Chapter Text
Wonjin thinks he got used to the aspects of playing professionally pretty quickly.
The stage lights were almost blinding—nowadays they're about as bright, but he soon began to enjoy the warmth they provided. The huge crowd of fans cheering like their lives depended on it made his shoulders heavy with pressure; though a nice sequence of victories helped that feeling go away. Things also didn't change much when he switched from playing League of Legends to VALORANT about two years ago.
The one thing that has stuck with him since his rookie days, however, is the adrenaline buzzing in his veins every single game. Wonjin hopes it'll never leave him, actually—it motivates him. Pushes him to do better, to try and read the enemy team's next move before they even know what they're doing. That determination is what made him team captain, and being team captain makes him even more determined: to win, to show everyone his team is the best the scenario has to offer. It's a vicious circle.
That thrill accompanies him right now also, as VITY Esports is one point away from winning the first map of this best of three series against CRAVE, one of their fellow Korean teams. Wonjin opens his mouth to start discussing possible strategies for this round, but he is interrupted by a timeout called by the other team before he can even begin.
"They paused at twelve." Taeyoung says, with furrowed brows. "Who pauses at twelve?!"
"They're delaying the inevitable," Allen chirps. "The snowball is already here, baby."
"I like your enthusiasm, boys," their coach's voice comes through, taking advantage of the opposing coach's timeout. "but let's not get too crazy. There's not much for me to say here, just... Don't rush to end the map. Play how you're doing right now."
"You got it, hyung," Wonjin sighs, suddenly anxious with the possibility of losing. He shakes his head, leaning back. "Minhee, twelve seconds. Wake up."
Minhee groans, opening his eyes and readjusting his chair so he is sitting upright. "There's no reason for you to be worried, Jooheon-hyung. The only way we're losing is if we all forget how to use a keyboard and mouse."
"I'm not worried, I'm doing my job." Jooheon retorts. "And don't say that. Twitter is not going to like that one."
Minhee scoffs. "Twitter can suck my—"
Jungmo, who sits in between Wonjin and Minhee, scolds the younger by hitting him in the arm. There's no more time for discussion as the one minute timeout ends, and they're thrown back into the game. Wonjin feels zaps of electricity all over his skin.
The round starts, and everyone moves to their designated positions. Wonjin is playing late compared to the rest of the team, hoping to get some information on the enemies' positions before joining everyone else. That playstyle also allows him to look more at the minimap and coordinate the team a bit easier.
Taeyoung manages to get a kill early on. "One dead. There's one more in waterfall, though."
"I can smoke for you," Minhee pipes up.
Wonjin watches as the rest of the team takes control of site and plants the spike. He is still on the other side of the map, waiting, and the buzz in his fingertips wants him to move, to be more aggressive. He doesn't act on it, and his discipline is then rewarded: he catches two players trying to lurk through VITY's spawn.
That leaves one enemy remaining. This one actually appears a few seconds later from the same place the previous two did, successfully taking Wonjin out.
"Also there. Leaving A now," he communicates. "What are they doing?" Wonjin chuckles, leaning back in his chair now that he's dead. Then, because he can, he speaks loud enough to be heard across the stage, "What are you doing?!"
"Calm down, Wonjin, we haven't won the game yet," Allen nudges him.
"It's a 1v4, hyung. We're only losing this if you all throw on purpose," he argues, and spectates Allen getting one-tapped by the enemy. "I'll shut up now."
Wonjin stifles a laugh as Allen pretends to hit him in the arm. Meanwhile, Taeyoung swings and manages to catch the last opponent off guard. The victory banner slowly comes up—they win 13 to 7.
All five of them pat each other on the back before walking backstage for the quick break they are given in-between maps.
"That one round you clutched was so..." Jungmo exhales dramatically, hands gesturing a mind blow. "I almost got up and kissed you. That's how good it was."
Minhee giggles. "You know, they do say there's no time like the present."
"Dude..." Taeyoung winces as he watches Minhee pucker his lips. "I'm literally eating right now. Can you not?"
Minhee eyes the apple in Taeyoung's hand dismissively. "Have you ever thought that there could be, like, a kiss buff we don't know of? We have to try."
"We should all be kissing each other more," Jungmo adds.
"No, we shouldn't," Wonjin and Taeyoung reply in unison.
Allen hums, lips in a straight line as if he's actually considering the proposal. "If that's how we're playing without the buff, imagine if we did kiss each other, like, everyday."
Jungmo snaps his fingers. "Then we're easily the best team in the world."
"They are making a good point." Allen says, wiggling his eyebrows at Wonjin. "Jooheon-hyung does say it's always nice to improve our team bond."
"I'm pretty sure that's not what he meant by that," he runs a hand through his hair, "but sure, whatever. The other guys aren't even shooting back, so it doesn't matter. We might as well end their suffering a bit sooner."
"Hey, cut them some slack," Jungmo pouts. "They just changed their roster like three days ago. I'm sure they're doing the best they can."
"By the way, isn't that weird? Who makes changes that big right at the very last minute?" Allen asks.
They all shrug. Three days before their match against VITY Esports, CRAVE's official Twitter account announced they would be benching one of their players and signing someone new, under the claim of needing change and assuring they qualify for Champions later in the year.
Wonjin bites his tongue. "Who is the new guy, anyway? Never heard of him before."
"Oh, you mean Hyeongjun?" Taeyoung asks, and Wonjin furrows his brows. "I used to play with him."
The name neither answers Wonjin's question, nor means anything to him at all. But it seems to mean something to his teammates.
"On the same team?" Minhee raises his eyebrows. "When?"
"Early last year, back in Tier 2," Taeyoung replies, throwing the rest of his apple away. "he's really good. One of the best initiators I've seen."
"I thought CRAVE already had an initiator," Jungmo says.
"Yeah, but I read on some article they swapped some players around so Hyeongjun could have the role," the younger explains. "Woongki is on duelist now."
"Oh, they're doing it permanently?" Allen asks. "I thought that was just for that one map."
"Looks permanent to me," Taeyoung puffs out his cheeks. "But we'll see. Maybe they'll ask Serim-hyung about it in an interview later."
Wonjin eventually clicks his tongue. "Anyways, that's nice and all, but we have the best initiator in the region," he says, pointing to Allen. "So I'm not really worried."
Allen pretends to get all embarrassed by the compliment, hiding his face in his hands. Jungmo giggles as he eyes the captain.
"Will it kill you to let us compliment other teams without making it about us in the end?"
