When will this end, it goes on and on
Over and over and over again
Keep spinning around, I know it won't stop
Till I step down from this for good

I never thought I'd end up here
I never thought I'd be standing where I am
I guess I kind of thought it would be easier than this
I guess I was wrong now one more time

This is a sick cycle carousel
A sick cycle carousel
A sick cycle, yeah

"Sick Cycle Carousel"- Lifehouse

Busan Main Asiad Stadium
Asian Games Men's Football Finals
Medals Ceremony

To Lee Young-Pyo, the entire experience seemed surreal. He'd never seen the Main Asiad stadium so empty before-it seemed more like a shell of a place rather than the energetic venue he remembered from his memories.

And the medal around his neck was little comfort-bronze, not gold. The podium he and the rest of the team stood on was far shorter than he'd thought it'd be, the national anthem being played was not one he was familiar with, and as hard as he tried he could not get himself to feel anything good about this.

The joy of their playoff victory had been short-lived, dissipating as soon as they boarded the bus that would take them to Busan. Even standing in the parking lot, looking at the imposing structure, had been a whack in the face for them. This, they thought, was the building they should've been playing in. Not Munsu, but this. Busan.

There would be no praises for them tomorrow-nobody was going to give them credit for winning bronze. They should've won gold. There won't be newspaper headlines about a glorious comeback, or even about strong individual performances-the press had no place for such things, and more than anything they had no mercy.

Once the printing machines started rolling, all those ink dots and pictures and blown-up headlines would only echo one sentiment: Failure.

Young-Pyo had enjoyed his match. He'd enjoyed it immensely, and it was his blissful refuge from the harsh realities that were now crashing back down upon him. Standing on the third-place podium, looking over to his side where the players that had defeated them two days ago were now beaming proudly with the gold around their necks, singing their national anthem along with the recording.

Beside him, Uke stood with a bland expression on his face, while the others around him made little attempt to hide their disappointment.

How quickly everything came back down to that self-imposed gloom, victory only a temporary relief, a bronze medal only a consolation prize. There was no pride, no sense of achievement to it, and Young-Pyo found it alarming.

Everyone had assumed, just assumed, that they were going to win. Indeed they seemed well on their way to that until two days ago, when a penalty shootout saw them being out of luck. No amount of reasoning, no amount of arguing that penalty shootouts are what they are-a game of luck instead of a game of football-would quell the uproar that ensued in its wake.

The ceremony concluded and Young-Pyo got off the podium along with the others, sympathetic applause echoing through the sparsely occupied stadium as they left, to return to the Athlete's Village one last time. They would have to take part in the closing ceremonies tomorrow, from then on it's back to their daily lives again.

On the bus, everything was quiet. Young-Pyo sat with Uke beside him, looking out into the night as the bus carried them on the short trip back to the village.

"You okay?"Uke asked.

"I don't know," Young-Pyo shrugged. "Is this the way we're supposed to feel everytime we play in a third-place match?"

"Oh, you mean," Uke gestured with his fingers. "Up, down, up, down, not sure how you'll feel next?"

Young-Pyo nodded. "I felt good this morning. Felt even better when we were playing. Like, I could just forget about it all. Now..."

"Back to square one."Uke leaned back against his seat and sighed. "Well, at least we didn't go home empty-handed."

Young-Pyo reached to where the medal hung around his neck. "Yeah."

"Is Tae-Young coming over tonight?" Uke asked.

"Uh," Young-Pyo felt slightly uncomfortable. "I think so."

"Okay, then. I'll find somewhere else to sleep."

Young-Pyo looked at him guiltily. "Uke, I didn't mean..."

"Look, it's okay. Honest!" Uke assured him. "Don't you think I'd want you to have him there? He's good to you."

"Yeah, he is." Young-Pyo admitted sheepishly.

"You slept like a baby in his arms last night." Uke said. "You haven't slept like that for a long time, and certainly not the night before."

"I know."

"You need him. And he's there for you. What else is there to talk about?"

Young-Pyo squirmed in his seat. "Don't you think it's a little early?"

Uke smiled at his friend knowingly. "Are you nervous?"

"And feeling silly as hell about it, too." Young-Pyo muttered. "I don't know, Uke..."

"I'll sleep in Chun-Soo's room." Uke said. "His roommate will probably be with Eun-Jung and Young-Min again, like last night."

"You really want me to do this, don't you?" Young-Pyo said.

"I want you to be happy, Young-Pyo." Uke said.

"I want the same for you." Young-Pyo countered. "It just doesn't seem fair."

"Nothing is these days." Uke said. "And don't worry about me-I'll be just fine."

Something about the tone of Uke's voice as he said this prevented Young-Pyo from really believing it, but he figured that Uke knew how to take care of himself, that he wasn't that naive little boy he first met two years ago.

Then again, he'd thought the same thing before Uke went on to try his chances with Nam-Il. Young-Pyo tried to shake away the bitter residue left within him any time that name came up. Nam-Il, so full of empty promises and so quick to break them. Young-Pyo didn't know what exactly Tae-Young said to Nam-Il last night that managed to finally get rid of him, after he'd so stubbornly banged on their door even after Uke had told him to leave, but it worked.

"You loved him, didn't you?" he muttered slowly. It wasn't a question.

Beside him, Uke nodded slowly. "I know this is a perfect opportunity for one of those 'I told you so' conversations, but I'm not in the mood to hear it."

"I'm not going to do that." Young-Pyo shook his head. "Not to you."

"Thanks," Uke muttered.

"There's nothing wrong with it, Uke." Young-Pyo said. "Nothing."

"I should've known better."

"You couldn't have known." Young-Pyo shook his head. "Now quit beating yourself up for it."

