𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖑𝖞

“ It hurt when I crawled out of hell? Listen, the last thing I did before running Phoebus was high school. And before that... It’s safe to say that now is the closest I’ve gotten to heaven in my entire life. ”

“ Are you kidding me? Hell no. He’s staying out of all this, even if I have to kill people to make sure that happens. ”

“ Are you trying to tell me something? ”

“ Doyoon finding out about his grandfather. Either of them. Or anything happening to Doyoon, really. He’s really naïve, even for a seven-year-old. ”

“ Jiho and Bokyung. Easy. ”

Atticus Kang has a lot of ghosts, and sometimes the best way to get rid of ghosts is to bring them back. Which is why he finds himself standing atop a building – specifically Phoebus – holding a throwing knife in one gloved hand, eyes fixed on the roof of the next building which is inaccessible without a helicopter or a ladder. He remembers when he was first given the weapon, when it was presented to him like a gift, even though it was the same as the knives that all the gang’s assassins carried (and probably still do carry). And then his father took him to the edge of a rooftop and told him to kill a man with it.

Yet even with all the terrible memories, all the reminders that he was simply another tool for his father to make use of, Atticus can’t bring himself to throw it away. It’s a link to his past, even though he’s tried so hard to forget, and he thinks that he knows better now. He shouldn’t forget, lest he become what he hates the most. So instead he sits, dropping it to the ground and leaning his head against the concrete wall that runs around the rooftop space.

He should put the knife away. Not many people here know the details of how and why he came to Busan, and there are probably plenty of people who would react less than positively to seeing one of the signature weapons of pretty much everyone’s worst enemy. The rooftop is technically off limits, but Atticus never locks the door and drunk people are surprisingly persistent. But he makes no motion to put it away, just leaves it there lying beside him as he tucks himself further into his hoodie.

Until he hears footsteps, and he looks up, suddenly afraid. “I swear, it’s not what it looks like.”

another day, another one of those ‘errands’. not that chungha hates them, just that she could do without them. it seems to take up too much of her time when she could be doing something else, like prepare for the races –– considering busy it could get there. unfortunately for her, she lost a game of rock paper scissors earlier (surely they have a different way of determining who’s the lucky sucker) which means she had to make her way to phoebus and gather money for the event.

“hi,” she greets the other person as she is ushered towards the back of the bar by the security. “i’m here to get some money for the races. you know, just in case some genius decide to bet money they don’t have.”

for @atticuskang

Atticus has been expecting this visit, although he wasn’t sure who it would be until she came in. He’s never really talked to Chungha much, owing largely to the separation between him and the rest of the gang, but he does know who she is at least. “How much do you need?” he asks, making no motion to actually go get it. “Hundred thousand? Million? How much are the idiots going to try to bet?” He’s exhausted from lack of sleep, and the last thing he wants to deal with is idiots betting on races, but someone has to. Even if that someone woke up at 3am to a sick child and hasn’t gotten rest since. “Do you want a drink or something while you’re here?”

A scoff is exhaled effortlessly , posturing slackening as he leans against the bar counter in his seat , arms supporting him as he watches the other.  ❝ It’s not a scam if you know what I’m trying to do and still give me these , ❞  Daegeun says once he has his hands around the glass.  ❝ It’s pretty good , ❞  he hums ,  ❝ that’s a high compliment coming from me , by the way. I’m a bartender myself , so feel free to pat yourself on the back. “ A mock cheers , he holds his glass up before throwing it back , a pleasant burn down the back of his throat.  ❝ If it was for you , speaks a lot to my character if I can just get you to hand it over. You sure you want to say that and feed my pride ? I mean , I don’t mind … ❞  There’s a trace of a grin on his face , the slight upturn to one corner of his mouth.  ❝ Let’s try this ; You’re cute , for a hellcat. I’m being nice , so pay my two compliments back with another free drink ? See , then it won’t be a ‘ scam ’ , it’ll just be give and take. ❞

“Don’t question my word choice,” Atticus huffs, staring down at his hands. “I won’t give you more if you do that.” Really, he shouldn’t give Daegeun more at all, but sometimes Atticus isn’t particularly good at controlling his impulses. He’s already making another one – except this time it is for himself, and one that he’d probably never give to anyone else. After all, sweet chilli sauce, mango, green grapes, soda water and soju is probably not the most common combination. But it tastes good.