"Medical orders, man. I have to intervene or else I'll start foaming at the mouth."
His curiosity remained, however. Was Hyeongjun really such an improvement compared to CRAVE's previous initiator, to the point it was worth changing so much of their lineup to accommodate him? Wonjin didn't think he was anything special when playing against him just now.
"Wow, what a great example you are," Minhee nods, clapping exaggeratedly. He keeps going for a while before turning to the camera crew nearby. "you're recording this, right? Our main representative here, everyone. This is what our organization is all about."
"Yah, don't try to twist my words!" Wonjin points a finger at Minhee, playful, before his tone switches to a more serious one. "I just don't want you guys to let comparisons get to your head. I truly believe we are one of the best, if not the best team in the scenario. And I want you to believe in that too."
Wonjin offers his open palm, and slowly, everyone else rests their own palms on top of his. The team stays together like that for a while, looking at each other without saying anything, letting the captain's words linger in the air.
His heart swells with what he can only name as adoration. This is his team. His family. He would do anything for them—trash talk any and every opponent until his reputation is forever ruined. Until he's on the brink of losing his career. He'd do it in a heartbeat, if it meant his players understood how good they are.
Taeyoung is the one to break the silence. "Wait, so there is footage of us saying we should kiss each other?"
That gets the whole group to erupt into laughter—even the camera crew struggles to hold it in. Jungmo and Allen clap enthusiastically, while Wonjin pretends to be very disappointed. This is his circus, yes, but some circumstances make it very embarrassing to admit that those are also his monkeys.
It feels right to classify this as one of them.
"Yah, that's good!" Minhee argues, face red from laughing so much. "We have proof it was our idea first, if any copycat teams try to steal it from us."
It's Taeyoung's turn to be disappointed, running a hand through his face. "Who would want to copy that?!"
"Many teams. We are very popular." Minhee says. "Isn't that right, Joohoney?"
Everyone turns their heads to stare at Jooheon, who is only now joining the rest of the team backstage. His eyebrows are quirked, scanning all players' faces.
"I am terrified to even ask what this is about," is his reply.
"Team bonding, coach. We're team bonding." Allen smirks.
Jooheon stares at them, like a parent who can obviously tell his children have done something they clearly were not meant to. Before he can say anything, however, Wonjin clears his throat.
"Break is almost over," he starts, "how about we go over our plan for map two?"
The plan is to win.
VITY starts on the attacking side, and so far, everything is working flawlessly in their favor. Jungmo kills the last enemy remaining and plants the spike, winning for the team their fourth round in a row.
Wonjin stands up from his chair, already feeling the adrenaline running through his entire body.
"LET'S GO!" he yells, wanting to make sure CRAVE is hearing. "What are you doing?!"
As he sits back down, he makes brief eye contact with CRAVE's leader—despite looking overall calm, Serim had an semblance of annoyance in his eyes.
It was good, but not enough. Wonjin needed more.
Round five begins, but before VITY can even do anything, CRAVE is already running at them full speed, trying to catch the players off guard. They manage to take out Taeyoung and Jungmo, but ultimately, their plan quickly falls apart as VITY's remaining members understand the situation and kill all five opponents. The score is 5-0.
Allen breathes out a laugh, wide-eyed. "What the heck? That round wasn't even a minute long."
"Go yell at them, hyung," Minhee leans forward to look at Wonjin with a big grin. "Put them in their place. Come on."
He didn't need to be asked twice.
Wonjin gets up so fast it makes him dizzy, but why would he focus on such a small feeling when there is also this far more important and unexplainable rush that controls his every move?
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?" There's a few more insulting words Wonjin wants to say, but he's almost certain he would then be going against the tournament's rulebook. Instead, he settles for a "You guys are so fucking bad."
Half of CRAVE's players don't even acknowledge him—because obviously, they know better than that—, but before he goes back to his seat, he happens to lock eyes with one of them. Hyeongjun's gaze lacks the annoyed feel Serim's had just minutes ago. Hell, for a moment, Wonjin swears there is a smirk being thrown his way.
Allen and Jungmo both urge him to sit down already, almost grabbing Wonjin by the arm to pull him into place.
CRAVE calls for a timeout to try and get their shit back together, which gives Jooheon the opportunity to talk to VITY as well. He's saying something about keeping up the work and sticking to the strategies they covered during practice, but Wonjin's attention is fully centered across the stage.
"He's looking at me," he mumbles.
"Who?" Jungmo leans over in curiosity. "Ooh. That's interesting."
"Poor Hyeongjun," Allen says. "Can you imagine having your debut in Tier 1 and immediately having to deal with Wonjin calling you trash the whole game?"
"Oh, he'll survive," Wonjin rolls his eyes and retributes the stare, hoping Hyeongjun can somehow hear him even though they're sitting so far apart from each other. "They don't even look like they're using their brains right now. If I wasn't the one to point it out, someone else inevitably would."
Maybe Hyeongjun does somehow hear him despite the distance, because CRAVE manages to win the next five rounds in a row and tie the score. Jooheon did call for a timeout once they consecutively lost three, but it simply wasn't effective. CRAVE seemed to always know what their strategy was and where they were going to be.
Worst of all, they realized that two could play the trash talk game—Hyeongjun experimentally stood up and started yelling to hype his team up, and then decided he'd do that almost every single round, specifically glaring at Wonjin.
"What's that thing you were saying, hyung? About them not using their brains?" Taeyoung asks.
"Shut up," he says through gritted teeth. He doesn't mean to sound rude, but he's starting to get annoyed. They are meant to win.
VITY loses their sixth round in a row, and after so much struggle, they manage to score again, ending the first half on a 6-6 tie. Not bad, but also not good, considering their initial lead.
"It's fine," Wonjin breathes out, though it is most an attempt to calm his own nerves down rather than talking to the rest of the squad. "Ascent is a more defender-sided map, anyway. We can win."
As the match progresses, it looks less like a competition of who is better at the shooting game and more like trying to determine who can be the loudest. VITY wins a flawless round? Wonjin practically jumps up and yells whatever variation of "You are dogshit" he hasn't already said today. Then, someone over at CRAVE will clutch a seemingly impossible 1v4, and Hyeongjun will do the honors and start screaming too, slowly building up confidence.
"I don't know how production hasn't dragged you two off the stage already," Minhee comments.
"Because this is what gets people hyped," Wonjin argues, moving his headset away from one of his ears. Like this, it's a lot easier to hear the roaring crowd. "You hear that?"
