Warning(s): action, violence, blood
Length: 9.1k words

“Is she gonna be okay?”

“We’ll know the full extent of her injuries if she wakes up.”

“If?” Baekhyun feels his shoulders slump. “You mean, there’s a chance that she won’t wake up?”

The doctor’s face is unmoving. “She sustained a severe concussion, not to mention a fractured skull that led to some heavy bleeding. And it was just last night that she had surgery to remove some of the swelling. Most head injuries like the one she got don’t end up well,” the doctor states. He looks at Baekhyun with a solemn expression. “It wasn’t looking good when they brought her in, and the fact that she’s still here is great news. I have no reason to believe that she won’t wake up, but statistically speaking—”

“There’s a chance she won’t wake up,” Baekhyun finishes. “She might die.”

The silence that follows is ugly. Dr. Choi is too nice to confirm what Baekhyun asserted, and Baekhyun is too guilty to accept that there is some good news. Mimi did make it out this far, but she’s still not in the clear—and it’s all Baekhyun’s fault. Because of him, she’s in critical condition, and Mark is dead.

“You should get some rest,” Dr. Choi says. “You’ve done all you can.”

Have I? Baekhyun slumps into a seat next to Mimi’s bed as the doctor walks away to check on other patients. It’s 7AM, which is the prime quiet hour. Most of the night crime casualties have already been reported, and injured gang members came to the ER before 3, leaving Baekhyun to the soft hum of air conditioning. Mimi needed to get to surgery to remove the swelling around her brain, and since she had no family to give the procedure the okay, Baekhyun had to come in. Since then, he has been at the hospital and thinking that no, he had not, in fact, done enough.

“I did this to you,” Baekhyun mumbles as he looks at Mimi’s resting face—which he can hardly bear to do. Her head is partly wrapped in white bandages, driving a stake of guilt further into Baekhyun’s heart. “I’m sorry, Mi. This is all my fault, and Mark…” He takes a sharp intake of breath. The mere mention of that name is painful, agonizing even. “I’m gonna make it right,” he promises, “for the both of you.”

Baekhyun hears loud clicks on the floor from down the hallways, and as they get closer, he realizes that Mimi has a visitor—two, to be precise. The loud clicks are from heels, and accompanying those sounds are softer footsteps. They grow closer and closer until Baekhyun turns upon feeling the air behind him shift. When he does so, he sees Ange and Seulgi standing at the doorway. Seulgi’s mouth is wide open, and she’s clearly in shock at the sight of her injured employee.

“What are you doing here?” Baekhyun asks Seulgi like it isn’t obvious. “I called you last night before her surgery, but you didn’t come.”

“I was in Macau, but I got on the earliest flight here,” Seulgi bumbles, striding over to Mimi’s side. “Holy ,” she gasps. Seulgi holds her hand up to , but she doesn’t obscure her eyes which are glassy. “H-Has she woken up yet?”

“No, and the doctor says that might not.” Baekhyun stands up, unable and unwilling to see other people grieve. “Take care of her, okay? I got stuff to do.”

Baekhyun doesn’t spare Ange a glance as he walks past her, but unfortunately, she follows him.

“Wait,” Ange pleads, but he knows where this is going, and he can’t have any of it. “Baekhyun,” she says in a hushed tone as they walk down the hospital corridor. “Don’t do it. Please, don’t. Baek—” Baekhyun has just begun to pick up his pace when Ange grabs him by the arm, forcing him to look into her wide eyes. “Please,” she whispers, voice exactly like her namesake. “You don’t have to seek revenge or, or try to—”

“I thought we went over this.”

“Please just listen to me!”

“Why?” Baekhyun cuts. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you’re blaming yourself for something that isn’t your fault!” Ange yells in a whisper. She realizes that she has raised her voice, however, and pulls him aside to a door marked with a custodial sign. “I blamed myself for my parents’ deaths, and that got me nowhere,” she explains to him. “It wasn’t my fault, just like how Mark’s death isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault!” Her voice is breaking as she clutches onto Baekhyun’s sleeve, but he doesn’t relent and doesn’t try to comfort her. “You can’t destroy yourself like this, Baek, please.”

“Your parents died in a car accident, okay?” Baekhyun rebuts. “A ing accident, Angel. No one deliberately went out and killed them with the intention of doing so.” Baekhyun shrugs Ange’s hand off him and takes a step back. Her very presence debilitates him, but he can’t give her that power now. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave me alone.”

“To do what?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to.”

“Baekhyun, you’re not a killer.”

It hurts. It stings. It’s a stake in his heart. Baekhyun stares into Ange’s eyes and sees good, innocence, and blissful ignorance swirling in them. He’s glad that he never told her everything about himself because she wouldn’t say those words. In a way, it’s comforting that she doesn’t know the truth, but in another sense, it’s incredibly sad because he couldn’t be honest with her. Even with her, he’s still lying, still trying to conceal who he actually is.

