Snap Out Of It!

The first thing Myung-gi thought when he hit the rough gravel was ‘fuck, that hurt’. The second thing he thought was ‘Have I broken anything?’. And then, upon assessing all his limbs were intact, the third thing he thought was…

‘Holy shit. I’m out’.

A white bag landed beside his head with a solid -thunk-, and if he weren’t so freezing and sore he’d have questioned if the contents were still in one piece.

Not that there was a lot to be in one piece, really. Just the things he’d had on him when he’d joined the games; a neutral tee, jacket, jeans, comfortable (if not slightly falling apart) shoes, a burner phone and his wallet. The barest of bare necessities.

The next thing to land beside him was another bag and the heavy body of…someone. Fear cut through his confusion, still disoriented, thinking the body was perhaps dead- he wouldn’t have been surprised if the sadists running that joint had kept the corpses of eliminated players and ‘assigned’ one for each fortunate living as some kind of threat, maybe to dissuade any pests from tracking them down.

The vehicle he’d been chucked out of roared into ignition and sped away into the night. Myung-gi and the body were left alone; and on the other side of the road, where the drop-off vehicle had been obstructing, was a large sign reading:

ENTERING: SEOUL

Thank god. His home city. Or, wait- maybe that would be more dangerous…

He was snapped out of it when, suddenly, it became apparent that the aforementioned body was very much not dead as it groaned and twisted onto its back.

Myung-gi didn’t recognise them in the dim light, but he did pick up the fact that they were practically naked save from plain boxers; and, now that he’d started to sober up fully from whatever concoction he’d been gassed with, so was he. His bare shoulders scraped along the road as he instinctually brought a hand up to rub at his head and found himself unable to.

Giving a jerk of his wrists, he realised he was bound. He found the same with his ankles when he attempted to stand. The most he could manage was a slow, miserable haul onto his knees, putting strain on his already fatigued joints. But he was alive, he was free, and that was enough to ignore the sharpness cutting into his weight-bearing legs.

‘Hey’ he tried to get the attention of the groaning mystery player, whose head lolled from side to side on the road. ‘…HEY’

The body shifted and, with what looked like great effort, sat itself upright.

‘Urgh…what…?’

‘Wake up. You need to wake up’ Myung-gi didn’t bother asking if they were alright.

‘Mnnngh…whu-?’

‘We’re free. Get yourself together’ he walked on his knees to close the distance between them, stopping when he was practically shoulder-to-shoulder. The other man was hunched over in a way that made him appear blind drunk. It was a miracle the gas hadn’t killed him outright, by the looks of him.

‘Ngh…gimme- gimme a minute-’

Myung-gi lost his patience.

‘We don’t have a minute. We’re sitting on a dusty road in our underwear in pitch black. Anybody could come by’ he nodded his head toward the other’s belongings. ‘You want to lose what little you have left because someone walks past and decides to take advantage? It’s not like you could fight back’

The player lifted his head at that. They blinked hard and flopped their head toward their plastic bag and stared at it for a while.

‘Yeah, okay…okay, you-you’re right, dude’ they attempted to reach for their items and promptly fell sideways. Myung-gi watched as their skinny form writhed and mewled in distress. ‘What the f-fuck! I can’t…I can’t fucking move!’

The scammer tried his best not to groan in annoyance. God. This was not how he wanted to start his new life.

‘You’re tied up’ he snapped, desperate to just get the hell on his way. No doubt he’d deal with all sorts of morons from here on out; he didn’t need to hit the ground running with one.

The player craned their neck to stare at him. Their eyes were huge and watery as they yelped ‘then help me!’.

‘Untie me first. And then I can help you. Okay?’

Myung-gi forced himself to speak with calm confidence. This foggy disaster in front of him was clearly still treading the fine line between dreamland and reality- he could use that to get his way with ease.

And get his way he did, as the player nodded and kicked themselves upright once more. Myung-gi twisted at an awkward angle so that they could use their teeth to tug and pull at the bindings around his wrists. It was clumsy and undignified. Myung-gi tried to ignore the discomfort when teeth accidentally slipped and caught his skin. The uncomfortable feeling of lips brushing on his flesh made him want to jerk away instinctively, but he held still (as he could, what with wobbling on his knees) and with one final pull, the bindings came loose.

He hastily ripped off the ties around his ankles with his now-free hands, relief flooding through him. He was free to get dressed, leave the road behind and rebuild what he could of himself.

He was halfway through rummaging in his bag, messily ripped open, when a small voice came from behind him.

‘W-wait…what about me?’

Oh. Right.

For a second, Myung-gi considered just leaving the player right there where they sat. He had to look out for number one, which in this scenario meant getting to civilisation before he froze to death, but…

‘The death toll is high enough’ he thought to himself as he fumbled with the other’s binds. ‘I won’t contribute to that’

He loosened the ties just enough so that the player could free themselves. They muttered a near incoherent ‘thank you’, and within minutes, were up on their feet stumbling off into the darkness and getting dressed as they went. Their empty white bag lay fluttering in the wind before flying away.

For the first time in days, Myung-gi was truly alone. He watched them wobble away for another few seconds…the last reminder of the games, gone.

Thank fuck for that.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Relief hadn’t been the word when he’d checked inside his wallet and found Won. Five, maybe six, crumpled notes that he’d been saving long before the games. They’d started as a large wad, but his six months on the run had sapped most of his funds. He had his card, sure, but it might as well have been a laminated piece of paper with the amount of value it held.

There was, of course, a shiny golden item within his inside wallet zipper that he hadn’t had before the games. A glinting rectangle adorned with geometric etchings; Square, triangle, circle. His winnings. All 600,000,000 of them.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that after days of not enough sleep, not enough food and too much stress, Myung-gi’s body was barely functioning. The adrenaline of it all had thoroughly worn off, and the overall strain of everything was finally hitting.

Despite being clothed, he held himself tightly around the middle and shivered as he meandered across a wide expanse of dirt. The road was a far distance behind him now. Dead grass crunched under his feet and he very almost twisted his ankle, hardly able to see his hand in front of his face, never mind where he was stepping. He had a one-track mind, legs moving almost on their own to one location- the neon lights of Seoul, illuminating the night sky. The skyrises, from so far away, seemed to cut directly into the atmosphere- their radiance fading into fog, glow flickering as normal people went about their normal evening routines.

Myung-gi couldn’t wait to be one of them. A normal person. No doubt he’d have to move; there were just far too many risks of staying in a huge Korean city. He’d had millions upon millions of subscribers, who as far as he knew, all blamed him for their financial demise. It made sense to think that he’d have more subscribers in a densely populated area.

He was certain that the majority of his viewers had just been ordinary folk trying to get rich quick, but no doubt that there’d be some bigger sharks in the subscriber sea. Real investors with experience under their wing. Professionals who relied on him. People with influence who could easily make his life unliveable.

Hell, even just one or two of that calibre could be a major problem.

Or, say, vengeful thugs? Gang members? Or, maybe just straight-up crazy people like…

Thanos. Nam-gyu.

It was the first he’d thought about them since the drop-off. Disgust and shame came over him as he remembered their ‘special treatment’ of him in the games. What started as violence, and then…

He shuddered in the dark, not from cold this time but from the phantom feel of their fingers on him. The memory of their voices raised in mock-playful lilts as they forced laughter from him. Sure, they’d helped during that pesky panic attack, and in a reluctant way he was grateful- but if he hadn’t been freaking out when they found him in that bathroom, there was no doubt in his mind it would’ve lead to one of their meaner sessions.

