The Favorite- Front Man x Reader- Squid Game

     I heard the familiar voice from behind me.

    "Excuse us, but we must get going."

    The Front Man's subordinate took a step out of my personal space and then let us go. He turned me around by yanking my arm and started to pull me away.

"Ow! What are you doing?"

He didn't respond to me, and I also literally got hit by the door on the way out, which didn't feel good. I questioned him all the way to our living room, but he remained silent. It was beginning to annoy me, and I tried to shake my hand out of his grip. It didn't budge.

We finally reached our shared living room, and he let go of my arm. I pulled it to my chest and rubbed my sore wrist. His grip was tight, and it felt like it would leave a mark.

"What the hell was that for?"

He growled and sat down on his couch. He didn't respond. I got annoyed and stomped over.

"I said, 'What the hell was that for?'"

He didn't even look at me.

"Fine, then I'm going back."

I turned to exit the room via the long hallway, but he rose from his seat. I felt eyes on me.

"Stay," he demanded.

I turned and looked at him incredulously.

"I don't have to listen to you," I said. "Especially if you don't tell me why you demanded me here."

I channeled all of my frustration directed towards him into a mean look and walked off. I decided that he'd probably stay here to watch the games on his big, 500 inch, luxurious, expensive screen. Sometimes rich people were just so entitled. Was that what it was? Entitlement? Seems so. He can't just demand me to stay. I'm not his property.

...

After getting lost more than once, spending 30 minutes looking around, and finding my way finally, I started to see how much behind-the-scenes knowledge I could get. Sure, I was really interested in the games, but there were probably recordings... right? I mean, if there are viewers, of course there has to be some kind of recording.

It was so cool to watch. The dark, humid, concrete-floored room gave the atmosphere an intriguing atmosphere. It made me feel like I was a kid finally seeing the workplace of my dream job. The only thing that really bothered me was how every worker seemed to stiffen up ever so slightly from my presence. I didn't want that to happen. I wanted them to feel comfortable around me, not watched or judged.

I wandered around, dodging very, very attentive workers and forklifts. Why forklifts? I don't even know. They didn't even seem to be carrying anything. It just seemed like they were trying to impale people and use them as hood ornaments if they weren't focused on their surroundings enough. I suddenly found a row of doors that had bars over the small window.

I walked up to the small pane of glass and looked through to see if maybe I could tell what it was or what was inside. I could not.

I saw a circle worker relatively close to me.

"Excuse me?" I politely called.

I saw the worker flinch, and I made a subtly regretful face. He turned around to look at me. His posture was so on point. His tenseness increased his overall height by about two inches or so.

"You don't have to be so... professional. Well, what I mean is, do your job, but I won't judge you harshly. I don't know how the managers or even the Front Man treats you guys, but you can relax around at least me."

He nodded in appreciation, and I could tell he loosened up just a bit, still not completely comfortable. I smiled.

"Good. I just have one question." I pointed to the chambers. "What are those?"

He blankly stared at me. I mentally facepalmed and groaned.

"Sorry, sorry. Permission to speak or whatever."

He chuckled slightly.

"Those are the incinerators, Miss. We put the eliminated players there after the game is concluded."

I nodded.

"Can you show me?"

He looked around quickly for a moment.

"Miss, there are no boxes."

"Sorry, I know. I figured you guys got rid of them. I was mostly asking if you could show me without the boxes?"

He nodded and motioned for me to step back so he could open it. He swung it open with a strong metallic noise, then I walked over to see from his perspective.

"We insert the bodies."

He then reached wide and slammed the door.

"We close the door."

Then I saw him reach for a tiny button. Flames burst from below the grill. I watched the fire, drawn to it like a moth, and reached up to press my hand against the glass.

My moment of admiration was then interrupted. I felt a strong grip on my already aching wrist, and I turned around to see the familiar silhouette of the hooded man.

"I told you to stay."

He suddenly yanked my wrist until I was upright from my semi-crouched position. The force also made me face him completely. In a flash, I saw the circle worker standing there awkwardly. I could tell that he kinda wanted to leave, but he was interested in what was playing out. I mean... death is here, but not many circles will witness the Front Man being extremely condescending to me regardless of how I tried to help him through his hardships. Where did all of that go? Was he too far gone already?

He suddenly pulled me away. He tugged my arm so fast, and I couldn't keep up. I kept tripping. The workers looked at me weirdly, and I felt so embarrassed. I felt the heat of their stares burning into me. I was surely going to tell Il-Nam about this incident. And I would probably yell at the Front-Man.

Tears burned my eyes at the thought that I was just trying to be nice to the people who worked for this operation, yet the Front Man didn't seem to care and literally just humiliated me in front of them. In their eyes, I probably seemed like a child. A problem. Someone who needed to be dragged out of their place...

Some of the water streamed down, and I let out a few choked sobs. He probably couldn't hear it though. And he probably wouldn't care. He didn't even have the decency to ask me to follow him back? No. He had to pull me away like I was a disobedient three-year-old.

I was just trying to be nice...

Original Publish Date: January 26, 2023