One of Us || Kang Sae-Byeok.

∆ Chapter Two ∆

┍━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━┑

“Losing is essential to anyone's success. The more you lose, the more you desire to win.”

┕━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━┙

THURSDAY - THU
11:53 PM.

Your eyes moved slowly from left to right, eying your choices. “Red,” you said plainly, the colour of the folded tile could matter less to you.

His features had shifted to a more twisted one, as if he were mocking you. But you paid him no mind. 

The man's humble expression was no more. “Are you sure?” He smirked, his intense glare not faltering. “Positive,” you stated, pursing your lips.

He let out a small sigh in defeat, a chuckle escaped his lips right after. The salesman stood up, holding the red folded paper tile in his hand. 

He extended it towards you, as if it were an invitation to begin playing the game. You understood the gesture and got on your feet, taking the red paper from his hands.

“I didn't get your name,” you huffed, tearing off the loose string that dangled outside your sweater's pocket and tossed it onto the ground. He tilted his head down slightly, seeing as you weren't too much shorter than him. 

“I'm afraid that'll have to remain disclosed,” he murmured. You only hummed in response.

~*~

Friction gathered as you rubbed your hands together with the paper tile between your palms. You fixed your stance, your dominant hand was pulled behind your head.

The leg opposite to the hand that held the folded paper was pulled back as well. The form was almost as if you were pitching a baseball.

You then, with all your strength, slammed the red tile above the blue one, a grunt breaking free. Although, you were met with disappointment.

The folded blue paper didn't even move an inch, and just made contact with the floor. Involuntarily, you remembered how you weren't the best at the game.

Memories of playing ddjaki during your childhood came flooding in. For they were only filled with rage and frustration.

Specifically, you were screwed.

The salesman crouched down, grabbing his coloured tile. Your eyes met his, giving you this ‘let me show you how it's done’ look before throwing down the blue folded card with a grave force.

The magnitude of his throw flipped your tile over with such ease. You stepped back at the loud impact, eyes widening and your mouth slightly agape, it surprised you.

He re-focused his gaze on you, as if he were expecting a prize. 

“Although, if I can flip yours, you must give me the same amount of money back.”

His previous words rang throughout your head like an empty melody. Right– the money, you could feel yourself getting lightheaded. 

“Is something the matter?” He asked, you refused to look him in the eye.

“You see… the thing is…” you mumbled, stumbling on your words. “How about you use your body to pay?” 

He cut you off, you snapped your head up, startled by his remark. You swore your heart skipped a beat there.

It seemed as if the air you were once breathing became toxic. Each inhale made your lungs come closer to caving in.

“My… body…? What the heck do you mean–” you started, your sentence being cut short by a burning sensation in your left cheek. You clenched it in your palm immediately and rubbed it softly.

“What the hell was that for?!” You yelled, “I'll take 100 grand off per slap,” the salesman beamed.

Quickly, you bent down and grabbed the red folded tile once more, holding it out towards him. You smirked, determined to be victorious.

“One more round!”

–Moonpi