A new wave of thankful relief bloomed in his chest at the thought of never having to see them again. All that nonsense, left behind in some obscure facility he’d never have to return to. He supposed, really, it wasn’t the worst thing he had to experience in that place. He felt stupid for being worked up about it at all, honestly. He’d seen people die. And he was hung up on…tickling? Two clowns tickling him?

Whatever. He didn’t need to let them take up more space than necessary. He was his own man now. The city was nearing, shop signs and office titles becoming slowly more readable with every step.

Once more, he counted his won with shaky hands. He had enough for some convenience food and a few days in a motel. Somewhere where the staff weren’t paid enough to care who came and went.

After another ten minutes, possibly the most gruelling yet, Myung-gi had successfully made it to the outskirts of Seoul. He kept his head down, painfully aware of how the vibrant neon lights lit up his features and made him very, very visible. The last thing he needed was something thrown at his head, or someone calling out his name and drawing attention.

He raised his eyes to scan his surroundings. Motel, motel, motel…

There! Tucked away between a small 24 hour off-license and a building of what he guessed was once a collection of offices. It hadn’t looked like it’d been touched in any positive way in years. He hated that he could somewhat relate to a building.  

 The neon ‘open all hours’ sign of the convenience store flickered sadly at him like a beacon. The block of dilapidated offices did not flicker at him. They were a block of dilapidated offices.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

The interior of the motel was as lousy and dishevelled as the exterior. Carpet that was stained with something he hoped wasn’t blood, peeling wallpaper that looked a breath away from giving up entirely, cobwebs that looked as though they housed Korea’s biggest spiders. At least the bored-looking teenage receptionist didn’t ask questions, or realise he’d given a fake name, as she handed him his key. Room 6.

Room 6 was marginally more well-kept, probably because some poor cleaner had no choice but to keep it looking relatively liveable.

That’s not to say it was luxurious by any means. It was hardly what he’d call comfort, but it would have to do. The gold winnings card taunted him from where it sat snug in his wallet. It would be so easy to withdraw his money. Hell, he could do it tonight.

But no. Who knows what those red-guard fuckers had rigged on it. He wouldn’t be surprised if it was some kind of cruel joke- he could picture it now. Withdrawing his well-earned Won, a silent tracker within the card chip sending an alert to local authorities, and boom. His freedom crumbling all at once.

Myung-gi wasn’t stupid, though. He knew at some point he’d just have to take the risk, or he’d find himself homeless and starving. He’d booked in for three days- as far as his crumpled Won notes had allowed. He hadn’t dared used the card. He left no evidence, no digital trail. The three days of a roof over his head would be more than enough time to figure something out.

For now, though, he sat at the edge of his bed and nibbled at a cold kimbap he’d bought from the convenience store. The nightlife outside his room was mercifully quiet. It must be, what? Nearing midnight by now? He didn’t care enough to check.

Truthfully- he was terrified. Jun-hee was still out there. Still very pregnant. How had she held up with the gas? Maybe the facility had transported her by different means as to not drug a pregnant woman.

Realistically, he knew they probably didn’t. If they’d cared about the baby’s wellbeing, they wouldn’t have let her join the games in the first place.

Was she okay? Had she already pulled her winnings, was she staying with one of her teammates, was she staying in a shitty motel too? He remembered how she’d looked at him in the dorm. Her eyes, that used to look at him with adoration, instead had been full of betrayal and something similar to disappointment.

Say she’d already had the baby? Maybe the drug and the stress had induced labour? He didn’t know much about pregnancy, but it didn’t take a genius to work out that substances and pregnant women didn’t mix. She was tough, tougher than half of those other players with a hardened resilience to match- but that didn’t make her invincible.

The first thing he’d do when he was settled was find her. Maybe she’d want nothing to do with him, and she was well within her rights to do so, but she was the mother of his child and he had to at least try. Even if-

Buzz

…what was that.

…

…

Buzz

Myung-gi near jumped out of his skin. Had someone planted a tracker on him without knowing? Maybe the guy he’d been dumped out with wasn’t as loopy as he’d seemed?

He stood from the bed in a panic and looked for the source. He stayed as quiet as his laboured breathing would allow, and that’s when he realised- his phone.

But that was impossible. He had no numbers. He only carried it around to check the time, or stocks, or for extreme emergencies that could result in death. Occasionally he’d looked at the news to make sure he wasn’t left behind by the rest of the world.

Nobody should be able to text him. He’d blocked everyone when the scam hit, not wanting to be traceable and not wanting to put his loved ones in danger. He knew sure as fuck that he hadn’t given out his number since then, so who could be texting him?

Myung-gi stared at his phone with wild eyes, chest heaving. The shitty, frayed charger he’d borrowed from that teenage receptionist stared back at him. The black screen of his phone taunted him. He held his breath.

Ten seconds passed. Then twenty, then thirty.

Two notifications…maybe it wasn’t anything to be worried about. Maybe- maybe a random nation-wide alert or something? Maybe a demand for a software upgrade?

The screen suddenly flashed white with another daunting buzz.

Myung-gi’s blood ran cold. From where he was standing, the small cracked interface of his phone clearly displayed a text. He couldn’t read it, didn’t want to read it, but it was undoubtedly a text. From a human being.

It was a miracle his legs were keeping him upright as he placed one trembling foot in front of the other until he reached the battered bedside cabinet. The screen had turned dormant again, and his vision was blurred at the edges when he unhooked the charger and brought it to his face.

23:34- Hav u missed me?

23:34- I’ve missed u

Myung-gi was going to be sick. He was actually, physically going to be sick.

23.37- Don’t ignore me rat. No way 2 treat ur best friend

The words ‘best friend’ immediately confirmed Myung-gi’s worst fear. There was only one person it could be- it was far too perfect to be a coincidence. A deep pit formed in his stomach.

23.40- Ur shit at hiding coinboy

23.40- Found u :)

The kimbap violently forced its way up his throat only for him to swallow it back down. That pit in his stomach grew to an impossible size, a black hole that forced him into a cold sweat of primal panic.

This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t real. He’d wake up any minute now, back on that gravel, back on that road, watching the drop-off van speed away into the night.

But the panic didn’t break. The illusion he hung onto tightly refused to expose itself into the dim.

‘Fuck fuck fuck’

How the hell had Thanos found him? He’d been so careful. Not just to avoid Thanos, but anyone. From the second he became a wanted man he’d made himself untraceable. He’d become very good at it too if he were to admit it. He was so certain he’d done everything right.

Myung-gi became acutely aware of the fact he was simply standing, phone in hand, a sitting duck for that crazy fucker to find him.

He had to move. Had to do something. To hell with the rest of his deposit, he’d bite the bullet after all and withdraw from his winnings once he got somewhere safe. He’d gone days without eating before, he could do it again if necessary.

 Anything that meant putting distance between him and that purple-haired lunatic.

He snatched his jacket from where it lay on the bed, pocketed his phone into his jeans (as well as the charger; he figured he needed it more) and patted his thigh to assure himself his wallet was still safe.

Check, check, check.

Everything he came with, he’d leave with. There’d be no overly distinct sign that he’d have even been in this motel, he just had to escape before things could go any more south than they already were.

He yanked the door open, praying the horrible icy clench around his heart would soothe itself the farther away he got from the motel, prepared to-

He slammed headfirst into a solid warmth.

Myung-gi didn’t even realise he’d been found at first.

‘Heyyy, coinboy. What’s the rush, huh?’

Complete and utter shock held his body paralysed. He couldn’t even find the profanities to shout. For one adrenaline-fuelled moment, his eyes stayed locked onto the blue contacts of the man who hated him the most in the world. Thanos.

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, before he was roughly pushed down toward the bed. The springs creaked under him, completely unaware of the danger above.