“I give away drinks all the time, even when they are meant for me, though,” he says. Like a liar. “Just ask the staff. It annoys them to no end.” That bit is true – he’s lost count of the number of times they make an exasperated face at him when he really shouldn’t be handing drinks out like candy at a kid’s birthday party (he’s done that too. he doesn’t think doyoon’s friends’ parents were particularly happy about how much sugar their children came home with). “Not much of a compliment – maybe if you’d left the for a hellcat off, you might’ve gotten yourself a shot or two, but now? Nothing.” He shrugs and shakes his head in mock disappointment. (In actuality, this is the most interesting his day has gotten and he’s enjoying himself immensely)

The waning confidence in his ability to win races is one thing , however he has other things he’s confident in and one of those things just happens to be is looks ; he knows he’s a attractive ( he knows it a little too much ) , and although he’s reasonable enough to not contest that , sure , his personality might muddle it all up , in general he is fire.  ❝ Is that so ? ❞  It’s him laughing , amused ,  ❝ whatever helps you sleep at night. ❞  He’s not rude , his tone is light and it’s not like he’s trying to pick a fight. But his amusement does grow as he watches the other start making another drink , no customer in sight to take it. He smirks and leans forward ,  ❝ so , should I be expecting lots of free drinks or are you gonna pretend like that’s not for me and that I’m not extremely cute ? ❞

“ Well, see, the thing is – you might be cute, but you’d be even cuter if you weren’t trying to scam me out of alcohol. ” He still pushes the next drink over the counter to Daegeun, though. It’s entirely possible that he’s just become too well acquainted with people trying to scam him out of alcohol (cough Yehyun cough) and no longer has the energy to convince them not to. “ It could have been for me, ” he adds, despite the fact that he rarely drinks his own creations. But Daegeun is a King, and far from a regular, so he doesn’t know those sorts of things. (He astutely ignores the glaringly obvious fact that he’s a terrible liar)

     “  bold of you to assume i’d turn down a free drink, even if it’s shit.  ” yehyun retorts, happily taking a swig from the glass and guzzling down whatever the fuck atticus had put in there. he hadn’t bothered to watch, didn’t care  about the contents. yehyun was just happy to continue the buzz he already had going – for FREE.

     he licks his lips as the glass is set back down on the counter, brows furrowing in contemplation over what the hell  the taste was supposed to be. usually he just got shots or a beer, the fanciest drink he knew being a fucking screwdriver  of all things. so a mixed drink?  this was all new territory.

     “  well, it actually tastes pretty alright to me. guess you’ve still got it, dad.  ” yehyun chides, leaning forward on the bar-stool so that his elbows sit on the counter and his face rests on his hands. his eyes hazy as usual, but with a teasing glint in them as they watch the older curiously.

     “  so…we feeling generous today?  because i’m down to take advantage of this little happy hour we’ve got going on here.  ”

Atticus shakes his head, acting the part of a disappointed father. “ Yehyun, how are you expecting to get home in one piece tonight if you’re high and drunk? ” Hopefully he’s not expecting Atticus to get him home – as much as he wouldn’t mind, he has a meeting with some higher-ups soon, and he probably shouldn’t be late. Not that they’d notice or care.

“ No happy hour. If you want drinks, prove that you’re sober enough for it to be responsible service of alcohol. ” For most people, he trusts them to know their own limits, but Yehyun can’t even perform basic tasks like laundry – and the odds of him caring about those limits is very low, based on what Atticus has seen of how he looks after himself.

