,”

“Not at all,” he sipped on his coffee, black.

You clicked your pen, starting to finally enter your zone, “What did you study in university?”

“Film studies,” he replied immediately.

“And what inspired you to-”

“And you?”

“Pardon?”

“What did you study?”

You giggled slightly, taking a sip of your own drink, “You’re not supposed to ask me questions,”

“Well how’s that fair?” he frowned, but there was a hint of playfulness in his actions.

“Majored in communication, minored in media ethics,” you smiled and he made an impressed face.

“I’ve always had an affinity for theatre,” he spoke, and you jotted down in note format what he said. “The spoken word, the written word, could never speak to me like the imagery that could be created from mere concepts. Anything is possible, with just the right ideas.”

You nodded along, “So you think a good film can be enticing without the need for speech?”

“Speech is necessary for captivation, but what is more important is body language.” He adjusted himself to stare at you directly, and you caught his gaze with a nervous smile, trying to decipher what he’s doing. “You’re nervous,”

“Doesn’t take a genius,”

“No, it doesn’t.” he gave you another once over. “You’re trying to seem more open to get me to speak more, trying to match my pace and using flattery to ensure this doesn’t go south,”

“In typical fashion of someone who’s just trying to do their job right,” you squirmed a bit, feeling like his words were beginning to hit too close.

You clicked your pen again, setting it down. He quirked an eyebrow, you licked your lips and spoke. “This one is off the records,” he nodded. You brought a hand up to rest your cheek on, narrowing your eyes slightly to try to get a read on him. “Why do you hate interviews so much?” 

He pressed his lips into a thin line, pushing his glasses up his nose. You stared at him encouragingly.

“Being hounded with personal questions. Negative stringing of words together.”

“Bad press,” you nodded, smiling as the food came out. “You could say that,” 

You both ate in silence for a moment, then he spoke. “Why’re you nervous? This is your job,”

You shrugged, “Never done it in this kind of setting, or with someone as closed off,”

He raised an eyebrow and you backtracked, “I mean, you’ve been nothing but an open book, it’s just that- you know you usu-”

“I understand,” a small smile pulled at the corner of his lips. You sighed, choosing to just stuff your face to prevent making a fool of yourself until you recollected your thoughts.

“So your movie,” you started, “‘Cogito ergo sum’, what exactly had inspired you?”

“Well, in all actuality…”

And thus, the interview was concocted, and you went home, deciphering your notes and trying to draft a valid piece. 

‘I think, therefore I am. But what are we? The age old question. This movie, a simple step into a deeper universe of what humans really come down to, and what a person truly is. What is intention and what is action? How do we separate between good and bad?

I had the privilege of conversing with talented screen writer Philip Yu, where he shared with me some details about the movie you may not know, as well as more insight as to why he truly refrains from the limelight’

You leaned back, staring at your notes, then at your half finished takeout bag, then at your laptop. You got up to grab the food from the earlier meeting, when you noticed a napkin with some neat black inked writing.

“Dear miss…

Please do send me the article link when it’s finished, as I am ever curious.

Thanks, Philip Yu,”

On the back of the napkin? His phone number. You bit your lip, immediately saving it on your phone, then sitting back on the couch with your food. You smiled a little to yourself, celebrating this career success.

The article was sent, returned and signed off within a few days, and you watched it gain traction lovingly. In a moment of peace, you texted him.

You giggled a little, feeling your face heat up. 

A little while later, he texted you back a date, time, and place. A fancy little restaurant downtown with shining reviews, on the following Friday at 6pm. You decided to just meet there, given it’s probably a horrible idea to give a stranger your address. 

So, you searched your outfit for a pretty maroon dress, with glittery details and a lovely cut. You spent hours getting ready, perfecting your hair and makeup, testing out different heels from past events, and jewelry you were gifted. By the time 5:20 rolled around, you were ready, just taking a few phone calls as you walked down, your friend had very kindly offered to give you a ride, seeing as your car’s tires had been slashed a week earlier by someone who was definitely sent by a celebrity. You entered her little car, smiling at her.

“Hey,”

“Hey yourself! Excited?”

“Nervous,”

“Oh I bet! A screenwriter. He’ll turn your date into a movie,”

“Oh har har,” you rolled your eyes. “I’d be lucky if I don’t fumble with my words the entire time. Have you seen him?”

“The dude in the glasses you interviewed? Total cutie, but I must say, the glasses make him look like some kind of tech wiz,”

“He might be. I should ask that,” you scribbled it into your notes app, right after the twenty two other conversation starters. She leaned over at a red light and snatched your phone.

“Hey-”

“Ah ah ah, you need to be normal. No overplanning,”

“I just don’t wanna come off weird,” you sighed.

“But you are weird. Who else writes down what they’re interested in so they don’t forget?”

“Plenty of people!”

She made a ‘settle down’ gesture with her hands, rolling her eyes. “Relax juliette,”

You pouted, sinking into your chair.

“If this all goes south, text me, I’ll make up an emergency,”

“Say your grandma fell down the stairs,”

“Why does it always have to be my grandma? I like her, I feel weird saying she fell. The poor lady,”

“Do whatever girl, it doesn’t matter,” you sighed as you pulled up.

“Are you gonna text him?” she asked, parking.

“He’s here,” you responded, checking yourself in the mirror.

“How do you know?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Just saw him enter.” you smelt your breath and nodded. “How do I look?”

“Like a doll. Now go do your best, you’re live in five,” she joked and you giggled, thanking her for the ride and stepping out. You made your way to the entrance, heart beating out of your chest.

At the doorway, the hostess asked for your reservation, you said your name and they walked you to a secluded table. Candles illuminated the space, a soft jazz band playing somewhere nearby.

He got up immediately upon seeing you, smiling warmly and extending a hand to shake yours.

“Hey,” you said quietly, watching as he pulled your chair out. “And they say chivalry is dead,”

He chuckled a little, sitting on the other side. You spoke, “Did I keep you waiting?”

“Not at all,” he finally spoke, he cleared his throat, opening the menu.

You felt a little awkward, he didn’t seem very interested in small talk. Alas, you opened the pages, inspecting what they had to offer.

“Any recommendations?” you asked, pursing your lips. 

“The steak here is a delight,” he spoke ever so formally, which made you second guess whether or not this was a date.

“Right, what’re you getting?”

“The steak,”

Right right riiiiggghhttt. Stupid question. Where’s your notes app when you need it?

He called the waiter over, who took two orders of steak, as well as some appetizers and drinks. Yu kept his eyes trained on the table, only occasionally looking up to steal glances. You leaned back, already feeling slightly disgruntled.

“Soooo…”

He looked up at you, waiting for your continuation. “Are you… up to date with the latest technology?”

“I’m not sure I follow…?”

“Nevermind,”

The food came after that, and conversation stopped while you both ate. You definitely felt dejected, like this whole thing was a major bust. By the end of your meal, you offered to split the bill, which he only gave you a disgusted look at while passing his very high end card to the waiter. On the way out, he opened the door for you. You thanked him, and you both stood side by side in front of the restaurant for a while.

“Do you need a ride?” he asked, swallowing.

“I can just Uber,” you responded.

“It’s okay, I can drive you, I insist.” you nodded, and he led you over to his car. A sleek, matte black ride, close to the ground, could be a convertible.

“Sweet ride,” you whistled upon seeing it, and for the second time tonight, he smiled. 

“Thank you,” 

He opened the door for you, then went to the drivers side, starting the engine as you gave him directions.

The ride was silent, aside from the ambience of the car noises. This night was a total bust, you’d spent half of it spaced out, and the other trying to decipher what he was thinking, and the steak wasn’t even good. You’d severely misread the room, this was most definitely not a date, and you got all dressed up for it. He must think you’re some kind of desperate loser. You finally reached your house, you bid him a good night, which he swiftly returned, and you sulked up to your apartment, removing your heels at the door and dragging your feet every step. You wiped off your makeup, took a shower, got into your pajamas and wallowed in bed while your cat sat next to you, listening to you rant. You opted to just not text him, leave the ball in his court and just go to sleep.

You missed your alarm on Saturday, groaning as you woke up to the sunlight filtering in your room, and your cat meowing at his lack of breakfast.

“M’cominnggg relax,”

You kept your eyes closed, trying to get more shut eye before a knock came at your door. Weird, considering it wasn't even noon yet. You slipped into your slippers, stumbling past your wailing companion to the door, making sure to grab a robe on the way. You rubbed the sleep out your eyes, then opened it, to find a delivery guy. He held a bouquet of flowers and a note. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Package for miss…”

“Yeah? I didn’t order anything though?” you grabbed it, looking at it funny. “Thanks,” the guy walked off, and you walked towards your kitchen island, staring at the note.

‘Dear…,

My apologies for coming off as rude, I haven’t done this in a while. If you don’t mind, I’d like a do-over whenever you’re free, if you’ll allow me, of course.

Signed, Yu.’

Well, that was certainly a change of events.

So the following Friday, you helped arrange a date. You decided on a slightly less nice restaurant, one you knew the food was great at. Truth be told, your friend’s family owned it. Simple, lots of conversation starters, and great food. You opted to just meet there at 7 for simplicity. 

You fumbled with your shoes, then grabbed your purse and headed out the door, casting a quick ‘be good’ over your shoulder. You walked over to the restaurant, trying to soothe your rapid fire nerves. The door decor jingled gently as you pushed it open, smiling at your friend's dad, who just gave you a curt nod as he continued on orders- the place was packed. You threw a glance at the clock, still 6, so you decided to cool off by helping out. Almost like muscle memory, you grabbed some finished plates off of tables, and waited a few more. The place was packed as of now, so you didn’t really have time to chit chat with her. Eventually, by the time 6:30 rolled around, you were just putting orders in when your friend walked up to you, cleaning a cup.

“Isn’t that him?” she gestured with her head outside, a very overdressed man stood staring at the ground near a nice car, holding a bouquet of tulips.

“Yep,”

“He just got here,” she mused. “Both of you are the early types. God you really are made for each other,” you elbowed her.

“I hardly know him. Should I… maybe go out and call him in? Or text him,”

“Nah. Let him come in when he’s ready,”

So you did, spent the next half an hour helping her out, wiping tables and waiting others. He, on the other hand, paced, then smoked, then sat in his car for a little, then paced again, until at 7 sharp he opened the door. You were in the back, grabbing something from the freezer when she ushered you out, all but pushing you into him.

“Hey,” you said softly, feeling underdressed as he dawned pants and a button up with a branded sweater. 

“Hey back,” he responded with a nod, trying to match your smile.

“You look great,” you said shyly, adjusting your top.

His eyes widened, and he swallowed, stumbling over his words, and ending up with a simple “Thanks,” which clearly even he wasn't satisfied with. He shoved the colorful bouquet into your face and you grinned.

“Are these for me?” you took them after he nodded, pouting at how cute this way. “Seriously, you shouldn’t have,” you gushed. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, wishing the ground would just swallow him whole. 

A young man came over soon after, bringing you to a table in the far corner. You sat on the chair on the outside, him on the chair on the inside facing you. Bread sticks, menus and condiments decorated the table. 

You scanned the menu, and he spoke from behind his, “You also look great,”

You giggled, “Thank you,”

You placed your orders, and the waiter left. He twiddled his thumbs awkwardly, looking anywhere but at you.

“It’s a beautiful night,” you leaned back, gazing out the window. He let out a hum, looking at you, then back at the restaurant with a confused look. You followed his gaze, finding nothing behind you. “Is… everything okay?”

“Perfect. Everything’s perfect,” he trailed off, clearing his throat and just now seeming to notice the bottle non alcoholic spritzer, which he made quick work of opening and pouring into the two wine glasses. He picked yours up to hand it to you, and only now did you notice the intensity of his tremor.

“You seem nervous,” you took the glass from him and he ducked his head, a small smile appearing.

“You’re not supposed to mention that,” he chuckled.

“It’s hard to ignore, I feel bad, is there anything I could do to soothe your nerves?”

“No you’re perfect- I mean it’s perfect,” he furrowed his eyebrows. “I’m fine. It’s fine,”

“Right,”

“Right,”

A moment of silence washed over you two, and the food was delivered. You stared down at the pizza for a moment. “What’s your favorite movie?” 

He pushed a tongue into his cheek, “Where the Willows grow,” he smiled.

You raised an eyebrow, “Didn’t you write that one?”

He chuckled, giving a slight nod, raising his hands in surrender.

You whistled, “Thought you could pull a fast one on me? Jokes on you mr smart guy, I did my homework,”

“Oh yeah? Me too, miss know it all,”

You leaned closer, and so did he. “Tell me something I don’t know,”

“Mhm. I know you turned down writing for vogue,”

“Pfft, public information,” you pressed your tongue in your cheek. “I know you had a rebellious phase,”

He gasped, jaw dropping slightly before he recollected himself with a soft chuckle. “You really went for the jugular huh…” he whistled. “You didn’t happen to see any photos of that?”

“Nope. Surprisingly almost all were scrubbed clean from the internet. How fascinating,” you giggled.

“Then?”

“I have connections, pretty boy,” you winked and he made an impressed face, taking a sip of his drink. “Looks like I did more research,”

“Don’t jump the gun here,” he smirked, leaning back and gazing at you from behind his glasses. “I know that hit that was sent out on you wasn’t fake,” 

You raised your eyebrows, leaning forward a bit. “Color me impressed, where’d you learn that one?”

He mocked, “Connections,”

“Are you part of the NIS or something?” you asked, half joking, “Don’t kill me, I have a wife and kids,”

He smiled, shaking his head softly. “No. Just a really huge fan,” he leaned forward as well. “Why’d you try to make it look staged?”

“Make sure people won’t get any ideas,” you frowned.

“Smart girl,” he said with an impressed face.

You swallowed thickly, looking at his eyes, then momentarily down to the food. He moved back, leaning his head against the wall behind him, eyes snapping from behind you back down to the food. You turned around, finding nothing, feeling creeped out.

“Can I ask you… a personal question?” He said, looking at his hands. Which were using a fork and knife to cut his pizza. How posh.

“Shoot,”

“What’s your favorite color?” he deadpanned, you gave an incredulous look till a hint of a smile appeared on his face.

“A little deep for a first date, no?”

“Sorry,” he grinned. “It’s a must,”

You gestured to your outfit, “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Good choice,”

“What’s yours?” you humoured him.

“I don’t think I have one,”

“Oh,” you pursed your lips, “Then why’d you ask?”

“Good conversation starter,” he shrugged.

You nodded slowly, “Sooo, do you have any siblings?”

He smiled, “Stop asking me questions you know the answer to,”

“Fair, but still,”

“Fine I’ll bite, I’m an only child,”

“Makes a lot of sense,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you giggled. “Guess you’re just very… formal,”

“That’s code for weird isn’t it?” he dropped his head and you kicked him gently under the table.

“You’re a little weird, but in a nice way,”

He rolled his eyes playfully, “Thanks,” His eyes landed on another table and he furrowed his brows, this time you scoffed.

“Did you come here to finish me off or something?” you turned around fully, narrowing your eyes to try to find what seemed to distract him so much. Finally, you caught it.

“Have they been there the whole time?” you asked and he nodded. You sighed heavily, turning to face him then getting up, “One moment,” you stormed over before he could stop you, snatching the newspaper from your friend, who wore a fake mustache.

You whisper-yelled, “What gives?!”

“Just making sure you’re fine!” she matched your tone.

A cough from behind you alerted you that her dad was also doing the same. You went back to the table, fumbling in your purse for the tab when Yu grabbed your hand, “What’re you doing?”

“Paying. Since apparently privacy doesn’t exist here,” 

He got up, “I got it,”

“No i insis-”

“I got it.” he said firmly, effectively shutting you up. He walked over, scanned his card, you grabbed your purse and flowers before leaving.

