Chapter 1: Mangled
Chapter Text
Nam-gyu won, he wanted to during the games—but now that he did, he hated it. He lost everyone, he lost Thanos. He made it to the finals with Thanos, they were supposed to win together. But, for some weird reason, Thanos sacrificed himself for Nam-gyu to win. Nam-gyu expected to be betrayed, but not in that way.
He thought he'd be happy if he won, but now he just feels worse. Thanos was gone, Nam-gyu was still here.
Nam-gyu sat in his messy apartment. Cheap, with a lingering smell of cigarettes and weed. The golden card laid beside him as he stared at the wall. He looked down at the necklace gripped in his hand, the grey cross that Thanos once owned. He tightened his grip until the edges dug into his skin, releasing it with a sigh.
He stood up and slid the necklace on. He was wearing clothes given to him when he was dropped off, he had to change. It just reminded him of Thanos, everything reminded him of Thanos. The cold metal bit at his skin. He searched his closet, before grabbing a black t-shirt with a graphic design of wings on them. It was some cheap one he found at a store, the fabric was cheap and it had a smell on it that wouldn't leave.
Alongside the shirt, he put on black cargo pants. The necklace stayed on, centered in the middle of his shirt. He still couldn't believe he won, the fact that he was rich—but was he really? He had no one left. Thanos was all he had in and before the games. Sure, he had his club—but he didn't really know anyone there. He didn't know any patrons, his workers, anyone. All he knew was Thanos, that was the only one he truly knew. Now he is gone.
What was he doing? Mourning like a whiny prick. He hated Thanos, he always called him Namsu. A constant namecalling. Namsu, Namsu, Namsu, Namsu. He hated him. Right? He was annoyed, obnoxious, and Nam-gyu just wanted him for the drugs. That's what he told himself.
However, despite his supposed hatred, he kept the empty cross on. It smelled like Thanos, it reminded him of Thanos. Everything reminded him of Thanos.
Nam-gyu looked at his messy apartment, untouched for a week. Everything was covered in dust. A grim reminder of the time he spent at those games. The drug use, the deaths, Thanos’ eventual death.
He clenched his teeth until there was a burn in his jaw, he averted his gaze from the red powder and looked at the ground. How he wished he could've split the winnings with him, the way they planned.
Adjusting his T-shirt and necklace, Nam-gyu walked out of his apartment. He didn't bother to lock the door, he never really cared. He didn't have anything worth stealing, if someone found something—he'd probably congratulate the thief for their creativity.
He walked down the eerie stairs—which needed to be fixed, but the maintenance team never got on it. The walls were stained with water and other unnamed liquids, the railing would wobble when you touched it, and there was an earthy smell the entire way down. It was four flights of stairs, and then a shorter one from the exit.
The outside was humid. The warm air touched his wounded skin. Scars lay across his arm from various cases, and track marks were so heavy on his inner elbow you could barely distinct the vein. He shook his t-shirt to get an air flow, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the gold debit card. His fingers clenched around the edges, and he let out a hiss through his teeth.
Pushing the card back into his pocket, Nam-gyu reluctantly walked down the sidewalk to get downtown. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to use the money, it felt kind of wrong to use the money he had planned to split with Thanos. Although, it could really help.
Heading towards the nearest ATM, Nam-gyu slid in the card and pressed in the number ‘124’ into the pad, trying to think of how much to withdraw. Eventually, he decided only to take out ₩250,000. Pushing the money into his pocket, he went towards Club Pentagon.
Arriving, Nam-gyu ordered a small drink—he wasn't technically on duty for a few more minutes, so if he was able to get the drink down before then, he wouldn't break any rules. As if he ever followed them, anyway.
Nam-gyu chugged the drink. During his relaxed time, he got asked multiple times where he had been over the week. He always gave a different excuse, he wasn't insecure about not being believed, he just didn't want pity.
Pushing the empty glass towards the front, he slid off the seat and went towards the club manager's office.
He put down the few items he owned, he looked in the mirror. Clicking his tongue against his teeth, he tried to think on how to make himself look better.
For a moment, he pushed his hair behind his ears. After staring for a few seconds, he quickly pulled it back out. It reminded him of how he looked during the games, he always wore his hair tucked around Thanos. After adding some smudged eyeliner and ruffling his hair, he left his office.
His ears tensed when the loud music wrapped around his eardrums. After a few seconds, he adjusted. Swerving around the loud crowd of people, he found one of his workers.
“Jiwoo, can you make sure all the private rooms are empty? None of them should be rented out. And check on the bouncer.”
He commanded, and before the stammering person could ask where he had been, he walked off and sighed. He was getting a bit tense at the flavor of withdrawal, he hadn't had drugs in his system for a couple of days.
Nam-gyu ordered another drink from the bartender—a stronger one, despite him being on the clock now. As he waited, a few girls tried to hit on him but he pushed them off. It felt like a betrayal to Thanos, despite nothing happening between them. They were just friends, or he believed so.
As he leaned on the counter, his eye caught sight of something immediately. Purple hair, spiked and slightly faded. It was… identical to how Thanos’ hair looked.
