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yutafrita · 1 year

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The Eternal Tragedy- CHAPTER ONE

Chapter ONE/ TWO/ THREE/ FOUR/ P/ B

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ARE YOU LIVING IN THE REAL WORLD?

Pairing(s): Mafia!Yuta x Reader, Mafia!Sungchan x Reader Reader Pronouns: She/ Her Genre: Angst, Sci-Fi, Fantasy Chapter Word Count: 7.4K Warnings: Graphic violence, swearing, blood, alcohol, references to catastrophic sci-fi events Masterlist

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Goeun had spent the night at your apartment. While she didn’t live so far from the club, you lived closer enough for her to stay once a week at your place. You two had been friends since high school, so you loved the familiar company and she loved not having to take a subway to work.

“Those shoes are so cute,” Goeun gushed as she watched you jam your feet into a pair of platform sneakers. The platform sneakers were a good compromise between sneakers and heels. The patrons tipped just as well when you had them on as if you had on heels, and your feet weren’t swollen at the end of the night.

“Thanks! I don’t know how Irene can get through an entire shift in heels,” you admitted. You stood up tall now by your front door, watching as Goeun rushed to finish her makeup and pack everything neatly into her backpack. As she did, she glanced above your head and stifled a laugh. You didn’t have to turn around to know that she was laughing at your diploma- she did it every time.

“Who would think that someone with a degree in accounting from the best school on Mars, would be a waitress?”

You frowned, “you know damn well I make more money at this job than I ever did as an accountant. I could even get accentors if I wanted to.”

Your job catered to the richest and strangest of Nuevo Seoul, so you had seen it all. From grotesque additions like tiger canines, to fierce additions- like Irene’s cat claws. You personally could never justify the expensive, painful procedure. People may be rich, but even they couldn’t avoid the pain that comes with requiring your nerves to attach themselves to a body part not meant for humans.

“All right, let’s get to work!” Goeun spoke in a sing-song voice as you opened your door to start the walk to The Garden.

Your apartment was what your grandfather left for you when he died. It was in the only apartment complex on the block that wasn’t hundreds of floors high.

It was at the heart of Nuevo Seoul, Mars, and the sidewalk bustled with people. Most importantly for you though, it was a five minute walk to your job. The alleyway that held the club’s employee entrance was full of street vendors, and as per usual you handed the woman making coffee a five dollar bill.

“The usual for both of you?” Taeyeon asked, her silver face chain contrasting with the dirty wall her booth stood in front of.

“Please,” you and Goeun hummed, nodding at the other vendors and patrons that passed you.

“Irene just arrived a few minutes ago for her shift,” Taeyeon hummed, pouring your coffee slowly. “The new kid is here too.”

“New kid?”

Taeyeon nodded, “tall kid with little mouse ears,” her nail tapped the crown of her head as she sharply placed the lid on the coffee cup. “Try not to break him,” she teased, handing you and Goeun your coffees.

“If it were up to her, she wouldn’t even breathe near him. Thanks,” Goeun taunted before you both to Taeyeon. Walking further through the alleyway, you greeted the guard that stood at the back entrance of the club and where the waitstaff’s dressing room was set. Considering the sheer skimpyness of some of the waitstaffs outfits, most elected to arrive to work in comfortable clothes, only changing upon arrival into the dressing room.

“They’re here!” Chaein immediately cheered upon your entrance, looking away from her dressing mirror for a moment to fully see you two.

The Garden was owned by the Dragon Syndicate. This you had never been outright told but was extremely obvious- from the Dragon tattoos on different men in the club, to the incredibly obvious illegal business dealings you would see, the Dragons had their mark all over the place. It was everything you didn’t want to directly work with, but they paid your bills, so you kept your head down, and worked as a waitress.

“Hello!” Goeun cheered as you quietly greeted your coworkers, moving past Irene and Seulgi as you went to your own tiny workstation. While you didn’t necessarily have to dress up for work, you all would be fools to not notice that you got better tips when you did. Sliding out of your sweatpants, the jean shorts you had on underneath came out in full force.

“Those shorts again?” Seulgi sighed, her own black bodysuit fully exposed.

“I need to do laundry,” you pouted. Seulgi was always encouraging you to try and dress as skimpy as she did, but you couldn’t ever do so. Looking past Seulgi, the beaded curtain that stood between you all and the club saw a clipboard attached to a familiar arm slide through it. The beads of the curtains clinked as the arms owners tried to gain everyone’s attention, earning chuckles from you all.

