Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

This round of games has been different. Beyoncé watched as the front men joined the players just as the old man who used to run them did. She didn’t mind the foul play as it allowed a more thorough access to a certain group of players. 

It wasn’t her first rodeo with these games. Her and Jay Z watched them once before to support all the players by adding money to the piggy bank and occasionally trying to help the players win. 

Many would say it’s stupid to be somewhat hopeful for a happy ending and how she is funding their tragedies. But, it was the best she could do without getting shot. Jay Z was busy running Roc Nation so he wasn’t with her to watch. 

Sipping on champagne with smooth jazz playing in her ears, she watched the players move back to the dorms. 

The  VIPs were bickering the “unfair” advantage 456 had over other players. 

Of course he was the big variable, player 456 again. Gihun. And it was obvious that the frontman’s eyes were all over him. The frontman left them for something pertaining to him. Even some of the other VIPs seemed to want a double win. 

But Beyoncé hazel eyes were on another player, one with short black hair. Player 120. The woman with more to show. After red light green light, Beyoncé had only one player in her head. The way she moved, especially her muscles, was… wow.  

Beyoncé's train of thought was interrupted by a circle guard hand. It was a tablet. She grabbed the tablet and turned it on with a nod. 

She turned to the guards commander, the square guard. “With these you can watch specific players, at the request of your friend in the owl mask,” he coldly told them. 

Immediately after his words, the tablets turned on. Cute trick, maybe she’ll take it for her next tour. Typing the player's number up, she was given a somehow hidden camera view of the gorgeous woman. 

Her fellow vip, the one in an owl mask, started to talk to her. “You’re quick whale mask.” He remarked, a sleazy smirk Beyoncé knew too well on his mouth, “you must have thought of him for such a long time that you remembered his number.”

Beyoncé smile tightened, almost flattening to a straight line. “They may be animals to you but 120 is a female,” she chuckled sharply. “And yes she’s been on my mind like that influencer girl who died oh so early was to you.”

The man snorted and began to roar with laughter. “Can’t a man call a spade a spade. But fine, she has been on your mind,” he relinquished. 

“I’m betting on her,” she remarked. It was more to herself, the beauty of 120 pulling her back, but she grabbed her betting chips, 1 million, and placed it on the random guards tray. “5 chips on 120 surviving until game three.”

The owl VIP eyes widen with surprise then settle back into its snarky usual position. “Oh I thought Mrs. Carter was ‘anti-gambling’ with people’s lives. Especially with your public persona Mrs. I love everyone.”

She swayed him away with her hand. “I’m not betting against her. It’s for her,” she told the man. It was different from what the other VIPs were doing. Beyoncé didn’t want her to fail or anything bad. She wanted the beauty to be safe. 

Her attention turned back to 120. Thank god she voted to continue the games, not only would her bet fall flat if they left but she wouldn’t be able to see 120 again. 

She moved in her chair with a bit of discomfort. What was she doing thinking about a player, wanting them to stay, just to keep watching them. To soothe the swirling emotions in her head, she took a heavy swing of her champagne. 

Beyoncé watched her favorite player move from her bed and around the players’ dormitory. The way her hips moved; it was unconfident yet had the natural sway of a model. 

She started to feel terrible again about the whole situation. The odds of her surviving without leaving isn’t high. 

It was a subtle change in her face that was quickly soothed to hide her disappointment from the others. This poor beautiful woman was stuck in this horrible situation, fighting for what? 

A random surgery she could pay for 120, at least that’s what her card said. Beyoncé could do that and more. Her and Jay Z were multi-billionaires, and 120 would enjoy the money she would haphazardly throw at her. She could say it’s a tax write off to spend on her. 

It was dubious to intervene and the other VIPs would be livid for unfairness, but Beyoncé wanted to help her. It wouldn’t be that bad. Gi Hun has an unfair advantage already so what’s a little help?

She looks around on the tablet to see anything, swiping from camera to camera, menu to menu. It was just more angles of her and other players. Bey felt like a voyeur and their pain but there was no time to ponder.

Her fingers were sore from the friction. She almost gave up until another announcement from the square guard. 

“If you so choose, you can send little gifts and notes .” The guard spoke up, “thanks to the complaints of your fellow VIPs and the frontman’s generosity.”

Beyoncé’s eyes sparkled with joy as a button with a speech bubble icon on the tablet popped up. Pressing led her to a menu, a text box with a drop down of every player. 

She quickly sent a water bottle with a quick little note “Hi 120. You are the most gorgeous woman I’ve seen. Keep it up. -B” It was cute and corny but she needed to see if it could work. 