‘Did you think you could’a just run away?’ The voice above him rang out. ‘You’re stupider than you look, you motherfucker’. Thanos loomed over him, bracketing both sides of Myung-gi’s face with two long arms. ‘And you look pretty damn stupid’.

Myung-gi could hardly even acknowledge the words. His limbs moved on instinct- push, slap, scratch. They did nothing. He was blinded by terror.

Despite his incoordination, he managed to connect his fist with Thanos’ jaw. It was weak and sloppy, but a spark of brief satisfaction shot through him.

This was short lived as Thanos simply raised his eyebrows in disbelief and laughed in his face, as if thrilled by Myung-gi’s audacity to protect himself, grabbing the offending hand and twisting it hard. Myung-gi yelped and was forced to still. A broken wrist would eradicate any chance of getting the upper hand in…whatever hell was about to come.

So, he yelled. As loud as he could. His last weapon being his voice, he yelled like he’d never yelled before.

‘GET OFF ME!’ Myung-gi screamed. ‘HELP! FUCKING HELP ME!’

It was hard to get such volume, what with however-many-kilograms of maniac rapper bearing down on his chest. The guy wasn’t exactly heavy, probably 150lbs if that, but he was still a grown man. And Myung-gi was considerably smaller, lighter, and most certainly unprepared for a fight.

‘SOMEONE HE-’

His cries were abruptly forced into muffled barely-there protests as Thanos slapped a hand over his mouth. Slender fingers dug into his cheek.

‘Don’t know what you think shouting for help is gonna do, man. Nobody here cares enough about their damn selves, let alone some random fuck’ He leant closer. ‘And if anyone does come in? I’ll tell ‘em you’re my brother. Havin’ an episode or somethin’.

If the situation had been any different, Myung-gi would’ve snorted. Maybe even cracked a smile. The idea anyone would believe that he and this- this madman, could be even remotely related, was downright preposterous.

Thanos took the opportunity whilst he could.

It wasn’t hard to manhandle him up. The younger man didn’t have much leverage what with the awkward angle, but that didn’t stop him from trying. Thanos quickly quashed him with a firm twist of the wrist again. ‘Shut it, MG coin’.

Myung-gi winced and hissed through his teeth and Thanos shoved him forward- he’d have fallen flat on his face if two limbs hadn’t wrapped around his middle, pinning his arms to his side and lifting.

‘Wh-what the fuck are you doing?! HELP! SOMEONE HELP!’

He was ‘allowed’ to vocalise his fear now, but it was probably just because his attacker no longer had a hand free to muffle him. Thanos’ jaw was brushing by his temple and he swore he heard a ‘tsk’. Like actively kidnapping him was some kind of massive inconvenience.

The rapper grunted and huffed as he half-carried, half-dragged a kicking Myung-gi through the open door. ‘Shit, man’ he muttered, mostly to himself. ‘the fuck you got in your pockets? Lead?’ and then a small chuckle, half smothered by another grunt of exertion, ‘could sell that at least’

His blasé attitude of the whole situation was astounding. It was as if it didn’t even occur to him what he was actually doing. His lack of morals so low that he didn’t even have the capacity to care.

Within minutes, Myung-gi found himself manoeuvred from his cold, dismal room to the colder, more dismal hallway. He hadn’t stopped fighting the entire time, digging his heels into the carpet and trying to headbutt backwards and just being an overall nuisance.

In a way, being dragged into a more public part of the motel was almost akin to relief. Surely, being dragged right past all these other doors, someone would hear him? Someone would come to his rescue, or at least poke a head out?

‘HELP! HELP! I’M BEING KIDNAPPED!’ And, when that didn’t get any reaction except from a sharper squeeze from Thanos, he yelled out the one thing surely nobody could ignore-

‘FIRE! FIRE! THERE’S A FIRE OUT HERE!’

He actually felt Thanos stiffen a bit at that. It was satisfying in a small way. If he could inflict even an ounce of discomfort onto that bastard, then great.

Unfortunately, despite every indication pointing otherwise, Thanos was not a completely stupid man. All this new little trick seemed to do was make him realise he had to work faster.

‘Okay, man, have it your way’

And suddenly the hallway blurred and Myung-gi felt himself trip, the arms around him loosening and leaving him to freefall for less than a second before scooping him up bridal style.

He hardly had time to process, instead panic going into overdrive as this did, in fact, let Thanos work faster. Room doors and tacky paintings of flower bouquets passed him in one amalgamative blur. Thanos wasn’t by any means a towering boulder of a man, but he was a lot stronger than he seemed, and this new hold gave him an air of efficiency.

Myung-gi despaired.

Why wasn’t anyone coming for him? Were the patrons of this motel completely morally grey? Even the threat of a nearby fire hadn’t so much as induced a peep. If it had been a real fire, would they just let themselves burn? What kind of hopeless crowd did this place lure in?!

His legs tried to kick, but Thanos had his arm squeezed around his thighs, so any movement was strenuous and sapped energy. The same situation pertained to his arms- one was crushed against Thanos’ chest, the other held tight against his side. He could hardly even turn his head unless he wanted to risk a sprain.

He’d never felt such suffocating helplessness in his life. He had held out hope that maybe he’d be carried down past the front desk- the teenage receptionist, who had looked chronically and perpetually dissociated, surely wouldn’t have been able to ignore the sight of one grown man carrying another- but it was not to be. It seemed Thanos was trying to find an alternative exit, taking him deeper into the belly of the motel, the hallway twisting and turning. He couldn’t get a good enough view, what with his only scenery being the ceiling and Thanos’ chin, but he could feel from their movements whenever Thanos would turn a corner.

He was still screaming, fighting, even trying to spit at Thanos once which resulted in a disgusted noise and a squeeze so tight he swore his ribs might break. ‘You’re a pig, y’know that? Should just drop you right now, leave you to rot’

‘Yes fucking please’, thought Myung-gi amidst his struggling. ‘Rotting in here sounds great, thank you’

He felt Thanos come to a stop, and a knee briefly came up under his back followed by a loud ‘bang’.

Cold night air enveloped him and the mould-ridden ceiling of the motel gave away to a brilliant black sky. The stars were almost invisible given the smog that Seoul produced.

They’d come out a fire escape. The only indication Myung-gi had for this was the sickly stomach-dropping feeling in his stomach that usually accompanied going over a speed bump; as well as a descent down a flight of spiralling stairs, the metallic ‘thud’ of feet on rusty steps, and a very brief flash of a ‘fire exit only’ sign that disappeared behind Thanos’ shoulder the further downwards they went.

The alarm didn’t sound, patrons stayed sleeping, and Myung-gi’s shouting finally died down to ragged panting. His lungs burnt and his body was sore. He was so, so tired, and nobody was coming for him.

It seemed Thanos was running out of steam himself. Even the thrill of kidnapping the man who ruined your life had to fizzle out at some point, and his arms were starting to shake.

But he’d gotten this far, and he wasn’t about to give up the chance to have this bastard exactly where he wanted him.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, the wind blew and bit into Myung-gi’s skin. His jacket was thin and had come off one shoulder in the struggle- he couldn’t exactly pull it back around himself either. The freeze was unbearable, and without struggling and exhausting himself further, it became disgustingly apparent that the only warmth he could get was from the very man kidnapping him.

Myung-gi shivered violently and felt Thanos tighten his hold. ‘Quit doin’ that’ he muttered, as if it was some kind of conscious choice the scammer was making to spite him. Myung-gi shivered again. He couldn’t help it.

Thanos stopped still and sneered down at him in that trademark Thanos way for a moment, studying him like he was something revolting. ‘Fuck you doin’ that for?’ and then breaking into a nasty smirk, ‘what, scared?’.

