Don't Ask Don't Tell

Chapter 2: All's fair in chess

Two hours later, Suga wasn't sure why he had been worried at all. Tonight was just like any other night. BamBam was serving drinks, as he normally did at this time of night, Reila was dancing in her trademarked "crazy coke whore" way. The men in suits who forked over thousands to see them were paying hand over Rolex-donning fist. Everything was perfectly normal.
Suga looked at the leering crowd. There were more here than usual. The tip rail was full, and they were throwing cash at him faster than they could dig it out of their wallets. The men throwing fistfuls of cash at him all looked old enough to be his father. There were only two that were scarcely older than he was, which somehow made him feel more creeped out.
Suga was happy to collect his hard-earned money and get offstage. He counted it as he went. He was right, he made a night's wages in an hour. It was rare he collected ₩430000 on his first dance of the night. He usually didn't have more than one in a night, which was why he made such shit money all the time. He was finally starting to be treated like the older workers. They all made eons more than he did, even though they worked the same hours.
Suga ignored the crowds of men staring at him as he walked past to the bar. Reita was working hard tonight, bringing out all kinds of flair bartending that Suga hadn't seen him ever do before. Apparently, the flashier it looked, the more money you made. Suga didn't know anything about bartending, so he just went with what Reita said.
As soon as Reita saw him, he winked with his uncovered eye and slid a crystalline glass of water Suga's way. The glass was so perfectly clear, Suga didn't want to smudge it with his fingerprints, but thirst won out and he downed half of it in one gulp, scanning the crowd. The pawns are lined up, the queen has just taken out a knight, by the looks of a nearby man being thrown out on his ass, and the king holds steady. The bass of shitty dubstep music blasted so loud Suga felt it in his chest, and the neon-candy colour scheme and strobe lights burned his already-strained eyes.
There's a new person, Suga caught his eye. Sitting in one of the booths, with a severely uninterested look on his face as Reila jerked and spasmed in front of him, too high to really know what she was doing.
That was new. None of the clients, no matter how wrecked Reila was, ever ignored her.
Suga thought to himself that this new person, whoever he was, was one of the few in here who were actually attractive. Most of the men here just looked like creeps. But this guy, with his dyed-blonde hair and angular face highlighted by the overly-bright lights, he was different.
It would seem that a rook had come into play.
Suga only had the time to see a boxy smile cross over the Rook's face as the doors burst open, and a flurry of police officers ran in, guns drawn, backlit by red and blue lights. Patrons scatter, crowds sprawling everywhere. The music dies.
This was the only time Suga was ever thankful that the warehouse was such a maze of hallways. He knew the place like the back of his hand, and he was fast enough to get out. Suga sprinted into the locker room, collected his things, and burst out the employee entrance door. He didn't stop running until he couldn't see the warehouse anymore.
It was then, and 0nly then, Suga pulled his shirt over his head. He stopped in a dark, dank alleyway and got dressed, taking inventory of his things. He had his wallet, which was good since it had his student ID card and his debit card. He lost his chain and a whole of ₩5000. That wasn't a huge loss. The chain was a flea market buy.
Suga decided to cut his losses and headed for the train station. He pretended like his heart wasn't hammering in his chest like he wasn't afraid he would still be caught. Who knew, he could have been tailed.
Suga stood in silence, the train car equally as full now as it was when he went to work. Who the hell took the train at this hour?
Suga wasn't just worried about saving his own ass, he was worried about his co-workers. What if Reita, or Ruki, Jimin, Rocky, Reila — the list went on — what if they didn't make it out as he did? Reila would be absolutely fucked. The withdrawals would kill her. Not that he particularly cared about her all that deeply, but she was someone he had known for so long. And the rest of them, the absolute disgrace, some would risk being disowned...
Suga leant his head against the cold metal of the pole in front of him, praying to a God he wasn't quite sure he believed in but was certain he'd been forsaken by, that just this once, everything would work out alright.
He'd counted his own team's pieces. He hadn't banked on a checkmate so soon. He was undoubtedly fucked now. But there wasn't really anything else to do but clear the board and start a new game.