The cheers made Wonjin's heart beat faster. Realistically, this match's results don't really matter to VITY—winning would be nice, of course, but losing it wouldn't really risk their chances of going to playoffs and eventually making it to Champions. To Wonjin, however, things felt more like a constant life or death situation. He'd accept a loss, but only after mulling it over for about an entire day.
The thrill rushing through his entire being also made him incredibly impatient. It gets him to make dumb decisions, trying to get things over with as fast as possible. But his small mistakes wouldn't have any weight in the long run, right? As long as he kept communicating and the team kept it together, surely they'd secure victory in no time—
Overtime, the game announces.
…Huh?
That didn't seem right. CRAVE felt like an entire different team now—playing almost opposite than how they did during map 1, no longer an easy opponent. In fact, both teams were showing about the same level of skill and understanding of the game.
Wonjin shakes his head. It doesn't matter. His team is the one that will win, anyway.
That's what he tells himself, as the game drags on. Hyeongjun can lamely try to trash talk as much as he wants, because it doesn't matter. Taeyoung can miss a few shots because he is a bit nervous, because it doesn't matter. VITY can lose map two, score 17 to 15, because it doesn't matter.
Wonjin blinks, staring at the defeat banner that pops up and eventually fades away from the screen. He removes his headset purely out of muscle memory, not really processing what just happened. He's led backstage alongside the rest of the team before he even knows it.
Wonjin lost games before. He's been playing professionally long enough for him to know that losing is part of the job. Almost just as important as winning, sometimes. But his field experience is also enough for him to know that team chemistry and coordination play a big role in victory.
So why the fuck were they struggling so much against a team who had none of it?
CRAVE assembled their roster in less than half a week. There was no way in hell they could synergize better than VITY, who had been playing together for almost a full year now. Either they knew something the rest of the VALORANT scene didn't, or they were the luckiest group of people alive.
Jungmo places a hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"
Wonjin turns to face him, only now realizing how tense he is. "Yeah, sorry. Was thinking about the game."
"It's okay." Jungmo nods, lips in a thin line. "They played well. So did we."
"We made a lot of mistakes, though. Mistakes we shouldn't be making." Most of those came from Wonjin himself, though he wouldn't admit that. "Come on, time for team talk."
He gathers everyone up for a speech about sticking to fundamentals and some other leader-like stuff he has probably said hundreds of times already, before passing the word to Jooheon. The whole time, his mind keeps coming back to Hyeongjun and his stupid rookie luck.
Wonjin clenches his fists. Luck. That's all it was.
In the span of just a few hours, Wonjin started to hate the concept of luck in its entirety.
Map three kicks off, and suddenly, nothing seems to work for him. It was like he was disconnected from the rest of the team, unable to match their synergy. Everyone but Wonjin was able to follow their game plan exactly as they've discussed and practiced so many times, and it was impacting them negatively. He'd lose important kills that could potentially change the outcome of a round, sometimes even dying too early.
It was bad.
The other boys tried to reassure him, with their usual fist bumps and repetitions of "nice try" after every round. They obviously meant well, but it seemed to only have the opposite effect on their captain. His mental seemed to have started melting since the beginning of the afternoon.
He spots the light at the end of the tunnel on the last round of the first half. Initially left alone in a 1v3, Wonjin manages to kill two in quick succession, which helps in boosting his confidence a little bit. Now it's him against CRAVE's own leader, and Wonjin thanks the heavens once he sees him while his back is turned.
But since all the luck in this studio seems to belong to no one but Hyeongjun, none of Wonjin's shots hit, making Serim aware of his presence.
Wonjin keeps shooting, but his bullets don't connect. As his character falls, the round ends and his screen flashes red. LOST. TEAM ELIMINATED.
"What happened, Wonjin?" He refuses to look up, already knowing that Hyeongjun has this ugly and fake pout on. "Don't want to stand up anymore?"
He digs his nails into the palms of his hands, to the point he almost draws blood. It's a better option compared to giving in to his urge of raising up a middle finger. That'd be a nasty fine he would very much like to avoid, though it is hard to resist the temptation.
He feels Allen shaking his shoulder, trying to comfort him, as he lets out a deep sigh.
The rest of the match is a blur. None of the bits Wonjin remembers of it are good, anyway: he tries to be a hero for the team, playing aggressively and by himself almost all the time, being met with defeat on every attempt. He can't even remember if he got scolded by Jooheon or any of the boys by his stupidity—all voices and noises, even important in-game ones, fused together.
The one sound he wished to block out the most was ironically the only one he could distinctly make out from the rest: every single insult that came out of Hyeongjun's mouth hit him like knives cutting through skin.
Wonjin wants to slam his head into the monitor repeatedly, until his brain reboots and stops focusing on Hyeongjun and his dumb beginner trash talk so much. Even his grip on his mouse feels awkward and wrong. How does a guy manage to get so deep in his head he's forgetting the basics?
In the end, VITY loses. Wonjin doesn't remember the right scores. His entire body is buzzing and his mind is screaming, previous adrenaline and desire to win turning into frustration and a nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach. When they have to all leave the stage, Wonjin keeps his eyes down the entire time.
He'd avoid his own teammates, if he could. It's a want that gets shoved into the deepest corner of his mind almost instantly, because he's their leader and he has to take responsibility—especially in a moment like this, where he's the reason behind their loss.
He mumbles apologies to them over and over, even when they all, even Jooheon, insist that they're not mad. That doesn't mean there's not disappointment in their tones.
When it's time for their van to take them back to their office, Wonjin hesitates. "I think I'll stay a bit longer."
His throat goes dry as a bunch of heads turn to him, in a mix of curiosity and concern.
"Are you sure, hyung?" Taeyoung asks.
"Yeah," he replies. His chest feels heavy and he finds it hard to get his words out. "I'll walk around. See the fans, get some fresh air."
He's still being stared at. Minhee eyes him suspiciously, like he wants to say something, but he never does. Allen and Jungmo tell him to stay safe, and then they're gone.
Walking around the studio does help, in a way. There's still anger and sadness and frustration all bottled inside Wonjin, mixed so he ironically feels almost empty. It's bittersweet when he bumps into fans, who after asking for pictures and autographs, sing him praises and try to comfort him for the unlucky loss. He wishes they'd talk to him about literally anything else.
He does feel better in the end, as he quietly walks around the studio's parking lot. The second game of the day is happening inside, so he has all this space for himself and his own thoughts of all the different decisions he could've made throughout the match.