Myung-gi was scared. Terrified. But he wasn’t going to let Thanos know that. It wasn’t so much fear that was making him shiver, anyway. It really was the cold.

‘…go to hell’

It came out with venom and bite, but in a way that was almost casual. Like they were a pair of disgruntled roommates. What was the point in screaming and shouting now? Thanos had walked them into the confines of an alley, anyway, the walls tall and protective around them. Even if there were citizens around who’d be more concerned than the motel guests, no amount of crying out would do any good. He was silenced, not by a hand over his mouth this time, but sheer exhaustion and the city itself.

Thanos looked like he was going to say something equally as venomous just as a strong wind blew and Myung-gi started vibrating in his arms. His sneer came back twice as hard.

‘…fuckin’ hell, man. S’like babysittin’’ And he readjusted his hold with a ‘whup!’ and jostled Myung-gi upwards, similar to how a person would hike up their friend whilst giving them a piggyback. His arms covered more of Myung-gi’s person now, and he squeezed a bit tighter so Myung-gi was almost fused to him.

‘Better?’ He spat, giving his victim two condescending taps with what little finger movement he could and continuing into the alley’s depths.

Annoyingly, it was better. Marginally. Being held so tight meant more of the older man’s body warmth seeped into him, and with Thanos’ arms curled higher than before, there was less exposed ‘him’ for the cold air to nip at.

He could see even less now, the inside of Thanos’ elbow ‘cradling’ the back of his skull and the nape of his neck in such a way that he could hardly even aim his eyes at his own shoulder, but he could tell they were reaching the end of the alley.

The adrenaline that had been lying dormant surged and made his chest ache.

A second location. Thanos wasn’t just taking him for a walk. He hadn’t gone through the trouble of tracking him down and abducting him for shits and giggles. He had a motive and a plan and the past fifteen minutes had proved how serious he was about carrying it to fruition.

He wriggled and jerked harder, brow furrowed in exertion and huffing through clenched teeth. Thanos made a sound that could’ve been surprise or could’ve been indignation, but didn’t stop moving.

The mouth of the alley opened into a small clearing, boxed in by towering, ambiguous blocks. Thanos let out a loud ‘whoop’ followed by ‘LOOK WHO I FOUND!’ and then hunched slightly. Myung-gi felt himself swoop downwards and gasped, thinking he was about to be knocked clean out on the hard ground.

He braced for impact, but impact didn’t come. He was still held tight in the arms of a maniac, but now…he could see his surroundings.

It hadn’t been a fake-out to jostle his nerves, it had been a presentation.

To Nam-gyu.

He stood leaning on a car with tinted windows, hands in his pockets. As soon as he saw Thanos his eyes lit up and he broke into a giddy grin, skipping over to them.

‘HA! No way! No fucking way! You actually got him?!’ He spoke with such astounded disbelief it was as if he hadn’t expected the plan to work at all. He bent his knees and cocked his head sideways to mirror Myung-gi’s. ‘Hiiii MG coin!’ he lilted like he was greeting a puppy.

Myung-gi stared at him in horror. He felt like a fucking idiot to not have considered Nam-gyu would be a part of this. He’d obviously not stood a chance with Thanos, but with the other junkie in the mix?

That second location was as good as promised.

‘Awhh, look. So happy to see me he can’t even speak’ Nam-gyu straightened up and bounced on his toes from foot to foot. ‘How was it? Did he struggle? Did you have to-’

Don’t say tickle, don’t say tickle…

‘-fuck him up?’

Sigh of relief.

‘He doesn’t really look bruised, though. Unless you just tickled him, HA!’

Myung-gi could’ve ripped off the finger that kept flapping around his face.

He was eye-level with Nam-gyu’s abdomen and if his arms had been free, the junkie would’ve been doubled over thirty seconds ago.

‘Man, I’ll tell you all about it later. My arms are killin’’.

Nam-gyu hopped out the way, giggling wildly, and the car came back into view. It was in good shape, fairly modern looking, and…purple. Because of course it was.

It was also obvious to anyone with an amount of contextual awareness that he was going to take a ride in it.

‘W-wait- wait, just- STOP!’

Thanos did stop.

But not because Myung-gi had asked him to.

‘Nam-su’

‘Nam-gyu’

‘Nam-gyu. You got the thing?’

Nam-gyu looked vaguely confused for a moment before nodding his head with a slow, knowing ‘ahhh!’, eyebrows raised. A hand slid into the pocket of his tattered bomber jacket. It rifled around, the fabric stretching and bulging where his hand dug, and when it emerged it was holding a small, white pill.

The profanities bubbling in Myung-gi’s chest died halfway to his throat. He might as well have died from the way his entire body went rigid, the way his heart stopped beating. The way his entire world narrowed down to that chalky disc between Nam-gyu’s thumb and forefinger.

Thanos adjusted his grip, forearms aching.

‘C’mon, dose him up. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up, man’

Nam-gyu waved the pill tauntingly in the air, inches away from Myung-gi’s face.

‘Open wiiide, MG coin! Time for your medicine!’

‘F-fuck off’

It’s the best he could do.

‘Oooo, ‘fuck off!’ You talk to your dead channel with that mouth?’

‘I’m- I’m serious’ Myung-gi’s voice came out thin and humiliatingly warbled. ‘I’m not taking anything you give me’

‘I think you are!’

‘Stop playin’ and get it down him before I drop his ass’

And suddenly slender fingers grabbed his cheeks and pressed into the hinge of his jaw. The hold was rough, determined, a far-cry from the playful sing-songy tone. ‘Lemme see those pearly whites!’

And see those pearly whites he did as Myung-gi snarled and gnashed and fought with everything he could. The fingers on his jaw simply pressed tighter and the shock of it all left him wide open.

The pill was placed, almost gently, right at the back of his throat. He didn’t have to taste it, which was the smallest mercy in the sea of all mercies, because no doubt it would taste as far from pleasant as possible.

He expected to choke or gag, but Nam-gyu didn’t make it anymore drawn-out than it needed to be. Didn’t linger his fingers in his mouth any longer than necessary, didn’t make any perverse comments. Simply withdrew and covered Myung-gi’s mouth and nose with both hands.

‘C’mon. Swallow’

Myung-gi fought against the demand as hard as possible, but inevitably reflex won and he hardly even felt as the pill went down. The hands over his face let him breathe and he felt his chest tighten.

He’d just been force-fed some…some substance. He’d never taken a drug in his life, and his first exposure to such a thing was in the presence of these two. Whilst being kidnapped.

He coughed and spluttered and tried to make himself throw up. They’d reached the car and Nam-gyu opened the back door, Thanos throwing him in like luggage. He landed clumsily along the backseat and immediately sat up to escape out the opposite side.

He didn’t even get a chance to curl his fingers round the handle before the door swung open and Nam-gyu pushed him back down. Myung-gi gasped and went to grab the handle of the now-closed door he was originally thrown in from. Nam-gyu was faster and eerily organised and hooked an arm around Myung-gi’s chest, pulling him backwards.

And that was that.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanos had already sat down in the driver’s seat and pulled out the alley by the time the struggle had come to an end.

Not an end by Myung-gi’s choice- if he could, he’d strangle the both of them right then and there.

No, the struggle had come to an end because he found himself lying face-up across the backseats, head in Nam-gyu’s lap and both wrists pinned to his own chest. He couldn’t get enough leverage to break free.

It sure as hell didn’t stop him from trying, though. He had to act fast, faster than he ever had. If whatever chemical shit they’d given him kicked in before he got free…

He didn’t want to think about it.