The fallen leaves on the sidewalk crunched against both of your shoes. You still simmered inside from her little stunt, and he wore a very uncomfortable look.

“Listen I’m really sorry about them,”

“Who are they?”

“Family friends,” you sighed, “Didn’t realise they were watching,”

He stared at you for a while before breaking into a fit of laughs, “Oh my god, I thought you were being stalked or something. I was a moment away from calling the cops,”

You giggled too, trying to hide your embarrassment. He continued, “It’s kind of sweet though, if I was a serial killer that would've been handy,”

“You wouldn’t have killed me in the middle of the store,”

“No. I would’ve invited you back to my apartment and done it there,”

You were nearing a park when you finally worked up the courage to slide your hands into his, “How romantic,”

He hesitated, then squeezed your hand, still wearing a stupid little smile. You nudged his shoulder and he tilted his head slightly.

“This is a date right?” you teased and he shrank slightly, glancing at his shoes.

“I really messed it up the first time huh,” he pouted.

“This can just be our first time,”

“That’s not how that works,”

“Who’s counting anyways? Plus the flowers you sent were pretty cute,”

“You think?” he said under his breath, trying to suppress an even wider smile.

“Yeah. My cat really liked them as well,”

He made an ‘aww’ face, “You have a cat?”

“Yes!” you giggled, “he’s the cutest little thing ever,”

“How fitting,” he smiled and you bit your lip, looking away from him. “Has he got a name?”

“Not yet, no,” you replied. “He’s a rescue,”

“Ah, you’re a pretty moral person then,”

“I try,” 

“What breed is he?”

“Ah I forgot the name, one of those expensive ones,”

“Persian? Ragdoll? Short hair?” 

You were cut off when a frisbee came flying at the two of you, almost hitting him in the head but he dodged. A dog ran past you both, a huge one, like a german shepherd or husky, in search of the frisbee, effectively knocking you into him. He stopped you from falling, watching the dog owner with a disappointed glare. The man called out a half hearted apology, and you stood up straight. 

“Are you okay?” 

You nodded, “Yep,”

“How about dessert?” 

You huffed, “You’re a bad influence on me, I’m already full,”

“Come on I’m sure you have room for something sweet,”

You both walked over to his car, he opened the door for you and you sat on the maroon leather seats.

“It’s still impressive every time,” you mused as he entered, starting the engine with a shrug.

“My dad and I worked on this one when I was a teenager,”

“No shot,” you scoffed. “It’s ridiculously nice. Didn’t peg you as a car guy though,”

“I’m not, he is, but it got me working with my hands,”

“Ah so you’re like a crafty person?”

“No,” he chuckled. “Moment there’s hot glue involved I fail. I like mechanical work though.”

“Like… changing tires?”

“Do you know a single person who likes changing tires?”

“You maybe,”

“No, I don’t like changing tires. I do like upgrading cars though,”

“Despite not being a car guy,”

“Despite not being a car guy, yes,”

He pulled into a parking lot of a quaint little 24/7 type shop that sold all kinds of processed goodies.

“This is quite the contrast to where we were last time,” you hummed, stepping out of the car, lacing your hands with his again. This time he reciprocated with more confidence.

“Food’s good here, they’ve got good snacks,”

“Aren’t you like a billionaire? Don’t you have like fancy butlers in your house to get you food?” he shook his head in mock annoyance, opening the glass door and letting you in first.

“I’m not like a billionaire, I am a billionaire,”  you scoffed and he chuckled, “Plus, no fancy anything could ever compare to these,” he grabbed a soda for himself, then one for you.

“So a trust fund baby. How’d you know it was my favorite?” you furrowed your eyebrows, taking the vanilla drink.

“Thought we already established I did my homework,” he pressed the cold drink into your arm playfully, which made you squirm away from him. “Is that all you see me as?”

“No,” you said on the way to the register, he grabbed a heart shaped cake. “Sorry, used to being able to slip insults in when talking to the upper bracket,”

“And they just let you?”

“Well to be fair they likely miss it, or maybe they let it slide I don’t really know,”

“Makes sense…”

You raised an eyebrow, he grabbed the plastic bag and stared at you with a small smile, continuing, “If such a pretty girl insulted me I’d also let it go,” he walked past you, and you stared at his back as he left, then caught up to him.

“Smooth,” unmistakably so, his cheeks bore a reddened color.

Outside, you struggled a bit to open your soda, considering the cold made you lose your dexterity, so he offered to help. As he came to hand you back your drink, he miscalculated the pass, and it slipped, spilling directly on you. You gasped, and his jaw fell.

He immediately retracted his hand, switching between covering his mouth and stumbling words.

“I’m so sorry,” he finally got to, slipping his sweater off to give to you, leaving him in a button up.

You overcame the shock finally, and laughed, which made him falter. 

“It’s fine, no big deal,” you replied, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“No, I should've been more careful,” he shook his head, pulling the sweater over your head, and smiling when you peaked at him. He helped you slip your arms into the respective armholes, then tugged it to straighten it on you.

“It was an honest mistake,”

“Still, I’m really sorry, it was a nice dress,”

“Washing machines exist,” You made a show of putting a hand on your hip, “How does it look?”

“Cute,” he said simply, maintaining his proximity to you.

Perhaps you two would have kissed, had the rain not began to pour in buckets on the street, making you both sigh in annoyance.

“There goes our plans,”

He stared off for a moment, “I live right there… if you’d like to maybe…” he continued the sentence under his breath.

“Wow. Was this all some kind of ploy to take me back to your house? Is this rain even real?” you teased, and his face reddened.

“No I just-”

“And why? Does your car not work in the rain?” you poked his side- he looked like a kicked puppy. “I’d love to,” you responded before the man burst into flames.

He breathed out a sigh of relief, then nodded, “My car’s allergic to water,” he joked.

A short little run to a huge door later, you were in a spacious lobby to a complex. Your heels clicked and clacked against the marble ground, clothes clinging uncomfortably to your skin. 

You held your arms close to your body, shivering at the blaring AC while he led you to the elevator. 

A man in black holding a pistol in his hand, wearing sunglasses in doors and an earpiece stood near the elevator, no doubt security personnel.

“Mr Yu,” the man ducked his head, and Yu matched his greeting. You remained invisible, a nice change of pace anyways. 

The elevator dinged, and a small old woman emerged, doused in branded clothing and expensive accessories. She stared at the drenched floors, then up to you both. Stepping out of the elevator, she held her umbrella close to her body, looking furious. 

“What if someone slips?!” she yelled, swatting Yu’s arm with the umbrella. He chuckled slightly and she turned to the guard as you both entered the elevator, “He brings one woman around all of a sudden he’s all rebellious,” she tsked, then turned back to you both as the elevator closed, giving you a once over. “No sleepovers,” she said just as the doors shut.

You blinked at the wall for a few moments, Yu scanning his keycard to take you up to the twentieth floor. You stood side by side, unmoving, until finally, you started to laugh, and so did he. 

“Who is that?” you said between giggles.

“My neighbour,” he replied, recovering his composure.

“She’s so cute,”

“She’s a lot of things alright,” he scoffed, and you pinched his arm.

The elevator dinged open, and you entered his apartment, still sopping wet. He set the cake down on the kitchen island, then gestured for you to follow him to his room. The entire walk you couldn’t help but gape at the sheer size of the rooms in his house, you weren’t poor by any means, but this was another level of rich. His room was down the hall, to the right, the door was ajar. He pushed it open, the epitome of neat. Perhaps he had orchestrated it so you’d come over. 

“Wow,” you stepped in after him, marvelling at how minimalist it was. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was a hotel. Sleek design of black on red, with abstract paintings and a huge window wall. He slid his closet door open, pulling out sweat pants and a hoodie, then turning to you. 

“Here,” he smiled, and you took them gratefully.

“Thank you,” you said sweetly. He stepped out to give you privacy to change, and you drew the curtains shut. You heard the door of another room shut, likely that he’s also switching to dry clothing.

You peeled the wet clothes off of your body, replacing them with the warm clean ones he offered, shuddering as the air touched your skin. Once dressed, you inspected yourself in his floor length mirror, making sure you looked semi presentable before cracking the door open slightly. You stepped out experimentally, poking your head into his living room. You were momentarily distracted by quite the gem on the wall, a family photo above his fireplace. You took hesitant steps, stopping just in front of it.

There he was, no older than twelve years old, in between two very serious looking individuals. He looked so cute, in his little oversized glasses covering his innocent face.

“What’re you doing?” you jolted at the sound of his voice, turning to see him drying his hair with a towel, looking at you inquisitively. 

You struggled to find the words, feeling like you were caught red handed, “Sorry, came to look for you and saw this,” you turned to it again as he stood next to you. “It’s a very sweet photo,” you whispered softly.

You both just stared at it for a while, and you could see the contemplative look on his face through the glass reflection of the picture frame. He turned to you, offering a clean towel for your hair, then pulling you away wordlessly towards the kitchen.

You sat on opposite sides of the counter, him opening the plastic box to allow you to eat. So, with your forks, you ate quietly for a while, the soft ambience of the outside world drowning out your inhibitions.

“Yu,” you said with utmost care. He hummed non commitantly. “You don’t have a roommate or anything right?” you trailed a finger down the marble countertop.

He shot you a confused look. “No, I live alone,” he said slowly.

“RIght… right..” you responded, glancing back at the rooms. He followed your gaze, still just chewing. “So no one would disturb us,” your voice dripped with what you hoped came across as seduction. Maybe this was a little forward, but so was being in his apartment, in his clothes, at this hour. 

“...What?”

“Oh… you know… no one would hear us…” you secretly hoped he’d just get the hint.

He did not, instead now looking adequately disturbed, “Why?” He leaned back a fraction of a centimeter, not so discreetly trying to make sure you’re unarmed.

The look that crossed your face must have been so concerned that it alarmed him.

“Is there… something you want to say?” he asked, through a very poor attempt at a poker face.

“No… nothing,” you took a bite of cake to balm the sting.

“Did you wanna… do something?”

That made you perk up, and you nodded. He nodded too, “Like… watch a movie?”

Oh you sweet summer child. “Movie sounds great,” you said through gritted teeth.

One movie, containing the wrong kind of action, later, he offered you a ride home, which you graciously accepted. He had dried off your dress from earlier, and you wore it again, thanking him profusely for the change on the elevator ride down while he apologised again for messing your dress up. The ride home this time was filled with chatter, and giggles, and reminiscing of this date and the last one, which you dubbed a business meeting. He parked in front of the building, and walked you to the entrance of your apartment complex.

“So this is my stop,” you smiled, and he let out a long, awkward, breath of air.

“I had a great time tonight,” he started, “And I’m sorry again about your dress, and last time,”

“Again, water under the bridge,” you stepped forward a little, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “Plus, you kind of already made it up to me,” he chuckled. “Tonight was wonderful, thank you for the flowers.. And the food.. And the company,”

You stared at each other for a while, wedged in place, both faces painted with smiles.

“Good night,” he said through half lidded eyes.

You leaned in without thinking, kissing him on the cheek. “Good night, Yu,”

..

By this point, you’d gotten pretty comfortable around each other, 2 years is a long time.

You’d finally, finally, found a worthy thing to talk about, a scandal involving mistreatment of staff by a particular director. He was notorious for being a billionaire playboy, but behind closed doors it appears he’d been sued frequently for abuse of power and creating a hostile workplace. You knew him, of course, you’d interviewed him time and time again, allowed all his remarks about you to slide in order to stay professional. You spent a while working on smaller projects to give yourself adequate time to really flesh out the story, find sources and under the table witnesses. It cost your agency a hefty sum, but they knew the payout would be massive.

It was another one of those late night writing sessions, propped up on your kitchen counter, sipping on a juice box while writing out some notes. Your door opened, you craned your head, casting Philip a smile.

“Hey babe,” he grinned as he entered, giving your cat a little poke as he passed into your kitchen, only stopping to give you a kiss on the cheek. “Hey,” you responded, “Didn’t know you’d be coming over tonight,”

“Needed a change of pace,” he grumbled, undoing his tie and the top two buttons. “I’m going crazy,”

“Don’t do that,” you giggled, he joined you by sitting on a stool next to you.

“Whatcha working on?” he lit a cigarette, casting you a sheepish look through his eyelashes, “Sorry,”

“Just make sure to open the window,” you rolled your eyes, “An article,”

“No shot,” he rolled his eyes, offering you a hit. You accepted. “What kind of article? About what?”

“Do you remember ‘anchor’?”

“Anchor?” he kissed his lips, “The bald director guy?”

“Ding ding ding,” you exhaled the smoke, passing it to him again. “He’s been involved in a lot of major controversies recently, for some reason completely untouched by the media,”

He messed with the waistband of your pants absentmindedly, “Don’t you think there might be a reason for that?”

“Absolutely. Money,”

“Not just that. Tell me you’re not writing an article about a man who won’t hesitate before ending your career, and then you,” he rubbed his forehead.

You shrugged, “I’ve done worse. Besides, he’s a really crappy person,”

“If you die you better come back to haunt me,” he joked, getting up and killing his cigarette in the sink, then kissing your forehead. 

“Done deal,” you watched him scoop your cat up in one hand.

The cat meowed in protest, and he meowed back, flopping down on your couch. You could see him from here, holding the little feline up in air jail.

“Why do I have to end up with the one girl that has a death wish?” he asked ‘muffin’ dramatically, who meowed in agreement. “You’re right. She’s reckless. And when she inevitably bites the dust for messing with the wrong people I’m donating you to science,”

“PHILIP YU,”

…

The closer you got to the deadline, the more anxious you became, trying your best to perfect every detail down to the synonyms. Yu became more distant as the time grew, but you chalked it up to cumulative stress from his job and parents. You were just fixing up your final draft in your office, deciding on a title when he walked in holding a brown paper bag. He closed the door behind him, avoiding your prying eyes.

“Well this is a surprise,” you mused, inspecting the bag, which contained a singular cupcake in it, “not unwelcome though,” you took it out, humming at the chocolatey flavor. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He forced a smile, sitting down opposite you, “Can we talk for a moment?”

“If it’s bad news maybe let's talk later? I’m about to finally send this in,” you smiled, he shook his head.

“Don’t… send it in, yet at least,”

You stared at him for a moment, he didn't speak. “Yu…”

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you. The meetings I’ve been attending… have actually been with anchor.”

Your eyebrows shot up, he resumed. “I know you’re not entirely fond of him, but he’s presenting me with an opportunity I can’t decline,” his shoulders slumped. “You know how hard it’s been trying to get back in the scene.”

“He’s going to exploit you,” you dropped your voice an octave. “He’ll suck you dry from ideas and take all the credit Phil this is a bad idea,”

“I don’t have another choice!”

“Okay…” you sighed. “Okay.” you stared down at your computer, then the cupcake, then up at him. “Wait a minute, are you asking me not to expose him?”

He gave a singular nod. “I know this is really crappy of me,” you stood up, and he matched it, putting his arms up in surrender. “He told me he loved my concepts, but by association with you and your article people will be more inclined to believe your gossip because they’d think you got it from me,”

“My gossip?” you scoffed, rounding the table to stand face to face. “This gossip is what kept me afloat, is what allowed victims to come forth with their stories, it’s my job!”

“And this is mine!”

He stood up, matching your offensive stance, “You know how important this is for me- this is huge!”

“I put in weeks of effort into this!”

“Please,” his voice broke, arms grabbing your shoulder,  face inches from yours. “I need this,”

You pushed his arms off of you, scoffing loudly. “I need this! I’m tired of reporting small town news,”

“Just a little while longer and the-”

“No! You’re not thinking clearly!” you stomped your foot loudly, in the fashion of a tantrum. “You go into this deal it’s a lose-lose situation,”

“Who loses here?”

