among us | minsung

bang chan: the backstory

Profiles (1,380,051 files) 

[ Profile: Bang Chan ]

➤ Basic Information 
    | Age: 22
    | Birthday: October 3rd, 1997
    | Assigned Color: Black
    | Generation: Third Wave
    | Children: One

➤ Games Won: 263
    | Game 1, duration 39:12
    | Game 2, duration 24:57
    | Game 3, duration 17:42
    View 260 Other Games… 

Chan didn’t have a child. He had a boyfriend once, in the eighth grade, but they broke up because they never held hands on the playground. His profile was altered, fabricated to keep him from the PDP. If anyone asked, he was supposed to say his son was bunking with his great grandparents for the week, but Chan didn’t have grandparents either. His entire life was a lie, from his imaginary four-year-old son, to the grandparents he allegedly spent the majority of his time with. His parents were Second Waves, the children of the first captain of the Beyond. His father took over the ship when his grandparents died. Chan wasn’t alive for that, but he’s heard rumors of his grandparents' betrayal, their longing for Earth and the plan they hatched to get there. He figured he’d never learn the truth, and he was perfectly content with being oblivious. It hurt far less than a lie. 

Chan despised his father for supporting the PDP, and the hostility stayed into his adult years. Among Us was traumatizing. The children who managed to survive were terrified of the world, most begging for someone to kill them and finally stop the images replaying in their mind like a plague. Chan had been that kid once. He was thirteen when he participated in his first game, thankfully as a crewmate. But even then, the suspense and distrust towards the people he considered his friends hours before left him reeling. The crewmates won the game, but the screams of the girl sent into space to die haunted him. He couldn’t hate her anymore than he hated himself. They were all playing to survive, after all. His first game as the Imposter came exactly twenty three weeks later. His father, distraught and armed with the necessary equipment to ensure his son's survival, fair or not, shoved him into the room with a knife and his black suit. Chan won, but he hadn’t raised a finger to kill. His father cared about Chan in his own elusive way, and when Chan found the pile of decapitated bodies in the electrical room, he knew the cause. The smell of his throw-up lingered in the stuffy room for weeks. 

On his eighteenth birthday, his father pulled Chan to a secluded room in the ship and proposed an idea. Chan would pretend to have a son, and his father would add the child to his profile. In exchange, Chan promised to continue the program after his father’s death. Chan’s decision was obvious, say no, and he did. But four months later, he met Lee Felix, and his father found him kneeled outside his bedroom door, forehead to the floor. He begged to be dismissed from the games, not for himself, but for Felix. He couldn’t imagine his sunshine mourning his loss, the sparkle gone from his pretty eyes and tears staining his cheeks like a second skin. His father agreed, and Bang Hyunki was born. He had a father that loved him more than life, and a deceased mother. He loved his great grandparents room and the color black, like his dad. He had a toy truck that Chan’s father saved for him from the ruins of Earth, and it honked when he rolled it. 

Bang Hyunki was not real, but Lee Felix was. And he was participating in the game on Friday, much to Chan’s chagrin. His father's hospitality didn't stretch to Chan’s boyfriend, and his sunshine faced death every week. Sometimes he was allowed to sit in the Monitoring Rooms during the games, and his father didn’t comment when Chan told Felix to run or who to kill. It showed that his father had a smidge of humanity left in his heart, even after watching people kill each other for a living. 

He met Felix when the then strawberry blonde teenager played in a game with him, thankfully as crewmates. Chan regarded him as another nameless face, reducing him to the color of his vest, a sunshine yellow. It wasn’t until he saw Felix sitting alone in the cafeteria that he bothered to put a name to the smiling face. Lee Felix, he said with a smile that rivaled the glow of the stars. Bang Chan, he replied, but he lacked the enthusiasm Felix contained in his small body. He was twenty, Felix nineteen, and somehow, amidst the murder and the trauma, they fell in love. The passengers knew of their relationship, they gossiped about the freckled boy dating the Captain’s son so he could get out of the games. Felix never asked, never even mentioned the possibility of being exempt from the games, but the question lingered on his tongue, Chan knew. He swore that if he watched Felix get stabbed through that monitor one day, he would run to the game and save him, regardless of the rule against outside contact. 

Chan held his coffee cup to his lips and sipped carefully at the scalding liquid splashing inside. His Replenishment hours ended about thirty minutes ago, but his bones ached with tiredness. Something deeper ached too, and it made his fingers twitch against the ceramic mug. He spent most of his day learning how to work the Monitor with his father. The screams kept him awake. They terrified him. Five years of screams should have acclimated him. Five years of stained knives and weeping parents should be normal for him. But every parent wailing for their dead child broke his soul. 

Felix was probably eating breakfast with his cousin, Hyunjin, in the cafeteria by now. Chan disposed of his cup and pulled a hoodie over his chest. The cafeteria was crowded at breakfast, especially with a scheduled game. Players flocked to the cafeteria to replenish for their fight, and the majority of the lines for the carts were children under the age of sixteen. Chan recognized Lee Minho, a well-known fighter for his ruthless tactics, three people ahead of him. Changbin, Chan’s friend, fidgeted awkwardly behind Minho, who was his idol. It was cute. Chan grabbed his tray of limp sausage and french toast, and spotted Hyunjin’s blonde hair amongst the crowd. He clambered over the short benches and kissed Felix’s star-strewn cheek. The younger smiled bashfully, and Chan dug in. It wasn’t until Chan returned to his compartment later that evening that he realized the screaming stopped. 

Profiles (1,380,051 files) 

[ Profile: Bang Daehyun ]

➤ Basic Information 
    | Age: 53
    | Birthday: July 26th, 1967
    | Assigned Color: White
    | Generation: Second Wave
    | Children: One

➤ Games Won: 172
    | Game 1, duration 30:52
    | Game 2, duration 28:12
    | Game 3, duration 19:26
    View 169 Other Games… 

Daehyun made a promise twenty years ago that he would implement the games at all costs. In the beginning, Among Us did its job perfectly, reducing the overwhelming population by nearly 27%. The birth of the Third Waves saw a record decrease in birth rate, mainly due to parent’s fear of having their child killed, but the games continued. They were unnecessary, Daehyun knew. His own son resented him for the games, they lost a daughter to Among Us, and his wife was on the verge of a breakdown. Chan was too kind-hearted to continue the games, and that was why Daehyun urged him to Captain the ship. Chan could stop the games, he could stop the cries, silence the screams. The screams haunted him the most. 

Monitoring destroyed his views on death. Death was as natural as eating in the cafeteria, and the monitors showed his son was doing so now. The hand curled around his fork held a knife just as carelessly. Felix leaned into Chan’s side, and Daehyun tore his eyes away from the screen. He had a game starting in an hour, he couldn’t afford distractions. He opened the link to the list of eight names, and scanned them quickly. Three were females over the age of seventeen with amazing track records, one was an elderly widow, and the other four were kids ranging from thirteen to fifteen. Daehyun read their Game Information, and selected the elderly woman as the Impostor. She was nearing the age of seventy-eight, and her death wouldn’t cause the guilt killing a thirteen-year-old would. When the game began, she would be alerted of her status via earpiece, which is what Chan used to surreptitiously slip hints to Felix. 

An hour later, the intercom buzzed to life and ordered everyone to return to their compartments. Daehyun watched Chan slink into Felix’s, and started the game. 

Three people died, and the screams started again.