@120played sent: « “Do you wanna talk about this, or be distracted, or left alone?” » Cho Hyun-ju to Kim Jun-hee
Like moths to flame. Jun-hee stared blankly up at the metal frame of the bunk above hers, hand on stomach and thumb tracing soothing patterns along its swell. All she could think about was the prize money. The piggy bank glowing golden as Won fell like heavy snow into it, piles and piles forcing her to imagine greedy, petite hands holding it all and walking out with it. The amount dispensed wasn’t nearly enough to completely cover the debt she’d accumulated, not the amount she’d lost because she’d trusted her ex Myung-gi to buy coin she couldn’t afford like everyone else… but it’d be a great start. A chance to try to get her life together for the future of her child.
Because now she had someone depending on her.
Maybe that thought was more terrifying than the possibility of dying in these unknown games. A fight she could control, see how strong her survival instincts were… but it wasn’t just her anymore. Already the stress was getting to Jun-hee since during the first game, ducking behind someone and using them basically as a shield to prevent the robot doll seeing movement while she was trying to fight her body from writing in pain. Jun-hee, who was so used to not having anyone to rely on and stubborn about refusing help when offered, had relied on someone else after all.
It begged the question — if she hadn’t gotten swept up in Myung-gi, if she wasn’t pregnant… would she decide to stay and continue to play?
‘Do you wanna talk about this, or be distracted, or left alone?’
Jun-hee glanced over at the bed beside hers, following the soft whisper and meeting concerned eyes in the dim, amber light fixated on her. “Was I thinking out loud?” Asked in the form of an apology, Jun-hee weighed the options offered, a touch surprised there was kindness in a bloodthirsty place like this one. “I don’t want to be left alone.” The easiest one. Alone for so long, and more scared than she’d ever been… Jun-hee just wanted someone to talk to, someone to understand. And after watching Player 120 help 456 carry an injured player when they’d both already crossed the finish line during Red Light, Green Light, Hyun-ju seemed the sort of person genuinely willing to help. “Isn’t talking kind of distracting?” A loose smile tugged on the corner of her lips. “You’re doing a good job already.”