“Come in Shotaro!” Irene called as you quickly touched up your lipstick after chugging your coffee.

The beaded curtain parted and in walked the bar’s supervisor and the only member of the syndicate you actively spoke with. Despite him being in charge of the syndicate’s primary flow of barely legal money and having to help control the occasional unruly patrons, Shotaro always carried a boyish grin on his face.

“We open our doors in ten minutes! So, really quick- Seulgi and Irene, you’ll be bartending tonight,” the pair gave each other a high five, “Chaein, and Goeun will be managing the high tops and poker tables,” Shotaro marked something on his clipboard quickly, his eyes glancing up to you.

“Shit,” you muttered. There were only three areas in the tiny club to be maintained, and with only you left, you knew exactly where you were stuck.

“You, y/n, will be managing the Dragon’s Den tonight but also,” Shotaro lifted his free hand, and through the beaded wall a lanky young man was dragged into the room. You often tried to ignore the dragon tattoo on Shotaro’s wrist, but you couldn’t look past the one on this boy- it was fresh still, wrapped in shiny plastic and seared red. “Jisung will be training with you today. The boss wants him to learn all of the ropes so I want him working at the Dragon’s Den with you.”

“He looks like he could be in elementary school,” Irene snarled, her cat claws perfectly juxtaposing Jisung’s tiny mouse-like ears.

“I’m 21,” the young man countered, earning a laugh from everyone in the room.

The Garden Club and Lounge was an uncomfortable, tight space, although Shotaro insisted it was ‘intimate.’ It held two levels- the dimly lit balconies that housed the several illegal gambling games. They all were framed by open curtains that could quickly be shut if any cops swung by. The first level contained the bar that Irene and Seulgi were setting up behind with Shotaro making sure the pair had all they needed.

“Um… where is the Dragon’s Den?” Jisung snapped you out of your thoughts, and he watched Goeun and Chaein organize the high tops that sat around the bar. You sighed and looked at the small, curtained off hallway next to the bar, the stupid velvet curtain waiting to ensnare you.

“We’ll be going in and out of here,” you guided the mouse into the Dragon’s Den, opening the curtain and watching his eyes widen. This was where the members of the syndicate and other thick walleted businessmen were seated usually- with the extremely intimate three booth layout, large television screen, fireplace, and gold lining the walls and high (tinted) windows, Jisung’s starry eyes reminded you just how obscene the place was.

“Will the boss be here?” Jisung asked you, watching as some staff finished fluffing the pillows in the room.

You shrugged. “Shotaro’s my boss.”

“Oh, the boss of this place is-,” you shot Jisung a glare and he stopped speaking.

“I didn’t ask,” you silenced the young man.

The first hour of the night was as normal as it could be- you welcomed the VIPs, watched Jisung constantly trip over his feet, and kept the patrons smiling despite the pit of anxiety you felt. Speaking with more members of the syndicate meant that they knew you- and you feared sinking deeper and deeper into the syndicate’s clutches.

“How’s the kid?” Seulgi asked you as she expertly poured the drinks you needed. You shrugged.

“Because of him they’re talking to me even more.” Your customers had taken to asking you how Jisung was doing, if you liked working there, and you had done your best to politely answer each question- being rude wasn’t something you ever liked, especially when your money was on the line. “Jisung’s in the bathroom now.”

“Last time a new kid from the syndicate was shown the ropes he became our manager,” Irene interjected, reaching over Seulgi to pass a drink to another patron. “He runs this place well but dammit- Shotaro’s just too nice.”

“As far as we know he’s nice,” Seulgi corrected, handing you a serving tray filled with glasses. “Keep your tits out if you want tips,” she lightly scolded before you went on your way, catching Jisung’s eye as he waited for you by the velvet curtain.

“They were asking for you,” he noted as you entered, forcing a smile as you did.

“There she is!” your third booth cheered as you arrived with their second round for the night. Due to Jisung’s presence, you knew a few of their names already- the loud one reaching out for you now being Johnny (who was also the only one without any accentors). The one next to him had his cheeks flushed pink from the alcohol, his wolf ears twitching as he giggled- you heard someone call him Jaemin.

Moving away, your second booth hardly acknowledged you as you took their empty glasses and moved towards the first table. It was this first table that gave you pause.

Jisung shot you a nervous look as you smiled at Shotaro and the man he was seated across from. You had seen the man with the fox ears and fox tail several times, but never did you speak directly with him. He simply hovered around the club as other syndicate members seemed to do on occasion.

