Breaking Ice || Squid Game Front Man

Chapter Two: Sweet As Honey

A SINGLE GUNSHOT FIRED INTO THE ROOM, RINGING THROUGHOUT. Nari's ears ached at the sound; she had heard more gunfire in that single day than she had in her entire life. Outside the sound had room to travel, unlike in the player room. There, it was forced to bounce off the walls endlessly until it eventually faded away, leave damage in its wake. Her head was already hurting before the gunfire from the other plays screaming at and threatening the guards, Nari and Player 232 standing close together toward the front as they did. She felt screaming at the ones in charge — and the ones with weapons — was pointless.

Beside her, Player 232's arm would brush against her own every now and then. In a way, it reassured her that she wasn't alone. He, too, was silent in the commotion. Though, the room had settled after the gunfire. All the players that were once screaming were now cowering in fear, staring with wide eyes at the guards. The guards explained the rules once more; they must be tired of repeating themselves. Nari looked next to her as they did, watching the elderly man as he listened.

She was grateful to of found him in the Hell they were in, viewing him as a form of light. Maybe befriending someone in a situation like this wasn't bright, but Nari felt otherwise. Player 232 would be her support as she'd be his, and she refused to look at the what-ifs.

Sensing her stare, he looked at her with a soft smile. She stared at it a moment. At least he's okay. She offered him a smile back before looking ahead. A chubby player with the number 10 on his back stepped closer to the stage, his hand raised in a point. "Didn't rule three say the games could be terminated if majority agrees?!" The guard nodded, explaining they could cast a vote. "Yeah! We want to vote!" In the crowd, other players cheered for the idea. Oddly enough, a handful of some players disagreed and said they didn't need to vote and wanted the games to continue.

As the players bickered, Nari watched the guards step out and return minutes later with a podium. Players were ordered to stand on one side of the room and come up, one by one, to place their vote. 83 players went before Nari, with 53 of them voting yes. She stepped up to the white podium, looking down at a red X and green O button. Her eyes flickered between the two, unsure of which decision to make. When her hand lifted to the red one, she hesitated.

Should I? She was taking too long; someone behind her cleared their throat. But her decision wasn't an easy one to make — no, not at all. To stay and chance winning while risking her life, or to leave empty handed back into a world that had already been scraping her hands raw? Nari knew very well to not complain about her life, but, in that moment again, she hated the cards she had been dealt. It wasn't fair; it wasn't fair she was risking death to stay alive in some competition because it beat staying alive to die at the hands of her mother and brother. Life wasn't fair. She knew that. She bitterly knew that. Looking at the green button, her hand down.

She was mindfully aware that no matter what, either way, death was unavoidably close. Outside of this place, she wouldn't amount to anything. The games were her only chance at changing that.

Turning, she joined the players who had voted. Behind her, Player 237 voted yes. Player 232 went next, pressing yes as well. Nari didn't know whether to be confused or not. To her, he shouldn't be in games like this to begin with. He should be at home with his family, living securely and safely. Instead, he was there. Nari, though, should be home securely, too. She shouldn't of had to drop out of college; she shouldn't of had to support her mother and brother; she shouldn't of been in as much debt as she was at her age. Maybe Player 232 was dealt the same misfortunate cards that she had. Maybe he had no choice but to stay, much like herself. He casted no look of judgement or shame when he returned to his spot beside her when their eyes met. She was reminded then its better to leave opinions unsaid on topics she knew nothing about.