Jeongin pressed a winning hand of cards against the hood of the car, laughing in a mocking way at the other street racers as he collected his prize of disgruntled groans and cheap bills of money all for him. If he learned anything from watching  Chan, besides how to morally weight a person's worth against the gravity of the world and other encouraging topics that resembled a pep-talk, it was how to gamble. Well.

His legs folded over each other as he leaned back against the windshield of Chan's car, the older sitting somewhere behind him in the driver's seat as the other crew members became heated in their private game of poker under the cover of the Hub's darkened lights. The lack of illumination that shroud them may or may not have helped him in the illicit gambling matched against Minho, Jisung, and Hyunjin but if no one noticed Chan feeding him cards from his spot, then no one noticed. The only one who might've noticed was Changbin but even he was focused on the engine of his own car, body leaning over as he stared the abyss in the eyes, the only light he had available to him being the ray of hope known as a phone flashlight.

A ray of hope like the sun that shined on them in the morning, if these were people that preferred the brightness of day over the realm of monsters and men alike. Maybe moonlight then. A guiding light shining through, both where they could see, and where they couldn't as the world around them seemed to return to normal. Seemed to. The last few days fell back into a steady rhythm, not quite dancing on an edge but not entirely on solid ground yet. Somewhere balancing in the middle, stumbling, before they could grab hold on something steady. Even if they did grab on, he was sure their hands would shred and bleed. They began to balance on their own feet again and the crew began a steady return to what they thought was correct.

"You never really told us what happened between you and Chan," Jisung started at Jeongin as Minho dealt in a new round to the players, each time the cards sliding a bit too far on the car's hood to be caught with a panicked slam. Chan sprung his head up at the name to briefly to scan them over but upon not being acknowledged beyond Jeongin catching his line of sight, he went back to distracting himself on his phone.

"I yelled at him, cried a bit, talked, cuddled on the couch, talked more," Jeongin listed off with his fingers. He collected the cards caught under his shoe and delicately held them in his hands as his eyes raked over the suits, the numbers, checking only to realize he received nothing that could even remotely land him a decent win this time. Glancing up from his cards to address the street racer, he muttered, "That's about it."

Hyunjin quirked an eyebrow and leaned to talk to Chan, "Cuddled on the couch? Don't you have a bed?"

"I don't think he can hear us."

"Damn."

"Chan is a genius," Minho froze up, eyes going wide at the older who was obviously not paying any attention to their conversation or even making an attempt at such. The ones who were, however, just sent him confused looks. Jisung even went as far as to make a small noise. After a few beats, Minho shook his head, placed his cards down, and began, "They were on a couch. Couches are small. Clicking yet?"

Hyunjin arranged his cards, commenting pointedly as he did so, "To me, it sounds like you're proving the theory you are a man of profoundly limited intelligence."

"Okay, imagine. Person you like is frustrated. They don't really want to talk, you send them off to sleep. But you know there's more they want to say and they probably won't be able to sleep. You wait for them to come back to talk because you know them, you know they'll be back, but even then there's not a guarantee they'll want to talk or even look at you. So, what do you do? The couch."

"Oh damn," Jisung's eyes widened.

"The bastard played me AGAIN!" The Songbird fumed as he tossed his hand of cards in front of him, one accidentally thwacking Hyunjin on the nose as he and whipped around to the older focused on the blaring screen of his phone casting mesmerizing shadows across his face. Jeongin shouted at him, "Chan!"

The mentioned snapped his gaze to Jeongin, "What have I done now?"

"What haven't you done?"

"Haven't gone to Brazil yet."

"I swear, if you continue to be cheeky with me," Jeongin let a frown consume his features as he angled an accusing finger at the older, one mimicking Hyunjin's classic gesture in order to make himself seem more intimidating than he really was to the older. To a stranger? Possibly. To Chan? Not even a bit. Still he tried to summon that same furious aura about him, but failing miserably and silently hoping he wouldn't notice as he offered the weak challenge of, "You're going to have more problems than just the police after you."

The older stayed silent as his eyes raked through his form, an intensity to it that he hadn't seen in a long time, one that made him squirm as it burned his skin wherever it went. Then, of all the motions he could have chosen to do, of all the words he could have said, Chan offered a small smirk and scoffed. He scoffed. He scoffed at me!

Challenge accepted, Jeongin cocked his head back. It's on.

"The question isn't what, but who," Jisung imposed the rhetorical question as he abandoned their game of poker, "Who hasn't he done."

Hyunjin nodded along, "Chan was quite the Casanova in his youth."

"Or so the legend goes."

"Was not. And I'm still in my youth," Chan defended himself, a prideful scorn dragging his face down into a scowl as the others wouldn't drop the idea of a Casanova Chan, a playboy. Somehow it didn't seem to far off, possibly in a split world or alternative dimension, one where everything was the same but turned upside down. A place where the sky was green and plants were blue, where the oceans would turn a shade of emerald and radiate a hue of lavender whenever someone dipped their toes in. A world much like this one, but different. It didn't seem so far away.