Allegedly.
"Hey, Wonjin!"
At first, he thinks it's his tired mind playing tricks on him. Wonjin keeps walking, until he hears steps coming from behind, running towards him.
He turns around, and immediately regrets it.
"Hey," Hyeongjun stops right in front of him, catching his breath. "Heard from a few VITY fans you were still around the building."
"Yeah," Wonjin replies flatly.
He can already feel his stomach turning. Right as he was starting to feel better about things.
"I wanted to have a word with you, but I was dragged away for an interview the moment we all got off stage," Hyeongjun explains, unaware of the fact Wonjin isn't interested in listening.
"Anyways," he continues when Wonjin remains silent. "that was a good game we had out there. It was fun."
Wonjin laughs. It's angry and bitter and suddenly his entire body is buzzing.
"Was it?"
"Yeah. With how close it was and all," Hyeongjun fidgets with the sleeve of his jersey. "To be honest, I'm still a bit shocked we actually won. I thought I was already lucky enough just for getting to be on stage."
Wonjin bites his tongue. Hard. He's lost count of how many times he has been reminded of his defeat. All because of luck.
It happens before Wonjin even realizes it. Hyeongjun opens his mouth to say something else, though he never gets the chance to. Wonjin moves, like he's lost control of his own body, and his fist hits Hyeongjun with full force.
Hyeongjun stumbles back, obviously hurt, but also confused. His hand immediately shoots up to cover his left—and now injured—eye.
Wonjin looks down at his own hand. It didn't stop the buzzing like he hoped it would.
"Fuck you and your rookie luck," he spits out, adrenaline still awfully high. "That's all you have. Don't go getting your hopes up."
He somehow gets back to VITY's office after that—he remembers turning around after those words, unable to meet Hyeongjun's eyes for too long, parking lot silent apart from his hurried steps to find the exit. All else that follows is nothing but a blur.
Wonjin only feels slightly less exhausted once he wakes up the next day.
It's unlike him to get angry like this. He's emotional, sure, as there are thousands of videos out there of him crying and clinging to his teammates after qualifying for an international event or winning a regional trophy as evidence. But Wonjin's not an angry person. He doesn't lash out on others like that.
He picks up his phone to post about yesterday's loss. Having to acknowledge it makes him nauseous all over again, but there is nothing he can do about it. It's part of the job.
VITY hambboi @hambboi
1-2 vs @CRAVEgg
taking full accountability for the underwhelming result. this is not who we are.
next week will be different this is a promise
There's more Wonjin wishes to say, but he chooses to save the energy. It's not like a long thought-out tweet would change what's already happened.
He scrolls further down the timeline.
VITY mogu @mogufps
1-2 @CRAVEgg :( sorry to the fans, we stopped playing like ourselves halfway through
will be better next week. love u
CRV lemon @lemonsong
2-1 vs @VITYEsports, so grateful for being able to get on stage and do what i love
thanks everyone for your support, even if some express it differently than others <3
There's a photo attached to the last tweet. When it finally loads, Wonjin goes pale.
It's a selfie—Hyeongjun posing with a simple thumbs up. The type of post you would normally scroll by without sparing it a second glance. It's what Wonjin would've done, if there wasn't a very evident black eye decorating Hyeongjun's face.
Wonjin's heart sinks as he opens the comments. As expected, there's hundreds of them, from loving fans to fellow professional players, some of who are very close to Wonjin. Almost every single one of them is pointing the bruise out, asking about it and if Hyeongjun is okay. Some beg to know who is the evil, terrible person who had the courage to do such a thing to him.
He shuts his phone off.
At that moment comes the belated realization that, among all things Wonjin could've done driven by his anger, he managed to choose the one most capable of ruining his career forever.
He's done for.
Attempting to go normally about his day after that is a living hell. He's constantly on high alert, waiting for something that never comes. For a Twitter mention exposing him publicly, for any of his teammates to call him out in the middle of practice, for Jooheon to drag him to his office and yell at him for being such an irrational idiot, before demanding he never steps foot inside the VITY Esports building again.
Nothing happens. It's a normal day of practice. No one comes even close to mentioning the tweet. It gets to a point where Wonjin starts to wonder if everyone is putting up an act—they're only waiting for Wonjin's guilt to eat him alive, to the point he has no other option but to fess up. Then they can kick him out of the team and exclusively reveal everything to the press: 'VITY Esports' in-game leader banned from all events due to physical assault.'
That thought sends shivers down Wonjin's spine, so logically, the right decision here is to take this secret with him to the grave. That's something he can manage. He'll keep his mouth sealed shut until the scandal dies down.
Wonjin does not keep his mouth shut.
As it turns out, pretending you didn't do something very dumb in the heat of the moment that could cost you your job and reputation forever is painfully difficult. Every time someone's stare lingers at him for a moment too long, Wonjin's stomach drops.
When the weight feels like too much for him to bear, he starts considering his options. Taeyoung used to be on the same team as Hyeongjun, and seemingly still has a lot of respect for him, so Wonjin can't tell him. He also can't tell Allen, because before Wonjin could even finish talking, Allen would most likely drag him in front of the press and force him to get on his knees and apologize about a hundred times.
So, given his limited choices...
"I'm sorry," Minhee pinches the bridge of his nose. "I thought I heard you say that you punched a guy because we lost a game. But surely I'm wrong, because that would be insane, right?"
Wonjin sinks into the couch of their office's lounge area. He purposefully avoids Minhee's eyes.
"Oh my God, hyung," he paces back and forth for a bit, pushing his palm heels into his eyes. "how in the— Why?"
"I don't know! It... It just happened."
"Punches don't just fucking happen! Did you forget how your arm works?!"
"Minhee, give him a break." Jungmo speaks up, placing a hand on Wonjin's shoulder. "So no one else knows?"
Wonjin sighs. "No. Only you two."
Originally, Minhee was meant to be the only one who knew. But as soon as Wonjin stepped foot inside the lounge, he had spotted him alongside Jungmo on the couch, foreheads almost touching as they laughed over something one of them said. If Wonjin wasn't so worried about his own issues, he'd question such proximity. Instead, he hopes at least one of them can be of help.
"Okay," Jungmo nods, trying to sound encouraging. It actually helps calm Wonjin's nerves down a little. "That's good. It means the news haven't spread."
"Yet." Minhee adds.
"Can you not?"