The next minutes were agonizing. Of course the guards couldn’t interrupt the games for her silly borderline childish note yet she wished they did. 

Then, watching the player with the short hair, she saw a guard give the woman a bottle of water with a paper attached. Player 120 smiled shyly then, quickly shoved the note in her pocket. Was she blushing? It didn’t matter. 

Beyoncé laid back in her seat with a smile on her face. The other VIPs were too caught up with their own favorites, writing jeers and praises to them, to notice her change in attitude. 

Chapter Text

Hyun-Ju stared at the water bottle. It was basic, clear with a blue tint, yet it was the most interesting thing in the room.

She opened it, feeling the crack of the seal, and took a swing. It didn’t feel or taste tampered with. Just plain old water. 

Hyun-ju quickly drank the rest of the water as the guards left to their original positions. 

She remembered from her time in the military that dehydration will mess up everything. In a game like this, an underlying problem will be terrible for her position. 

Everyone seemed to mumble about what was going on. Hyun-Ju felt the eyes of the players sitting around her as she finished her gift. 

Some contestants got nothing while others got food. Even one player, 125, got a small project knife. Luckily for the rest of the players, the man seemed to be too frail to do any major damage to anyone. 

It was odd, especially with a game that was trying to kill them “fairly”. Why give players such an obvious advantage? 

The other players in their teams seemed to be more focused on the obvious weapon that 125 had. They obviously couldn’t attack him. It would be risky and who knows what their captors would do if it got too violent. 

Hyun-ju took this opportunity to reach back into her pocket to look at the note, flattening it out with her fingers. 

“Hi 120. You are the most gorgeous woman I’ve seen. Keep it up. -B” 

The more she looked the more it made her blush but more importantly, it made her ponder. Hyun knew she didn’t talk to enough people to warrant such a flirtatious letter let alone anyone with the initial B. 

The sender also called her a woman. A gorgeous woman, the most gorgeous woman. She couldn’t help but blush to herself. “What type of woman are you Miss B?” She whispered to herself. “You must be like an angel.”

Cho Hyun-ju knew more than anyone that she didn’t look feminine. The amount of stares she got even during this game made it clear. Most of the time she felt like a man in a cheap wig. It felt humiliating when the players stared at her like a grotesque monster after the losing videos were played. 

But B didn’t care, B thought she was gorgeous. The sentence repeated in her head like a song that always played. It made her feel warm to her core. Maybe all this hell was worth it. 

Her train of thought about the mysterious B was quickly halted by the pink guards. It seemed their break was over as the doors opened again. Hyun-ju folded the note this time around and placed it gently into her pocket. “Thank you Miss. B,” she whispered. “I owe you my life.”

With the rest of the players, she walked into the bright staircase. The room felt like a cheap trick to soothe the players as they walked into the next game. 

Instead of being on cloud nine from the compliment, the hell she was trapped in seemed to purposely drag her back to her reality. 

When they arrived at the game, they were split into two circles. The room was still sticking to theme of their childhoods.

The announcer's voice came on with a clink, explaining the games, “The game you will be playing is Six-Legged Pentathlon. You will start with your legs tied together. Each member will take turns playing a mini-game at every ten-meter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one. Here are the mini-games…”

Hyun-ju's heart dropped as she tuned out the rest of the rules. Teams would be the literal death of her. From the looks she got alone during the break, no one wanted to be near her. 

She watched as players formed teams. Even if she made an attempt to talk to them, the players quickly dismissed her with a glare or even worse. 

Finally a girl named Kim Young-mi asked her to be her template. She was cute like a puppy her little sister had. The girl helped her finally find a group. 

As the games began, she felt a little calmer as their turns approached. Hyun-Ju realized the effect her demeanor had on the younger girl. She even treated her like her sister as Young-mi held her hand. 

“You’ll do great, just breathe,” she whispered to her. It seemed to help as her trembling slowed. 

“How do you know? If I mess up you’re dying too,” Young-mi mumbled to her. The girl’s words were pouring out with each second. 

“Because…” she paused. Instinctively, her hand pulled towards the note in her pocket. “I think I know someone’s rooting for me, for us. Kinda like our body guard."

Young-mi nervously smiled. “So we can’t let them down?” She asked, squeezing her friend's hand tighter. 

Hyun-ju nodded. She couldn’t let Miss. B care package goto waste on her. They would survive. She needed to. 

It was quickly their turn as teams passed and failed around them. Her team was… less than stellar but they could do it. They will survive.