Elbow against the polished counter, with his chin resting on his hand, Jiho watches the other with a smile on his face. It was almost as if he was witnessing the most amusing show in his lifetime when it fact, bartending would’ve been the least amusing things he could possibly be watching given that he does it six days a week. Somehow though, watching another person do it was refreshing to him — or, at least, it may have been because it was Atticus doing it, not just some other bartender. 

“ Hey, I’m not judging,” the male reassured, and really, he wasn’t. The smile on his face could’ve easily been misinterpreted by Atticus and Jiho just hoped he didn’t think it was because he was making fun of him. As the glass was slid towards him, Jiho was quick to try out the drink — and gave a nod of approval afterwards. “ Ah, too bad,” he puts down the glass, already half empty from his ‘sip’, before he goes on, “I would’ve paid you bucks just for this drink alone. It’s good. You should be proud. ” 

Atticus enjoys Jiho’s company (one of the many reasons that he keeps asking the other to work for him), and this is yet another reason why. He’s one of the few people who says things like that – compliments, with no teasing or mocking or goading. 

And he also hates his company for the same reason, he thinks, staring down at the bench-top and wondering where Bokyung is when he needs her to do her job the most. “ Thanks, ” he says, pretending that he’s not stumbling over his words and that his face isn’t flushed. Atticus is great at surviving when people are actually flirting, but a simple, genuine compliment is a lot harder to respond to.

☎ for a RUSHED textø for a LATE NIGHT text?? for a DRUNK text@ for a SCARED text

[ to : BOKYUNG ] i’m on my way home[ to : BOKYUNG ] did you leave the keys where i told you to?[ to : BOKYUNG ] i’ll try to get home earlier next time i swear

[ to : BOKYUNG ] hlep (help)[ to : BOKYUNG ] cna’t ser sraihgt (can’t see straight)[ to : BOKYUNG ] can y picj ne up (can you pick me up)[ to : BOKYUNG ] dmoge dpikes my. dtink (someone spiked my drink)

$ for an ACCIDENTAL text@ for a SCARED text

               ╭ ⌑ curious eyes skim over atticus’ figure as he watches the man’s fingers move avidly around as he makes up some sort of drink jiwan had definitely not asked for. he wasn’t a big fan of mixed drinks; he thought they tasted weird, so he usually settled for the traditional ones. a nice glass of whiskey or a beer were his favorites. he wasn’t against trying anything new, though – he didn’t care about most things, and that was one of them. what difference did it make for him to drink pure alcohol instead of some weak alcohol mixed in with more alcohol and other stuff that would just get him tipsy? he’d humor atticus, though. he seemed to like making it, at least. ❛ don’t worry, i’m not gonna ask anything. just… you do your thing, ❜ a small smile showed signs of appearing on his lips, and his eyebrows shot up as soon as the drink was done and placed in front of him on the counter. looking at him quite suspiciously, jiwan shrugged before grabbing the beverage in his hand. ❛ if i die, i’m thanking you now in advance, ❜ he said, tone flat even though it was ( supposed to be ) a j o k e, and sipped on the drink atticus had made, tasting it on his tongue for a moment before humming appreciatively. ❛ it’s good. do i have to pay for it since i liked it? because if so, then i absolutely hated it. never tasted anything more gross. ❜

Atticus shakes his head. “ So cynical, Jiwan. I said it was free, didn’t I ? ” He’s glad that it isn’t terrible, that he hasn’t completely lost his touch, but that’s hardly grounds for charging someone. It’s not like he can’t afford to give away the occasional thing – the unsuspecting (barely of age) students who have no idea how much drinks should cost and buy the most expensive drinks because they look pretty cover the cost of running the place, and that’s not even including the old men who come in early in the evening and don’t stop drinking their pension away until the bar closes, and he’s still got a very considerable portion of his inheritance safely stored out of his father’s reach. One small drink is barely a dent in the profit. “ Okay, do you want something more to your taste next, or can I keep making up drinks? ”