“Hi Shotaro! Do you guys need anything?” you smiled, earning a surprised look from your boss. The other man looked up at you and your blood ran cold. Your eyes had never set on a face quite as handsome as his- his features perfectly complemented each other and his bleached blonde hair framed his face in an oddly angelic halo.

“… water.”

“I’m sorry?” you brought yourself back down to Mars, hoping the dimmed lighting would hide the embarrassment you felt at missing his words.

“Just water,” he was curt and turned his attention back to Shotaro. Before you could turn back around, Jisung had appeared with a full glass in his shaky hands. He slid the glass over to the fox-man, earning a small smirk. “Looks like you’re teaching him well.”

You blinked. “This was the first time he hasn’t spilled something all night.” You widen your eyes in surprise. Did I just say that? You internally scolded yourself. At yours and Shotaro’s shock, the fox-eared man chuckled, his smile seeming to put you under a spell as you stared at him.

“You’re funny,” he patted the empty spot next to him, “take a seat.”

“Uhh… I should get back to work,” you looked with pleading eyes at Shotaro, hoping your boss would protest. Instead, Shotaro looked out of the tinted window next to him.

“I insist,” the foxman smiled again, revealing a set of canines instead of molars. “Have Jisung manage on his own for a few minutes.”

You clenched your jaw, and quietly handed the young mouse the tray in your hands. Five minutes. You glanced at the clock above the mantel. Five minutes.

“So, how long have you been working here for?” his finger traced the rim of his previously untouched glass. You avoided his gaze and looked at Shotaro who was still staring out at the window.

“Two years,” your voice hardly above a whisper, and with the loud tables behind you it was a wonder the fox could even hear you. A part of you- a part that you were ashamed of- wanted to know his name rather than just call him by his accentors. He was obviously high up in the syndicate if he managed to afford ears, a tail, and a set of canines on top of his already lavish clothes.

“Shotaro,” the fox called your boss’s attention, his eyes snapping back quickly. “What’s her name?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “I’m right here.”

At this the fox man turned fully towards you and lifted an eyebrow, “would you have told me the truth if I asked?” He had a point, and you turned your gaze away as Shotaro told him your name.

“I’m Yuta,” he introduced himself, and you suppressed the cringe you felt within yourself. Tonight alone you had learned the identities of four more syndicate members- too many.

“Nice to meet you,” you were polite. You knew your safest option was to be polite despite how desperately you wanted to run out of that booth.

“Hmm, you’re a bad liar,” he hummed, and you couldn’t help the glare you shot up at him. He was intrigued, this was obvious by the way he had his gaze fixated on you.

“I feel like I interrupted something important,” you tried, looking towards Shotaro again.

“You didn’t,” your boss seemed to sigh as if he was defeated already, and you widened your eyes at this. You turned your wide eyes into a glare, and were so focused on mentally popping Shotaro’s head you almost didn’t notice the stack of bills placed on the table in front of you.

“I think this should cover my tab,” Yuta sounded content as he watched you lift the hundreds to count.

“You only got a shot of whiskey and glass of water,” you noted, already moving to remove the unnecessary bills and planning how you would get change out of the register. Yuta’s hand moved and covered both of yours.

“Keep it,” he watched your shocked face, and you could tell that he seemed to relish this. You noted the dragon tattoo wrapped around his wrist, its mouth turned towards you as his hand held both of yours.

“… Thank you sir,” you settled on a polite smile as you scooted out of the booth with the cash now tucked inside your small waist apron.

The rest of the night was fine for the most part. A few other patrons with their accentors tried chatting you up, Jisung continuously tripped over his feet, and Seulgi would chastise you, but nothing you considered out of the ordinary. After work that night, you started your walk to your apartment with the rest of the wait staff.

“I can’t believe you’ve been here for two years and you just met Yuta,” Irene was the most shocked when you spoke about your big tipper.

You shrugged. “I usually avoid working the booths.”

“I don’t know why, they usually tip the best,” Goeun noted, tightening her winter coat as they stopped outside of your apartment complex. Along with being at the heart of the city, you also had your apartment right by a train station which the rest of the team took to go home. You waved goodbye and entered your apartment complex, making your way up the short two flights of stairs and into your humble abode.

