A MURDER IN SEOUL

KIM HONGJOONG ³

In truth, the whole world is a competition; companies compete for money, movies compete for your attention, and artists compete for views and downloads.

Winning is an unquenchable thirst. It reinforces our identity and makes us feel whole, important and worthy. It's a drug that gives us a purpose in life, a goal – something to chase after.

Time slows down – matrix slow, jumping on the moon slow, walking in water slow – and Hongjoong's vision zeroes in on the white finish line like a bull seeing red.

A knowing smirk spreads over his lips as shifts gears.

Everything feels electric and his ears are ringing, and as cliché as it sounds, Hongjoong feels untouchable.

They say the good guys never win in the real world, which is fine with him – he wasn't a good person anyway.

Hongjoong had familiarized himself with winning, claimed it like a prize and made it synonymous with his own name. He was good at it, basically unbeatable.

But that time, the last race he ever competed in, winning had a heavy price, one that could only be paid in blood.

The car drifts to a stop just as the song ends.

A deafening roar hits him from every angle as he steps out of the car, grinning like a madman.

Hongjoong salutes the crowd, letting their voices engulf him like a victorious cape before dragging a hand through his windswept hair, shaking his head like a lion showing off its mane.

History is written by the victors, and Hongjoong intends to end up on top – whatever it takes.

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"I saw you race, Hongjoong. You're in deep shit right now," Eden growls. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"You came?" Hongjoong replies incredulously, not even bothering to mask his surprise.

"I told you I would. You could've fucking died!"

"So? I do this every weekend, Ed."

Hongjoong can hear Eden sigh on the other end of the phone.

"This is different, kid. You have no idea what kind of people you've angered by not sticking to the deal."

"Don't fucking patronize me, Eden, I'm not a child," Hongjoong spits back, his voice venomous.

"You're right, you're on your own this time," Eden says in a tight voice, "but would it kill you to just listen to me every once in a while? All you had to was lose this one race."

"You know I never lose."

"Do you know what your problem is? You have too much pride."

Hongjoong doesn't answer.

"I care about you, you know," Eden says after a short pause. His voice sounds small, and it sounds weak.

Hongjoong doesn't have time for this.

"Eden, don't," he warns.

"Just—" He lets out a frustrated noise, "leave the city for a little bit, yeah?"

"I'm not running."

"They will come for you," Eden says firmly. "And I can't help you this time."

"I'll be fine, relax."

"Not this time, Hongjoong. Not this time," Eden cautions again before hanging up.

If Hongjoong feels a little like throwing up, he blames it on the alcohol.

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A/N: My inspiration here has returned, so expect more frequent updates from now!!Thank you, also, for over 3K reads!!! You guys are wonderful, truly.