He kicked at the window. Loud, hard thuds that infuriatingly did nothing.

He tried to roll himself into the footwell, but rolling anywhere is hard when your hands are pinned and your head is trapped.

He shouted, he thrashed, he swore. He tried to bite. Reduced to his animalistic instincts to save himself.

His shoe met Thanos’ headrest aggressively. The car swerved.

‘FUCK!’ Thanos shouted with surprise, handling the wheel rapidly to get them back central. ‘You tryna get us all killed, you fuckin’ idiot?’ He shouted back.

‘Yes’ Thought Myung-gi bitterly. ‘Yes I am’.

He kicked again and again, hope blossoming in his chest that if he could just create the illusion that the driver of this car was drunk- swerving, zipping, being an overall danger on the road- they’d get pulled over.

‘STOP’ thump ‘THE’ thump ‘CAR’ thump.

The vehicle dipped from one lane to another perilously. They’d reached the outskirts of Seoul now, a highway, and it was only a matter of time before another car passed by and alerted authorities of ‘the purple Veloster zipping about in all directions’.

‘Jesus-! Nam-su, would you shut him the fuck up?’ Thanos snapped, at his wits end as if he didn’t kidnap a grown man and the whole situation was very much his fault.

Nam-gyu was more than happy to oblige. He gave Myung-gi’s wrists a firm shake and pulled him across his lap a little more to get his attention.

‘Listen, asshole’ he spat, grin wide. ‘You have about- what? Twenty minutes before that pill does its thing?’ he leant down so that his hair itched Myung-gi’s cheeks. ‘You can either lie here all nice and polite, fall asleep peacefully, or’ he released a wrist, using Myung-gi’s horrified paralysis against him to quickly bundle it up in his other hand, ‘I can tickle you until it kicks in’.

He registered the look that came across Myung-gi’s face and his grin widened. He gave his sternum a light poke.

‘That’s right. Your last conscious moments will be spent giggling like a little freak. Is that what you want? Huh? Is it?’ He enunciated the last few words with another poke, harder this time, aiming for the edge of his ribcage.

Myung-gi thought about it. Really thought about it. He could keep kicking, but all that would serve to do was make Thanos angrier and give Nam-gyu more of a reason to torment him.

If he had an absolute guarantee that his efforts would equal his freedom, then there was zero doubt that he’d give it all he had.

But…

He didn’t class it as giving up. He was just being smart. Investing in his own safety- so he settled.

Nam-gyu narrowed his eyes and his toothy grin mellowed into a tight-lipped smile. ‘Good boy’ he cooed condescendingly. He could feel the pulse of both wrists in his one-handed grip. Fast, like a rabbit’s. ‘Isn’t that better?’

The view from the window changed faster than ice melting in the sun. It was dark, approaching 2AM, and the trees dotted along the highway were just barely visible. Seoul must’ve been a few miles back by now, the road’s expanse welcoming them into the gloom.

Without the kicking and screaming, the journey felt almost peaceful. Thanos was a good driver, and the car ran smooth. Soft, purple lighting ran on either side of the car’s interior, glowing strips that were obviously commissioned by someone with more money than sense.

Myung-gi didn’t even realise music had been playing until Thanos started quietly half-humming, half-singing. Some early 2000’s sounding track, the tune ebbing and flowing through Myung-gi’s ears as he suddenly became very, very self aware.

Twenty minutes? Is that what Nam-gyu had said? It had been two minutes- no, wait, four- five?

His breathing started coming shallow, chest hitching. He’d never done drugs before. He had no idea what kind of dosage he’d been given. He had no idea what he’d been given. Suppose it gave him a heart attack, or a seizure, or-

‘WAIT!’ It came out with such suddenness and urgency that Nam-gyu jumped. Thanos flicked his eyes to the mirror for just a moment.

‘Fucking hell! Don’t you know when to fucking quit?’ Nam-gyu snarled down at him, playfulness gone, and placed a clawed hand on his stomach. ‘I told you what would happen, MG coin. It’s like you’re trying to piss me off’

‘Ha, make him laugh, man. Prick’s askin’ for it’

‘N-no, NO! Wait, just- wait a minute!’

Nam-gyu hesitated. With the head in his lap, he could see every facial expression as close as could be. Myung-gi’s eyes were blown wide, and he could feel his chest moving in sharp staccato rhythm from where he was holding the scammer’s wrists to his sternum. The pulse was hammering now. On his skin, a sheen of sweat glistened in the soft purple. The guy was shaking- which ultimately made sense. He’d been kidnapped by the two people who hated him most in the world.

But this was a different kind of fear. One that looked far too similar to the bathroom. Nam-gyu didn’t feel sorry for him, never that, but having him genuinely on the verge of some kind of breakdown wasn’t the kind of fun he’d been anticipating.

‘Oh, come on, MG coin. Relax, yeah? This is supposed to be the chill bit’ He said with annoyance, like Myung-gi was ruining a casual hangout.

‘I don’t hear any lauuughiiiing!’ Sang Thanos from the front seat.

‘He’s going all weird on me, dude’ replied Nam-gyu. ‘Looks like he’s gonna like… I don’t know. Pass out or something’

‘…that’s kinda the idea, Nam-su’

‘Nah, not like that. He’s getting himself all worked up’

Nam-gyu waited for Thanos to do something. To stop the car, talk Myung-gi down, take the lead just like he did back in the games.

But he didn’t.

Myung-gi made some kind of keening noise like he was about to cry. Fuck this, Nam-gyu thought to himself. I’m not having this con-artist cry all over my lap.

‘Hey, coin’ he said. ‘What’s up, huh? You made less of a fuss when I dosed you up’

There was a stretch of silence. Thanos had turned the music down. If something were to get out of hand in the back, he wanted to be prepared.

‘…Will it hurt…?’

The words were so small and frightened that neither druggie thought they’d heard right.

Nam-gyu furrowed his brow. ‘Will what hurt?’

‘The drug…’

Nam-gyu stared down at his hostage. His hostage stared back. He looked ridiculous. Shaking so hard it was a wonder he hadn’t burnt through the upholstery.

He could mess with him. It would be so easy. The guy had literally zero mental defences at this moment, and it would take a mere couple of words to ruin his last few conscious minutes.

Wouldn’t that be funny?

Myung-gi squirmed and looked glassy-eyed toward the ceiling, breathing hard like he was trying to self-soothe.

The guilt-not-guilt came back harder. As much as Nam-gyu hated the guy, seeing him like this was just…uncomfortable.

More importantly, Thanos would probably kill him.

‘No, MG coin’ he forced his voice to soften. He couldn’t really ‘do’ genuine sympathy, but he could certainly arm himself with pouty condescension. ‘It won’t hurt. It’s like…everything goes real funny, and then real heavy, and then there’s nothing’.

‘…mmngghhh…’

Nam-gyu used his free arm to slide under the held wrists, so he was putting direct pressure over the scammer’s heart. Pressure was supposed to ground people, right?

It’s not like Myung-gi would really remember this, anyway.

‘It’s like getting into a hot bath. All warm and comforting. And then the deepest sleep you’ve ever had’

‘I’ve never done drugs before’

Thanos laughed from up front.

‘Hardly what I’d call a drug, coinboy. A mild sedative at best. Take it myself sometimes’

Myung-gi felt the tiniest relief pass through him. It wasn’t the most inspiring pep talk, given that Thanos probably had the tolerance of an Ox, but…surely if they wanted to really harm him, he’d know about it by now?

He looked back to Nam-gyu, who was already staring at him with a mildly entertained expression.