“You lose to his claws, and I lose work that I lost sleep over,”

“You’ll find something else, he’s not a bad guy-”

You swiped your hands down your face, sniffing, “Phillip have you listened to a single thing I’ve ever said about him or did you just tune me out?”

“I listened,” he crossed his arms.

“DId you hear how he’s a master manipulator? Sued countless times over for misconduct? Known for producing a hostile work environment? Preying on trusting people? Did you hear me say all those things, and cite my sources?”

He sighed, staying quiet and staring at the ground. His eyes glistened.

You licked your lips, “Listen-”

“No you listen,” he said, meeting your gaze firmly. “If you post this article….” he stared at the ceiling, keeping his tears at bay, “We’re done,”

It was so quiet in there, you were sure he could hear your heartbeat. “Excuse me?” you scoffed.

“I- I mean it.”

“You’re dumping me because of… a producer?”

“Director, and not because of him, it’s the prin-”

“Get out,”

A/N: UGH okay this took literal ages because A- uni's been a major pain and B- lost interest in the story. Oops. anyways, enjoy this, the ride's almost over!!Taglist:

@entr4p3 @vlurdao @sweet1squash

[the-ate-show]

00:04

Skin and Bones

Wc: 7.7k

WARNING: this chapter does contain some content that hints at smut BUT it's fade to black dw, this is sfw :3

That night, you wandered out of your room, dazed. You walked down the steps, unable to control the helplessness that pierced your heart. You skipped on the swings, or the seesaw, going towards the playset to sit up in its confines. You heard his footsteps, controlled and exasperated. He looked up at you from the foot of the slide, you stared down at him from where your head was hidden behind your knees.

“I was wrong,” you started.

7 gave a slow nod, with a sigh, “I know,” he gestured for you to come, but you didn’t budge. If you were to do anything except just sit here, you’d cry.

He very begrudgingly sat on the slide bottom.

“How’d you know she’d do it?”

“She doesn’t strike me as the type to pick peace over pride,”

“No, she isn’t,”

“Do you regret not picking 3?”

“Can’t say i do.” you sniffled. “Hunger, exhaustion, dehydration are all one thing. The feeling I'd get if I betrayed the one man in here who's actually reliable? Unimaginable,”

He let out a dry laugh, giving you a glance out of the corner of his eye. “Harsh,”

“Not harsh enough.” you paused, then let out a breath, “Why’d you do that yesterday?”

“Do wh-”

“You know what I’m talking about, Yu.”

“Kiss you?” you nodded, lips tucked in. He shrugged.

“Did you know I’d get mad?”

He looked down at his hands, nodding slowly like a child fessing up to crimes. “I… Got a little caught up I guess,”

“In what?”

“You.” “Oh save it, you just wanted to get me on your side.”

He bit his lips. “Maybe a little bit of both,” he hummed, tapping on the plastic. 

“Okay mr genius, how do we fix this mess?”

“Grovel,”

“I’m not doing that,”

“And then you’ll starve,”

“You okay?” a female voice suddenly joined, 2. 

“I’m okay, you?” she sat next to you on the playset, and you leaned your head on her shoulder.

“Hungry,” she let out a breath of air. “Can’t sleep.” she looked over and gave a nod to 7, who returned it.

“How’re we gonna fix this?” she asked you, and you shook your head.

“7 sai-”

“I wasn’t asking 7,” she says with more venom than necessary. Oh she doesn’t like him very much right now, perhaps she knows he voted for 3. “What do you think we should do?”

“Starve,”

“Actually?”

You lifted your head, “8 doesn't want to leave the show, if one of us dies she’d have to. So,”

“She’ll just give us enough food to keep us alive,” 7 responded.

“But she can’t control whether or not we eat it,”

“You’d kill yourself just to prove a point?”

“Might as well go out with a bang,” you breathed out.

2 gives you a glance and a comforting pat on the shoulder, “We should go, it’s almost midnight, plus you’re already starting to lose it.”

Another two days of torture passed, where 5 begged, 6 pleaded, and the rest could barely muster the energy to leave their room. You found yourself with 3 frequently these days. Seemed that he outweighed you in the awkward department, and with him there was no social pressure to be cool. Hunger gnawed at your body, threatening your soul along too with its persistent cracking of your resilience. 

5 was taking it the worst, on a day where you all lounged tiredly in the common area, she randomly got up. She was excited, thanking 8 for coming down with the meal kits, and beckoning everyone over to eat. You all stared in confusion. 3 gave you a look and you shrugged. 1 was the one to break her out of her trance, walking up to her and asking if she was okay. She isolated herself after that. 

On the third day, something in 3 snapped. He burst into tears, apologising, saying he’d just take the waste instead. Though you weren’t sure why he cried, you empathised with him. 3 got up to beg, but was promptly stopped by 7, who said this needed rationality, and less feelings involved. Like a knight in shining armour, he rose the steps with straight posture, the effects of hunger inevident on his body, except just under his eyes. Sunken. Tired.

. . .  

“God, the day you learn how to take care of yourself is the day pigs fly,”

“I hate that metaphor,”

You sighed, walking up to his bed ridden form and slotting your hand against his forehead. “Worse than I thought.”

“Hot?”

“No, can’t tell the difference between a metaphor and an idiom,”

“No but I can tell the difference between a metaphor and an idiot,” he laughed at his own joke, then coughed, and then groaned. “I haven’t felt sick since I was like twelve,”

You frowned, staring at his sunken eyes with their purplish bags. You set up a few meds, so he could have them after he ate, “C’mon, sit up.”

“Can’t. Gonna die.” Why are men always so dramatic?

“That’s a little dark.” you helped him sit up, bringing the noodles and soup out. He glanced at them, then at you, a lazy look in his face.

“Grown man and can’t even feed himself,” you mumbled playfully, and then brought a spoon up to him.

“I can. Just tastes better from your hands,”

. . . 

He emerged about twenty minutes later, giving a singular nod. Good job 7.

She emerged with him, and bought clothes to satisfy her ever growing greed. You rested at the stairs near 3’s room, with him and 2. 7 Joined shortly after, smoking with 3. 

2 was particularly annoyed at 8 for buying clothes, and 7 gave another evil mastermind type speech about how if we waited we would’ve been her slaves. At that comment, you shot him a look. 

The call is coming from inside the house sweets, you’re already her slave.

That night, the food was delivered, and you hate to say it took all of 3.5 seconds for all your resolve to fade. You devoured every last grain of rice, every little protein, you almost ate the actual plastic. You winced as you stared at the plate, the food was unfamiliar. Hopefully you won’t die, or go into shock. Again. 

The next morning, you all grouped together again by the faux pool, 8 suggested what she’d spent her vacation days conjuring up, the King’s game. 

It goes as follows, you each draw a ping pong ball with a number one through seven, one person having a ball with the letter ‘K’, that person picks two numbers and gives them a dare. The two numbers reveal themself and do it. Easy enough.

5 protested first. “Doesn’t that game usually involve inappropriate stuff, not that I’m against dirty games or anything…”

“Not necessarily,” 1 responded comfortingly.

“Sounds hot, I’m in,” 6 said.

7 spoke next, “I agree. Unlike the talent show, there’s no unequal contributions.”

“I’m in too,” 5 said.

“Me too,” 1.

“Whatever,” 2.

You nodded to 8, and finally, 3 gave an over enthusiastic agreement. Poor guy, the human fertilizer in his room must've messed with his head.

Thus commenced the game, 5 was the first ‘king’, she picked her two and five and ordered them to hold hands. When no one spoke, you stood next to her and repeated it. Funnily enough, it was 7 and 6. They looked like siblings forced to get along. Or maybe…lovers. You laughed out loud at your own joke, causing a few people to turn to look at you. Namely, a glare from 7.

“Something funny 4?” 6 asked and you nodded. He all but growled at you then looked down and then gave 7 a disgusted look. “Man don’t lace your fingers!”

“Oh sorry,” he went to undo their hands.

You had to hold your stomach from how hard you laughed, unlike 3 who actually stifled his.

“Nope, keep your hands intertwined until the next round,” 5 said cruelly. 

The next round, you parted your thumbs to reveal, K. YIPPEE!! 

“I’m the king,” you said with a huge grin. Part of you hoped 7 would get selected, and then you’d make him do something really stupid so he’d lose his nonchalant credibility. Maybe you’d make him dance. He was an awful dancer. 

“I pick six and seven,” you paused. This was easier to play with people who you actually knew well. With these folks, things wouldn’t be as funny as they are awkward. “Hug,”

“C’mon,” 8 whined, “Do something fun!”

“This is fun,” you frowned.

“Make them kiss!”

“That’s cruel!” No it wasn’t, it was hilarious, but she needed to back off. Maybe when she became king she could pick.

Good thing you stood your ground, because it was the two most innocent people known to man- 5 and 1. They hugged, albeit very awkwardly, and thus concluded your round.

At the next draw, 8 was the lucky girl. 

“Three… and seven… French kiss.” What kink is this?

2 raised her hand, and so did 3. He was a lot more hesitant than her though.

“C’mon, kiss.” 8 repeated, and 2 sized her up.

“What if I don’t? Let’s make this more exciting, I’ll do anything but that,”

“Well, good because in that case you and 3 aren’t a good pairing anyways. 2 and whoever has the number two… fight. A single round,”

7 dropped his head, and 6 bounced his ball. It was him, because of course it was. 

He gave a cocky smirk to a very unimpressed 2. “They say only pussies fight girls,”

She laughed dryly, “You sure you aren’t one?”

“For a girl as lanky as you, you're full of hot air,” they each toss their balls, unnecessary and dramatic, then move a little away. You move closer to watch, hands anxiously covering your mouth. 

6 threw a punch, which 2 guided to bring him down in a single motion while being unmoved. He is on the ground now. Back up, he punches, she dodges, repeatedly, until she lands a blow that makes him again. This drags on for a while, his anger palpable. She kicks him into the pool, he falls flat on his behind. He doesn’t surrender. More dodging, more punching, until she gasps. She clutches her arm with a pained groan, and he takes his opening. 6 lunges at the temporarily weakened woman, targeting her hand, then pulling her hair, then almost breaking her fingers. She fell to her knees, and he kicked her, then got on top of her.

“He’s gonna kill her!” you screamed in horror, moving to help but getting stopped by 8’s hand.

“Someone stop this!” 5 yelled as he continued to punch, blood splattered from her hopeless figure

“Why? No one surrendered yet,” 8 said with a weirdly happy expression.

7’s hands curl at his sides, and he rushes forward trying to grab 6. 6 flung him back and 7 grunts at the contact with the ground. 3 and 1 join forces with 7, and they all tackle 6 to get him off, while he continues to yell profanities and for her to surrender. You ran forward, sliding onto your knees next to 2. She sputtered blood, and convulsed. You cupped the back of her head softly, mouth opening then closing again. This was such a mess. Your lips quivered, and you slid your jacket off, wiping the blood from her cheeks. 6 celebrated in the distance his victory, 50 whooping hours.

5 patched 2 up back in her room. 2 had kicked you out, much to your dismay. 

You sat with your knees to your chest, staring at your bloodied jacket. 5 returned.

‘“We can't keep doing this, you took it too far 6, she’s in bad shape now,”

“Isn’t that what a fight is about?”

“If we get asked to fight again, is that gonna happen?” 1 asked. 6 gave him a look over his shoulder.

“Only if you're cheeky,” he gave you a pointed glance at that.

“No, let’s exclude things like fighting from now on,” 7 said, hands on his hips. “We don’t have the facilities to treat injuries, it could cause permanent damage,”

“We’re gonna run out of time quickly like that. Just kissing?” 8 said.

“There’s other fun things we can do outside of fighting,” you tried. “I’m sure we’ll come up with something,”

“How about a penalty,” 8 suggested. “So you can chicken out, and we still get time.”

“Like, twenty pushups?” you responded.

“No.. more like,”

A taser. That psycho bought a taser.

“Don’t horses usually get knocked down by that?”

“Yes,” she smiled. “I’ve never been tased before. Seems like fun,”

There was simultaneous agreement from 5, 6 and 8. So taser it is.

“A taser,” you mumbled to yourself, swinging on the swingset that night, a cigarette in hand. “A taser.”

“A taser,” 7 mimicked you, sitting by you in the other swing. “We’re screwed,”

“We?” He raised an eyebrow. “No 7, you’ll go and talk to her and she’ll kiss it better,” 

A small, almost imperceivable smile appeared on his lips. No response.

You huffed, taking another deep inhalation. “What do you want?”

“To talk,”

“Really? You’ve said three words since coming here,”

“You look angry,”

“You should've skipped the screenwriting and taken a career as a body language analyst.”

“Sorry,”

“For what?”

“Kissing you. It was wrong. Foul play on my end. And maybe for getting you back into smoking,” he gently takes it out of your hand, and puts it between his lips. “And for lying,”

“About what?”

“About kissing you partially to get you on my side,”

“It was fully to get me on your side?” 

He shook his head after a beat of silence. “It hadn’t occurred to me- that it could have even been interpreted that way. I’d never… use you like that. You know that right?”

“Could've fooled me,” you watched him exhale the smoke. “How rude, you just stole my cigarette then you smoke it all angsty,”

He chuckled, “Stop trying to change the subject,”

“I find it hard to believe that you are sorry,”

“Why emphasis on me? I've apologised before?” he cocked his head to the side, raising an eyebrow.

You didn’t respond, gazing blankly at the wall in front of you, swaying on the swingset gently.

“Is there anything else you wanted to say?”  you crossed your arms, shivering slightly.

He stared at you, a sadness present in his eyes. He wanted to say more, to have you say something. He would have settled for anything, yelling, punching, screaming- he hated this icy wall between you two. Impenetrable.

Or seemingly so.

“Why didn’t you pick up?” you asked, sniffing slightly.

“Hm?”

“When I called… you let it go to voicemail,”

Okay, this is way worse than yelling, punching and/or screaming.

He let out a soft exhale, shaking his head, “Couldn’t face it,” his eyes casted to his shoes, he dug his heels mindlessly into the ground. “The consequences of my actions,”

The following day, you got up early to check on 2. No one else was up. You knocked, and knocked and knocked, eventually, she opened it.

“2-” she slammed it shut in your face again. Then, she slowly cracked it open.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure- because that-”

“I’m sure.” her eye went down to your blood stained jacket, then back to your face. You did your best to pretend not to notice. This time, when she shut the door, you knew to just go.

Later on, when the game’s were almost starting, 5 emerged.

“How’s 2?” 3 asked and 5 gave a sorrowful expression.

“She’ll be in more pain than she was in yesterday, it’s unlikely she’ll be joining us,”

“Nice makeover,” 6’s voice interrupted between drags of his cigarette. You followed his gaze to… 2. Quite the woman.

You filled her in about the taser, and you each got to select your balls.

“Wow!” 8 squealed, “I’m the king! Okay, four.. Touch five’s… breasts! Under clothes,”

Gasps filled the air.

“I umm, I have 5,” 5 said shyly.

“Who’s four?” 8 asked, and 3 very awkwardly raised his hand.

The two of them moved to the swingset. You watched this scene with mortification. 8 kept counting down, and 3 kept chickening out.

“Tase me!” he suddenly blurted. “I mean, I’ll take the penalty,”

“It’s fine y-”

“No. I’ll take it,”

He stood at the top of the small metal slide, smoothing his clothes over, the nerves clearly getting the better of him.

“Wait,” 7 stood up from the spinny thing, and walked closer, “You could get hurt, so you should probably sit down,”

“In front of the slide? What if he falls over?” you asked, to no one in particular. “Usually several big guys are holding the dudes getting tased, at least from what I’ve seen on youtube,” 3 shot you a poorly masked terrified look. 

“It’ll be fun this way,” 6 chuckled. 

