“okay. i won’t forget.” remi looks properly chastised, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “sorry, again.” he listens to sungho’s explanation, if you could call it that, of why he’s so secretive, fidgeting with one of his bracelets just to keep his hands occupied, tugging one of the chunkier beads out and letting it snap against his wrist.

what a bleak outlook on life. remi has firsthand experience with being used for another’s gain - it’s the whole reason he was in korea, after all - and yet… sungho seems like so much more of a pessimist, by comparison. “don’t you get tired?” it kinda slips out, not really meaning to start anything with the other. “like… i’m not planning on staying here forever either, but…” he shrugs a little bit. “it seems like it would be exhausting to think that everyone’s always out to get you, i don’t know.”

remi has a lot of friends on the island, most just that passing sort of friendship he doesn’t expect to last, but that’s okay. he can’t imagine blocking himself off from the world like this, no matter how jaded he got. “i’m not trying to tell you that you’re wrong or anything. i really don’t wanna fight about this, honestly. just… i don’t know. it’s cliché to say that you can trust me, especially since we barely know each other, but i don’t have any ulterior motives about wanting to get to know you. most people around here don’t. some of ‘em, yeah, sure. but most of us are just trying to do our own shit.”

it’s silent for a moment as remi tries to think, to plan out what steps he would have to take in order to go out of town with sungho. he doesn’t even know how far away the capital is from here, how long of a drive it would be. his truck’s not exactly great, he still has to- oh, shit. making a surprised noise as his bracelet snaps, dumping beads onto his lap, remi curses under his breath. “my bad. thinking too hard, i guess. i’ll look into it later though, see if we can make it happen. gotta do a little research about it, ’s all.” having collected all the beads, remi leans over, dumping them into the ashtray on the nearby coffee table to deal with later. that’s a problem for future remi. “did you want to do something today, still, or..?”

Sungho just sat there listening to the other. Yes, he was annoyed that Remi wasn't considering why. Not that he would have any idea about that, but in that moment, the familiar feeling of being misunderstood was front and center. His distance was part of his norm, especially when his behavior in high school escalated. That made him an outcast, as he didn't keep the harmony. He pushed the limit not out of pure rebellion but because of the pressure. Doing the same thing as his peers made him feel more invisible than he already was. Everything revolved around status and bragging rights. Doing the exact opposite gave him freedom because the expectations shifted from meeting high demands to just staying out of trouble.

With Remi's last words, that meant the trip wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Damn, he was looking forward to getting away from everything that was going on. Sungho had already settled on lying that he was visiting the island instead of admitting where he lived. There was too much going on that it was exhausting.

Year: 20XX

Location: Seoul

Looking out at the pedestrians below, Sungho's gaze is fixed on them.  "Ants, they all look like ants," he thinks as he steps away with an unamazed sigh. He's approaching 50 now but could pass for early 30s. An advantage, more so in today's world. Retirement was on the horizon, but he was still on the grind to stay busy. The idea of a family was long gone, he had made due with his steady partner.

Sunhgo put his career first, which, though some may not agree with it, was his choice. Being VP of compliance and regulations carried a lot of weight and power. Other businesses had to adhere or face fines and penalties. Sungho was cutthroat, drawing much ire but also upholding an industry standard. Now he had almost encyclopedic knowledge of law, business, and human resources; he was a living book able to consult on these matters. Though he preferred to audit since it dealt less with legal matters or being accused of having a conflict of interest.

"Sir, the meeting will start soon,"

"i hope they're prepared this time," he replied, checking over the folder. There was more he could say, but he didn't. More so now that he was doing away with that roundabout speech. Sungho was softer with his partner, they were part of his personal world, not the one of business. He clicked the pen in his hand, a habit he formed long ago. The rumor was that it was for show, being made of gold, and it really didn't work.

______________________

The meeting lasted for 4 hours, a chore to get through. The company representatives wanted to block a merger from going through, but through legal means, there was little chance of them stopping it. Sungho was annoyed at the previous meeting since they had no plan to consider the worst, business was about feelings. At the very least, the company could admit that it would gain leverage from the merger to increase its own intellectual property. He advised that they have some members on the board with equal power so that even with layoffs, they wouldn't be totally shut out. There was a follow up meeting later that week to finalize their proposal, which gave off time to comb through it for any loopholes.

The documents were in a closed folder on his desk. Sungho was burnt out already, having tried to work on it, passing the time playing with the gold pen. He toyed with the idea of retiring early, but then what he do? He could be a university lecturer with more than enough experience, but he's been down that road. Consulting? He was an introvert at heart. He looked at his schedule, seeing a round of less intense meetings. He honestly wanted to go home, but work must be done. The knock at the door made him prop up and appear like he was busy before his assistant appeared.

"Sir, you have a call on line 3," they informed him.