The apartment probably was beautiful in 2060, but now, the wallpaper was peiling, your ceiling fan worked only if you tugged the cord just right, and the creaking of the wooden floorboards were loud enough to be heard through the walls. You quickly shut your three locks before you moved to the bathroom.

You lifted the lid from the back of your toilet and exposed the ziploc bag filled with cash you had there. Here, you shoved a good chunk of your tips for the night in, and smiled as you did so. Thanks to Yuta’s contribution, you were that much closer to your goal.

It was nearing four in the morning and you sighed, placing the lid back where it belongs. Saturdays and Fridays were the clubs biggest money nights, and you were excited to have the day off tomorrow. After you showered and tucked yourself in, you found yourself that night dreaming of the same place your dreams usually took you to.

Earth was declared uninhabitable decades before you were born, but every school in the solar system made sure to discuss the planet fully. The beauty of the vast oceans and a planet actually meant for humans was incredible to you. While Mars was often noted to be the next best thing, you wondered what it must be like to go to a park not filled with red dust. So every night, your dreams took you to earth.

You were in a field of sunflowers, staring up at the blue sky. It was a cloudless day, and you wandered the field with a smile on your face as your hands caressed the flowers.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

You stopped moving, your head jerking around in an attempt to locate the sound. For miles as far as the eye could see- it was just you in the field surrounded by sunflowers.

Tick-tock. Tick-Tock. Tick-Tock.

Trembling, you forced your gaze downward, eyes wide as you saw the large clock that was now at your feet. You clumsily bent down, picking up the clock and dusting off the dirt that somehow got on it. The arms of the clock were composed of two sets of golden keys, the face being a solid black. You stared at your reflection on the cover of the clock.

“What is this doing here?” you muttered. You glanced up at the sky, distraught to see the once cloudless sky was now filled with an endless gray, thunder broiling in the distance.

“How many times?” a voice asked. Panicked, you looked back at the clock, seeing a new reflection behind you.

“Yuta?” you cried out, turning around to see the fox man now covered in blood. “Oh my god, what happened?” Angrily, he grabbed your face, the blood soaking your cheeks.

“How many times do we all have to die before this suffering ends?” he shouted, his eyes wet with tears like the ones you were now crying.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” you shouted back, trying to break free from the man’s grasp. Yuta looked up, forcing your head to do the same.

“Sungchan! We’re here!” Yuta shouted, a maniacal laugh booming from him. That was the lightning struck, and you awoke in a cold sweat.

The red light of the sun was bleeding through the small window of your bedroom and you groaned, flipping onto your side in an attempt to fall back asleep. You may not have to work today, but you knew you had a plethora of errands you had been avoiding- and the thought of the ever growing list made it nearly impossible for you to fall back asleep.

“God dammit,” you huffed. Begrudgingly, you slinked out of bed. You slowly made your way to the bathroom, slogging through your standard morning routine. You weren’t much of a morning person, and knowing that your day would primarily be filled with errands didn’t make you want to get ready any faster. Luckily, you had your best friend to run them with today.

Goeun stood outside your apartment complex, her outfit relaxed despite still being incredibly fashionable.

“What’s first on the agenda?” she asked.

“Did you bring your goggles? There’s supposed to be a dust storm today,” you pointed out, showing her the plastic goggles you had in your own purse. Mars’ dust storms were more of a nuisance than anything to those like you who were born on the planet, but most citizens wouldn’t be caught outside without at least some form of eye protection.

“Of course,” Goeun soothed, showing her own pair. You two started towards the grocery store that sat a few blocks between your place and her own.

“Oh, do you remember Mark from high school?” Goeun asked.

“The one in the baseball team?”

“Yeah, well he just got drafted for the Solar Major League.”

“Wow, good for him,” you whistled. “Two waitresses aren’t a topic that will be covered at our high school reunion, that’s for sure.”

“Oh please, we weren’t gonna go anyways,” she laughed. The bell to the grocery store chimed as you entered. Like most grocery stores you went to, it was just for normal citizens of Mars- no accentors or excessive displays of wealth to be seen. You and Goeun were the only ones in the waitstaff to not have any form for accentors, even Chaein recently got a set of cat claws. So, you both felt wonderfully average for once.

“It’s not like I liked my old job anyways,” you admitted.

“I knew you would hate accounting.”

“I was hoping to get a job in forensic accounting, though. That’s what my Masters’ is in,” you defended. You enjoyed a good puzzle, and forensic accounting, despite you hating accounting itself, acted as a fascinating puzzle for you. But, no police departments were hiring, you were miserable as an accountant, and Goeun kept reminding you that her job was hiring. It was a no-brainer for you to work at the Garden, at least at that point.