"Sorry I don't like the idea of our IGL getting blacklisted because he couldn't control himself," Minhee exhales. "Seriously, what's up with that? Hundreds of other people have trash talked you before."
Wonjin stares at nothing in particular.
"I don't know. There's something about him," he says, a dull ache in his knuckles. "His face."
Minhee and Jungmo share a look. Wonjin doesn't know what it means.
He clears his throat. "Anyway, do you think there's anything I can do? Like at all?"
"Hard to say," Minhee replies. "Thing is, there's no way even to tell what your punishment would be if you did get caught. This is a first in the VALORANT scenario."
"How wonderful," Wonjin says through gritted teeth.
"Sorry to say, Wonjinie, but I don't think there's anything to be done here," Jungmo pats his shoulder. "Besides waiting for everyone to forget about it, that is."
"People online are probably already theorizing. To me, the only thing you can do is pray that it doesn't spiral out of control."
"Very comforting, Minhee. Thanks a lot." Wonjin deadpans.
"We have to be realistic here, hyung. You spend a good chunk of our match against his team throwing insults at him. You only stop when they take the lead from us, and after that it's like your brain shuts off."
"Then you're giving everyone death glares for the rest of the game." Jungmo adds, quite cheerful, like it's a funny memory. Everyone seems very eager to add more salt to Wonjin's wound.
"He shows up hours later with a black eye." Minhee leans forward for even more emphasis, which Wonjin thinks is totally unnecessary, by the way. "It's honestly a miracle no one has actually called you out. Once you take a look at the full picture, it's kinda obvious you were the one that did it."
Wonjin huffs. Maybe he should've gone after Allen instead.
"So basically I need to wait for a miracle."
"Pretty much." Minhee clicks his tongue. "Try working on your anger issues in the meantime, hyung. That way you don't kill someone the next time you play like shit."
"Minhee!" Jungmo gasps, glaring at him.
"What?! I'm trying to help!"
Wonjin sighs. He feels like Jungmo and Minhee's troublemaker child. "Awesome."
Silence fills the lounge after that. Wonjin takes that time to absorb Minhee's words, as Jungmo gently places his hand on Wonjin's thigh.
He's thankful for the both of them—Jungmo's kindness is always appreciated, even if Wonjin feels he's not entirely deserving of it right now. Minhee's bluntness also helps, despite hurting his ego a little bit. He knows Minhee means well. They've known each other the longest, being the first two of the current roster to sign contracts with VITY.
"You could also," Jungmo eventually says, getting the other two to look at him curiously. "and this may sound a little crazy, but maybe, you could just go talk to Hyeongjun."
Wonjin blinks, slowly adjusting his posture on the couch. Minhee raises his eyebrows.
"That's an idea, for sure." Minhee says. "Can't say it's a great one, but it is an idea."
Jungmo rolls his eyes. "It's not like Wonjin has that much to work with. Maybe if he's honest and admits his emotions got the best of him, the guy will understand. Probably will still see you as a jerk, but he'll understand."
"Maybe," Minhee repeats.
Wonjin stares at the ceiling. The thought of standing in the same room as Hyeongjun again twists a knot in his guts. It gets even more stressful when he remembers he's trying to get out of a grave he dug for himself.
The dull ache in his knuckles remains. Part of his brain wants him to punch himself.
He almost does it.
VITY Esports and CRAVE meet again on the following Saturday. Tournament rules make it so they won't play against each other again for quite some time, but the schedule got their matches for this week to happen at the same day.
Wonjin dreads it.
It gets worse when they're all together in their waiting room, and Allen keeps talking about how he's been dreaming of getting an autograph from CRAVE's coach. Jungmo then looks at Wonjin in a way that almost pierces his soul.
"I can go with you to talk to her," he offers, feeling the weight of Jungmo's stare. Allen doesn't seem to notice. "You know, moral support."
"Please. I'm probably going to look like a fool in front of her."
"Everyone looks a little bit like a fool next to her, though." Taeyoung says. "Exy's a genius. I kinda wish she were our coach."
Allen pouts. "Why does CRAVE always take all the nice things from us?"
Wonjin stays quiet, even as he feels two certain pairs of eyes practically bore holes through his skull as he and Allen leave the room.
The studio's corridors are packed with staff running back and forth, most likely getting the stage ready for the first game of the day. They don't need to search much before they find CRAVE, all chatting outside their own waiting room. Allen moves toward Exy, and Wonjin finds himself awkwardly standing there, just a few steps away from Hyeongjun. He can't stop looking at the bruise.
Hyeongjun notices he's being stared at, so Wonjin forces himself to move. Though he wants to run away, he gets closer.
"Hey, Hyeongjun?" By a miracle, his voice doesn't crack. "You got a second?"
An eternity passes in the few seconds it takes for Hyeongjun to reply. He inhales so deep, Wonjin feels like he somehow managed to steal the air stored in his lungs.
"Yeah, sure."
Wonjin nods, quickly telling Allen he'll be right back—though Allen is currently too starstruck to even pay attention to him. He starts walking further down the corridor, until he thinks they're far enough from everyone else. He opens a door to find a tiny storage closet, going inside once he figures it can fit both of them.
Hyeongjun enters right after, closing the door and leaning his back against it. "So?"
"Uhm," Wonjin presses his hands together. "How's your eye?"
"It's healing," he says, crossing his arms. "Why? You came to finish the job? Thought it was better to blind me in both eyes?"
"That's not what I..." Wonjin sighs. "Listen, I'm sorry about what I did. I'm an idiot. But I really need this to stay just between us."
Hyeongjun moves away from the door.
"Excuse me?"
Wonjin scowls. "What?"
"Are you fucking with me right now?"
"No, of course I'm not. I'm asking you a favor. I can't risk losing everything I worked so hard for—"
Hyeongjun's face contorts into what Wonjin can only describe as disgust.
"You're fucking unbelievable," he barks out. "First you punch me out of fucking nowhere—"
Loud footsteps start approaching the storage closet. Wonjin quickly grabs Hyeongjun by the wrist and pulls him closer. "Keep your voice down!"
Being inside the closet feels suffocating as the footsteps continue down the hall, their sound slowly fading away. They're so close that a single movement from either of them could get their noses to touch. Wonjin opens his mouth, but Hyeongjun shakes himself out of his grasp, taking a step back.
"Fuck you," he practically spits, looking Wonjin dead in the eye. "Doing all this because you can't accept someone is better than you in a fucking shooter game. Do you even know how far up your ass your head is?"