His eyes narrowed for a moment, seeing the subtle nervous energy of his assistant, "Thank you," he replied as he picked up the phone as they left. What was this about? He didn't speak first, putting the pressure on.

god had to humble him somehow, and since making him 5'4 and from fucking massachusetts hadn’t worked, giving him something to be insecure about was the next best thing, surely. it wasn’t even his fault, what had happened, he was just the only one left to tell the fucking tale about it. and honestly, even if he wasn’t able to cash in on pretty privilege anymore, remi was still doing pretty damn good. he’d said sungho was the first person in his room in a while, but he wasn’t the first person in remi’s room ever. far from it, in fact.

sungho is actually interesting, though, more than most of the people that attend their school, and definitely more than most of the people remi’s brought back before. those people… they like that remi’s foreign, that he’s new. he talks funny, talks loud, is different. it’s almost too easy. sungho doesn’t give a shit about any of that. he doesn’t give a shit about remi, doesn’t give a shit if he’s funny, if he’s flirtatious, and honestly, that’s what makes him so appealing.

“i mean…” try not to get arrested. try not to get sent to fucking prison. god, which prison would they even send him to? he can’t imagine they’d send a little twink like him to men’s prison, especially given his whole… situation, but- fuck, dude, focus.

“i wanna become an engineer. build cool tech, stuff that helps people, makes the world more accessible. not around here, obviously. maybe in seoul or something.” tucking his knees to his chest, remi hugs them, resting his chin on top of the hole in his jeans. “you have to be good, engineering’s a really competitive field. i can’t fuck around, y'know? i already took some time off school, so i’m already behind. that’s why i’m doing the dual major.” this was his first year back, since… well, making him a second year student at the ripe age of 23.

“why do you look so surprised?” he laughs, grateful to not have to talk about the future anymore. “i barely know anything about you. just stuff i’ve heard from other people, mostly. and whatever i’ve weedled out of you at school. mysterious is almost too light a word. more like enigma.”

as the other stares him down, remi stares at his bedspread, unable to meet sungho’s eyes. he’d thought the other knew. like, c'mon, pot brownies? that’s the most cliche thing he’s ever heard. “c'mon, don’t- don’t look at me like that. i would’ve told you if you’d wanted some. i also kinda figured you knew? since you said that shit about me losing it…” he trails off, shame making his ears feel hot. clearing his throat, he makes an effort to properly apologise, letting his knees fall and turning towards sungho more fully. “i’m sorry. i swear i- i would’ve said something, i wasn’t just gonna like, drug you, that’d be fucked up as hell.”

he must not have upset sungho all that bad, however, seeing as the man’s still willing to go somewhere with him. the capital… that’s kinda far away, isn’t it? and sungho wants to go? with him? “wherever you want.” it’s soft, softer than he planned. embarrassing ass- oh my god. “that’s kinda like, an all-day deal though, isn’t it?” it’s not a no, however.

”i don’t know how to respond to that in a way that doesn’t hurt my chances of seeing you again, so i’m just gonna take the l and shut my mouth.“ better to be honest about that, at least. they’re both guys in their 20’s, which is… literally marvel’s target audience, but he doesn’t have to be all that bright to realise it’s not a label sungho wants. plus, for as pretty as sungho is, he kinda reads more like a weeb, if remi’s honest. like if they’d gone over to sungho’s instead, remi might unearth a waifu pillow or spot some wrapped manga. maybe a figurine or twelve, if he was deep into it.

try not to go extreme and try to take down the government. well…

remington clifford, wanted by the fbi for questioning in regards to an eco-terrorism group based out of cambridge. the dandelion tattooed on his hip has never felt more like a brand.

he laughs, hoping it doesn’t sound too fake. ”right, yeah. i mean, the computers are for work. place like this doesn’t pay for itself.“ his parents send him money sometimes, sure, but it’s kind of sporadiac, as they don’t want to clue the literal fucking fbi into where remi’s staying. for all they treated him like a show pony and a social experiment sometimes, they’re at least good for that. ”i won’t bore you with the details or anything, because like… it really is boring, even to computer guys. but yeah, ah, no hacking here, no worries!“

fuck, dude, could you be anymore awkward? he blames the brownie, honestly. maybe sungho was right about him losing it.