‘…What if I throw up’

‘Then I’ll turn you over’

‘What if I have a seizure’

‘Then I’ll turn you over’

‘What if I die’

‘Fuck dude, I don’t know. I’ll turn you over, I guess’

It wasn’t very funny, but Myung-gi laughed. Actually laughed.

The drug was starting to take effect.

Nam-gyu visibly breathed a sigh of relief. Thanos snorted.

‘You’re a comedian, Nam-gyu’

Nam-gyu felt the hostage soften. Like his body was turning to butter. The frantic breathing, the panic, washing away like dirt after a heavy rain.

‘Ohoho. Dude. He’s like- it’s happening’

‘Took long enough’

Nam-gyu tried to study Myung-gi’s face, but the guy was swivelling his head as if he’d just woken up from a 1000-year sleep and was trying to make sense of his surroundings. The purple glow fascinated him. The window view fascinated him. It was like he was seeing colour for the first time. Like he was seeing anything for the first time.

‘MG coiiin!’ Nam-gyu chimed to get his attention.

Myung-gi’s eyes, that usually bore him perfect vision, tried to track the noise. He made eye contact with Nam-gyu (he thought, anyway) and the other man grinned broadly down at him.

‘Hellooooo!’ He sang, voice high and playful.

Myung-gi returned the smile.

‘ahh..aha…what d’you want…’ His head lolled to the side, any fear from before converted to a rapidly-increasing calm.

Nam-gyu was thrilled. Utterly, delightedly thrilled. Myung-gi was usually so spiteful and short-tempered. It was hilarious to see him like this. Having the Amazing Myung-gi of MG Coin choosing (well, loosely put) to smile and giggle without the use of fingers in his ribs was just too good.

‘Where…where we goin’ anyway?’ The sedative was acting fast. Neither junkie had lied when they said it wasn’t harmful- it wasn’t even especially potent. Myung-gi was just empty-bellied and inexperienced.

‘Disneyland’ Thanos replied. An opportunity to mess with Myung-gi was an opportunity well taken, in his opinion. And with the younger man getting loopier and loopier, no resistance, artificially smiley and euphoric?

Well. They could be as stupid as they liked.

Myung-gi burst into laughter.

‘Disneyland! Th-thaha…! That’s so stupihihid!’

Nam-gyu snorted. This was fucking great. A built-in ‘play with the scammer’ session to entertain on the journey.

‘Nah, man! I mean it. Gonna take ya to see Mickey mouse, Donald duck…that other freak who walks around on a leash’

‘You mean- hihihi- Nam-gyuhuhu?’

‘WOAAHH!’ Thanos cackled in disbelief and smacked the wheel. ‘Nam-su! Man! You takin’ that?!’

Nam-gyu bristled in a way that was completely unnecessary given that Myung-gi was on a different planet. He knows what he’s doing, he thought, previous delight rotting into a deep, embarrassed disdain. This is supposed to be fun for me and Thanos. We’re supposed to be messing with him together. Even in this state he still thinks he’s better than me.

Complete nonsense, of course. Myung-gi had already forgotten the past thirty seconds, which made what came next a confusing shock.

‘AH! HEHEHEY! WH-WHAhahAHA!’

Something awful and unknown and horrendously ticklish was happening to him. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was, or where it was, he just knew it felt awful, and for some reason was making him laugh.

‘Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, dickhead’

The tickling radiated through his core, a tormenting ache made ten times worse from the effects of the pill. He thrashed once, twice, cackling into Nam-gyu’s thighs from the angle he’d twisted.

Nam-gyu felt moisture leak into his jeans.

‘Eurgh, are you drooling on me?’ He sneered, tickling harder, squeezing up and down a lean oblique.  

Good. He’d teach him to try and be smart.

Myung-gi couldn’t quite tell why, but his energy sapped faster than usual. He lolled his head and howled with laughter, everything going boneless at once. It was horrendously ticklish.  He couldn’t flail or kick or even squirm. A leg jolted weakly, purely reflex, and then stilled.

He didn’t even realise that his wrists were free now. They stayed limp on his chest, fingers curled into his shirt to try and alleviate the sensation.

‘That tickle, huh? You gonna apologise?’

Apologise? Apologise for what?

His hipbone was suddenly submerged with firm pinches and his upper ribs squeezed and suddenly he found himself willing to confess to things he hadn’t done.

‘AHAhahaHA! SAHAHaha! SAHAHA- AGH! HEHhe!’

His laughter came out hard and strained, as it had no choice. It was exhausting to laugh like this. He couldn’t move, his sides were aching, he didn’t even know why this was happening in the first place.  

‘Say you’re sorry’

‘SAHAHAHAHA! AHHAHAHA!’

‘Say it, MG coin. Or I’m going til you’re conked out’

‘S-SAHaha- SOHOHOR- AHahahAH!’

He was trying, dammit!

It was as if Nam-gyu didn’t even want an apology. He wasn’t even giving him a chance. Frustration built and built without a pressure valve to turn.

‘It’s like you don’t even want me to stop!’ The playful edge was back, Nam-gyu riding on a power high of a man who couldn’t even fight back. He didn’t care that Myung-gi couldn’t even remember why he was being punished, that he was squealing and giggling too hard to form a simple ‘sorry’ for something that, really, was a non-issue. He’d been revelling in taking advantage of how smiley and pliable Myung-gi had been; he wanted that back. Not that usual smarmy persona. They’d have plenty of time with that side of MG coin later.

if it meant administering a punishment that didn’t fit the crime, then fine. Amazing, even. Any reason to put that fucker back in his place, even if it was with something as stupid (but ridiculously entertaining) as tickling.

‘SA-haHA! SahahAHEHEIHIHI!’ Myung-gi’s laughter became high-pitched and shrill. His brain was soup, but the one thing he was desperately holding onto was the fact Nam-gyu wanted an apology. It didn’t matter to him that he couldn’t remember why. If he forgot, if he just completely abandoned trying to spit out a simple ‘sorry’, then he was certain he’d just be tickled until he died.

His head, with great effort, fell to the side, and his unfocused vision desperately tried to pinpoint a new way out. The ‘sorry’ he was trying to say physically would not come. The car’s interior was swimming, purple and black and the low glare of the radio swirling into one. For the umpteenth time in the past hour and a half, he realised nobody was coming for him. This was it. This is how he was going to die. He wasn’t certain of many things right now, but he was certain about that.

Salvation came in the form of a disgraced, purple-haired rapper.

‘Aight, aight. Cut it out, man. Tryna drive’

Neither of the backseat occupiers heard him at first. Or, one of them did, and just pretended not to in favour of their own enjoyment.

‘HEhEHEHELP!’

‘Nam-gyu! Dude! He’s gonna fuckin’ piss himself on my seats’

Nam-gyu considered ‘not hearing’ him just one more time, but Myung-gi had started squeaking and sobbing with laughter and that was apology enough. He never really cared about getting one anyway- he was just bitter from the ‘insult’ and cruel enough to demand something whilst incapacitating Myung-gi from doing it.

‘You’ve changed your tune’ he directed at Thanos, making the most of the last few seconds and vibrating a finger into an unfortunate rib. It was a miracle nobody in the vehicle developed instant tinnitus from the shriek it elicited. ‘Didn’t seem to mind me tickling him to sleep a few minutes ago’

‘That was outta convenience. Don’t be riskin’ my car for the fun of it. Shit ain’t cheap, yo’

‘Saved by the bell, huh, MG coin?’ He stilled his fingers.

As quick as Myung-gi had started laughing, he stopped. On instinct, he heaved in deep breaths and giggled his way through tickly aftershocks, but if anyone asked how he felt he’d reply with ‘absolutely fucking great’.