After a few beats of hesitation, 5 tased 3 on his bare neck, who convulsed then fell forward as predicted. He slid down the slide almost anticlimactically. Everyone ran up to see his unconscious form, asking if he was okay. You were instead met with the pooling of fluid in front of you. Poor guy. 

“Sixty hours,” 6 scoffed. 

Back in his room, tucked in his bed and laying comfortably. You, 1, 2, and 5 watched as 3 suddenly arose. He lifted the newspapers blanketing him, and pretty much curled into a ball in the corner.

“You should've just touched my breasts,” 5 said to the cocoon.

“No, he acted like a real man,” 2 replied.

“I’d like you all… to leave,”

“3-”

“Please,”

And so you did. You leaned your head against the door momentarily, and you could hear his not so quiet sobs.

The next day, you drew your numbers again. 8 was, not shockingly, the king again, and you were really starting to wonder what kind of probability that had. You shot 7 a look, which he returned. He picked it up too. 

She picked the numbers one and two, and 3 collapsed into a heap, relieved he wasn’t picked. 

2 and 6 were picked.

“Wanna go again?” 6 said with a smirk. 

2 scoffed but 8 decided, and the game was a simple coin flip. Except loser takes the penalty, which isn’t even how penalties work. In that case it should just be called punishment.

The coin was flipped, and the perky 8 asked their guesses.

“Tails,” 2 said.

“Well, heads.” 6 chuckled.

8 grinned ear to ear, and revealed her hand to show… heads.

Your heart broke a little at 2’s face, not even she could put a brave front in the face of the taser.

There was a moment of banter between them before he tased her, and you all watched as her lifeless body slinked down the metal, laying in a pool of her own fluids. 5 rushed with a mop, then 7 and 6 picked her up. You followed them with a furrow between your brows.

“Why’s she so heavy? She’s even heavier than him,” 6 grunted.

You shot 6 a maybe you’re just weak look and he caught it, glaring at you.

“We earned an extra two days,” 8 giggled, “We’re earning so much time- this is so electrifying!”

“Electryinging?” you scoffed out and she looked at you with her unwavering smile. “This is torture!”

“You haven’t even gotten tased! I’m sure it doesn’t hurt that bad,”

“Unbelievable. You are unbelievable!” you took a step forward before a hand harshly pulled your shoulder back. 6 was back already, and was now defending his little jewel.

He’d have to be defending different kinds of jewels if he didn’t take his hand off of you.

“Calm down,” he gave you a half smile, “No need to get violent,” 

“You know she’d sacrifice you in an instant too right? You don’t have immunity because you took it up the a-,” 

“What did you say?”

“4-” 7 grabbed your arm

“I said you don’t get immunity just cause she made you her bit-” You were cut off by the sharp sting of the back of his hand against your cheek. He growled.

“Watch what you say 4.”

“I’m not scared of you 6. All it takes is one command and 8 will have you wagging your tail,” you knew this was a bad idea, logically you’re just asking for it now. When he started to lunge at you you began to run, in a wild goose chase around the parameter. You’d been doing pretty good, jumping over the play things and ducking under things, until the stupid top floor tripped you. You landed flat on your back, and 6 pinned you down, with your wrists held above your head in one hand, his other hand free. 

“Still not scared?” he asked with crazed eyes. Well, he was going to kill you anyways, might as well. You spat at him, and he let out a shocked chuckle. 

“4 please!” 5 pleaded, coming closer to the scene. “6, she’s just angry! Please. Stop!”

“I’ll teach you how to behave”

“She used that line on you didn’t she?” you teased, and he punched you. You groaned, flexing your jaw.

“See how even 3 and 7 know not to cross me?” 6 leaned in really close. “They know not to act like little brats,”

“Careful, you're too barking loud, she might use the shock collar,” another punch, this time harder than the first. You felt the blood trickle down from your nose.

7 walked closer, “6, that’s enough. Both of you stop fighting this is unnecessary,”

You looked at him with an appalled expression. 6 matched it. 

“Apologise,” 6 said through gritted teeth.

“Make me,” his hand came to your throat, threatening you.

You took a long breath, “Do it. If the only people you can successfully pick on are women then you’re, what did you call it? Yeah, a pussy,” He pressed really hard, so hard you thought your throat might collapse. You were seeing dots and stars before you regained your thoughts, you weren’t some damsel, and if he went on longer you’d be toast. You brought your knee up harshly between his legs, and he immediately let you go, grabbing at his crotch in agony. You sat up, sputtering as oxygen flooded your system. 6 got up, a borderline predatory look now on his face. He walked towards you slowly, and you could hear pleas of “Stop!” continue, this time from almost everyone apart from 8. You crawled backwards slowly, breathing heavily.

His fests clenched at his sides. Harshly, he grabbed your arm and pulled you up to your feet, then used his body weight to force you to fall against the merry-go-round. Your skull hit one of the projecting bits, and you felt a sharp pain pierce your head. 

“You’re all bark. No bite,” he chuckled.

As you opened your mouth to retort, the sound of the taser stopped you dead in your tracks. You both looked over to 7, who held the weapon with a fierce look in his eyes.

“Enough. Both of you,” 

“I was only getting started 7,” the man looked back over to you, then up at the time. 34 hours earned from just that part of your fight.

“If you kill her the game ends,” 

“Doesn’t sound like a bad trade off, pass me the taser glasses,”

You shakily got up to your feet, wiping the blood that tainted your skin. Your eyes snapped to 7. 

“No. You both need to go cool down,” 6 sauntered off at that. 

You opened your mouth to bark at him, and 7 harshly slapped a hand over your mouth. 3 and 8 watched this happen- unbeknownst to you.

You two had a bit of a stare down.

He leaned in a little closer, “Don’t make me drag you up there,”

That night, you boiled in your room, stuffing your face with the food delivery. 6 was a bad fighter, hit with his fists without using his head. Had it not been for 2’s hurt wrist, he would've been taken down much sooner. You needed to get 2 to teach you how to fight, then you’d beat him to a pulp, make him regret ever touching you. A lapdog is what he is, obediently following instructions like a housepet, desperate for treats and sweet words. You were brought out of your endless pool of rage by a firm knock. You opened it, half expecting 2 to have woken up to come rant to you, and you were instead met with 7. You rolled your eyes, and let him in.

As soon as you shut the door, he gave you a very serious look, holding your upper arms to keep you close., “Don’t do that,”

“Do what?”

“Fight 6. Bad idea,”

“I’m fine,”

“Yeah but you almost weren’t fine. I’m beginning to think you have a death wish,” his grip tightened. “Did you even try patching yourself up??”

“They’re not bad injuries dude, ju-” he ignored you to wipe some of the blood that had splattered on you. 

“I’ll buy you something to patch up, come on,”

Reluctantly, you followed him up to his room. You sat down on top of his desk, he bought some alcohol and cotton pads.

He then returned to stand in front of you, setting the equipment down and scoffing. He tilted your chin up with one hand, then dipped the cotton pad into the alcohol, bringing it up to the wounds. You hissed and he gave you an unimpressed look.

“This is your fault, for instigating,”

“He was acting like 8’s bodyguard. Excuse me if i didn't want to play into her perfect princess fantasy,”

“That man could've killed you without a second glance,”

“Okay and he didn’t,” you spoke firmly.

His voice got slightly louder, “Because I stopped him.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” you matched his tone.

“You couldn’t have asked because you were too busy being beaten to death, princess,”

You scoffed, trying to get off the table but he pushed you back firmly.

He frowned, “I’m not done with you,”

“I am, move.”

“Not moving until I finish this,” he continued to clean at some cuts, you tried pushing his hand away but he just grabbed both of your hands and held them down, his other hand continuing its previous work.

It was silent for a while, tense, quiet. He finished up, planting a soft kiss just under the cut on your cheek. His breath fanned over your neck, and you swallowed.

“You scared the crap out of me,”

“Watching your ex girlfriend get beat up wasn’t satisfying?” you joked, trying to ease the tension.

He rested his head against your shoulder and shook his head, “Far from it,” he turned his head to meet your gaze. “I thought by not responding to your calls, or texts, and avoiding any place I knew you’d be, I could wipe myself clean. Start new. Move on- sigh, I don’t know. Breaking up with you was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made,” at that, he pulled you closer, bodies pressed together, his face tucked into your neck. “Couldn’t move on,” he whispered. “Kept on loving you,” 

“Yu,” you responded quietly. This was all too much. Too real. You dreamt of the very moment he’d come crawling back, and you’d send him right back to where he crawled out of, with a big fat REJECTED stamp on his head. Yet, this didn’t feel like a win. It felt like nothing but desires and regrets, because you too wanted this. You too wanted him to hold you, to trust you… to love you. And you wanted to say it, to scream it, to shake him and tell him you hated him then kiss him so intensely your lips bruised. It was almost midnight anyways. 

You dropped your shoulder slightly, and he looked at you with a tenderness that you knew from those days. You let out a small sound, almost akin to a cry, and yet it came with no tears. 

“It’s getting late,” you spoke quietly, avoiding his gaze. He pulled you off of the table slowly so you’d be on your feet, pressed between him and the metal structure. 

“Let me walk you down,” he pressed a kiss against your forehead, the kind of stunt he’d pull to get you to let him back in bed after he had a spat with your cat. He was pulling out all the cards for this apology. He laced his fingers with yours, and you walked down the stairs in relative silence. At your room, he stopped, leaning against the door.

“This is my stop,” you commented, your nerves getting the better of you.

“Mhm,”

You moved to walk past him, but with a simple finger looped in the waistline of your pants he pulled you back towards him. He leaned in really close, leaving only a breath of air between you guys.

“You’re a really good person,” and this time, when he punctuated the last part of the sentence with your nickname… you let him.

The following morning, to no one’s surprise, 6 was the king.

“Three… and seven. Slapping contest, first to chicken out loses. Loser is penalised.”

It was 2 and 3, friends you could even say, so this was even more tragic. You sat on the ground, too preoccupied with the scene about to unfold when you felt the burning sensation of someone’s gaze- 6. His eyes raked over your bruises and cuts, half lidded, scrutinizing you. You made an unflattered face, and both of you returned your gaze to the game.

At this moment, 2 slapped 3 so hard he fell onto the swing and immediately surrendered. As per your program, she tased him, they carried him off, celebrated the increase in hours, and then settled.

Despite the increase in time, they wanted to play one more round today. After picking through the balls, you grabbed yours and uncovered it. One.

6 was the king, again, a lucky jerk. 

“Okay… this is fun,” he smiled widely. “Four… and one…” you winced, but tried to stay still. After what you just witnessed, the fear of tasing became more imminent.  “Four do a strip tease for one,” Your gasp was so loud you didn’t need to clarify whether or not you were picked. 6 gave a little smirk, and you showed him that you were one. He groaned loudly.

7 raised his hand with a shameful expression, eyes casted down on the fake sneakers he wore.

“Is it too late to switch them?” 6 asked 8.

“That’s against the rules,” 2 advocated for you, and you smiled softly.

“Fine,” 6 sighed, then gave a dirty look to 7. “Do it upstairs, no one wants to see that,”

“I think I’ll just take the penalty,” you said with much uncertainty. If 3 could take the pain for 5, you could do it for 7.

“No, it’s fine,” 7 shut his eyes tightly and adjusted his glasses, then nodded up to his room.

“No, I really don't-”

He walked past you, shoulder bumping into yours as he grabbed your arm to tug you behind him. You continued to plead but he just shushed you harshly. You glanced down at the group, 2 in particular was smirking slightly.

Up the 7 flights of stairs later, he opened the door for you, still staring down as you entered. You leaned against his table, and he adjusted himself awkwardly after the door clicked shut.

“Yu,”

He held a hand up, “It’s not a big deal. I would've gotten tased if it was,”

“You haven’t even looked me in the eyes since getting told to do it,”

“It’s not exactly a walk in the park you know,”

“I-I know. Which is why-”

“You’re really stubborn. Just be quiet for once,” you knew this came from a place of embarrassment, so you let his vile words simmer out. He turned back around to face the door.

He shot you one final glance over his shoulder, then faced the door again, pulling his shirt off. You couldn’t help but trail your eyes over his back. When his arms dropped, you caught sight of the stick and poke you gave him.

“Hey, you kept it!” you got up, stepping closer. He stiffened suddenly, watching you intently as you held his arm to your face, inspecting the very amateur ink. “I thought you’d have gotten it removed,”

“I thought about it,” he responded quietly, “But,”

“But?”

“…You know what,”

You thought about last nights, and the sweet nothings he’d whispered to you. He dropped his head against the door. You sighed in response. Letting go of his arm, you stepped back a few paces. He finally turned around, taking his pants down in a simple motion. It’s a good thing this was the end point, because any further than this would’ve ended in quite the show for the cameras. And you. Your eyes wandered over him again. He gave you the items of clothing, and stood in the corner with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Are you cold?” you asked him as you went to walk out.

“Freezing. Get it over with,” he huffed.

You paused at the door, turning to look at him again. He shot you a questioning look. You turned to face him, passing your tongue over your teeth.

“Yu,”

“Lord help us all,”

“Let me ask the question,”

“Okay okay, what?”

“Did you mean what you said?” you started, “I thought this would just be a temporary thing between us but…”

“Is this really the time to ask?”

“It’s the time that’ll get me the least questions from the group. 2’s already onto me.”

“Onto you or on you?”

You hit him harshly with his jacket, and he chuckled, raising his arms in surrender.

“I’m serious,” you asked and he put his hands on his hips. Suddenly, the ceiling was a very interesting thing to stare at for you.

“What do you want me to say? What’s the diplomatic answer?”

“I don’t-”

“If I tell you I was serious, you get mad and tell me I have no right. If I tell you I wasn’t, you get mad for me stringing you along,” he swallowed thickly.

“Then why would you say it?”

“Because I was scared,” he stepped forward. “I thought he was going to kill you. Do you know how terrifying that is? I didn’t know…” he swallowed. “Didn’t realise how much I liked having you around…”

You met his gaze, matching its intensity.

His shoulder eased slightly, dropping his posture. “You’re not even gonna say anything?”

“I don’t really know what to say,” you smiled sadly, and he nodded in somber understanding.

You stepped out, showing to the group below that you held his clothing items. Some cheers and whistles, a few shocked giggles from people who expected him to chicken out, but the overall consensus was that it was over. You walked back in, and handed him his clothing. You chose to stare at the wall while he got dressed. 

“How much time did we earn?” he asked, and you could hear him unfolding his clothes.

“Two hours,”

“You’re gonna make me look bad,” he sighed and you giggled.

“What did you want me to do?”

“Not be a gentleman- gentlewoman?” 

You looked over your shoulder, “You wanted me to check you out? Is this an ego thing?”

He groaned. With his pants on now, he stepped closer, grabbing your upper arm softly. You froze, he was still very much not fully dressed.

“What’re you doing?” you said, still facing the chute.

“Earning us more time,” he twirled you around to face him, smirking when you unintentionally glanced downwards.

“Here? Are you insane?”

He laughed out loud, his hands went up to wipe his face, ridding himself of any hint of a smile in the process. His eyes burned with the intensity of a man who wanted much more.

His lips found your lips, working their way to your jaw, then neck, then shoulder, tugging at the collar of your top for better access. His hands traced your body, going down your sides and stopping at your hips, his thumb rubbing circles into the clothing. 

“We shouldn’t-”

“Then tell me to stop,” his voice was abrupt, just barely above a whisper, a rasp to it that sent chills dancing down your spine.

You ignored his suggestion. He continued his endeavour, using techniques you knew would leave a questionable mark. His hands roamed from your hips to your waist, and it snapped you back to reality, eyes looking up at the cameras in front of you, then turning your head to the ones behind you. He grabbed your chin softly, pulling your attention back to him. 

“Eyes on me.” 

.

..

…

Screw it.