That stuns Wonjin momentarily, mouth left agape. He eventually scoffs.
"I already said I'm sorry," he raises his hands. "What else do you want me to do? Turn back time?"
He's left without a verbal response—Hyeongjun just glares at him one final time before straight up leaving. He slams the door on his way out.
It feels humiliating when it's his turn to get out of the closet, even if the corridor is almost empty by now.
"So?" Minhee asks. Funnily enough, he and Jungmo are the only ones Wonjin finds once he's back to VITY's waiting room. "How did it go?"
Wonjin puffs out his cheeks and exhales hard.
"How long do you think until they kick me out of competitive forever?"
"I really don't know what else I could've done. I did what you guys told me to," Wonjin shrugs. "I apologized!"
"Yeah, like an asshole," Minhee scoffs. He prefers to stare at the chocolate milk he's sipping on rather than at Wonjin, which says a lot. "You made this whole thing about yourself."
"What?! No, I did not."
"You kinda did, Wonjinie." Jungmo says, resting his chin on Minhee's shoulder. Minhee brings the chocolate milk carton toward him so he can also take a sip.
"I almost don't recognize you anymore," Minhee tells him, only half joking.
Wonjin groans. The truth is that he too is struggling with that—almost as if he's turned into an entire different person.
But how is that his fault? He tried to let his feelings aside and play like normal, heaven knows he did. Why would he want to fuck his team over on purpose? If anything, it's Hyeongjun's fault from managing such a reaction out of him. Maybe Wonjin should've really left him blind in both—
Whoa. Wonjin stops that train of thought before it goes off the rails and crashes and burns and transforms into something somehow even more violent.
They don't talk any more of it, as Taeyoung and Allen come back to the waiting room. Allen starts proudly showing off his autograph and then Taeyoung says something that makes Wonjin laugh, and it works as the perfect distraction from his worries. The atmosphere in the waiting room is light as they all chat and warm up before their upcoming game. CRAVE's match is playing on the TV that's mounted on the wall, though no one pays much attention to it.
Jooheon eventually comes in to tell them they'll be going up on stage soon, and also to give a final encouraging speech. He talks vaguely about keeping emotions in check, though it's obvious to everyone in the room he doesn't want anyone to repeat what Wonjin did last time. It's valuable advice, but Wonjin's cheeks still burn, especially as he remembers that Jooheon doesn't even know the full details of what went down.
They start grabbing their peripherals so they can bring them to stage. Just as Wonjin is about to leave, keyboard and mouse awkwardly balanced in his arms, he faintly hears what sounds like a post-match interview coming from the TV.
"We're here with Hyeongjun," the interviewer says. "First of all, congratulations on the win. How's your eye?"
"Thank you, thanks for having me," his audio muffles a little bit as he bows politely. "It's okay. Slowly healing."
"Ah, that's good to hear. You played so well today, it's like you were in perfect condition," she says, and they both laugh. "Do you think that affected your performance at all, or...?"
"It did concern me a little at first. We— My team didn't even want me to play today."
"Oh, really?"
"Yeah. I had to keep telling them I was fine over and over again, and even then they almost didn't believe me," he explains. "But I can see just fine. Sometimes I'll get, like, random pain spikes, but nothing too crazy."
"And did you have one of those during the match?"
"I did, actually, yes."
"And yet you looked unstoppable out there," the interviewer says, evidently impressed. "Is there any team you are excited to face in the next few weeks?"
Hyeongjun pokes his tongue out, eyes darting around as he thinks for a second. "Uhm, honestly, I really want a VITY rematch."
"A rematch!" she parrots, squeakily.
"I think our last game was really..." he licks his lips. "Something else. I think there's room for an interesting rivalry to bloom between us."
"If you had to go on a desert island and could bring only one teammate, who would you pick?"
"Well, uhm... Shit, I don't know. Sorry, that one slipped." Wonjin gives the staff behind the camera a sheepish smile as they glare at him. "Definitely not Minhee. Maybe Jungmo-hyung. But they'd rather go with each other, I'm pretty sure."
Wonjin wishes he was home right now. Hell, even being in the VITY office, watching VODs until his eyes burned, would be nicer. Instead, he's in the Riot Games studios, this time around earlier in the week than usual, being interviewed. Every once in a while, they'll fish out one member of each team and ask questions about literally anything, which will then be shown in the big screens on match breaks. A way for fans to feel closer to the players, he imagines.
He supposes that, despite being annoying, it's not the end of the world. It's nice to be asked harmless, trivial stuff over the usual questions about game mechanics, team chemistry, leader responsibilities and whatnot. A part of him had expected the absolute worst once they chose him for the interview.
"I think I'd choose Taeyoung. Nothing against Allen-hyung, but if we're considering my chances of survival..." He laughs. "Yeah. I'd pick Taeyoung."
"And do you think he would also pick you?"
"I would hope so," he says, earning a few laughs from the staff. "But I guess it's fine if he didn't. I'd be heartbroken just for a little while."
The interview eventually wraps up, and Wonjin barely contains a relieved sigh once the camera turns off. He bows to about everyone in the room, then practically rushes to the door.
Once he opens it, already dreaming of some well-deserved rest, he's startled by a figure that speeds towards the end of the corridor. Wonjin even turns around, checking if anyone else saw that, but all the staff members seem busy with their own work.
Wonjin finds himself going the opposite way of the exit, chasing after the mysterious individual. He walks and walks until he is in front of the very last door in the corridor—which, interestingly enough, is half-open. Wonjin is pretty sure that leads to a bathroom.
His curiosity would end at that, normally. It doesn't. There's something oddly inviting in the tiniest bit of light that shines through the gap. Wonjin doesn't think too hard about fighting it as he keeps his streak of poorly-made decisions going.
He almost scoffs when he finds Hyeongjun inside.
It's not surprising he was also chosen for the interview—he's a fresh new face in the VALORANT scene, capable of making a powerful impact both in and out of the game servers. Charming and witty. Riot's marketing team is probably dying to use his face in every piece of content they can until he's completely milked dry.
But those are the general public's opinions, anyway. Wonjin wouldn't personally use the word charming to describe him.
He almost scoffs. Almost, because by poking his head through the gap, he sees Hyeongjun, leaning over the sink with his eyes closed and breathing heavily.
Wonjin lets himself in. The door creaks audibly as he does so. Hyeongjun whips his head, opening his eyes but keeping them narrowed. The purple around his eye was finally starting to fade.
