Chapter Text
Choi Su-Bong. The name of someone he hasn’t been in years. Not since his mother kicked him out of the house. Not since he grew into the persona Thanos, the cocky and self assured rapper. It had once given him everything—fame, power, adoration—but none of it had really mattered. It trapped him in a life that didn’t even feel like his anymore. The world won’t remember Choi Su-Bong. No, they’ll remember Thanos. They’ll remember him being seemingly untouchable and buzzed every second of everyday.
Thanos gripped into the metal railing tightly. Tears threatened to fall, his breath hitching. He wondered if anyone would mourn him. Maybe his mother would cry, but would it be out of regret, or just sorrow that he had turned out so wrong? His ‘friends’ would move onto the next big persona in the club scene without a care. No one had reached out to him since he stopped visiting Club Pentagon, no longer having the funds to splurge in the VIP section.
For a long moment, Thanos stares down into the rushing water. He sees a bottle floating down in the river, current pushing it underneath. He feels a weird kinship with the bottle, drowning in debt and despair. Pushed back under any time he had a chance to breathe.
He watches the bottle, swallowed by the water, and thinks about how easy it would be to give in to the current. To let the world forget about Choi Su-Bong and keep the myth of Thanos alive. Soon enough he’d be down there, floating away with the rest of the world’s garbage. He steels his nerves and is about to climb over the railing when he hears a voice call out to him.
“Excuse me sir.”
Thanos takes a deep breath and turns around glaring at the stranger. Couldn’t this person see he was busy?
“Would you like to play a game with me?” The man asked with a huge smile.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” He snapped, looking the man up and down. He seemed too put together to be a crazy person. The man slowly lowered his suitcase on the railing, clicking it open to reveal the pieces of Ddakji and stacks of won.
“I assume you’ve played Ddakji before right?” the man said, his smile widening just a little. “Play a few games with me. Each time you win I’ll give you a 100,000 won.”
“And if lose? What’s the catch old man?” Thanos asked incredulously. He knew everything had a catch, especially when money is involved.
“If you lose you’ll pay me 100,000 won.”
“Yeah, I’ll pass.” Thanos scoffed. He already had enough debt piling up, thank you very much.
“You could also pay with your body. Each time you lose I’ll slap you in the face.”
Thanos considered the man for a moment. He had nothing to lose, so he agreed to play. He hit his vape quickly, trying to focus and clear his mind. He lost for the first few games, he finally succeeded on his last throw. The man handed him
100,000 won. While Thanos was busy counting, sue him the man was shady,
the man pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it over.
“Call this number if you’d like to play more games.” The man said before turning and walking off. Thanos blinked. This had to be the weirdest night of his life. Thanos looked down at the card, three black shapes lined one side, a phone number on the other side.
Something about this whole situation struck him with a force he couldn’t quite explain. It was as if this opportunity had been meant for him, as if it had been waiting for him in this exact moment. Now Thanos didn’t believe in any religion but this felt like fate. Like a form of divine intervention.
Thanos felt something stir within him that for once wasn’t dread or self-loathing. It was a flicker of hope. With a deep breath, Thanos looked down at the card once more. He pulls his phone out and called the number.