“Remember when you said you’d only work there for two months?” Goeun teased.

You rolled your eyes. “Excuse me for not wanting to be stared at like an object forever.”

“Hey, it pays your bills,” Goeun reminded you.

“True,” you muttered, packing up the dandelion you grabbed from the produce isle. When humans first colonized Mars, dandelions were the first crop that could not only grow, but grow in large droves. Your grandpa swore the weed was magic since not only could it feed the people of Mars, but every part of it was edible. You just liked that it was cheap, and didn’t taste like shit. “You know, the price of water went up again in my block.”

“Mine too,” Goeun sighed. The two of you lamented on your bills as you finished collecting your groceries, walking out of the store with wrists wrapped in bags filled with food.

******

Taeyeon noticed a drag in your step as you maneuvered through the back alley towards her stand.

“What’s got you down?”

“Are any of us ever really up?”

“I’m sure you have many folks that are,” she teased as she handed you your coffee. You took a small sip and furrowed your eyebrows. “There’s another coffee bean shortage honey. The Neptune moons are still struggling with some of their greenhouse cities so the rest of the solar system is paying for it.”

“Did you at least add caffeine to the dandelion tea?” your voice was whiny. You could hardly get yourself to go to work. Tonight was a themed night, and you were dreading putting on your stupid costume. All you had to look forward to was Taeyeon’s coffee and even that the universe seemed to want to take away from you.

“Of course,” she smiled.

You took out the cash from your back pocket and handed it over to her, “thanks, Taeyeon.”

Entering the dressing room, you noted how you were the first one in. Quickly, you changed from your sweatpants into your costume for the night.

Shotaro swore that maid night was adorable, and with how he behaved, you knew he was sincere- especially since he too would dress in a colorful butler outfit to compliment you all. Yet, every few months when you’d have to slide on the stupid, short, frilly costume, you could feel the embarrassment rise in your cheeks.

Tips will be great tonight. Tips will be great tonight… You repeated this mantra until every bit of the constricting costume was on.

You began to touch up your makeup, listening as the beaded curtain rustled. You didn’t move, thinking for a moment that it was Shotaro.

“I used to think these themed nights were silly,” your head spun quickly towards the man at the beaded curtain. Your mind reeled. This was a man you had never seen at the club before, yet he entered the backroom as if he owned the place. You glanced quickly at his wrist, seeing the red dragon tattoo. “But oh my, you are utterly enchanting.”

“Sir, the sign says employees only,” you stayed calm, your hand moving slowly to behind the mirror where you stash your emergency knife. You all had one behind your mirror or under the counters, just in case something were to ever go awry.

“Hm, I would say being the owner of this club makes me an employee, no?”

You froze. “Owner?”

His tattoo. His dark wings that shimmered in the dim lighting. The deer antlers that stood like a crown on his head. The fact that the security guards seemed to just let him in with no questions asked.

There was a scuffle outside the door that was beyond the normal sound of the street vendors- it was the rest of the waitstaff arguing with the security guard. You could hear Seulgi threatening to kick his ass, and in most other circumstances, you’d chuckle. You looked back at the man a few feet in front of you, a chill racing up your spine as he surveyed you.

“I already told Shotaro- you’ll be assigned to my booth tonight,” he turned on his heel to leave.

“I am not working the dragon’s den tonight,” your fists were clenched as you spoke. You felt anger at your core. You refused to be dragged around like a doll by these men no matter their status, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to pretend to be polite this time.

He smiled, and you ignored the way his eyes beamed at you. It was as if he was proud that you spoke out against him. “You aren’t working the dragon’s den. You’re only working my booth that happens to be in the dragon’s den.”

You were dumbfounded, and watched as he knocked on the back door before exiting through the beaded curtain.

“Ugh! Finally!” Irene shouted as the door finally opened. Light spilled in along with the rest of the waitstaff, all now rushing to finish their makeup and costumes for the night.

“How come you were able to be here?” Goeun shuffled quickly in front of the mirror next to you.

“I… who’s the owner of the club? He was here.” Despite you keeping your voice low, a hush fell over the group.

“Sungchan? Sungchan was here?” Seulgi hissed, her bunny tail twitching as she seemed to be too scared to turn back to look at you. You breathed in deeply, fighting the tightness of the dress and the panic welling inside you now.