You emerged 30 minutes later, frazzled and flushed. The time had increased by a solid 100 hours since you���d last seen it. You did a double take, but 7 just smiled at you discreetly as he descended the tedious steps. 

You stared at your shoes, a heat burning your cheeks. You adjusted your clothes for the millionth time, with the way people stared, you considered you may have forgotten to get dressed or something.

“Wasn’t just a strip tease huh,” 6 mused and you turned away, avoiding his gaze.

“What the hell you got under there 7th?” 8 giggled. “Now I’m curious too!”

He sputtered a bit, cheeks going a little red, mostly because he knew the offer was serious.

2 put a hand on your shoulder, and you flinched. She leaned in, “Did you do it safely?” you elbows her harshly in response, and she laughed.

“Can we please change the subject,” you begged, earning laughter from the group. 

“100 hours, for 30 minutes. That’s uhm, impressive.” 5 stared at the timer.

“Yeah! Maybe from now on you guys could be our main time earners!” 1 joined in on the fun. 

“It would be my pleasure,” you humoured 1.

“Yeah I bet it would be,” 2 quipped back.

“Wait, did you guys fight? What’s with the bruises?” There’s no way 3’s that clueless, he’s definitely pulling your leg, casting the spotlight on the purplish spots on your necks. 

“Something like that,” Yu finally spoke up, sharing a smile with 3, who was clearly just teasing, evident by his little smile.

You just groaned awkwardly, holding the back of your neck in an attempt to conceal the evidence- futile attempt.

“Guys please…”

“Do you think the main content earner was 4 or 7?” 8 wiggled her shoulders.

“Hmmm, let me take 4 for a ride and we’ll see” 2 winked.

“I’m leaving.”

“By yourself?” you flipped her off as you walked to your room. She made a kissy noise in response.

Yu watched you leave with a dorky smile on his face, adjusting his glasses. 6 slapped a hand harshly onto his back. 

“Didn't know you had it in you.” he said proudly. 

7 chuckled awkwardly, pulling at his shirt collar in a sudden heat flash, accidentally revealing he too was not pure of marks. “Are we gonna play another game?”

“I think we earned enough time,” 3 replied.

None were surprised when you found Yu at your door that night, an eased expression on his face. He bore a small smile, shy and nervous, with his hair slightly disheveled.

You leaned against the door, “To what do I owe the pleasure?” you smiled and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Did I take it too far?”

“Not at all. I mean, it was definitely an experience, but not unwelcome. You’re not here for round two are you?” you teased, he shook his head.

“No I uh,” he pulled at the hem of his shirt and cleared his throat, “Actually just wanted to spend some time with you- if you don’t mind,”

He entered, by this time you had invested in a little mattress. You laid down first, opening your arms and he plopped down onto you, setting his glasses next to your bed. You carded through his hair gently, and he hummed.

His lips placed a soft kiss against your arm, eyes moving up to stare at you, “are you sure there’s nothing between you and 2?”

“Yeah, just banter. Is there something between you and 8?” he tsked.

“Never, that woman creeps me out,”

“You and every other human,”

“Minus 6.”

“He’s barely a person,”

He chuckled. With a few hours to midnight, he had to fight back sleep. He yawned, and sighed, and grumbled, but soon enough his words became less and less coherent, and his breathing evened out. 

. . .  

“I do not. You’re a liar,” he said as he bit into a croissant, then took a sip of his black coffee.

“You do!” you giggled, cutting into your sandwich and taking a bite. “It’s okay it’s cute,”

He nudged your shoulder, causing you to stumble a little, but he made sure it wasn’t enough for you to topple over.

You two, walking like college students, eating and talking like your jobs don’t counteract each other. The crisp autumn air left you both bundled in coats, the cold nipping at your nose. You sniffled.

“It’s not cute,” he took another bite, “Because it doesn’t happen. You’re a delusional woman,”

“Hey!” you scoffed, “You don’t have to believe me but it’s true!”

. . .  

Idiot. You giggled to yourself, using your sleeve to wipe a tiny bit of drool. He looked so peaceful from this angle, his head against your stomach and arms lazily around you. Your thumb gently eased the wrinkle between his brows, then traced his under eyes, then his lips. Somewhere far away, you think you’d probably take him back.

A sharp knock came at the door, you pushed him off gently.

As quietly as possible, you opened it and stepped outside.

“Oh. Hey guys,” you smiled at the group, 1, 2 and 3.

“Can we come in? We need to talk, privately,”

Your eyes widened momentarily, “Why don’t we talk in someone else's room?”

“We know he’s in there,” 2 laughed and you shot her a dirty look.

“He’s asleep!” you whispered back, but the door opened behind you. You almost fell back, but caught yourself. A very sleepy Yu stood behind you, adjusting his glasses.

He glanced at you, then at the ground, then sighed deeply, adjusting his glasses.

3 was shocked, “7! You’re here too? Did you figure it out?”

“Figure what out?” he rasped out.

“Are you feeling better 3?” You asked first.

He nodded with his lips tucked in, “I am. What were you and 7 doing then?”

“Discussing strategy,” Yu smoothed his hair over. They all entered, with him standing by the window as the other floors explained to him that the game was rigged- that someone was rigging it. 

“If we confront them with assumptions they’ll just deny it,” he sighed, leaning against the projection. “They’ll hide the evidence of them rigging it, and we’ll be at a loss of cards. They’re bound to slip up soon, we just have to wait for that moment,”

All around, people nodded, and you ushered people to leave in the most polite way possible. Seeing the time, Yu hung around a final moment to peck your cheek, wishing you a good night. You watched him walk out, leaning against the doorframe with a little smile as he ascended. Hidden just a few steps below, 2. Once he left she stepped into view, giving you a knowing look.

“Don’t make it weird all we did was talk,” you started, already so done.

“Earlier too? What conversation prompted a hundred hours. Talk about it more often,”

“Grow up!”

A new day, a fresh start. You all joined the circle for the next game. This time, 1 was king. Good job Yu. 

8 gave a short clap, “Your first time no?”

“Four and six,” 1 said, “I’ll flip a coin,”

“Who’s four and six?” 5 asked.

“Four, that’s me,” 7 stated. 

“And six?” 1 asked.

A soft noise of surprise came from 8, “Look at that. It’s me!”

5 stood to flip the coin.

“I’ll take heads,” 8 smiled.

“Then I’ll be tails,” 7 responded, hands clasped formally behind his back.

“I’ll flip it then,” 5 said, with a smile that felt far too fearful. 

“Wait,” 1 stepped forward. “Could you make sure you flip it on the back of your hand?”

She faltered, then nodded.

She flipped the little gold piece, and removed her shaking hand. 

“Tails,”

8 pouted, and an uncanny silence loomed over.

“Me?” she glanced over at the group. “This is lame,”

“Lame? You were very excited about the penalty before this,” 2 scowled.

“Yeah I guess I was. Now it’s lame though,”

“Nope, it’s not lame at all. This is so much fun I’m having the time of my life right now,” 3 proclaimed.

“Stick to your promises,” 2 continued.

8 pondered for a moment, then as if a ‘eureka!’ moment, she raised a finger and said a simple okay.

You all watched from the sidelines as she knelt before Yu, moving her hair out of the way, seemingly unphased. He however, very phased. His eyes held a look of disconcertment, 

“Okay, I’ll count to three, then tase…” he inhaled sharply. “..one..”

People were getting restless, anticipating the humiliation she’d face.

“...two..” why was he so nervous?

“...three,” just as the machine came to life and inched towards her, Yu was harshly kicked in the ribs. He groaned as he fell, clutching his side. His glasses had come off, and his unobscured wide eyes stared up at his assailant- 6.

“What are you doing!” you gasped, frozen in place.

“Why?” Yu’s quiet voice asked, his face wounded with blood escaping his lip and eyebrow.

“It’s lame to be predictable,” 6 responded coldly, grabbing the taser, and crouching next to the fallen man.

He glanced over to the cameras, “We needed a twist. Don’t you agree?” he stated, just before tasing his bare neck, eliciting a loud scream followed by loss of consciousness.

A/N: this chapter is also so FREAKY sorry guys I have a problem. + Had an exam so late upload sorry </3 :( Taglist: @entr4p3

[the-ate-show]

00:03 Epiphany Wc: 6.3k

“I assume they found it entertaining,” 7 spoke, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses, “First watching us struggle, then react differently to the rooms, then climb the stairs eagerly, then they got…”

“Bored,” 6 replied, smiling to himself, “They got bored.” Didn’t take a genius to finish 7’s thought, but go off I guess.

“But what exactly did they find entertaining?” 1 said, frowning at 7 who made a face.

6 continued, “A person passing out, another with a bloody nose, even I found it interesting,” you looked up from your shoes, staring at 2 who redirected your vision to 3. He didn’t meet your eye, choosing to stare at the ceiling. Your shoulders drop a little at the sight of his nose, you’d have to thank him later for sure.

“Is that how things are gonna go now? Trying to be entertaining?” 5 said with a furrow in between her brows.

“What did you eat 4?” 6 said in response.

“Why’re you asking?”

“I mean, that was a pretty easy way to earn time,” WHAT. He laughed, almost like he thought this was funny. He’s the biggest joke here, closely followed by the idiot in glasses. “I’m kidding,” he said, “Should’ve seen your faces,” he wheezed, joined by 8.

“Real funny,” you rolled your eyes.

“Oh cmon, I’d never, plus you deserve a little reward for doing us a favor,” he winked.

The quip died in your throat, “What do you-”

“You look a little grey 4, you should go and rest.” You were abruptly cut off by 7.

“No I’m f-” he was already grabbing your arm, pulling you to the stairs. You gave a quizzical look up at him, then back to the group. 2, most notably, gave you a slight smirk.

He closed the door, resting his head against it momentarily, then glancing around your room, eyes narrowing at the lack of belongings.

“It’s cosy,”

“You bought a table,”

“That’s a necessity,”

“Nerd,” you replied, pressing your back against the furthest wall from him, crossing your arms. He raised his hands in mock surrender, you couldn’t fight back the smile.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, walking up to lean on the wall next to you, eyes fixed on your side profile.

“I’m fine,”

“I’m serious, you could've…” he trailed off, adjusting his glasses and coughing. “Could’ve been in serious trouble.”

“Right… and you care because…?”

“You could've died,” he deadpanned, “You know, you’re really reckless,”

You pushed yourself off of the wall, turning to face him. “What happened to being strangers?”

“This is different,”

“Different..” you put your hands on your hips, then frowned. “Dear lord, for a moment i thought you cared,” you laughed, a bitter sarcastic sound. You walked towards the door, ignoring his facial expressions.

“What?”

“You would've gotten your money 7,” you turned the handle and pulled back, but the door slammed shut again, you turned to face him, his arm next to your head.

“Is this the only trick you know?” you tried to duck under his arm but he stopped you, clenching his jaw.

“I wasn’t even thinking about the money,” he said firmly, his eyes staring daggers into your soul. ”Really? I find that hard to believe,”

He started the next sentence by using your nickname, and you covered his mouth with your hands. The proximity made it hard to think straight. It was a few beats of silence, as the feeling of familiarity sunk in. Oh how desperately you crave to hear him say it. 

But alas, “You don’t get to do that,” your voice came out in a broken whisper, and you dropped your hand hesitantly. “You don’t get to pretend to like me when it benefits you. I’m not stupid, not anymore,” you took in a shaky breath at the end. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry over him again. 

“You were never stupid.” he watched you, ducking his head lower to be in your line of vision, then standing up again when he was sure you were looking. “Naive, too trusting, reckless, an idiot? Sure. But not stupid.”

“Stupid and idiot are the same thing,” you deadpanned.

“No they’re not. I believe your words were,” he dropped his arms from pinning you back, taking a few steps away, then putting a hand on his hips, blinking up at the ceiling, you let out a shocked giggle just at the scene, “Ahem ahem, ‘Stupid implies a lack of knowledge, an idiot is someone who’s lame, kind of dorky. You’re an idiot Yu.’”

Your eyebrows shot up, your lips pursing together. “You told me i was both an idiot and stupid for that sentence,”

He struggled against a smile, a losing battle. “And you refused to let me sleep in your bed that night,”

“Oh I was justified,” you gasped playfully, walking up to him.

“Justified? Your cat terrorised me all night! God I hated that thing.” he ran a hand through his hair.

“He’s not a thing!”

“Well he’s certainly not a cat.” he shivered, and you swatted his arm, bringing out a few genuine laughs from him.

“Foreskin is a lovely and respectable young man,”

“He’s a girlfriend thief,”

“C’mon. Don’t tell me you were jealous of a cat?!”

“How could I not be? The sucker didn’t like me, and made sure to be extra clingy when I was around.”

“Awh,” you giggled, and he looked borderline offended, crossing his arms over his chest.

“He was not cute,”

“He remains cute, but I wasn’t awwing at him,” he furrowed his eyebrows for a moment and then his eyes widened in understanding. 

There was a moment of pure quiet, where you sat in his fluster and your smile.

…”Your cat’s name is foreskin?” 

“Oh… yeah,”

“You named your cat… foreskin?!”

You snorted at his dropped jaw, “It suits him!”

“You told me his name was muffin!”

“You already hated him, didn’t want to give you more of a reason,” you rolled your eyes.

“Rightfully so?? If a cat is fitting to be called foreskin then I’m sure there’s a reason to dislike him. There is something so deeply wrong with you,”

You let out an annoyed huff of air, glaring up at him with your arms crossed. 

They say eyes are the window to the soul. That you could truly see someone through their irises. That much was true. There was something so intensely alluring about that man, it made you want to forget all the lessons his goodbye taught you. Your eyes followed him longingly, watching as he gave a slight nod and moved behind you to reach the door. You hesitated for a moment, but before your brain could reign your heart in, you spoke.

“Thank you,”

“Thank you?”

“For checking in on me.” and with that, he left.

. . .  

He awoke in shock, sputtering as the cool water doused his face.

“What the-” he groaned as his hangover hit him like a train, the throbbing ache pounding against his eyes.

“Muffin get down,” He reached for his glasses from your night stand, watching through squinted eyes as you scooped your cat into your arms, then placed him on the foot of the bed. 

The cat seemed to smirk at Yu. Smug little a-hole.

“You look nice, where are you going?” he said to you as he took in your form, and the mess in your room.

“Friend’s house.” he nodded slowly, grunting as the memories of yesterday flooded his head.

“I missed something didn’t I?” 

“Wow, look at you using context clues! Sleep in your own bed tonight,”

“C’mon don’t be like that,” he pushed himself off of your sheets, and followed you out of the room.

“Electrolytes,” you pointed to the kitchen island as you grabbed your shoes. He followed you like a lost puppy. “Eat something starchy. And take a shower,”

On that cue, he sniffed himself, and then nodded.

“I’ll be back by 8, don’t be here if you know what’s good for you,” you mumbled, leaving the house.

He stood staring at the door for a beat, shoulder dropped and face contorted in shame. He perked up when you opened the door again, but it was only to say,

“Don’t let the cat out,” and with that, you were gone. 

He turned to look at ‘muffin’, who was licking at his electrolyte drink. Stupid fat cat.

. . .  

Your anxiety about your allergic reaction had sizzled out by now, and the sheer exhaustion of the day’s events sent you into a snooze you hadn’t had for a while. 

Well rested and content with your dreams, you laid on the ground staring up at the ceiling with contemplation. On one hand, content is easy. That’s like.. Your job. But some of these other people weren’t made for that life. It would have to be a team effort. You nodded along to imaginary music by yourself. Maybe now would be the time to buy something. You strolled confidently to the machine, thinking about what you needed.

“A pillow…” you twirled the phone cord. “Aynnnddduuhhh… ermmm, OH. paint, black paint and a paintbrush. Make the paint the big industrial ones.”