The drug was making him feel warm, warmer than he’d ever been. He vaguely recalled something about ‘hot baths’ and ‘deep sleeps’, but he was far too busy wondering if his teeth had always been that size.

There was quiet for a while. Nam-gyu was fixing his hair in the window’s reflection, his other arm draped over myung-gi’s shoulders, more to stop him from falling into the footwell than anything. Thanos was tapping a rhythm on the steering wheel, pleased as punch that everything was going to plan.

Myung-gi found it getting harder and harder to stay awake. He knew, for some reason, that he should. There was something incredibly, undoubtedly wrong with where he was and who he was with, but for the life of him he couldn’t put a finger on it.

Wasn’t there also something important he needed to know? Thanos swerved the car gently to avoid a pothole and the memory almost faded. He used the last of his mental strength to try and remember, but quite honestly, he felt so amazing that the idea of something being wrong right now was absurd. Surely, he could worry about it another time, when he’d…

Oh. Right.

 ‘…Wh-where did…mnngh…’

Nam-gyu tilted his head down. He almost laughed out loud at the mess in his lap. Another few minutes and he’d be out.

‘Wassat?’ He enquired exaggeratedly, rising inflection, like talking to a child.

‘Where did y’say…we were goin’…?’

Thanos answered him honestly this time.

‘…we’re goin’ to my place, MG coin. Got a penthouse. Real big place. You’ll be stayin’ there a while’ the highway was smooth and straight and he turned his head briefly to look at the scammer. The scammer did not look back. The scammer was transfixed on Nam-gyu, who was making stupid faces at him. Myung-gi looked delighted at such play, like he’d been kept in a dark room and had never experienced a scrap of stimulation in all his life. ‘Sounds fun, don’t it?’.

Like Nam-gyu, the urge to fuck with Myung-gi was near impossible to ignore. But the disaster in the backseat wasn’t the Myung-gi he knew and despised. There’d be no point, nor fun, in stressing him out in his state. It would be equivalent to explaining taxes to an infant.

‘Hmmngh…hehe…’ Myung-gi just barely registered the words. Nam-gyu was playfully tapping his face in quick succession and it was the most fun he’d ever had. If only his arms could move so he could tap him back.

‘Oi. Coin’ Thanos, eyes now back on the road, demanded his attention. ‘Did y’hear me? I said we’re goin’ back to my place’.

Myung-gi furrowed his brow. That guy? They were going back to that guy’s place?

‘…’

‘Myung-gi!’ Thanos sighed in faux-exasperation. ‘How shit is your tolerance, man? You can’t be this fucked up already’

A ridiculous statement seeing as nine of Nam-gyu’s recommended twenty minutes had passed and Myung-gi very much was this fucked up already.

‘…Y’ur place…?’

Thanos grinned in the dark. Keeping up the ‘be as relatively nice as possible to the man who ruined your life’ act wasn’t anywhere as tedious as he thought it would be. Having Myung-gi, usually so sharp and defensive, acting like a clueless idiot was a nice change. For once, he was the one with the lowest IQ in the room.

‘That’s right. You, me, Nam-su. Pizza parties on Fridays, movie nights on Sundays. Braidin’ each other’s hair, makin’ friendship bracelets. Sounds good, huh?’ Thanos ran his tongue over his teeth, ignoring a road sign he thought he was too good for. ‘Peace and love and all that pansy shit’

The car went over a slight bump and Myung-gi’s head bounced an inch off Nam-gyu’s lap. He giggled in surprise at the sudden movement and Nam-gyu scoffed amusedly, rocking Myung-gi by the shoulder. ‘Wooo! Lookit you go!’.

‘Hmmmhehee… your place…your plaaace’ He drew out the word like he was testing his mouth still worked, narrowing his eyes with a pleased little smile when he realised it very much did.

There was another beat of silence. And then-

‘How’re all three of us gonna fit inside a cardboard box?’

He broke out into a bark of laughter so loud that it shocked even himself. A ‘HA!’ that very quickly turned into pandemonium as he laughed at his own joke so hard he could barely breathe.

Thanos caught Nam-gyu’s eyes in the rearview.

His mouth was twitching as he tried not to smile. He was doing a terrible job.

Nam-gyu covered his own by pretending to scratch his cheek, looking out the window because the sight of Myung-gi wheezing hysterically at something so painfully unfunny would’ve set him off.

The sheer effort it took for them to not laugh was astounding. They couldn’t encourage him- he didn’t deserve that one bit. He wasn’t funny on his own. He’d never in his life been described as ‘funny’. By anyone. The only reason this was funny was because it was so unfunny it circled right back around to being funny again. The only laughter ever present when the three of them were together was for two reasons only:

Him laughing because of them via tickling

Them laughing at him

That was it. That was the only time laughter around the pesky scammer should occur. Never because he was the one to make them laugh.

‘HAHA! HAHAHA! HA -COUGH- Oh my GOD! CARDBOARD BOX!’

Tears streaked down his temples with how hard he was cackling, eyes squeezed shut, mouth in a wide open grin. He was thrilled to bits with himself.

Thanos let out an involuntary snicker and masked it by clearing his throat. ‘Y-yeah, alright, man. I live in a cardboard box. You got me’. On any other day, he’d pummel someone who even dared to imply that any aspect of The Great Thanos was cardboard-box-like. That was akin to blasphemy, in his opinion.

But this wasn’t any other day.

Nam-gyu was laughing silently into the window, shoulders shaking. He didn’t trust himself to speak.

‘A-AHahand- and your hair is…’ Myung-gi stared wide-eyed at the car roof as he tried to find the words, tittering.

Thanos knew he’d regret asking.

‘My hair is what, asshole?’ He was still trying hard not to grin, lips crooked. Myung-gi couldn’t even see him, probably couldn’t see much of anything, but it was the principle that mattered.

‘Y-your- hahaha- your- haHA!’

‘Y’better be about to say somethin’ nice to me, coin’

‘Yohohour h-hair is-’

Nam-gyu exhaled with a very badly stifled laugh and closed his eyes because whatever was about to come out of Myung-gi’s mouth was going to be a fucking spectacle.

‘YOUR HAIR IS FAT!!’ He hollered, loud enough that the police could probably track them from volume alone.

The car filled with Myung-gi’s uproarious guffawing, and if he could control his arms they’d be clutched tight around his middle. It almost hurt to laugh like this. The more he tried to stop, the more hilarious everything became. It was annoyingly infectious.

Nam-gyu burst into sniggering. He hid his face with a hand, the reflex smothered painfully.

Thanos grit his teeth and pushed his tongue to the roof of his mouth in an effort not to break. He could see from the corner of his eye, in the rearview, Nam-gyu’s upper body shaking. He forced himself not to look, because everything is always funnier when your friend is laughing and you know neither of you should be. That damn Nam-su.

‘Great. Real -ahem- real great, MG coin. That all? You done?’ Thanos’ voice strained to keep level.

Myung-gi was nowhere near done. He had a second wind now, the lethargy and bone-deep exhaustion from the pill reversing into giddy, fast paced delirium.

‘FAT HEAD!!’ He bellowed like a child trying to offend their sibling. It was the bottom of the barrel level of humour but he was too far gone to care. He was laughing so hard he was practically hyperventilating. All sorts of nonsense kept trying to break free, only to turn to absolute sludge in the midst of his stitches.

‘Jesus christ…’ Thanos muttered to the steering wheel. The steering wheel was his only friend.

Nam-gyu exhaled a shaky, giggly breath and wiped his eyes. ‘Whew…’ he risked a glance at Myung-gi, who was tossing his head side to side and chanting something about Thanos and his extremely spherical head. Well, that was what he could pick up, anyway. The majority of it was just noise.