"You okay?"
"A lot better now," Hyeongjun deadpans. "Have you ever heard of knocking?"
Wonjin eyes him up and down. "You're shaking."
One of Hyeongjun's hands tightly grips the countertop, as if to steady himself. He stays quiet.
"Listen," Wonjin licks his lips. This situation feels familiar. "I don't know why I followed you in here. I saw you in the corridor, and the door was half-open, and—"
Hyeongjun's free hand grasps Wonjin's arm, nails digging into flesh. Wonjin grimaces. "Shut up. Please, just shut up."
Wonjin stills. He expects insults, expects being ridiculed, but Hyeongjun only forces his eyes shut, seemingly in pain with every movement he makes.
"Oh, God, it's like my head is splitting in half," he whimpers. "It hurts so bad..."
Wonjin's breath hitches when Hyeongjun, with his eyes still closed, moves closer to him and rests his forehead on his chest. It's awkward and far too intimate given how they feel about each other, though Wonjin doesn't dare to pull Hyeongjun away or even move. There's a certain dull ache in his core as it all happens.
"I should probably go get someone," he says after some time.
"Okay," Hyeongjun mumbles, slowly taking a step back.
Wonjin leaves the bathroom. It takes a bit of roaming down the hall until he ends up running into someone else who's wearing the already familiar dark purple CRAVE jersey.
"Hey, Wonjin-ah," Serim greets him. "You've seen Hyeongjun anywhere?"
"Yeah, actually." He clears his throat. "In the bathroom at the end of the hall. In pretty bad shape, too. Something about a killer headache."
Serim shakes his head. Wonjin has half a mind to wonder why he is also in the studio today.
"He's been struggling with those ever since he got that black eye," Serim sighs. "I looked it up, it could be linked to serious head injury."
Wonjin suddenly feels very, very nauseous.
The air becomes tense. Not for too long, as Serim senses it and lets out a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "But I guess it could also mean nothing. Maybe just stress. I tend to worry about the boys a lot," he says, placing a hand on Wonjin's shoulder. "Leader things, I'd say."
"Yeah," Wonjin tries to imitate him, though his laugh sounds a lot more nervous. "Leader things. Can't help it."
He takes a deep breath, inhaling until his chest hurts. Serim must've assumed his reaction was purely out of worry. Though not entirely wrong, there's no way for his fellow IGL to know that Wonjin's worry mixes with an absurdly increasing amount of guilt.
Reality starts dawning on him now. He becomes overwhelmed by this sense of dread that makes him uncomfortable in his own skin, like he's not the one meant to be wearing it—it makes him want to run and run until he's far away from all this, like that could reverse things back to how they were before.
Wonjin knew what he was doing when he punched Hyeongjun, no matter how much he tries to deny it and convince himself of the contrary. He wanted Hyeongjun to feel the same pain—or at least some portion of it—he caused Wonjin by winning that match. By getting in his head, by making him doubt his abilities.
A full-on head injury was too far, though. Too harsh. Hyeongjun could actually need to go to the hospital, possibly having to step away from competitive play for quite some time, maybe permanently. In theory, Wonjin should be happy about it. It's less stress for him. Less competition.
In reality, Wonjin feels like a monster.
"I'll see if he brought any medicine in his bag," Serim unknowingly saves Wonjin from his mental spiral by speaking up. "Or if anyone from staff has some."
"Okay, good." Wonjin nods, quite frantic. "I'll let him know."
Serim gives him a thumbs up, sprinting to find Hyeongjun's bag. Wonjin reluctantly goes the opposite direction, back to the bathroom.
Hyeongjun is sat on the tile floor, head buried between his knees.
"Hey," he doesn't enter this time, only poking his head through the door gap. Hyeongjun looks up. "Serim-hyung is looking for medicine for you. I told him you're in here."
There is a hint of relief in Hyeongjun's features once he hears Serim's name. He nods, slowly. "Okay," he replies quietly. Then, even quieter, a whisper, "Thanks."
Wonjin almost chokes. He doesn't think he's deserving of any sort of gratitude.
"Don't mention it." He shakes his head. "Hope you feel better soon."
He lacks the courage to look in Hyeongjun's eyes for too long, so he leaves. He doesn't even wait for Serim to show up with the medicine. It's probably best for Hyeongjun to recover without the reason behind the wound being around.
A defeated sigh leaves Wonjin's mouth as he messes up his hair with one hand, while the other lets go of the small notebook he uses to take notes when he's watching VODs. It lands next to him on the couch, though he has no intention of picking it back up anytime soon.
It's already Sunday. Their game of the week was yesterday—a clean 2-0 against IDID. Wonjin is grateful that he can rely on his teammates, because his individual performance has been a bit shaky recently. For obvious reasons.
He tells Jooheon he'll watch today's matches to take notes. Playoffs will soon be around the corner, and they need to be ready for all possibilities, regardless of which teams qualify. Wonjin says it so confidently, Jooheon has no reason to suspect he's lying through his teeth.
He does try to be productive at first: writing down CRAVE's tendencies during eco rounds and a few Viper lineups used by Seongmin so that he can show them to Jungmo later. There's a specific strategy they use on a certain round he would like to try for himself, but as Wonjin brings pen to paper, the production crew chooses to cut that part out in the live replay, showing Hyeongjun's up-close reaction to something else instead.
Seeing his face makes Wonjin's stomach practically flip upside down. His grip on the pen falters, and half the page becomes covered in unreadable scribbles.
Wonjin was worried. There's no other way of putting it. The seemingly very real possibility of being responsible for a head injury kept gnawing at him.
He wanted—needed—to make sure Hyeongjun was okay.
Earlier, he felt his heart on his throat when, before the match actually began, Hyeongjun had walked onto the stage wearing an eyepatch. Wonjin then froze, unconsciously biting hard on his bottom lip. Did the injury really worsen that much?
The camera zooms in a bit closer to the players, enough for Wonjin to clearly see the moment Hyeongjun takes the eyepatch off and turns to chat with Woongki, who is right beside him. He has no idea what Woongki is saying, but he is able to read Hyeongjun's lips as he raises the hand holding the eyepatch and laughs.
"I can't see anything with it on!" He says. There's loud music playing on the stage, so he enunciates every word clearly. Wonjin immediately throws his head back, letting out a huge sigh of relief.