You paid the hefty sum, threw the pillow onto the side, and used your bucket as a step stool to paint the wall opposite the chute. You must've been painting for a while, each brush stroke therapeutic. Before you could finish the background, two knocks cut your process off.

“One sec!” you hopped down, cleaning up your space a little and putting your jacket back on.

You drew the white door open, being met with 3 and 7.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” you kissed your teeth, giving 7 a bored expression, then a friendly smile to 3.

“I have to talk to you both, mind if we…?” he gestured to your room.

“I do,” he rolled his eyes and pushed past you, letting 3 in and then jumping slightly as he saw the mural.

No one spoke, well, 3 did.

“Woww!! You're an artist! This is incredible! You really captured the image of a naked mole rat!”

You erupted into giggles, and 7 gave a slight chuckle as well, to which 3 looked confused.

“Not a naked mole rat. My cat,”

“He’s… he’s naked.”

“Usually he’s in a sweater. He’s a sphinx cat so… hairless.” he made a whistle of approval.

“That’s cool,”

7 mumbled, “Not cool, freaky,”

“What was its name?” 3 asked.

“Mu-”

“Foreskin.” Genius, you just gave us away.

You all exchanged nods at that, 3 didn’t seem phased. 7 continued,

“Let’s not talk in here.”

You walked into the room that had the table and the 2 seats. They stood off to the side, and you sat on his table, playing with his clicking pen. Both men began to smoke, a nauseating scent. 7 offered you a cigarette, and you shook your head. He gave a questioning look and you went,

“I’m clean,” he nodded.

Both your gazes shifted to 3, and 7 spoke, “I like you 3.” He took a puff, “There’s something that sets you apart from the others. Like when you ran instead of 1. You don’t only think about yourself,” The man seemed bashful, trying to deflect.

“You seem to be more considerate, i mean, you didn’t send your waste down to 1.”

7 gave a slight chuckle, more like a huff of air, but it caught you both off guard. 3 felt the need to speak about it.

“This might be the first time i've seen you smile,”

He adjusted his glasses awkwardly, not commenting on the statement.

“I wanted to believe the stairs were the solution, but it never seemed to make sense.” 7 moved to sit at the table, 3 sitting on the other side. 

“I thought they’d pay us for hard work. Labour and all that. Or at least something along those lines. Guess I was wrong,” he casted a glance up at you from his position, clenching his jaw.

“But isn't this better?” 3 responded, “Content is way easier than climbing stairs,”

“What counts as content, or rather entertainment?”

“Humour. Funny things,”

“Funny,” he parroted. “Maybe for some time. But then what? When the jokes get overdone. They’ll want something actually worth watching. Right now the hosts aren’t interfering with the show at all, they’re leaving us to our blah blah blah,” you droned out of what he was saying, fixated on the mathematical diagrams on his wall. As they continued chatting, you got up, inspecting the hung up papers. There was a pause.

“Any ideas?” 7 asked you and you hummed. “You weren’t listening,”

You sighed, “Okay I wasn’t, sue me. Ideas for what?”

“Delaying violence. We’ll need some way to entertain a crowd.”

“I suggested a variety show,” 3 offered, you hummed.

“Maybe like a dating show,” you replied.

7 scoffed, “How would we set that up?” you sauntered over, resting your palms on the table.

“Don’t know. 6 and 8…” you trailed off then giggled. They looked at eachother, then at you. “Nevermind, dating show’s a bad idea. I’ll think of something, don’t worry.”

The next day, you all sat around the edge of the false pool, exchanging ideas.

“Wrestling,” 8 suggested sweetly.

3 responded, “Wrestling is good. Very entertaining. But don’t you think it’s a bit dangerous?”

“Someone could get hurt,” 5 said, casting you a subtle look. Okay girl.

“Maybe a variety show, like skits and stuff,” Good, 7 said control the discussion.

“I don’t do skits,” 2 said abruptly.

7 gave you a cue to speak, which was to sniffle. You chimed in, “How about a talent show?”

“How would we entertain them? We’re non-showbiz people,” speak for yourself, 6.

“Actually it’s not a terrible idea,” 7 said, looking around and nodding, “Something easy to set up,”

“How about someone test it out? Make sure we actually get time,” 1 said, rubbing his knees.

“Right, does anyone have any talents they can perform right now?” 

Literally crickets, aside from mumbled words from 6.

“Since no one else is volunteering, I’ll start us off.”

He walked towards the middle of the group then glanced at the time, then back to the group again. “Can I buy a recorder?”

. . .  

“You were totally wasted last night,” you spoke to Yu on the phone while commuting home. He insisted on calling you the whole way home, making sure you got back safely. “Your whole apartment must reek of alcohol,”

“Still don’t know why you didn’t just stay the night. Did I say anything stupid?”

“No. But you held a recorder up to your nose..?”

“... weird,”

“I asked you what you were doing and you told me you could play it with your nose. You promised to show me when you were sober,”

“Remind me never to drink around you again. ETA?”

“Seven minutes. Don’t tell me it’s true,”

“No further comment. Walk faster so I can hang up,”

“Wow. I'm wounded.”

“You’ll live,”

. . .  

You all sat around the stage area, and he stuffed a tissue up his nose, turning to face the group. 3 gave you a look, clearly confused at your giddiness. You shrugged, unable to fight back the little grin.

Yu gave a little sniffle, god this must be nerve wracking, and then he bit the bullet. He began to play, and looks of pure wonder passed over everyone’s faces. You yourself couldn’t stop your jaw from falling. He played for a while too, incredible breath control. He started really getting into it, moving his body almost to brace himself. Then he finished, and everyone got up to applause. 

8 spoke, “I think i just had an eargasm,”

Since when was she funny?

“Hey look, time increased!” 2 gestured up. “20 hours, that’s almost a whole day!”

“You’re awesome 7!” 5 said.

You giggled at the remembrance of what just transpired, and 3 gave you a pretty harsh shove.

“That’s mean!” he whisper yelled and you made a show of covering your mouth. 

Yu shot you a glare, but his embarrassment was evident.

6 spoke too, “What were you part of a circus?”

“It’s a humble hobby of mine,”

“We should go prepare what we are gonna do for the talent show,” 5 said with an excited clap, and everyone started to disperse.

“In a moment, I’d just like to ask an important question first, When do you want to end this show?” 7 spoke.

“Why’re you thinking about that now? Isn’t it a bit early?” 5 asked with an awkward smile.

“We should stay until 1 has enough. 1st, how much do you need?” 2 asked.

“A billion won,

After some quick mental math, that equated to about two months and a little bit. And so that was settled, easy enough.

You watched from behind 2 as 6 cut in line, arms crossed over your chest. He asked for 10 roof tiles to break. 2 matched his offer, ten roof tiles and four wooden boards. You walked up to 7, eyes lingering on the tension between 2 and 6. 

“Watercolors, a paintbrush, and a canvas,” you paused for a moment, “That was impressive,” he rolled his eyes in response. “I mean it,” you whispered, then walked off.

When time came for the talent show, you all sat around the pool again. 

“I can uh, paint. So here’s a blank canvas you guys perform and I’ll be painting meanwhile,” good, that got you some time. You sat off to the side, beginning your work.

5 went first, she sang a beautiful tune, earning her ten hours. 6 went up next, breaking through the tiles in a display of masculinity and testosterone. Fifteen hours. 2 next, who held up one tile which he missed. She showed him up, with 10 tiles and 2 wooden boards. Seventeen hours, touche. So far, your painting’s been coming along nicely. It was everyone here, from a smiley 8, to a brooding 3, a straight-faced 7, you were putting in the work for this. 3 decided to go next, doing some form of dance to no music. Weirdly, it impressed you. Maybe not the talent it took (or rather lack thereof) but by the sheer confidence this man possessed to do… well… that. Eighteen minutes. He took a spot next to you, glancing at the painting and then shoving his head into his hands. 1 went next, surprisingly pulling out a little red nose and performing some cool miming/clown things. He was a natural, you’d never seen a performer somehow entrance a whole room, even 6 seemed dazzled. By this time, you were almost done. You stood up, adding the final touches onto the canvas and suddenly feeling insecure. 

. . .  

“Mine isn’t great. Promise you won't get offended,” Yu says.

“I’ll kill myself,”

“You’re really mean. This is bullying, you’re picking on me,”

“My god all you do is complain, have some optimism,”

“Define optimism for me,”

“YOU MEANIE I KNOW WHAT OPTIMISM MEANS,”

“Calm down, I was teasing.”

“Oh shush. I’m done, ready?”

“As I have been for like twenty minutes,” you both flipped your canvases around to show your portraits of each other.

. . . 

You added a few final touches, and then glanced at the camera, then back at the canvas. Is it too late to switch talents? Perhaps you could also do a little dance. You looked between their eyes under the guise of adding the last few bits, and caught Yu’s eyes. Sincerity. He stared at you with sincerity. He believed it was good before even seeing it. He believed in you. Not that it mattered what he thought, getting no time would hurt your feelings.

Here goes nothing.

You flipped the canvas around slowly, and watched as awe filled their faces. Oh thank god.

The watercolor illustration showed a simply rendered image of each of them as they performed their talent, or sitting around.  2 was the first to get up, coming closer to inspect the drawing of her. 3 came next, then 8, followed by 5 and 6. You bowed your head in thanks repeatedly as they continued to compliment it. 7 came closer as well, glancing at the painting and smiling, a small, almost missable smile. You smiled too. 

Weirdly enough, 6 was the one to hold it up to the cameras, letting the viewers see it. 2 gave you a shoulder pat as the time jumped up by twenty hours. You breathed a sigh of relief.

6 set it off to the side, and you sat down next to 2. 

“Alright,” 7 said, glancing at the woman who laid on the beach chair beside him. “8th floor,”

“I don’t have to do it out here do I?” she said in a soft voice.

7 furrowed his brows momentarily, then back to his poker face. “Not necessarily,”

“If I don’t have to do it here, I want to do it in my room,” She stopped a few centimeters short of Yu, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “Do you want to sleep with me?” 

3 covered his mouth with a slap, 5 seemed mortified, 6 perked up and 2 clenched her jaw.

7 adjusted his glasses with the back of his hands, “What do you mean?,” he said. The poor guy.

“You heard me. Sex,” she looked at him expectantly, this woman has never been told no before.

“8th floor this is a talent show,” she let out a little scoff.

“Talent shows are where we show off what we’re good at, no? I’m amazing at it,” she parted her lips, poking her tongue in her cheek, a crude gesture with her hands pairing with the uncomfortable display. Yu looked unimpressed, looking towards the group, then glanced down at his notebook. Then, momentarily, up to you.

“I decline,” THANK GOD.

She gave a surprise hum, “Why?” her smile was unwavering.

She got very close into his personal space, something you knew Yu took very seriously. You were convinced he served in the military, the way he stood.

8 walked slowly between the group, stopping to very creepily touch the girls and linger at the uncomfortable men, particularly 3. She stopped at 6, and his hand wandered into his trousers, giving a OH. you looked away, and they got up together to go to her room. You couldn’t shake the warmth that spread on your skin.

The group all sat quietly, no one exactly knowing what to do. 5 especially seemed flustered.

“Good job everyone,” she tried to break the ice.

“You’re a great singer,” you replied, leaning back on your forearms, and she blushed, thanking you.

“Were you some kind of artist before this?” 3 asked you and you shook your head.

“Just a humble hobby of mine,” he laughed at your mimicking of 7, then continued.

“It’s just that you’re so good, and upstairs your painting of… foreskin,”

5 sputtered, eyes widening and you gasped, “NO my cat’s name is foreskin!”

“Why would you name your cat FORESKIN?” 2 added.

“HE LOOKS LIKE IT,”

“And you’re the foreskin expert?”

“Can we change the subject?” 1 interjected, and you both nodded, eyes cast down. You could swear 7 was smirking at the ground.

“Wonder how impressive she actually is,” you commented after a pause, staring up at the closed door.

“You could’ve volunteered,” 2 teased and you stuck your tongue out at her.

3 added, “How would it increase though?”

“What do you mean?” 7 replied. “They’re doing something interesting to watch,”

“I mean, when 2 and 4…”

“2 and 4?” 2 parroted.

“Yeah when 7 and I walked in…”

“We weren’t doing anything!” You groaned and 2 laughed out loud.

“Only because they didn’t give us the chance to,” she said sarcastically, but 3 missed it and apologized.

“NO. Because we weren’t gonna 3! We were just messing around!”

“With each other,”

“2.” She shrugged smugly and you swatted her arm.

A few hours of small talk and lame attempts at knock knock jokes later, the timer buzzed to life, increasing by sixty-nine hours.

“Guess she really was good,” 5 said, her hand clasped together in front of her chest, “But why sixty-nine of all numbers?” saying it out loud seemed to drive it home though, and she dropped her head slowly. People retired to their rooms shortly after, and you caught up to 3. Knocking on his door just as he closed it.

He opened it again, a deep frown on his face, “Yeah?”

“You look defeated,”

“I am. I lost. By a lot too,”

“Mind if I come in?” he smiled softly, and you entered his room.

“Who’s the cardboard guy?”

“Scammed me out of money. He’s the sleaze who put me in debt.”

“Tough luck 3,” you sat down in a corner with your knees to your chest, and gestured for him to sit next to you.

He joined quickly, looking like he might cry, sitting criss cross.

“C’mon, don’t let it get to you,” you patted his knee. “You’ve done countless other impressive things since you’ve got here!”

“Like…?”

“You fought 6 for me, for the meds,” he just shook his head.

“One act of kindness won’t offput the crap show that just happened.”

“Maybe not. But I’ll always know of your honor.” you smiled, “If that’s worth anything,” You wiped the dried blood off of his nose. 

He smiled shyly, dropping his head against the wall behind him.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot,”

“What’s… a foreskin?”

You emerged from his room one awkward conversation later, and made your way up the stairs. You leaned over the half wall in front of your room, gazing at the empty room for a moment. Well, almost empty, 7 was outside smoking. As he often is.

You coughed, and he glanced up at you.

“Doing okay buddy?” you asked and he shot you an inquisitive look, “Weren’t considering her offer were you,” you whispered the last bit, but the immediate fluster was evident in his body language. He gritted his teeth and looked back down, you giggled.

“Good night 7,”

No response, but you’d already turned over for the night.

The following morning, you all went towards the com. 7 sat at the stairs in the center, 3 took a spot on the edge of the same steps, and you and 5 on the other end. 8 laid on 6, who lounged by the edge of the pool, 1 a little distance away. 2 leaned on a wall close to you coolly.

“Not counting the time consumed,” 7 spoke. “We earned a total of 120 hours. Good job everyone,”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit unfair. I mean, some of them flopped,” 6 smirked at 3, who turned to look away.

“Still, everyone participated,” 5 said sweetly, “So it was fair,”

A passive voice sounded from the other edge of the pool, “Um excuse me,” people turned to look at 1. “Now that we know how to earn time… what about the waste bags and trash?”

“Oh my god your right, we’ve still been sending them to you,” 5 gasped.

“You’re right 1, it slipped our minds,” 2 added.

“No, I volunteered, it’s just with the size of my room it’s getting quite unbearable,”

“I think we should all just keep our own waste,” you added your own two cents. “So it doesn't pile up,”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” 8 pouted.

“So what? We can use your room then, it’s the biggest anyway.” 2.

“You can’t send it up, chute only goes down,”

“How about a vote for a new bathroom?” 6.

“That’s just an excuse to pick on someone,” 2.

“It’s democratic, whoever is best at keeping poop.”

“And who’s best? You?”

“Watch it,”

“What?”

“A vote it is, if majority agrees,” 7 stated, and with that it became a vote.

The rest of your day was spent idly. 2’s opinion was the only thing you really cared about, well her and 1. She told you to vote for 8.