"He wasn't," Changbin justified while he joined them for the first time that night, slipping into a spot near Hyunjin where he leaned his forearms against the silver car. His hands were covered in the deepest shade of  an umber grease from the deepest depths of an umber engine. Beside him, Hyunjin cringed away from the oil stains, only to have Changbin wipe a bit if his finger on his shirt. The former raised his hand to hit the other's back, only to have his arm caught and pinned under Changbin's elbows. Once he successfully stopped Hyunjin, he said, "I can defend Chan on that."

Minho began to collect the scatter cards, quirking an eyebrow at them,  "What was young Chan like?"

"Not too different," The other told. He repositioned himself over Hyunjin's crushed arm in order to keep it locked in place, continuing to wipe off some of the grease on his shirt while he confirmed, "Young Chan spoke properly."

"That would be a sight to behold," Jeongin laughed to himself as he focused on his hand of cards.

"Want to repeat that?" The older stood from his seat, coming to lean his arms on the frame of the car and the opened door, the perfect position to put himself to be close to Jeongin but not suspiciously so. Subtly, or as subtle as he could be in that moment in order to continue clashing in the most self-improving and PG way they were able to. Who was Jeongin kidding, he was losing this game, badly. He could play a game of poker but as soon as Chan was involved, that tiny bit of confidence he was able to accumulate evaporated into the sky around them, never to be seen again. It could have been taken by him, was that possible? It's likely. For Chan to simply take it because that confidence belonged to him. 

"You make me want to slam these cards against the car," Jeongin murmured to the older as he waggled the playing cards in his direction.

Chan lowered his voice, "Make me want to slam you against the car."

"What?"

"Nothing," The older shook his head, going back to his phone while Jeongin was left searching his face for an answer. What exactly does that mean?

"Please, I implore you to be a bit more... what's the word...?" Hyunjin spun his hand around in circles, mimicking the not so complex movements of a windmill that turned the cogs of his mind. He stopped suddenly, fingers snapping together as he made a hum of realization. His eyes narrowed into a glare, "That's right, not horny."

"I bet you never do this at home. It always has to be when we're around. It's always when we're trying to have a normal day," Jisung grumbled under his breath as he watched the cards that Minho shuffled cascade and collapse on one another until he couldn't see any of the other cards only a stack.

"Jisung, you're the same."

"You can't say that because you can't predict me, my morals are so broken and all over the place," He mused, "But we can't excuse the fact Chan doesn't let us touch his car."

Chan glared up from the top of his phone, "Lucky I'm letting you sit on it. If I find even one of your grimy fingerprints on my steering wheel."

"Yeah, yeah, you'll fillet me and display my head out as a warning to the other fiends or something."

The older thought about it for a few seconds before nodding in a slight agreement. He pocketed his phone into the miasma of his jacket, a light hand caming to press against Jeongin's back as he jerked his head for the younger to get off the hood of the car. Jeongin sent him a small hum of confusion but complied as he slid off from his spot, arm immediately being snared by a firm grip that pulled him behind the driver's side door. Chan muttered to him, lips brushing against the youngers ear as he asked, "Going to met an acquaintance from a while ago, did you want to come?"

"I'll stay," Jeongin answered as a tiny giggle erupted from his chest. The older pulled back from him, eyebrows furrowing together as the giggles kept coming without much sign of stopping. With small puffs of air, Jeongin managed to tell, "Sorry, that tickled."

The interrogating gaze from Chan softened into that classic one of fondness as a smile pulled at his lips. He pressed a hurried kiss to the side of the younger's head before turning around to the other crew members and demanding for them to remove themselves from his car before he 'accidently ran them over as Changbin did to the crazy man', which unsurprisingly was met with heavy protest and austere denial from the one the comment targeted. Those objections, much like most serious conversations from the crew, devolved into the other three ganging up to tease Changbin past his wits while traffic control Chan went unheeded with his warnings to move. At least, until he turned on his car and the remaining stragglers bounded off. Like it had suddenly burned them.

Jeongin watched that beautiful silver chariot leave as the crew found a comfortable spot on the floor behind him, eyes chasing after the slick metal and the driver inside with the growing urged to follow him. That urge... It wasn't entirely unfamiliar. Unlike a lot of what he seemed to be experiencing, that feeling was mirrored in older memories, the echos of ghosts in his past of broken promises. Red, the color red seeping into his eyes and resting under his fingertips. That color that burned and stained, one of a fearful passion pushing back the aggression of wars bidding his failure. That urge reminded him of the color of his hair. Of the blood that seeped from his skin. Of solemn hues and wine. But that urge was different, somehow it didn't feel nearly as destructive.

He spun on his heel and joined the others on the cement ground, legs crossing over one another as his fingertips drummed a steady rhythm atop the makeshift drum of his knee. Minho dealt out a new hand of cards. For the first time since they began their continuous games of whatever they found interesting at that time, Jeongin gingerly passed the playing cards back to him as he opted out to spectate the game.

"Changbin," Jisung called, grabbing his cards and shoving his head against the concrete in order to check what they were. He wasn't about to get lectured about holding his cards wrong again. Not today. When the other looked up from his cards, Jisung quipprd, "If I one vs one Chan. Who would win?"