“Go home,” Baekhyun whispers, “and get some rest. You’re off for the next month.”

Ange tilts her head. “What do you mean I’m off?”

“You don’t have to show up for work.”

“No,” Ange breathes. “No, Baekhyun, wait.”

Without another word, Baekhyun turns and strides down the hall, away from Ange and everything else that drives him to insanity. He wants to go back to her, of course, and let her know that all he wants to do is cry and tear at himself, but pride forces his legs to move forward. What’s worse is that she no longer tries to go after him. She’s not so innocent anymore if she knows that following him would lead into more trouble for herself.

And that hurts too.

- - - - -

Outside in the back parking lot of the hospital, Baekhyun finds himself committing to a bad habit. Leaning against the hood of his Jaguar with a cigarette in between his lips, he realizes that he has become exactly what his brother was. ed. In too deep. Royally screwed. Now all he can do is sit there with a cigarette in his mouth because there’s nothing else to do but screw himself over some more. Of course, it started out as a joke—smoking. Baekhyun only started doing it because his brother told him that the smoke acted as a cover for cameras, but now he’s doing it because he actually, sort of likes it. Maybe it’s a metaphor for how he’s willingly destroying himself by living such a life.

Baekhyun inhales the smoke, allowing it to dirty his lungs. With every breath, the poison of the cigarette infiltrates his body, filling him with black nothingness and coating his insides with tar. As sick as it is, he closes his eyes and takes a breath of toxic fumes willingly, gladly.

“I didn’t think you were the smoking type.”

“Get the away from me, Loey.” Baekhyun knows that voice, but he doesn’t care if Loey is armed with a knife or pointing a gun at his head. In Baekhyun’s mind, he’s dead anyways, so there’s no point of trying to fight back. Instead, he keeps his eyes closed and takes another drag. “I’m busy. I don’t have time for your bull.”

“It’s not bull,” Loey retorts. His voice grows louder from Baekhyun’s left until it’s right in front of him. Without warning, a force—Loey’s hand—grabs the cigarette out of Baekhyun’s mouth, forcing him to open his eyes. Upon doing so, Baekhyun glares at Loey and his perfectly coiffed white hair.

“What the ?” Baekhyun snaps. He rises to his feet, and despite his shorter height, pushes himself against Loey. “Do you wanna start a fight in a parking lot? Because I’ll do that.”

“I’m not here for a fight,” Loey snaps right back. “If I wanted to fight you, you’d already be on the ground.” Before Baekhyun can hurl more threats or take his cigarette back, however, Loey throws it on the ground and crushes it with his foot. “I’m here because I want your help, Byun Baekhyun.”

At the mention of his name, Baekhyun can only focus on that. As absurd it is that Loey is asking for his help, he’s more aware of the fact that Loey knows his name. Sure, there are a handful of people who know his true full name, and sure, his name isn’t exactly concealed, but it still comes off as a surprise that Loey knows.

“Who told you my name?” Baekhyun asks in a lowered voice.

“The same guy who told you mine.” Loey crosses his arms and curls his lip up in disgust. “Or at least, that’s what he told me.”

Baekhyun still remembers the first time that Junmyeon tried to recruit him for some dirty bidding years ago. Even back then, Junmyeon always wanted to see Loey’s head on a stick. There’s this guy named Park Chanyeol from Seoul, Junmyeon said with such evident disdain. Junmyeon wanted Baekhyun to sabotage “Chanyeol,” but Baekhyun saw him as a legitimate competitor, and he was always much too prideful to win races dirtily. From that point on, even with his name in the wind, it was always Loey. As insufferable as he was, he was (and still is) one of Baekhyun’s competitors, perhaps even enemy when it came to street racing—but never on a personal level like Junmyeon.

“What? Did Junmyeon send you here to kill me? Or blow up the ing hospital?” Baekhyun scoffs. “Tell him to shove a stick up his .”

“I already told him that myself,” Loey quickly waves off. “And no. No one sent me.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Were you not listening?” Loey hisses, visibly annoyed. “I want your help.”

“Is this a joke?” Baekhyun continues to glare at Loey. “There’s a million guys out there who you could pay to do anything, and you come here asking for my help? Yeah, right.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Loey snaps. He steps closer to Baekhyun, causing the latter to become guarded, but to Baekhyun’s surprise, he doesn’t pull out a weapon for intimidation. “Listen,” he mutters in a disgruntled tone, “I know we’re not exactly friends, but ever hear the saying my enemy’s enemy is my friend?”

