A / N; Hi everyone! I'm SO so so sorry I did not update in 2 weeks! I was so busy with work and I was not able to focus on editing the fanfic in the smallest bit but finally I got my up...
So in this chapter the gang life finally starts~ I actually don't really know what to say about this so... just go ahead and read it haha
I'm really thankful to all the people who subscribed to this story so far, so many people, it's incredible! I hope you will like this fic in the future too~ See you next time :)

word count; 2650     date; 14/12/14

nine

Mess

Cherry Filter - Andromeda
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M5lWvBG77yQ
 

Late at night, the damp dark of march hung drowsily between the skyscrapers of the city that I have been calling my home for a few years already. All like Busan, nothing like it at all.

I sat on my bed, supporting my elbows on my knees, laying my face into my sweaty palms.

Hunched over I sat, listening to the enraged stamper that distanced itself with every step, growing more quite gradually until vanishing from audibility completely with a bang of a door. They were gone.

I tried to filter the anger out my system by sighing over and over again, like ridding myself of Seoul’s pollution that dirtied my lungs.

Only this time Seungyoon had polluted my heart.

He and I just had a fight.

Again. Always.

Same reason. Again. Always.

At the buzz of my cellphone I got up.

I gave a short glimpse at the dimly lit screen before it faded to black again.

There was not one time of looking at my phone, that did not remind me of all the things that had changed so much.

Everything did. No exceptions.

Sweet to bitter. Friendship to barely ever not fighting. Loving to loving oneself more.

I came to learn that when you don’t have to worry about the continuity of your existence in the world anymore, a lot of other things occur to your worry and they manifest in your brain, slowly dragging you into their possession.

That’s how I pictured what had happened to my best friend, Seungyoon.

And money had been the trigger.

My wavy black hair in disarray, I pulled it into a high ponytail.

I needed it out of the way soon, anyways.

Throwing on a jacket and grabbing Taehyun’s old duffel bag that had somehow wandered into my routinely use, I slammed the front door to our two-storey house shut just like Seungyoon had, when he stormed out.

The hollow sound that flooded the thin, not-fully-spring air almost reminded me of the clunk with which the door of the orphanage had fallen shut the night of our escape.

It filled me with weird excitement but also too familiar sorrow.

I rounded multiple corners, pulling my hood into my face little by little with every sharp wind that took a try to cut my high cheeks.

For what had changed…

We, now bearing the burdening name that was WINNER, had built up a whole kingdom for ourselves in Seoul’s merciless underworld. We became one of the most well-known gangs.

And with guns and knives came a whole different way of worrying about the continuity of our existence. Or more, fearing it.

We had moved into a big house.

It had an open kitchen adjoining the living room with a big flat screen tv and massive couch.

One flight of stairs led up to our bedrooms, Seungyoon and I each having one of our own.

Spiral stairs led down into a basement, which we more or less used as a weapon storage and headquarters, home to all gang businesses.

One bathroom on each floor as well.

But not only our living situation turned 180 degrees. Having to get to know the people I had lived with for years from a completely different side, it hurt.

Only Taehyun had stayed the same, cold, indifferent, easily irritated. But I didn’t like him in the first place so it was not that hard on me. His nickname was “Heartless Killer” as he found liking in weapons, especially snipers.

As for Mino, he and I grew very close. He was always fun to be around, entertaining. He was the kind of guy you just want to trust blindly and pour out your heart to. But I never did. I knew better than that. Besides that, he never opened up either.

Seungyoon though, being the proud leader, took to managing the money until the money took too much to him.

He always was the risky kind of type. Risky actions and a risky character. Risky to be with.

And his love for risk formed into a love for gambling. He’d win, he’d lose, he’d never come home before 3am on days he had a game and he’d never come home without deeply blue hemorrhages when he’d lost.

The next morning I always knew what the outcome of the game the night before had been.

Was it that what he used his freedom on?, was what I’d ask myself every night when I lay awake on my bed, waiting for the sound of him climbing the stairs.

Seungyoon never hated me or turned away from me. But rather than being friends, he more and more obsessed over me, my safety to be precise. It was the one thing that was more precious to him than his money. And he would have never gambled with my safety. Which resulted in the more he went out, the more I had to stay in.

I was not ever allowed outside after dark, which came in at always changing times throughout the year.

To Seungyoon, as he had once said it in his own words, I was the ‘too precious to put in any kind of danger’ girl.

That was my role in WINNER.

If Seungyoon would ever find out I was about to enter one of Seoul’s most dangerous fight clubs, he’d lock me up in my room for good.

The facade on the street was one of an old bookstore, long closed down and left to decay.

I headed for a bookshelf at the far back of the moldy shop and pushed it aside by putting my weight against the brittle wood. Every single time I asked myself how this lousy hideout still remained undiscovered by the police.

An entrance revealed itself to me.

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