”okay, first of all, her ballerina friend was way hotter, make no fuckin’ mistake about that one. and second, didn’t they like, shun him down into the basement in the first place for being all fucked-up looking?“ he’d only seen the movie like once, at least that he can recall. not his favourite musical, always more of a rent person, which he supposes should be obvious, considering his whole… him. gesturing vaguely towards his own face, which there is no way on god’s green earth that sungho hasn’t noticed, but he’s sweet to pretend. it’s pretty short-lived, however, as remi abruptly decides he doesn’t want to hear whatever it is sungho might have to say about it, if he stops pretending. ”actually, nevermind.“

sitting up, remi glances over at the tv, watching as nana and hachi go shopping for those damn strawberry glasses. ”not in a bit, no. i’ve been before, to like check it out, or whatever, but engineering exams fucking suck, dude. i’ve been holed up in here for weeks working on my stupid final project.“ he puffs out his cheeks in annoyance, hugging his knees to his chest. ”you should be grateful, you know. you’re the first person i’ve had over since i started really working on it.“ there’s a light teasing tone to his voice, greasy on purpose.

they’d been here almost the same amount of time. that’s fun. no wonder their paths didn’t really cross, with sungho trying to keep a low profile, and remi having to take a solid year and a half after his arrival to figure out how the fuck to speak korean enough to survive. ”mm, maybe. maybe i’m bored with my small-town life, and i need some beautiful, mysterious city boy to whisk me off my feet, make me feel alive.“ he pushes at sungho with a laugh whenever the other teases him right back, giving as good as he gets. ”shut up, i told you they’re for work! don’t be a brat.“

leaning over to where he had left his own soda, remi pops it open, leaning back on one hand to face sungho. ”we can go out somewhere if you really want, y'know. i’m not like, some hermit who shrivels up under the light of day. i just… i don’t know, man.“ he shrugs a little bit. ”every time i see you, there’s always a fuckton of other people around, y'know? like the library, the caf, whatever…“ not to mention, sungho wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. part being selfish and wanting sungho’s undivided attention, part not wanting to give the man a chance to run away before remi can make his move, even if it’s only friendship that he moves towards. ”it’s stupid, nevermind. i’m high, don’t listen to me.“ he shakes his head, taking another sip before setting his drink aside. ”did you wanna go out somewhere, then? i can drive, we don’t have to walk.“

Sungho had noticed Remi's scars but had enough sense to not say anything about them. He may have tried to hide it, but his self-esteem wasn't the highest, so why even bring attention to a sensitive topic? Life was difficult already, but add pretty privilege, insane expectations, and classism to the mix, and even already attractive people were going to struggle with such a beauty standard. Sungho may have fared better, but his attitude was such a turn-off. An example of deceiving looks because his smartass mouth, better than you aura, variety of mental health issues, and general indifference were masked by his celebrity-like face. Remi was the exact opposite of everything he knew, and yet there they were together in a room. without trying to kill each other.

"What's your plan after college? You're giving up a lot for a grade. Life is more than that." Was there bias like that? Sungho did come for the upper middle class, so even with high expectations, there was a sense of leisure and pleasure that was the real foundation of life. "Me? mysterious?" He was surprised that the word was used to describe him. "Anyway, the east side can be lively if you want that kind of life." Hearing the word brat was closer to the truth than mysterious, which was causing him to laugh. "I'm around people out of necessity, not because I enjoy it. My major, unofficially, is networking and making connections. That can be the difference between making a deal or not." He was being honest but managed to tact some other information on so he wasn't too vulnerable.

“I did’t come here to have fun, I came here to win”

Sports Day Results

with the massage parlour all but closed for the festivities - it was open, sure, but lock didn’t have any appointments, everyone rightly deciding that it was a bad time to get a massage - he’d been left to find other means to keep himself entertained throughout the week, and what better way than to try to earn a little bit of easy money?

the booth was provided by the city, so all lock had to do was bring a few things to spruce it up. some nice fabric, a few stones, and voila! a convenient little base to use to people watch, gossiping with the woman in the next stall over, a merfolk a little older than lock selling sea glass. he’d even already bought a cute bracelet from her, pretty pleased with how the blue looked contrasted against the tattoo on his forearm.

in fact, he’s sitting at her booth with her, casually eating ice cream as the two watch a cute human running a nearby booth as he passes out samples of something, whenever someone approaches lock’s little display, attracting his attention. “mm, ’s closed, sorry." 

the man pays him no mind. alright, rude!

should’ve figured as much, dude’s all… gray. nothing good can come from someone like that. rising from the table, lock rounds the booth to the other side, intent on steering the man away before he can foul up the whole place with his weird funk, only to get stopped by quite possibly the dirtiest look someone’s probably ever given him, for literally no fucking reason.

scoffing, lock doesn’t even bother dignifying him with an acknowledgement, turning back to scoop his ice cream up so he can reclaim his seat behind the booth, leaning back in his chair with legs braced against the table, waiting for the man to fuck off.

Whatever reservation his Moother had about the island she really didn’t express it, but he was seeing it now. Even in the peace there was this feeling of tension hoowever Sunghoo managed to avoid all of it. A life skill to just blend into the background; be passive, unassuming. That saved him alot of agony and attention most of the time. He literally controted (with grace) around the lazers of political trife like an expect spy. Most of his time was taken up by school and work, so what free time he did have it was not spent in taking sides.