‘FATTEST HEAD IN ALL OF KOREA!’

That came through just fine.

‘HAHAHAahaha-aha-AHEHEhehEHE!’

‘He’s gonna pop a lung!’ Nam-gyu exclaimed delightedly. ‘Breathe, MG coin! Stop thinking about Thanos’ fat head!’ He couldn’t help adding fuel to the fire. When would he next get the chance to do this again?

Myung-gi’s laughter went silent. And then a horrible choking noise, because he was on his back and howling too hard to swallow. Where a normal person would try and pull themselves together as to not asphyxiate, Myung-gi had been chemically stripped of all self-preservation instinct. The visual imagery of the three of them huddled in a cardboard box, with Thanos’ stupid fat head, was hilarity incarnate.

‘Hhk-hehe-hhekhk’

‘Breathe!!’ Nam-gyu repeated with all seriousness this time, eyes wide with alarm as he watched the guy convulse below him.

‘The fuck’s he doin’??’ Thanos didn’t like the sudden tone change in his friend’s voice.

‘He’s choking or something!’

‘What?!’

Myung-gi was turning a very concerning colour. He was still laughing. He couldn’t remember how it felt to not be laughing.

‘Pull over!!’

‘I’m not fuckin’ pulling over, boy! Smack his back or somethin’!’’

Nam-gyu grabbed Myung-gi’s shoulders and pushed him upright, pounding an open palm on his back.

‘Use your lungs, asshole!’

Myung-gi remained in spasming, silent laughter for another second before collapsing into coughing, clearing his airways and heaving. Nam-gyu gave him a final, harsh slap between the shoulder blades, panic turning to irritation with the chance of a dead cryptobro significantly decreased.

‘You, The amazing Myung-gi of MG coin’, he exhaled, letting Myung-gi fall back onto his lap, ‘are far more trouble than you’re worth’

‘Hehehehe…heee…hihihi…fahahaaat…’ The shrieking laughter had settled into dizzy snickers and the occasional snort. He was smiling dazedly, his near death experience not having phased him in the slightest.

That’s not to say it hadn’t taken a lot out of him. The second wind had faded and that deep, warm sleepiness hit him like a truck.

‘Ha…aha…woohoho…’

Neither druggie risked making any sudden movement. They stayed as quiet and as boring as they possibly could. Thanos didn’t think he was capable of such a feat but by god he was trying. He was trying harder than he had in red light, green light.

Nam-gyu forced his breathing to come normally. Another few minutes and Myung-gi would be out. They just had to keep things calm and peaceful until then.

Watching him lose his shit was top tier entertainment, but after his little choking stunt he couldn’t be trusted.

‘Hey’

Nobody moved.

‘HEY’

It took all of Nam-gyu’s will to ignore him. All it would take was a single word, something stupid to make the scammer giggle and the free entertainment would come right back. He forced himself to stare ahead. To not rile him up again.

‘Hhheeeeyyy…’

No response.

Myung-gi couldn’t understand why he was being ignored. They were all having fun a minute ago, weren’t they? He remembered laughter and noise and talking. He remembered being engaged with. What had changed?

‘Mmnghhh…talk to meee…’ It came out in a juvenile whine.

The car started swaying.

Thanos had wordlessly begun to swerve the car. Not in the same uncontrollable way as before, when Myung-gi was very much still aware and struggling, but gentle little swoops back and forth in his lane. It was almost elegant.

It didn’t suit him. The whole ‘doing something gently’.

Everything he did was usually packed to the brim with chaos and noise and erraticism, but he could clearly exhibit control when the situation called for it. He was an entirely different person without those mystery drugs he so often took back in the games.

Well. ‘Completely different person’ was a bit of a stretch. He did kidnap a man and watch as his accomplice force-fed him a sedative. He wasn’t even 100% sober- the first thing he’d done when waking up from his own drop-off was to fish a pill out his cross, mercifully still around his neck.

But that was hours ago, the high intense but short-lived, and the chemical buzz had settled into a mere soft glow behind his eyes. It was fine, though. He could deal with it. Even if Myung-gi being off his face in the backseat made him slightly jealous that it wasn’t himself who didn’t have to think, wasn’t himself who could giggle away like an oblivious idiot.

He felt better knowing that Myung-gi had only a few more minutes, if that, of that kind of brainless respite.

The swaying of the car was an intentional ploy to speed the process up. It rocked Myung-gi ever so slightly in Nam-gyu’s lap. He was being careful not to sway too hard lest the scammer get giddy again and fight the pill harder. Just small, barely there motions to soothe his exhausted body into sleep.

It was working, too. Even Nam-gyu was looking tired now, like Myung-gi had been the one setting the tone, and now that he was quiet and docile the atmosphere had changed to match.

Hell, Thanos himself was exhausted. He wasn’t invincible. Neither of the three men had had a good night’s sleep in months. Neither had had a peaceful day or more than an hour not worrying about money in the bank since the scam hit.

They’d all experienced high stress, Myung-gi was just the only one to show it. The other two had masked any tension or negative feelings with those pills- but now there was no fear of death games, or masked guards with guns, or fighting for their lives. No shouting or hysterics or nonsense about Disneyland and fat heads.

The rapper nodded to get Nam-gyu’s attention. He spoke quietly. ‘Hey’.

‘Hey’ Nam-gyu returned the soft tone.

Thanos jutted his chin. ‘He out?’

Nam-gyu looked down lazily. Myung-gi was very still and his eyes were closed. The junkie jostled him, then used a thumb to rub his cheek. ‘Hey. Hey, scammer’.

No response.

‘Yeah, dude. He’s dead to the world’

‘Whew. Man…I am exhausted, Nam-su’ Thanos scrubbed a hand over his face and sniffed, blinking hard.

‘Yeah. This little bitch is hard work’

‘Mm. Thinkin’ he’s funny’

‘Should’ve used chloroform or something’

‘Ha, yeah. Maybe. Didn’t wanna risk killin’ the guy. Ain’t no fun if he’s dead’ Thanos tapped his temple. ‘besides. I got big plans for him’.

‘You mean keeping him as a human stress ball?’ Nam-gyu fiddled with a ring. ‘Or the pizza parties?’

‘Dunno if there’ll be room for parties in my cardboard box’

They both laughed before realising it was a joke that originated from the scammer and suddenly it wasn’t funny anymore.

Well, maybe a bit.

Far in the distance, perched on the side of the road, was the neon lights of a Lotteria.

‘Aw, man. I’d kill for a Lotteria right now’ Nam-gyu watched as they got closer and closer, the thought of crappy burgers and fries taunting him.

‘Reckon we get him some coleslaw?’

‘He’d probably try to scam it’

‘Lotteria?’ A third, unwelcome voice chimed in.

‘Agh!’ Nam-gyu pushed himself against the seat and looked down at the delirious Myung-gi. ‘The hell!’

‘Dude! Thought you said he was out?’

‘He was’ hissed the reply. A finger pointed inches from Myung-gi’s face. ‘Oi. You’re supposed to be in dreamland, MG coin’

‘Lotteria’ Was the only reply. It was a miracle Myung-gi was still conscious.

‘Lying little cheats don’t get Lotteria’

‘…I can have Lotteria…as a- a treat’

‘You get tickled until you cry, that’s what you get’ Nam-gyu flicked Myung-gi on the forehead. ‘There. That’s your treat. Enjoy’

‘…fry’ His voice came tiny and he giggled drunkenly. ‘One fry meal… fry for meeeee’

‘Shuuuush. Sleepytime for the scammer’

A hand went over his eyes.