“Yeah, he was here,” you confirmed. There was a jostle at the beaded curtain again, and there you all saw Shotaro’s clipboard.

“Ladies!” he cheered, walking in despite not getting a response. He paused upon seeing the silence that befell his team. “Geez, did someone die?”

“Sungchan swung by,” Irene snapped. This caught Shotaro’s attention as he flipped through his clipboard, muttering an obscenity as he yanked up a sticky note.

“Shit, okay. Irene, I’ll be working the bar with you tonight. Seulgi, you’re managing the second level with Chaein, and Goeun you’ll be with Jisung working the booths,” he spoke quickly, scrambling as he rearranged whatever plan he originally had.

“Where’s y/n?” Goeun asked, her hand instinctively reaching back to grasp yours.

“She’ll be working only one of the VIP booths tonight, but I think she already knew this,” Shotaro shot you a knowing look. “Fifteen until opening, let’s get set up.”

You had a horrible feeling of dread. You stood by the velvet curtains, staring at the watch on your wrist slowly tick by. Irene moved from the counter towards you as the bar was set to open in five minutes, her hand moving to your shoulder.

“If he tries anything, leave. If you need help afterwards, I am here for you,” her eyes plead with you. Despite her sharp cat claws and her hard exterior, you knew her heart was made of gold- she wanted the best for those around her, and this moment you were never more grateful to her.

“Thank you,” you smiled, meaning it. She nodded, gliding back to her station as her small skirt bounced gracefully.

You smoothed your clammy hands over your skirt and pulled back the curtain. Goeun had two full booths, leaving Jisung to balance the less rowdy one as she easily handled the group of men you dealt with the other night. The third table sat Sungchan by himself, his fingers tracing over the menu he held.

“Good evening sir and welcome to the Garden,” you forced that same smile you always used on your customers. You were stuck serving this one table until he left, and your ziploc bag wasn’t going to be full enough for anything unless you got tipped well.

“I’m sure you know my name, no need to call me sir,” he set the menu down. You tightened your jaw.

“I’ll say yours if you say mine,” you knew he knew your name, but you didn’t know how beyond the fact that he seemed to sign off on your paycheck. He smiled, his eyes beaming again as he seemed to adore the almost taunting way you addressed him. It was strange- for the way people seemed to react to him, you did not anticipate the smile and doting way he watched you.

“You are quite funny,” he slid the menu towards you. “Whatever Irene feels like making is fine with me. Feel free to order anything you want, of course.” You paused on your writing of his tab.

“Sorry?”

“Your drink. You do drink, right?”

“Not while I’m working, sir.”

“Ah, responsible,” he chuckled. There was a small tumble beside you as Jisung appeared with a bottle of wine in his shaky hands, his elbows brushing up against yours.

“From the boys over there, sir,” Jisung kept his voice steady as he set the bottle and wine glass down. Sungchan didn’t turn to look at the men who were standing up in their seats to gain his thanks. Rather, Sungchan shot the young mouse a glaring look.

“One step to your right,” Sungchan’s voice was commanding. It was a complete shift from the tone he used with you. The nervous Jisung clumsily moved over, his elbow no longer brushing yours. “Good, that’s your only warning. Tell the boys thank you and please bring me another glass.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, but moved quickly away from the booth and into the club space, painfully aware of the brush of air your thighs were meeting thanks to your achingly short skirt. The club was alive with rich patrons flaunting their wealth and throwing money to their servers while others in the upper floors snuck money to each other in exchange for vials or small baggies.

“Get me a rum and coke plus a Shirley Martian, Shotaro,” you handed your boss the tab and leaned against the now busy bar top.

“Sungchan hates rum and coke,” Shotaro froze as he eyed the paper. “Just grab a bottle of Soju from the back and I’ll make that mocktail now.”

“Aye aye, Captain,” you shouted as you slid behind the bar top to the fridge, quickly snatching up a bottle of soju and a shot glass. After you collected the second drink, you maneuvered your way past the velvet curtain, only to be stunned by the sight in front of you.

The man on the floor was easily twice the muscle mass of Sungchan, but the deer held the buff man steadfast with simply the bottom of his dress shoe.

“Ah, there she is now. What is it you have to say for yourself?” Sungchan’s eyes were wild, his hands shoved into his pockets as if holding this man down was an easy feat.