Baekhyun softens his glare in the realization. “You want my help taking down Junmyeon?” he asks. Loey raises his brows in confirmation, and Baekhyun scoffs in response. “You’re crazy,” Baekhyun says with a shake of his head. “Crazy that you want my help, and even crazier if you think you can take down a guy like Junmyeon.” Baekhyun fishes his keys out of his pocket. “Good luck with handling his security to get close enough.”

Loey strides to the side of Baekhyun’s car and places his hand over the door, preventing the latter from opening it. “That’s it?” Loey demands, glaring at Baekhyun. “You didn’t even hear the good part.”

“The ‘good’ part? And what the is that?”

“You help me take Junmyeon down,” Loey reiterates slowly, “and I’ll help you take Sehun down.”

Baekhyun knows that it’s bull at that point. Loey and Sehun have known each other for years and have been each other’s accomplices for the longest time, so there’s no way that Loey would ever betray his partner like that. Sure, he might Junmyeon enough to seek help from someone like Baekhyun, but he won’t ever betray Sehun.

“ off, Loey,” Baekhyun mutters, pushing him away from his car. “You’re not fooling me with that.”

“I swear on God,” Loey insists. “I know what Sehun did to your guy.”

“My guy?” Baekhyun pauses, almost seething at the fact that Mark has already been reduced to just some random, unnamed guy. “You don’t know what the you’re talking about.”

“I don’t? I know you want Sehun dead.” Loey doesn’t make another attempt to stop Baekhyun from entering his car, but he keeps his feet planted, signaling that he’s still not going anywhere. “Word gets around easy here, Baekhyun, and Sehun’s not exactly the type to keep his mouth shut.”

“And what? You think I’m desperate enough to go to you for help?” Baekhyun scoffs. “This is a set up,” he presumes, pointing an accusatory finger at Loey. “I’m not stupid either, if that’s what you’re getting at. I can take Sehun down myself.” Baekhyun finally opens his car door and gives Loey one last glare. “And stop calling me Baekhyun. Only my friends get to do that.”

“My enemy’s enemy is my—”

Baekhyun gets into his car and shuts the door behind him before Loey can finish his worn statement. However, before Baekhyun can speed away, Loey slams down a piece of a paper on his car window, where it sticks. With an annoyed sigh, Baekhyun lowers the window down to flick off the piece of paper and to tell Loey to leave him away, but upon doing so, he catches a glimpse of the paper and its contents.

CHANYEOL, it states in a messy scrawl. Below it is a number.

“When you do get desperate,” Loey says from outside, “that’s my number. And for the record, I know you’ll need me soon, so prepare yourself and start calling me Chanyeol now rather than later.”

He turns and walks off, leaving Baekhyun with a piece of paper and Loey’s contact. Of course, he doesn’t need to call Loey—not now, not sooner, not ever—so he crumples up the paper and throws it inside his glove compartment for disposal later.

- - - - -

Baekhyun exits his Jaguar and steps out onto wet concrete with a light splash, causing him to mutter a curse. The plan was supposed to be as discrete as possible, but leaving footsteps behind isn’t exactly inconspicuous. Regardless, Baekhyun doesn’t slow his stride or wipe his feet when he heads inside the club and joins the small crowd of people brash enough to get drunk on a weekday. He positions himself at a booth, away from most prying pairs of eyes. It’s a prime spot with an overview of the back and front entrances, and that will enable him to catch Sehun entering or leaving.

Though Baekhyun doesn’t have any mutual friends with Sehun and nor does he have the time to hire a private investigator, he remembers him having a fondness for nightclubs and catamarans. Since it’s not boating season, the only place where Sehun would go is an expensive Seoul nightclub. Never mind that it’s Wednesday. The man is a part of one of Seoul’s constantly warring gangs; he has nothing to do but go to a nightclub on weekdays when he’s not at a street race.

Hours seem to pass for Baekhyun as he sits there in the booth. He has to order drinks to avoid suspicion, so he gets the small ones—the vodka shots—but dumps them all on the floor. If he needs to make a quick getaway on foot or with his car, he can’t do that under the influence. It is tempting, though, to sit there without a drink as he tries to stake out for Sehun. Good things come to those who work for it, but good things also come to those who are patient enough, so he’ll just have to up his boredom and wait for the man to show up—which eventually does happen.

Sehun seems to waltz into the club with several of his henchmen. They’re all dressed in vibrant, loud clothing with Sehun sporting a bright pink blazer. Rows of silver chains and necklaces cover his neck, appearing to sparkle when he walks under the club’s flashing lights. Even from a distance, Sehun is easy to spot because of his skinny stature and broad shoulders—and his nose sticks out from his head like a shark fin from water.

Baekhyun tilts his head slightly to get a better look at Sehun when he meets with a group of women at the bar. Unfortunately, that isn’t enough, and too many congregating patrons start to obscure Baekhyun’s view of Sehun, forcing him to move to a different spot.