Without a second of hesitation, Changbin answered, "Chan."

"Come on. I'm not even worried about it. I'd go," Jisung sat up as he threw soft punches at the air in front of him. With every strike, he paired them to comic book worthy sounds effects that marveled any onomatopoeia written on those illustrated pages. He wouldn't have noticed it, being too wrapped up in his imaginary fight with an invisible Chan, but beside him Minho wore a strange look on his features. It reminded Jeongin of how certain people studied food, or lottery tickets. A look of a fond indulgence. It was a shame that the street racer wasn't able to see it too.

"Yes, then Chan would throw a wrench at your head," Changbin finalized as he placed one of his cards face down. Their house, Minho, chucked a new card to him.

"Or so the legend goes," Jisung repeated the phrase, an eerie mystic coupled with it that said tales were yet to be told in this grand world, and the ones that have already been spoken were about to catch up with them if they became sloppy in their fool's journey. It was beginning to bite at their heels. The others didn't seem to receive it too well, as a thick silence was dragged behind the comment along with weary glances back and forth.  The street racer barely had the will to explain himself, but still, he told, "I watched a fantasy movie earlier with Minho."

The mentioned's head snapped in his direction, "No one said that—"

"Hush baby, we must be mystical long bearded wizards that guide the protagonist on his soul searching journey."

"B—"

"Hushhhhhh, watch me do my thing," Jisung covered the other's mouth to silence him before closing his eyes. Focusing, his face grew tense. It scrunched this way and that, contorting and bending to the will of his own thoughts. Suddenly, his hand snapped in Jeongin's direction and his eyelids shot open, "You! I see the path you travel, diverged! One that you are able to be proud of, yes! Yes! I see! And the other... Pain. A sadness. You..."

Jisung's voice began to die out, hand slowly dropping back to his lap as he met Jeongin in a staring contest of confusion rather than duel of wits. The younger quirked an eyebrow as an attempt to prompt him to continue, that gesture only being acknowledged with a shrug that dissolved all previous words to let it go.  Hyunjin interrupted their moment, the card he tossed in the center falling unceremoniously between them on the ground, "He's quite dedicated to his role."

"That's enough fortune telling for today," Changbin agreed as he collected the playing cards everyone discarded, abandoning their game. He shuffled the cards in a similar fashion to Minho did, the deck arching pitifully under his palms with a command that only certain people could control. Somehow, it made Jeongin think of Chan. Proceeded by him once again kicking the mental version of him a few times.

Minho shook his head, "Wizards and fortune tellers are not the same thing."

"Wizards, witches, wiccans, and warlocks are not interchangeable words too. Did you know?"

"I did, in fact, know that. I'm not entirely clueless."

"No, not entirely," Jisung repeated after him. He snickered, "But you are oblivious."

"I am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too!"

"Children, please," Hyunjin interrupted their bickering match, surprisingly not even hinting that he wished to be a part of their usual back and forth that tended to fill the atmosphere. Instead he pressed his lips into a thin line, "You are both oblivious dunderheads of an astronomical magnitude, now can we please focus on the card game."

The two involved exchanged a quick glance. Minho scoffed under his breath, whispering something that was barely audible for anyone but him and Jisung to hear but directed at a certain someone. That certain someone flung a scowl in their direction, only to have both of them avoid his gaze in any way they could come up with on the fly. Using a hand was one idea, shoving a nose into the dirty floor was another, and it seemed to get more creative as the seconds ticked on. One began to play with a stray card and the other whipped his phone out to pretend to be on a call. When Hyunjin finally decided to look away, Jisung childish stuck a tongue out in his direction.

Jeongin snorted behind a hand.

Hyunjin glanced in his direction, "What?"

"No, no worries, something Chan sent me," He hurriedly dismissed. Despite the obviously glaring fact that there wasn't a way for Chan to have been in contact with him; He was where ever Chan tended to roam, and Jeongin didn't have his phone out to check if the older sent him any messages. His lie seemed to have gone undetected though, as the others went back to their intense card game.

But, thinking of him...

Jeongin quietly fished for his phone in the pockets of the leather jacket that now belonged to him, turning it on and letting the bright hue erode away his retinas as he checked his messages. As if he had a sixth sense, Chan indeed sent a message a few minutes ago mentioning something about the people he was with, and asking if the younger wanted him to buy any snacks. He quickly typed out a response, sending it without another thought to type in another message. Something along the lines of 'I'm bored, please help me' but it was awfully dark his eyes were far too in pain to really care about what exactly he typed out on the keyboard. He didn't wait long before he earned the simple reply of;

Almost done. Hang in there.

Jeongin smiled lightly at the text and set the phone down next to him. His heart pounded strangely in his chest, not an unwelcome feeling but it wasn't entirely invited either. Simply showed up whenever it wanted to and didn't give him a choice. Not as if he wanted one in this matter. Still, it filled his muscles with a newfound energy that had a habit of leaving him when it grew into these later hours of the night. The later hours of the night would grow into tomorrow, and he was sure that tomorrow was something they could hold on for.

✘