He straightened his posture, his eyes widened, he didn't know what to think. His jaw remained agape, was it really him? No, he watched Thanos fall off the platform. He watched him die. Maybe he somehow survived?
He abandoned the counter right as the bartender served his drink, pushing through the crowds with more urgency now. He even pushed over a few patrons, who tried to yell in anger—but they were too late to stop him.
He approached the purple haired man from behind, grabbing his shoulder to get his attention…
Chapter 2: Second Chance
Summary:
It's so wrong to accept this copycat of Thanos, but Nam-gyu just wants to see him one more time. He can pretend as long as he wants.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Nam-gyu's teeth clenched together, he could feel his heartbeat. It felt like it was going to push past his skin. He swallowed, looking the taller man up and down, over and over again.
“I.. uh… kind of. Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you..” Nam-gyu couldn't pull his gaze off the man, this copycat of a dead man. It made his stomach churn, and his palms sweaty.
“It's no problem, man. Hah, if anything I seem to have bothered you.” The strange man gestured to Nam-gyu's body language; the sweating, his breathing, and every way he moved.
God, he even spoke like Thanos. What a cruel joke. Taking a step back, Nam-gyu rubbed the back of his neck. He felt each hair and the beads of sweat, he could vividly remember Thanos’ death—his stupid sacrifice, his betrayal. He wanted to shove the man out of the club, yell at him. He knew he had no righteous reason too, but he didn't really care.
With a sharp movement of his hand, Nam-gyu poked a finger at the man's chest. “You need to leave the club… uh.. right now.”
The purple haired mimic seemed confused, rightfully so. He put his hands up in defense. “Woah there, what did I do? I've just been dancing. What kinda club doesn't allow dancing?”
Nam-gyu closed his fists and pulled his extended one down to his side, clenching his teeth until he felt a sharp pain run through his jaw. What should he say? What should he do? Come up with a good reason for the man to leave?
His harsh thoughts came to an end when the man placed a hand on his shoulder, a grin on his face. He was surely kinder than Thanos, or, it seems that way. Nam-gyu tried to focus on the differences between the man and the dead, instead of the similarities.
“Hey, dude, why are you so tense? I can buy you a drink, or even give you something stronger.” The man shrugged, the baggy shirt he wore nearly fell off his shoulders. Even his body motions were similar to Thanos, fuck.
The silence lasted a beat, before Nam-gyu pulled his shoulder away and grabbed the cross necklace, holding it in his hand as he felt the metal edges dig into his flesh. He couldn't turn down an offer like that, but it felt cruel to do something like this when the real Thanos is dead. “...Fine.”
The fake grinned, “I'm Sanho. Kind of funny, that name you said earlier sounds like mine.”
“Don't say that.” Nam-gyu got defensive, before trying to relax, following Sanho over to the bar.
Sanho noticed the defensive nature but he tried to ignore it, ordering two of the same drinks. He didn't check what Nam-gyu wanted, Thanos used to do that, he'd just decide what Nam-gyu wanted. He slid the drink over to Nam-gyu. It was pink, with a few bubbles still clinging to the glass. It tasted similar to what Thanos used to order, but there was a certain bitterness Nam-gyu didn't recognize.
Nam-gyu reluctantly sat down next to Sanho. His gaze looked at the purple hair—the way the dye shined in the light. A vibrant color, cruelly representing the one He wore. “So, Thanos, what.. brings you to this club?” He asked with an averted gaze, stirring his drink.
“It's Sanho, sorry.” An apology, how unlike Him. “I was just visiting Seoul, so I decided to drop by here. I had heard a lot about it online.” He shrugged, taking a large sip of the drink.
Nam-gyu wished this man was Thanos, despite the stupid betrayal he committed in the very end. He had so much to say—to do—to Thanos. It felt so wrong to talk to this mimic, but it felt so right to have someone like Thanos.
Nam-gyu stared at the drink. The same fizz. The same damn shade of pink. He remembered Thanos ordering it on his second day here, saying it reminded him of cherry blossoms. It was a weird moment of intimacy he saw in Thanos. It was one time, and ended up as the last time.
The way Sanho looked at him when he spoke reminded him of Thanos’ final look. The look before he jumped off the platform, leaving Nam-gyu with this cruel 4.56 billion won. “Thanos—”
“Sanho.”
“Right. Anyway, why are you in Seoul? Are you staying long?” Nam-gyu asked, he hadn't even introduced himself yet. “I'm Nam-gyu, by the way..”
Nam-gyu was picking at the flaws in his hand as he spoke, avoiding looking at the man. Just the sight of him made him feel sick, it reminded him of Thanos. Why did he even mourn Thanos? That annoying prick. Always mocking him, always calling him ‘Namsu.’
“Oh, I'm just here for tourism… I have no good reason.” He laughed slightly. Even his laugh mocked Thanos. It made Nam-gyu irritated. It felt weird bouncing back from emotions of grief to anger, he couldn't pick one.
“Oh,” For some reason, Nam-gyu was expecting a better reason. He didn't know why.
Nam-gyu suddenly stood up, pushing his soles into the ground and turning to face the ugly face that was painted like the man he regretfully missed.
Notes:
"Sanho" is pronounced similar to "Thanos"