As he walks to the stairs leading to the second floor, Baekhyun tries to keep his eyes peeled on Sehun’s crowd. While he doesn’t have a direct view of Sehun, he assumes him and his men to be socializing with the group of well-dressed women that have been perusing the club for some time now. One of those girls had approached Baekhyun earlier, and it was immediately clear that she was a hooker, so there’s no surprise that they’re trying to find easy money from Sehun’s group.

“Oops, sorry,” a drunken man blurts out when he bumps into Baekhyun. The girl under the man’s arm is equally as drunk—if not to a greater extent—and she stumbles over her own feet, nearly falling over to the stairs. Baekhyun catches her before she can tumble down, however. “Thankssssss,” the man says, helping the woman up.

Baekhyun doesn’t answer as he pushes past the drunken couple and to the loft that overlooks the base floor of the club. His eyes dart over to the central bar where Sehun had been, but to his surprise, the crowd has dispersed. Cursing under his breath, he makes his way back downstairs for any signs of Sehun or his entourage, and he barely catches a glimpse of a familiar pink blazer exiting the back door of the club.

Could be an ambush, Baekhyun thinks to himself. He decides not to follow them through that exit, so he goes back to where he entered in hopes that he can round the corner and spot them by the back door.

Stepping back outside onto wet concrete, Baekhyun lowers his head to avoid looking suspicious. He chose not to dress as Lux for tonight, but he didn’t forget to bring a gun and a spare knife just in case someone tried to jump him. As protected as he thinks he is, he quickly becomes vaguely aware of the ghost-like pain in his right arm. Even though Sehun shot him a little over three weeks ago now, Baekhyun can still recall how it felt. Sometimes, when he fingers the scar that resulted from the surgery needed to take the bullet out, he swears it feels like someone shot him again. Now, in times of anxiousness, he can feel his arm throb, almost as if it’s expecting another bullet.

Baekhyun has only turned the corner when he feels a prickle travel up his spine. A shift in the air, an extra breath, a touch of displaced sound—he doesn’t know how he knows, but someone is watching him. Instinctively, he turns, and to his horror, someone is watching.

“You’re playing the wrong game,” Sehun shouts from under the shadows of a tree a few meters away. As he emerges, five or six of his lackeys go along and form a circular shape around him. They approach Baekhyun who now has no choice but to back away slowly. “If you think you can stalk me in my own club, you’re wrong.”

“I wasn’t stalking you,” Baekhyun scoffs. He holds his ground when Sehun’s men has him completely surrounded. “Clubs are still legal, if you didn’t know.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Sehun mocks. He cracks his knuckles, and Baekhyun glances down at his ring-laced fingers. One good punch from him would be enough to open gashes. “There’s no reason why you should be here. There’s no street race tonight, and you don’t have any friends here.” Sehun snickers at that. “I don’t know why you’re following me, and I don’t care because you won’t do it again.” Sehun casually places a hand on his hip, moving his blazer back to show a gun holstered by his belt. “If I catch you again,” Sehun muses, “I might not be in a good mood.” Sehun gives Baekhyun a smoldering glare before punching him in the shoulder—the shoulder that he shot. “Have a good night, okay? By the way, you might want to check your car’s tire pressures.”

Sehun and his men walk away, shoving Baekhyun in the process. When they disappear from his view, Baekhyun lets out a growl of frustration. There are many things that he’s good at—like driving or fixing cars. Stalking and gathering intel really isn’t his forte, so it was inevitable that he got caught.

Baekhyun makes his way back to his car, and to add to his frustrations, one of the tires is slashed and flat.

“ing Sehun,” Baekhyun grumbles. The rim—the now slightly scratched special edition Jaguar F-Type rear rim—cost an upwards of a thousand Euros, and since Baekhyun imports special rubber tires from Italy, replacing an entire wheel would be extremely costly. Not only does he need to pay for an exorbitant amount for shipping, but he’ll also need to add an extra amount for the materials—and that’s not mentioning the time he’ll have to wait for things to arrive.

Regardless, Baekhyun sits in his car and takes out his phone to call a local towing company. Before he can dial the number, though, he remembers Loey and his offer.

Baekhyun pauses for a moment, contemplating the absurdity of the choice. He doesn’t trust Loey, of course, but after tonight, Baekhyun realizes that he wasn’t kidding about Sehun. If Sehun could identify Baekhyun’s presence by seeing his car, then he could do other things, proving that he’s a formidable enemy—an enemy that needs two stones to kill. If Baekhyun can’t even stalk the guy from afar, then what damage could he do up close? Baekhyun got close before, and Sehun ended up beating his and killing his friend. In other words, Baekhyun needs help. However, it’s Lo