"???'?? ??????? ? ????????? ????, ??? ?'? ??? ??? ??? ????? ??? ?????."
A cold and calculating man oversees the deadly competition as its secret mastermind: every move, every tactic, every techni...
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Minutes pass by of Player 456 and Player 001 talking about their decisions. Player 456 seems mad that Player 001 chose the "O", but not mad at me, since I offered an ohso sentimental explanation. I start grinning thinking about it again. After a while, another player suddently shows up, saying that he wants to join our group as well. Player 388.
He looks young. Not to be taken seriously, I think, even if he's a Marine. I really don't care about what they're talking about, it's all so boring. I wish Jun-hee would suddently show up and take me away from here. Maybe I should look for her later...
I give him not attention while he talks to the others, deciding to focus on Player 001 instead. As soon as I turn to look at him, I see that he was already looking at me. Shit. I raise my eyebrows, as if to say "What are you looking at?"
Somewhere between them talking and Player 388 showing up, I decided to not let my guard down to anyone, not even ridiculously handsome men. One ridiculously handsome man, to be specific...
I hold his gaze for a beat, and he doesn't look away. If anything, his lips tug upward into the faintest smirk, like he's amused I noticed.
"You know...I'm trying to figure you out." He says and I give him a questioning look, raising one eyebrow. "Are you always so good at pretending you don't care about anything and anyone?"
His question surprises me, and I don't know how to reply for a second.
"Depends. Are you always good at staring at people?" I shoot back, satisfied with my answer. Two can play a game.
He leans back slightly, arms resting on his knees, and he laughs, his attention still fully on me.
"Maybe." He says, shrugging. "When there's something worth looking at."
That earns him a small reaction—a slight twitch at the corner of my lips, though I don't let it grow. I tilt my head slightly, trying to decide if he's being serious or not.
"Careful, that almost sounded like a compliment. You don't want to go around being all nice to people here." I warn.
His smirk deepens and his voice drops just slightly.
"Maybe it was...Anyways...Why won't you just respond to my question? Why do you act as if you don't care, Player...457?" He asks.
"Who is acting? Just for your information, I really don't care. What's the point? Caring just makes things messier...Gets you killed, or even worse." I say shrugging. My tone is light,almost nonchalant, but there's something underneath it I can't hide no matter how hard I try whenever I talk about things like this—bitterness.
"And that doesn't bother you? Not caring?" He asks challenging.
"Oh please, what are you, my therapist?" I ask, getting annoyed by the conversation. I hate when people make me talk about my feelings. There's nothing there, no feelings.