That night, you found yourself sat on the seesaw, picking at the skin on your fingers nervously. This is about to be the start of enemy territory. Voting. 2 was right, this was glorified bullying. A sudden weight countered yours, which almost made you lose your balance as the thing lifted momentarily and you scrambled to hold the edge tightly. You looked at the perpetrator. Yu, who held a cigarette lazily in his hand. The deep blue of the room casted a strange sort of lighting on his face.

“Sorry,” he stifled a laugh, eyes fixated on his shoes. 

“Sure you are,” you sighed, stabilizing yourself on your end.

He took a deep breath in, head rolled back and eyes closed as grey smoke flooded his lungs. 

“Cool painting,” he hummed.

“Cool recorder trick,”

“You drew us on opposite sides,”

“I did,”

“I wasn’t stood that far away,”

“You weren’t,”

“You’re not gonna elaborate?”

You let out a soft giggle, “Context clues 7, context clues,”

He tsked, shaking his head and then adjusting his glasses.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have asked you to be civil,” he teased.

You promptly got up, and the lack of evenness caused the thing to crash down on his end, him rolling off. He landed flat on his back, and you walked up to him, looking satisfied.

“What was the point of that,” he groaned, stretching his back.

“You act like you’re so much better than me,”

“I’m not,”

“You act like it,”

“I don’t,”

“You’re really stubborn. You know that?”

You extended a hand to help him up, and he adjusted his glasses, then took your hand.

Instead of pulling him up, he brought you tumbling down on top of him. You let out a flurry of shocked giggles, propping yourself up with a hand on either side of his head. One of his hands was on your elbow.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“You started it,”

“No, you told me I wasn’t being civil!”

“Hmm, Are you sure you didn’t make that up?”

“You’re so mean to me,” you said despite not believing what you were saying, not in the moment anyway.

His lips quirked into a small smile, and his hand came up your cheek, hesitantly. You leaned into his touch before realizing what you were doing. 

“It’s been a while since we’ve been this close huh,”

“Mhm,” you mumbled back, biting your lip and looking anywhere but his face.

“It’s familiar,”

“Don’t play nice now,”

“I’m sorry,”

That caught you off guard, and whatever you were gonna say died in your throat.

“But it’s not my place to apologize right? Already long gone?” his digits traced your jaw gently, his eyes following the heat their path left. His voice took a familiar rasp, one you’d come to know all too well in early mornings.

“I don’t know,” you replied honestly.

“You don’t want me to die?”

“Not all the time,” you laughed dryly.

“But most of it,”

“Most of it,”

“If it’s not my place to apologize, then it’s definitely not my place to say I missed you,”

“It’s not. You’d have some nerve to tell me that.” 

“And if I did have the nerve, hypothetically, what would you say?”

“I’d say something stupid like, ‘I missed you too’”

A genuine smile spread on Yu’s face, “Good, because otherwise my hypothetical pride would’ve been wounded,”

“It would’ve?”

“It would’ve,”

“Wow, my hypothetical opinion of you means alot huh,”

“More than you know,” you stared down at him, your eyes fixated on each other's. In a moment of clarity, you cleared your throat, then sat up, with the intention to get off of him.

He scrunched his nose slightly, and before you could get up, he reversed the roles, pushing you down so he’d be on top.

Your eyes widened, only inches away from his. You glanced behind him, the time increased by half an hour.

So that’s why 8 gained so much time.

Your eyes met him again, his gaze was a little lower though. His pupils jumped right back up to yours, as if he was embarrassed he even went there. He swallowed thickly.

“I missed you. And not hypothetically,” He says quietly. Your hand reached up to his jaw, your thumb tracing his lips gently. “I missed you too,” you pouted.

He lifted his head, glancing at the time and doing a double take. “I hope they won’t ask,”

“They’re too occupied with the bathroom situation anyways, may I?” You gestured to his cigarette and he passed it to you. You took a long inhale.

“Thought you’d quit,”

“Birthday calories don’t count,” you exhaled it, bringing it up to your lips again. He watched you with half lidded eyes.

“Who’re you gonna vote for?” You asked, already regretting the smoke.

“Who are you gonna vote for”?

“I asked you first,”

“What if I told you I’d vote for whoever you're voting for?”

“Well then you’d be a liar, you’re not voting for 8 are you?”

“Are you?”

“I think so,” 

A long pause, and as you came to exhale the next round of vapor, he brought his face closer, inhaling the smoke that you released. Your eyes fluttered shut, and just about halfway through your breath, his lips slotted against yours. It was momentary, and he pulled back almost immediately, huffing the tainted air back in your face.

This shouldn’t be that hot. 

“What the cigarette alone wasn’t enough?” You teased to mask your fluster, futile attempt.

“Tastes better this way,”

“You addict. You still didn’t answer my question?”

Yu paused for a while, staring down at you and then he nodded, “I’m voting 3,”

What? “For 3?”

He sighed deeply, taking a hit. His eyes glanced up at the floors, “If 8 loses…” you pushed him off of you harshly.

“And if 8 loses?” you sat up, crossing your arms. He shushed you and you scoffed.

“She controls our food. And she has her bodyguard,”

“So if the little princess loses you think she’ll throw a tantrum?”

“I think you’re the one throwing a tantrum right now,” you gasped, and his eyes widened. 

“Are you ever able to go through discussion without insulting the person you’re talking to?”

A silence of processing passed, and he watched as pure rage overtook you. You got up to storm off, but he followed  after you, up several flights of stairs. Between his apologies, his explanations and his attempts at reconciliation, you made out maybe two words, covering your ears with your hands. One thing, and one thing only was constant. 

This man is a traitor.

You fumbled with your keycard, repeating “Stop, stop, stop just leave me alone!”

You finally opened your door, moving in and turning to slam it, but he had stopped it with his shoe.

“Please just leave,” you whispered.

“Vote for 3,” you made a noise midway between a scoff. “Please,”

“Get lost 7,” and he did, defeatedly going back to his room.

What was wrong with him? Vote for your own friend? He must be crazy. Maybe all those cigarettes had another effect, brain damage or something.

You slid down the door, lips quivering. You rubbed your eyes harshly, a choked out sob escaping without your consent. There it is again, that feeling of smallness. The feeling that crept through your veins and seeped through your cells, that threatened everything you thought you were and weren’t. And somehow, a feeling he always knew how to bubble up.

The next morning, you all lined up by room number in front of the playset to cast your votes. In a nutshell, you’d climb up, write your vote and show it to the camera, then slide down the slide and put it into a box that 7 held. Easy enough. Turn by turn, they all went. When it was yours, you glanced down, then back at the group. 8. You confidently wrote 8 down, beamed up at the camera, folded it and slid down. You didn’t meet his gaze when you slipped it into the box.

After everyone was down, you all gathered around and they began to read it outloud.

One for 3. Another for 3. One for 8. 8 again. 8. 

She giggled. 3. 

“A tie,” 7 so generously stated.

Blank.

You gave 3 a comforting pat on the back from where you both sat, he had his hands together in front of his face. 7 gave that look. The look of dread. The same way he’d stare at your cat as it made its way to the bathroom before him.

“8th floor,” you and 3 got up to celebrate, then calmed down at the sound of 8’s voice.

“Me?” she smiled in an amused fashion, 6 scrambling up to check the vote box. “Is it really me?”

7 spoke, “8th floor, your room has been picked as the bathroom,”

She giggled, “Woww! I’ve never won anything like this. Shouldn’t I get an applause?”

You all begin to clap, and 1st commented on the increase by 24 hours that the voting entailed.

You, 3, 7 and 5 stood in a group, where 3 mostly exclaimed how happy he was, and 5 replied by saying she's thankful that 8 seemed unphased. 3 pulled 7 aside shortly after, and you couldn't make out what they were saying.

You spent most of your day otherwise alone, 1 and 2 went to chat, 3 and 7 went for a smoke, and 5 was in her own bubble. Eventually though, you watched a pretty interesting scene.

“No,”

“What?” 5 replied.

“No,”

“Excuse me, 8 floor, you got the most votes,” you, 7, and 3 came closer, and 5 continued.

“Correct,”

“And so from 8am to midnight we could use it as a restroom. I’m not scolding you but…”

“There’s no misunderstanding, that's what we agreed on. But im saying no,”

They continued to try to persuade her, she said something classist, and you couldn’t help but realise you made a grave mistake.

Sure enough, back at your room, that night, the meal boxes arrived. Except when you slide open the chute, the empty boxes all but laughed up at your dreary face.

This was the start of warfare.

AN: this chapter is so

FREAKY

Taglist:

@entr4p3

[awoogayanderes]

CHAPTER THREE : FIRST IMPRESSIONS

➪ sypnosis : after your first night, you meet new people who will be apart of your daily life living here

➪ other notes : kinda a filler chapter, was supposed to be WAY longer but i don’t want to rush this too much BUT HEY 7TH FLOOR APPEARANCE !!! also, i tried to give almost everyone a nickname somehow, non edited sorryyy

➪ prologue | chapter one | chapter two | chapter three

you couldn’t believe your eyes. maybe you were still dreaming ? no, you weren’t that tired. there’s just pure silence in the air aside from the small faint click of the scoreboard as each minute passes by. 12:10 a.m. for the past few minutes, you’ve been counting to 60 repeatedly. the scoreboard was at 1,300,000. there was no way this was real. you eventually stood up, starting to pace your room.

wouldn’t right now be a good idea to buy a few things ? you turn to the phone, about to pick it up before you stop your hand mid air. wait, what if they’re baiting you ? what if you’re not meant to buy anything ? what if it was one of those game shows that say “you win this certain amount of money but the catch is, don’t buy anything until the time is over !” you wouldn’t be surprised, it’s actually a good idea.

you can’t help but smile at yourself, they really thought they could fool you. reaching your hand out again, you pick up the phone and speak into it. “you won’t trick me, i won’t fall for this,” you whisper. feeling accomplished, you hang up the phone before laying back down against the wall. you can sleep without anything, you’d done it before, you’ll do it again. within minutes, you fall asleep again.

when you wake up, you don’t know what time it is but by now, the screen in the back of your room is already showing the bright daylight. you look back at your scoreboard. 67, 470, 000. you rub your eyes before looking at it again, so you weren’t dreaming the huge numbers. you suck in a breath before letting out a breathy laugh. that’s all it seriously took ? a few hours and you’d be rich ?

minutes of silence pass until you hear a voice. “excuse me ! is everyone in their rooms ? can everyone come out here so we can introduce ourselves ?” it was a feminine voice coming from outside. hesitantly, you walked towards your door, opening it. it was bright, almost like the sun was beaming into the inside. as you looked over the ledge, you saw around three people already in the common area.

a few floors down was a young man looking over the ledge. you walked down the stairs, hearing the same woman call out again. “are we all accounted for ? don’t be shy, people, come on out.” the four people you’ve already seen are wearing the same attire that was given to you, it almost looks like a formal event. once you get to the first floor, an older woman greets you. “hello ! hello !”

you observe her, she’d be the type to own expensive pearls yet be humble. you offer her a small smile, “good morning.” your head turns to the other three people. there’s another woman, but younger. she’d be the type to be a white knight manipulator, she looked just a bit too fake, like cracked porcelain. you both give each other a small bow and smile before you turn to another person, this time a man.

he looks like he’d be in a k-pop group, but at the same time he looks a bit too old for that. he offers you a small wave and a stiff smile and you nod your head. finally, you turn your head to the last person you see. it’s another man, he’s wearing glasses and has his arms crossed. how could you describe him ? smart ? clever ? no, cunning. both of you connect your eyes, he looks at you before turning elsewhere.

“wait, how are you walking on the water ?” the k-pop guy asks the white knight. “it’s fake. this is all fake. you see ? look up there, that’s our sunlight,” had the k pop guy not realized it wasn’t a real pool ? “have you seen the scoreboard yet ? come on, let's go see.” ms pearls says to both you and the k pop guy. “look at the time,” it was at 35 hours, you hum, the people running this gave all of you more time.

hearing a small thump behind you, you turn, seeing a new man, ms pearls is politely saying good morning but there’s no response from the man. he seems like such a bright ray of sunshine. his children probably hate him, if he had any and his wife probably divorced him, if he had one. whilst judging, the white knight speaks up. “will they keep adding hours every day that we're in here ?”

“if they keep tacking on more and more hours, well, we might just find ourselves trapped in here forever,” behind all of you was a woman, wearing the same attire…except that she was only wearing a bra. “uh…why are you dressed like…” k-pop guy says as the girl spins on the roundabout. she was shameless ? well it seemed like her head was just empty. like if her brain was floating in the clouds. hm, floatie.

“there’s a limit to everything, especially time. they haven't given us too many rules yet. the time must mean something. i’m sure there are still many rules we don't know.” glasses says, he did have a point. “so, do you think this is everyone now ?” ms pearls says, you look around, there’s only seven of you, there should be nine. “hey, you.” the ray of sunshine yells out, you look at where he’s looking at.

at the top of the slide, there’s another woman, was she there the whole time ? she comes down to the rest of you, she looked annoyed, maybe she was cautious, that’s always a good trait you have. “i suppose she must be a bit on the shy side, right ? Don't you think ?” ms pearls says. “she could be shy, or just kinda rude...” white knight whispers. if you’re gonna whisper it why not say it out loud ?

you wonder if the new woman…blondie, heard it but chose to ignore it. you all begin to introduce yourselves, well ms pearls introduces everyone by their room number. “so, who’s on first ?” she asks. you look around, she was right you saw two - nine but the person in first floor hadn’t appeared. “good morning !” you hear a cheery voice behind you. that’s when you notice why he was slow.

“looks like I'm the last one here. sorry, i tend to be on the slow side.” he had a limp, there was no reason to apologize. you offer a small smile but 3rd floor k-pop guy offered the older man a hand. he almost reminded you of your father before everything happened. almost. somehow you don’t know how you should refer to him in your head, everything that popped up just seemed too rude.

she had a point, it’s better to have no strings attached even though most of you are here for the same problems. for the time remaining, however long it will actually be, you’d be known as 6th floor, you knew it’d take a while for you to be accustomed to it. you wonder how important these people will be when it comes to your day to day life, maybe this is the only you’ll be together, who knows ?

taglist : @thepinktiredfreak ( IM SO SORRY I JUST REALIZED I HADNT TAGGED YOU )

[the-ate-show]

00:08 Fortuity Wc: 2.4k SHORT CHAPTER WARNING

You gasped, coming face to face with 6, who flung 2 across the space. You couldn’t pay attention to what was really going on, all you know is you were tackled by someone, who promptly began to go at your face with their fists. It was 5 likely, considering 6 went to free 8, but it was hard to see with the tears obstructing your vision. You wondered if you’d lost a few teeth, or maybe your skull shattered or something. 

You awoke to your arms being tightened behind your back, a throbbing headache pushing at the front of your skull. You groaned, blinking the stars out of your vision, to find yourself face to face with 6. You gasped a bit.

“Morning princess. Didn’t hit you too hard did I? We’ve been waiting for you for a while,” 6 teased, pressing the revolver he possessed into your skull. You growled at him. “One of you took things too far,” he stepped back. “I’m down 8 toenails. So tell me, which one of you did this?” He sat back on the spinning thing. “I really underestimated you guys. My bad.”

He got up, pointing his bat at 3. “Did you do this?”

“No. I’d never do that. I swear, okay?”

“And you?” he pressed the wooden thing into 1’s face.

“It’s not me. I swear! I mean it.”

“You?” he tilted your jaw up.

“No, it’s not me,” you stuttered.

“You?” he asked 7, who shook his head promptly.