With that explained and out of the way, he could technically turn this off and do literally anything else. Maybe tag along on one of Taeyoung's trips to the gym, or play some ranked games with Jungmo since he doesn't remember the last time they duo'd. Even so, Wonjin stays exactly where he is, as if his body is glued to the couch. He stays and watches, even if his plan of taking notes and looking for potential CRAVE flaws goes down the drain.
Wonjin watches as Hyeongjun excitedly hypes his team up and even gets up from his chair a few times to yell at the other team. Watches how he's always smiling when the camera pans over to him.
He notices, with a quickened heartbeat, that Hyeongjun might be his greatest flaw.
CRV lemon @lemonsong
2-0 vs @ZB1 :D
sorry to the fan who gifted me the eyepatch i swear i wanted to wear it for the whole match but i couldn't see shit
Wonjin is half aware of it as he gulps, staring at the two backstage pictures Hyeongjun attached to his tweet, obviously wearing the eyepatch. The match already ended, so the backflips his stomach insisted on doing should've followed right after. They don't.
His fingers begin to type.
VITY hambboi @hambboi • Replying to @lemonsong
ggs man you looked really good :)
It's the last week before playoffs.
VITY have definitely qualified, given their only loss was against CRAVE, on the very first match of the group stage. That was five weeks ago, despite how distant it feels to all of them. Wonjin thinks he feels it more than everyone else.
They return backstage after winning 2-0 against P1Harmony. Wonjin trails behind the rest of the team as they walk down the hall and reach their designed waiting room. When it's his turn to step inside, though, there is a strong grip on his arm, dragging him to further down the hallway with hurried steps. Minhee, already distant now, calls out his name.
"Hey!" Wonjin protests, unable to break free. It's as if the person doesn't even hear him.
Wonjin walks and walks, past more waiting rooms and past a handful of staff members, until he finally reaches a destination. Once again, he's in a storage closet. He's practically pushed inside, almost hitting his head on a shelf while the door gets locked behind him.
He turns around, meeting a frowning Hyeongjun.
"What the fuck is your problem?"
It's Wonjin's turn to frown. "Well, hello to you too."
"You—" Hyeongjun interrupts himself, exhaling hard. "I don't understand you. At all."
"Yeah?" Wonjin crosses his arms. "How so?"
He doesn't know why he asks when he already has a pretty big clue of what the answer will be. It's probably so he can see the way Hyeongjun's face scrunches in clear anger. It's kind of cute.
"You're an asshole," Hyeongjun says, pointing a finger at Wonjin. He twitches, wanting to bat it away, but he keeps still. "Thinking it's normal to sucker punch someone when they were just trying to talk to you. Worse of all, asking me to protect your image or whatever it was, without even giving me a proper apology."
Wonjin bites his lip to prevent himself from talking back.
"And then, what? You suddenly decide to do a 180 and start being nice? Like I'd forget everything?" Hyeongjun scoffs. "I mean, the bathroom thing was sweet. Caught me totally off guard. Anyways, long story short: you're weird and I don't know what your deal is."
Wonjin stays quiet for a bit, to make sure Hyeongjun has nothing else to add. He assumes he doesn't, as Hyeongjun just glares at him with raised eyebrows. Wonjin clicks his tongue.
"Just for the record, I don't think it's normal to go around punching people," Wonjin says. "But other than that, you're right. I'm an asshole. I'm sorry."
Hyeongjun blinks. "You're making fun of me."
"No, I'm not?!" Wonjin scowls. "Where did you even get that from?"
Wonjin feels his entire body start to buzz in a way that is just too familiar. Anger flows through his veins. Apparently, when it comes to Hyeongjun, Wonjin is always lacking. Despite his biggest efforts, whatever he decides to do is never the right approach.
He pushes his palm heels into his eyes in order to not do something stupid again.
"See, that's the problem: I also don't know what your fucking deal is." Wonjin groans. "Do you seriously think I'm proud of what I did? That I'm some stupid, selfish brute? Is that it?"
Wonjin ignores how he was, in fact, selfish in the beginning. The words just keep coming out of his mouth without time for him to really filter his thoughts.
"I'm trying to make things better," he continues. "And I'm sorry. I really am."
"You don't sound sorry."
"Then I don't know what else to tell you," Wonjin sighs. "How does a sorry person sound to you, then?"
Hyeongjun doesn't answer, which makes it even more infuriating. Wonjin uses all his self control to not give him another bruise. His fist twitches.
Taking deep breaths to calm down, Wonjin has an idea. One that he hates and thinks it's ridiculous and absurd and it's the only thing he can come up with. And it might work.
He makes sure Hyeongjun is still attentively looking at him before he lowers his head and gets down on his knees. Hyeongjun lets out a confused, choked sound.
"I'm sorry," he repeats for what feels like the billionth time. His eyes are at first glued to the floor, until he realizes Hyeongjun might find a way to complain about that too. They lock eyes, and Wonjin unconsciously digs his nails into his covered knees. "Sorry that I got so angry at myself I took it out by punching you, sorry for having my head so far up my ass I thought about myself first instead of worrying about you."
Hyeongjun's eyebrows quirk just the tiniest bit, but he doesn't interrupt. Wonjin continues.
"Sorry that I tried making things better between us by helping with your headache and complimenting you on Twitter, even if those were my real honest feelings. And I'm sorry that I'm practically throwing all my dignity away just so I can have a chance of you forgiving me."
He's breathless by the time he's done talking. Hyeongjun's heavy gaze could be a helping factor, too.
"So? Are you happy now?" Wonjin manages to say. "Can we let this go and say we're even?"
"Oh," Hyeongjun finally says, a hint of a smile on his face. Wonjin figures it's a way nicer view when compared to his angry frown. Charming, as the netizens would say. "Sure, I suppose. We will be."
Wonjin furrows his eyebrows at such a choice of words, but doesn't dwell on them for very long as Hyeongjun takes a big step forward—which gets him alarmingly close, given the position Wonjin is in right now. Wonjin thinks of protesting, but one of Hyeongjun's hands travels to his chin, tilting his face up so they're really making eye contact with each other. He's met with that smirk again, the one he saw all the way across the stage five weeks ago. The one that's essentially responsible for everything that's transpired so far.
Wonjin feels his heart pounding loud on his ears, almost thundering. He figures it's because of the absurd level of humiliation he's going through, and not because he actually cares about having Hyeongjun's forgiveness.
The grip on his chin tightens. Right as Wonjin opens his mouth to complain about it, he sees it—Hyeongjun's other hand, balled into a fist, moving forward with increasing speed.
Wonjin blacks out.