“I… I’m sorry!” the man sobbed, and you noted the small pool of blood forming on the ground near his swollen lips. Your eyes were wide, horrified at not only the brutal display of aggression but the fact that the other patrons were turning their heads in fear, keeping quiet as to not meet the same fate.

Sungchan dug his heel deeper into the man’s neck, earning a grunt of pain. “For what? What are you fucking sorry for?” It was eerie to you just how volatile and angry Sungchan sounded, when moments ago he seemed to be doting on you.

“For calling her a slut for having her ass hanging out of that skirt!” The man was sobbing at this point, and you were too stunned still by the way Sungchan kept him pinned. You almost ignored the blatant assholery the man displayed.

“What do you say? Should I let him go?” Sungchan’s eyes were wild still, his wide eyes turning up towards you as if you were more interesting than the groveling man under his heel.

The velvet curtain behind you was pulled and a figure appeared next to you. “Boss, you said you weren’t going to beat any guests today.” Yuta sounded tired, his fox ears twitching as he looked sadly at the scene before him.

Sungchan frowned, glaring at the seemingly insubordinate fox. With another strong bout of pressure, Sungchan removed his foot from the sobbing patron. “Get him out of here, Yuta.”

“Of course, sir,” Yuta confirmed, and without sparing you another glance he whispered, “you look adorable.”

You moved to the side as Yuta yanked the man onto his feet, escorting him outside of the back lounge area. Sungchan did a number on him- both of his eyes were bruised and swollen, his nose was clearly broken, and it hurt to even spare a glance at his bleeding lip. Despite this, the man shot you a glare as he was forced past you.

The rest of the lounge began speaking again as if this was a normal occurrence, not at all bothered by the pool of blood you had to step over to set the drinks down. You squeezed the soju bottle as you attempted to hide your shaking hands.

“I hope the soju is fine. If not, here’s a Shirley Martian,” you set the glass down, avoiding his gaze and staring intently at the drinks. “Can I get you anything else, sir?”

He tsked, and you felt your anxiety rising with every breath you took.

“Sorry I’m late, boss,” Yuta brushed past you, and you didn’t miss the glare that flashed across Sungchan’s eyes. Yuta sat in the booth across Sungchan and smiled your way. “Could you grab me some napkins?”

You nodded, ignoring the blood he had on his hands as you handed him the napkins you kept in your waist apron.

Without turning his gaze from Yuta, Sungchan snapped, “sit.”

There was an awkward pause, and Yuta looked over at you with an expression that mirrored your confused one. Sungchan too turned to look at you, his gaze softening immediately.

“Sit, please,” he repeated, visibly straining to be polite. You tightened your lips and looked at the pair sitting opposite each other, both seemingly fixated on where you were going to sit.

Reminding yourself of the fact that this was Sungchan’s club and he was the one who requested your assistance tonight, you sat on the same side as him, albeit as far away from him as you possibly could. Despite this, you didn’t miss the twinkle in Sungchan’s eyes as you did so.

“What’s up, boss?” Yuta turned his attention back to Sungchan. It was strange to you. Sungchan was visibly younger than the fox, yet Yuta observed and listened to Sungchan with an incredible amount of respect.

“You know how Kun requested to focus on our… legal areas rather than our financial area?” Sungchan leaned back in the booth, opening the bottle of wine and pouring a glass slowly. He slid the glass to Yuta who nodded. “That means we have quite a large gap in our accounting and finances department.”

Shit. You maintain your composure, having looked away from the pair and towards the ceiling as if the small golden details were the most interesting thing on the planet.

Yuta, however, didn’t seem to understand what the deer was getting at. “I thought you were considering Shotaro for the job? He has a finance background afterall.”

You didn’t see Sungchan, but you could imagine that he rolled his eyes judging by what his follow up was, “it’s in business. We need someone with a vast pool of knowledge in accounting.”

There was a lull in conversation again, and you could feel two sets of eyes on you. You gulped and looked back at the pair who were both focusing on you intently.

“Do you need more drinks?” you asked, failing to hide the bite in your tone.

“When you ran a background check, what is it you saw under her file?” Sungchan leaned his elbows on the table, fully turning so he could watch you squirm in your seat.

“The lady here has a Masters in Forensic Accounting,” Yuta chirped.

“I don’t know anything about accounting,” it was a bold move to lie especially when they knew better, but you didn’t care. “And why are you running background checks on me?”

“We need to be sure our employees don’t come from unsavory backgrounds,” Sungchan defended. “Your salary would double, of course.”