“That leaves… you.” he said to 2. “It checks out, given your feelings for me. I’m a rational guy. I get it. ”

He sat back on the ground and chuckled, “I get it, the need for revenge. But one of you just took things too far. I mean- this isn’t revenge this is just torture.” he laughed maniacally. “I’m speechless guys, really I am,”

He reached back, grabbing a revolver, “When I was tied up, not only was I thinking about busting the attacker, but also about an interesting way to do it. A little game, russian roulette, you know it right? There’s one bullet in here, you’re odds are one in five,” he got up, pointing it at 2’s head. “I won’t shoot your head, no, I’ll aim it at your leg, it’ll be way worse,” he chuckled. “Now, shall we begin?”

He crouched in front of 2, who gasped for air, shaking at the prospect.

“Who did it?”

“I don’t know!”

He did a slow little countdown, which she repeated that she didn’t know, and then he pulled the trigger. She screamed, but the gun clicked, and nothing was shot. 

“Lucky girl. Today is your day. But still, I think you deserve a little beating,” he grabbed the bat and began to hit her. She grunted and yelped, but generally got off easy compared to what could've happened.

“Now,” 6 pushed his hair back, panting. “Our dear mr. limousine liberal, you know the culprit?”

“No. I don’t know who it is,” he shot back immediately, breaths shallow and quick.

“So you have no idea? Okay. Here we go,” he aimed the gun at his inner thigh, pressing it into him tightly. Yu shook aggressively, 6 continued to taunt. “Ready? It’ll sting a little,” he reacted to your terrified look with a little grin. “Keep her watching,” he told 5, who obediently came to keep your head in place. 

“You’re supposed to reset the gun,” you spoke between pants of air. “Reroll th-” he shot before you could finish.

The shot echoed in the otherwise quiet arena. Your screams mixed with that of the others. Yu collapsed, blood draining out of him like a faucet. He convulsed, groaning and screaming and sobbing. 5 was quickly by his side, wrapping his leg to prevent further blood loss. Silent tears flowed down your face as 6 reloaded the gun, spinning it and crouching in front of you.

Yu screamed especially loud as 5 tied him up, and you let out a choked sob, wanting desperately to help. You kept your gaze fixated on his weak form. He was so desperate for just some kind of relief.

“Don’t worry about him,” 6 moved your jaw to face him with the gun. You cried harder at its sight, and the man smirked like a villain, wiping your tears with the metal. “You’ll be fine, one in five chances right? Tell me, who’s the culprit,” he trailed the gun down your arm, down your thigh and tapped the area just above your knee. You whimpered slightly.

“I don’t know,” you said between sniffles. “I don’t know!” 

He mocked you, putting on a pout, “You don’t know? Could’ve saved your boyfriend a whole lot of trouble. You and I haven’t always gotten along,”

“But I wouldn’t hurt you,” you said through gritted teeth.

“I would,” he said with a sleazy smile. “You wanna count her down?” he looked back at Yu, who had his face tightly against the ground, still whining. 

“He’s gonna die,” you said shakily. 

“We won’t let that happen,” 6 responded. “I’ll count instead. One…” you found yourself shaking too, your body betraying you. “Two…” his finger twitched on the trigger, when suddenly 3 yelled out.

“WAIT!”

You all paused to look. 

“I know who it is! No. I mean, I know how to find out,”

“How’s that?”

“A witness. There’s a witness!”

“A witness?”

“The cameras! I’m sure you can buy the footage or something,”

8 got up excitedly, to see the cameras. You droned out after that, they left 5 to look after you guys though. Yu finally looked at you, and your lips trembled at the sight. 

“7 are you okay?” 1 spoke, and was answered by a loud scream coming from him. 

“Fift-five,” you stuttered, “You need to help him now! The tourniquet isn’t enough, YOU’RE GONNA KILL HIM!” you sobbed out, body wracked with tears. 

5 looked between you and the intercom, “If I leave they’ll hurt me,” she whispered to you, “As soon as they’re back-”

“That’s not enough! PLEASE,” she continued to ignore you, looking nervously at the rooms.

“Who was it?” 2 spoke, still out of breath. “We’ll find out soon enough,”

“1… It was you wasn’t it,” 7 said, exhaustion evident in his voice.

1 sputtered, held back tears and squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Thinking about what he did to me,” he began to cry, “I was so furious, upset and…”

“You wanted more money,” 2 sighed.

“Is that so wrong of me? They used us. Don’t we have a right to do the same? Why do only we suffer?” 

You tried to ignore the hatred that suddenly burned inside of you for 1, logically, this isn’t his fault, but your ex boyfriend is bleeding to death from a bullet that had 1’s name on it. 

6 descended down the stairs with renewed vigor, ready to end 1’s entire life. Before he even made it halfway down the stairs, 8 tased him, causing him to fall, and a loud snap was heard.

“He’s paralysed,” 8 said as she walked down. “5 can you go tie him up?”

5 gasped, but nodded, running to try to help the man.

8 came up, giving a speech about how happy she is in front of the cameras, and the timer. Then, you were all escorted to your rooms. Before they could stuff you in yours, you begged for just a moment with 7. She declined, and she held a weapon to you as 5 tied you up.

The door shut, and the room was engulfed in an eerie darkness. The tears flowed freely from your eyes, down to your pillow. The dampness just added to the tragedy really. The frigid air was so cold it made you curl in on yourself, shaking with new round of cries. This was the worst, ever. Everything had gone so far south, and it made you think for a moment, what could’ve possibly prompted him to join the game? He was a rich kid, he came from luxury and trust funds and no college debt. He lived a fulfilling life, and from your information never gambled or took out illegal loans. Why was he here? If he was struggling, why hadn’t he reached out?

The door creaked open again, and you found 5.

“Um… 4… 8 said you could see 7,” you perked up, and she helped you to your feet to walk up there. At the door, she untied your hands, and told you that she’ll be back to fetch you when 8 feels like it. As soon as she gave you the greenlight, you entered. He was laying on the ground, near one of the corners, mountains of medical equipment around him covered in blood. His lips were trembling, eyes unfocused, staring into the floor.

“Philip,” you spoke softly, closing the door behind you. His frantic eyes found yours, and there was a visible relax in his shoulders. “How’re you feeling?” You treaded lightly, stepping over blood seeped tissues and discarded metal tools. 

“Cold,” he sniffled, driving a shaking hand through his hair. 

“Yeah,” you responded, going to grab his blanket. Of course he was cold, he lost a lot of blood. 

You draped the material over his shoulders, trying to bundle it in a way it wouldn’t irritate the wound. His pants hung over his desk, allowing you full viewing of the bandages. You hope 5 did a good job.

A soft thump came of his head against the wall. It seemed he was still in shock, his eyes blinking between places, unable to find solace.

“Still hurts,” he finally croaked out, a small sob causing him to twitch slightly. He finally met your eyes directly, and you cupped his jaw gently, wiping his tears with the pads of your thumbs.

You kissed his cheek softly, and he rested his forehead against yours. You joined him, sitting in the corner. He laid his head against your shoulder, letting his face sink into the material of your top. 

You held one of his hands in yours, trying to soothe his tremor. Ice cold, they felt fragile. Carefully, you threaded your hands through his sweat infused hair, pushing the strands back from his face.

“C’mon,” you whispered softly, tears running down your face. “Don’t die on me 7,” 

He let out something that could almost be considered a laugh, lifting his head to face you.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, even quieter. 

You stared longingly at each other for a while, wishing that things could just be different, the blue cast on the room making it hard to really make out his features. You traced your shaky fingers across his face, down the slope of his nose and the curve of his lips.

“I thought you were gonna die,” you said honestly, avoiding his gaze.

“Die? You just told me you were gonna give me a second chance after this,”

You giggled, then pinched his arm lightly, “Don’t make me laugh this is serious, did 5 treat you okay?”

He nodded, glancing down at himself and running a hand through his hair. “I was high on adrenaline, I think, didn’t feel most of it.”

“Good. Good,” you nodded solemnly, you squeezed his nose softly, and he scrunched it.

You leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I was really scared I’d lose you,” he leaned forward in an attempt to catch your lips in a proper kiss.

“Almost dying doesn’t earn a man a proper kiss?” he pouted in response to your shying away.

You giggled, “Okay, okay,” you leaned forward, and what was meant to be just a peck deepened into a full on makeout session. 

He placed a shaky hand on the back of your head, pulling you in impossibly closer. You yourself pushed yourself closer to him, unsatisfied by the fact you were not completely intertwined. You panted in pauses, then continued in a starving manner. He needed you more than he needed oxygen. His hand slid down your side to your hip, and you parted, leaning your forehead against his.

He stared at you with half lidded eyes, lips swollen and parted, cheeks flushed, breathing laboured. You leaned forward, kissing his cheek, then his forehead, then the tip of his nose, then you cupped his face to kiss his cheeks in a suffocatingly drawn out kiss. 

He snorted, “I should get shot more often,”

“Don’t joke like that,” you said sternly, he kissed your jaw in response.

The room door creaked open gently.

“4… you have to go,” 5 spoke. You let out a small sigh. He held onto your hand tightly, pleading with you to just stay. 5 sniffed a little from where she stood, but gestured with a small taser to show you had no choice. You hung your head, giving him a final smile before walking out. Her eyes were red, tears fresh on her cheeks. You scoffed.

“4,” she tried as you approached your room.

“I don’t blame you 5,” you said through gritted teeth, “But I still don't like you,” she nodded, and tied your hands and feet once you got to your room.

You spent the night huddled in your room, scared and alone. The next morning however, you woke up to 5 and 8 in your room. 5 sat you on a chair, placing a bowl of water around your head, something to strap your head back and metal plier things to hold your eyes open. 

Sleep deprivation torture. They played this weird sort of video on repeat, and you felt your brain progressively turn mushier. The days blurred into each other, with you unable to blink or look away from the imagery- you’d started to hallucinate, unsure of when reality stopped and dreams started. 5 came in daily, multiple times. Breakfast and dinner, you gouged out. Shed clean you, and give you mini updates on 7.

“The wound got infected, but he’s fine, just a little faint,”

“It’s getting better with the antibiotics, but he’s not a fan of the shots. I guess you probably already knew that,”

“He won’t talk anymore, I think he’s too tired,” she turned her back from the camera, “He asked about you though,”

“1 has a plan, just follow my instructions,”

A/N: OKAY so this is way too short for my liking, however, there's really not all that much I can add, and I don't want to blend chapters together ya know? sorry for suddenly disappearing btw! I'm in my minecraft obsession phase. also i need to find a new show to write for bc this series is already almost done :o Taglist:

@entr4p3 @vlurdao @sweet1squash

[awoogayanderes]

CHAPTER TWO : YOUR FIRST NIGHT

➪ sypnosis : your first night in your room is bland until the clock strikes midnight

➪ warnings : mentions of old self harm scars

➪ other notes : in next chapter, YOU’LL GET TO MEET 7TH FLOOR I PROMISE, also not edited sorryyy

➪ prologue | chapter one | chapter two

you start to analyze your room a bit closer, you could see multiple cameras just watching you, it felt invasive. there’s a huge chute on the side of the room with what looked like a bar above it with a bright red zero. there was a wall phone on the side of it, and a large window at the end of the room ?

no, not a window, just a screen, you observed. you could see your fingers trail on what you now realized was a screen. what was the point of just installing a random screen, seems like a waste of money. you then made your way over to the chute before it opened, startling you.

inside was a set of white clothes, a book named “RULE” and a pair of white shoes. you immediately reached for the book, it looked like a menu that a fancy restaurant would provide you. “please hand in all your clothes, accessories, and all other personal items you may possess. then we request that you please change into the uniform we have provided,” you grimaced before turning to a camera.

“do i have to do in front of cameras ?” you ask, not exactly expecting a reply. you continued reading, not wanting to strip yet. “you can keep an eye on the accumulated prize money by checking the scoreboard,” your eyes flickered to the bar above you with the zero, guessing that it was the scoreboard.

“food and shelter will be provided for free. you can access the intercom to buy anything else you may need." well at least now you knew what the phone was for. “however, the price of any purchased items will be deducted from your individual prize money at a special rate." maybe the items here were cheaper or more expensive than they are in the real world.

"items that you intend to use outside your room can be purchased in the square,” in the square ? you thought before realizing it meant the common area. that meant that anything you purchase in your room can’t be taken out, otherwise why buy from the square ?

“all participants are required to remain in their rooms from midnight until 8:00 a.m. you are not allowed to block the cameras. violating any rule will deduct half of the individual's prize money.“ your eyes slightly widened at the consequences. they were strict on their rules, but they should be easy to follow.

“and the show begins at midnight,” you reach for your phone. it was barely 9:51 p.m. you couldn’t help but get annoyed at how early it was. sighing, you grab the clothes and pair of shoes provided from the chute. you lay them down on the floor, neatly.

the clothes looked funky, almost cartoonish. there was a suit jacket, a long sleeve shirt, and dress pants, nor the jacket or pants had any pockets, only drawn on ones. it was definitely a fashion statement, if you could call it that, thankfully there were undergarments, the least they could provide.

looking around a few moments, you gave in with a frown, beginning to take off your sweater and slipping off your shoes in the process. you hesitantly took off your shirt next. you tried your best to not look at any of the old scars you had created on your torso.

next were your pants, sliding them off with ease. even with your underwear still on, you felt very exposed. in less than a minute, you managed to switch your undergarments to the ones provided. you put on the white clothes, looking like an asylum patient.

you fold your clothes and toss them into the open chute. that’s when you notice that you still have your bandaids around some of your fingers on both hands. you think before turning to a random camera.

“i’m not giving you my bandaids…i stole them so they’re technically not even mine,” you say, awkwardly coughing. after you speak to no one in particular, you sit down, leaning against the wall, facing the chute.

well, there was nothing else for you to do, besides go to sleep. you slowly slide to your side and close your eyes. it had already been a long day, it was time to rest. you quickly drift off until you realize something.

how are you going to go to the bathroom ? you open your eyes again, looking around the room again as if a toilet would magically appear. but you close your eyes again, believing that the common area will have some sort of bathroom.

you wake up when you hear whirring, it sounded like a projector turning on. you sit up, startled before you see the words “the show begins now,” on the wall, it must he midnight already, you think to yourself. still keeping yourself alert, you wait.

there was a countdown from 10 to 0, once it finished, the chute with your clothes closed, but nothing else happened. it was definitely anticlimactic. 60 seconds go by and you hear a small click, it’s very faint. you turn, to your scoreboard. 130,000.

you freeze. you swore that it was at 0 just a minute ago. maybe you were mistaken ? but regardless, you wait, 60 seconds go by again. 260,000. you were getting 130,000 won per minute. what in the fuck is happening ?

[awoogayanderes]

𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐑𝐒

➪ 7th floor ( philip yu ) x reader

➪ in crippling debt y/n meets a wasted writer who goes by 7th floor. being in a similar predicament brings them closer, but what happens when he constantly stabs y/n and the lower floors in the back for his own benefit.

➪ warnings : mentions of suicide, mentions of self harm, small mentions of sex work, mentions of murder, starvation, graphic violence, i’ll add more as i go on.

➪ important notes : i’m switching things just a teeny bit like i was talking about in a recent post, the lower numbers of 1-5 are all the same but y/n is 6, so actual 6 in the show will be 8, and the 8 in the show will now be 9, 7 stays as 7, i hope that makes sense, anyways back to the story, and enjoy the mental torment <33 ( slow updates )

“…i’ll carve my name into your heart and you can carve your name into my neck…”

o. prologue : before the show

i. chapter one : let the show begin

ii. chapter two : your first night

iii. chapter three : first impressions

iv. chapter four : nine homo sapiens

to be continued…

© awoogayanderes all rights reserved. do not repost or plagiarize any of my work. all of my writing here is only posted on tumblr, not on any other sites.

[awoogayanderes]

fuck it, i’m gonna make a fanfic about the 8 show

might make the reader traumatized ( by might, i definitely will )

ALSO THIS IS GONNA BE A 7TH FLOOR X READER ( philip yu ) with a pinch of 3rd floor

am i going insane ? absolutely yes