“Most of my income isn’t reliant on my salary. I work off of tips,” you clarified, annoyed by his arrogance. “Plus… I hate accounting,” you hissed. You excelled in your classes, but it didn’t mean you had any passion for it. You disliked your current job, but it paid you enough to not care about the fact that it was part of the body of the syndicate. Working as an accountant directly for the syndicate would become the embodiment of everything you detest.

“Fine, three times your salary,” Sungchan spoke nonchalantly, and even Yuta didn’t blink at the sudden increase. “And if you want you can work as a waitress here whenever you want extra cash.”

“Wow, I’d be allowed to do more work. How kind,” your voice was dripping with sarcasm, and you fully faced Sungchan with your arms crossed.

“She’s got a point,” Yuta chuckled before a small thud sound followed. Yuta’s face contorted in pain and he reached down to his leg, making Sungchan smirk. You almost couldn’t believe how childish they were. Sungchan was irritated and decided the best course of action was to just… kick Yuta under the table. Like a toddler.

“Four times your base salary, and you only need to work 30 hours a week,” Sungchan offered. You pressed your lips tightly together. Now this was an enticing offer. You’d be making much more than you did even with tips, and you would have to work far less.

But, you still couldn’t stomach the thought of working for the syndicate. Especially handling their finances, you would be too entrenched to not be implicated should shit go south. As a waitress, you made sure to know as little as possible- you never asked for names, you left as soon as your shift was over and you stayed in your lane. You could easily cut ties. As their accountant though, you didn’t have that luxury.

You were silent before you shook your head. “I don’t think that would be wise, sir.”

There was a silence that had fallen between the two of you, Yuta casually sipping his wine as he seemed to enjoy the scene before him. “He’s not used to people saying no to him.”

“I don’t want to be in this town forever, and I don’t want to be so tied to the syndicate,” you didn’t know why you felt so compelled to defend yourself. Maybe it was the fact that both of these men could easily kill you and get away with it, or just the way Sungchan was observing you.

“Interesting. Well, the offer will still stand and sooner or later,” Sungchan smiled, “you’ll take it.”

******

Taeyeon was fuming. She burst into the garden, ignoring the guards as she shoved her way through the crowd and into the dragon’s den. Taeyeon knew you had this particular day off. It was empty tonight sans for three members of the syndicate- the exact members Taeyeon needed to give an earful to. There wouldn’t be another day that Taeyeon would be able to chastise them that you wouldn’t be around, albeit as far as her brother could see.

The members however, stared back at her with a blank, confused expression. Johnny had traveled from Mercury to have a night out with Hendery, and Jaemin before the rest of their friends returned from their business trips and before they were to all meet with their boss.

“Who the fuck are you?” Jaemin asked, raising an eyebrow as he tried to study Taeyeon. Jaemin served as the syndicate’s medic and emergency surgeon.

“Don’t you sell coffee in the alley? Who let you in here?” Johnny was getting up from the booth, ready to scold the staff since Yuta wasn’t there that night to do it himself. Johnny ran the brothels on Mars as well as managed the syndicate’s bar on Mercury- him being able to recognize Taeyeon at all would be impressive if she was not so irritated.

“You will all always be idiots,” Taeyeon chided, rushing forward and raising her hands. She usually didn’t like having to cheat and return their memories- it is, after all, a part of the curse- but this was dire. The three men froze, their eyes rolling back as their memories from the past thousands of years returned in an instant. “She should be dead!” Taeyeon wasn’t necessarily angry about you not being dead, she was more confused above all else. Taeyeon was only able to see the past and its effect on the present- but at this point, you would typically have been killed. This was different.

“… you cursed us and you’re mad that your curse isn’t working perfectly?” Hendery glared at Taeyeon, his full memories now restored.

“I didn’t curse you- you assholes know it was my brother,” she snapped.

“You’re all the fates, so it’s your fault too,” Johnny had lifted the spoon on the table, taking to combing his hair and admiring himself. Jaemin was silent, staring down at the table as he mulled through his shifting reality, his wolf-ears twitching.

“You are all imbeciles,” she moved closer to the table slowly, hissing as she did so, “if she doesn’t die soon, that leaves you with two options-.”

“Either the curse gets lifted or she just gets killed by him later and we stay trapped,” Jaemin finished.

Taeyeon smirked at the wolf-eared man, “good to know that Mars still has his wits about him.”

CHAPTER TWO: DO YOU HAVE A COMRADE?

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