"If I quit beating myself up for falling in love with him, will you quit beating yourself up for missing that shot?"

Young-Pyo was caught a little off guard by the question. He knew it was coming, but wasn't quite prepared for it.

"I'll try."

Uke glanced at him and smiled weakly. "Then we a have a deal."

As night descended on Busan, Hong pulled into the parking lot of the athlete's village and maneuvered Nam- Il's Rio into one of the spaces.

"It's so empty compared to last night," Nam-Il murmured.

"Figures. It's the last night, and there's not so much going on in there anymore.?EHong said as he killed the engine.

"What now?" Nam-Il asked.

"We wait." Hong checked his watch. "Shouldn't be too long."

"For what?"

Hong looked over to the younger man and winked. "You'll see."

It wasn't long before another car entered the parking lot, and flashed its headlights twice. Hong flashed their own headlights twice in response, and the driver of the other car drove over to where they were parked.

"Who is that?" Nam-Il asked.

"Park Sung-Hyo. He's an executive officer with BAGOC, but he used to do some PR work for the KFA. He accompanied us to France during the World Cup."

A tall, heavyset man walked out, and Hong signaled Nam-Il to exit the car. The man recognized Hong immediately and walked over to him.

"Ahh, there you are," he said, extending a hand.

"Sung-Hyo, been a long time." Hong shook the hand. "Do you have what I asked for?"

Sung-Hyo pulled something out of his pocket, and handed two VIP name tags to Hong. "You know, I could get in real trouble for this."

"Oh, come on. I bet people are asking for a lot of these," Hong waved the tags.

"No, not that - his." Sung-Hyo pushed a folded piece of paper into Hong's hand. "What on earth you're planning to do with it, I don't want to know. If you weren't Hong Myung-Bo I wouldn't have given it to you."

Hong gave him a wry little smile. "Trust me. It's for a good cause."

Sung-Hyo shook his head. "You people always making use of your fame to score some freebies. Another one of your old buddies asked for a VIP pass today."

"Really? Who?"

"Kim Tae-Young. He was in the World Cup too, wasn't he?"

Hong's eyes immediately darted over to Nam-Il, who had been listening in on the conversation. The mention of Tae-Young's name seemed to frighten the living hell out of him, judging by the way he was suddenly shaking all over.

Sung-Hyo just eyed him curiously. "Your friend okay?"

"He's fine. Just a little unwell," Hong said quickly. "Thank you for these. I owe you."

"Well, I'd better get going." Sung-Hyo got back inside his car, and started the engine. Hong waited until the car had driven away and was out of sight, before he turned back to Nam-Il.

The boy was holding on to the hood of the car for support, as his legs were shaking so badly they could barely sustain his weight. Quickly, Hong went to him and threw an arm around his body to stop him from falling.

"Nam-Il!" he tried to get his attention. "Nam-Il, are you okay? Here, sit down first."

He helped Nam-Il to sit on the hood of the car, but the boy's mind was obviously on something else-or someone.

"He's in there, isn't he?" the shrill voice asked. "He's in there."

Hong quickly drew him in his arms and embraced him tightly. "It's okay, Nam-Il."

"He's in there. Eae-Young's in there."

"I know he is." Hong whispered gently. "Trust me, it's going to be okay."

Nam-Il was shaking worse than any of his previous episodes. His hands clutched at the collar of Hong's jacket and he buried his head into the older man's broad shoulders. Hong held him tighter, trying to give him as much comfort as possible, knowing that he couldn't possibly understand what sort of emotions were going through Nam-Il right now, waiting patiently for the tremors to end.

"I'm scared, Captain." Nam-Il whispered faintly. "I mean, I know what I have to do-I'm ready for that. But, with him there."

"Nam-Il, do you trust me?" Hong asked gently.

It took a while for the answer to come, but it came strongly. "With my life, Captain."

"Then trust me on this." Hong pulled back and held Nam-Il's face in his hands. "I won't let him hurt you. That's not going to happen."

"Captain."

"Trust me." he repeated.

Nam-Il swallowed hard, and nodded. "I trust you."

"Good." Hong smiled at him. "Now be strong. Remember what you have to do."

It took several moments for Nam-Il to calm down and bring his breathing back under control, and Hong waited patiently, stroking up and down his back and letting his presence be felt. He'd never seen Nam-Il so vulnerable before, and felt a resurgent anger within him. Anger towards Tae-Young, anger towards himself.

"What... what's that?" Nam-Il pointed at the folded piece of paper in Hong's hand.

Hong handed Nam-Il one of the VIP name tags and put the other one around his own neck, then he opened the paper. "This is a floor plan for the athlete's village. Specifically, the levels in which our football team is staying."

Nam-Il just stared at him wide-eyed.

"Now we know which player is staying in which room, and where the officials are. I don't know, might come in handy." Hong said.

"You... you actually asked for this?" Nam-Il shook his head in disbelief.

"See here." Hong observed the plan. "All the officials are staying one floor below the players, so they shouldn't catch us being there. Uke and Young-Pyo's room is over here and Ji-Sung's room is over here, two corridors away."

"Uh-huh." Nam-Il nodded. "And why do you think you need it?"

"Well, you're not the only one who's got matters to sort out." Hong said. "I've got some people that I need to talk to, and I'd prefer not to let the entire floor now that I'm there."

"Oh, okay." Nam-Il said.

"Well," Hong folded the paper again and pocketed it. "Are you ready?"

Apprehension was still evident in the younger man's face, but he nodded nonetheless. Hong flung an arm around his shoulders, squeezing him gently as they started walking towards the entrance to the village. "Remember I'm right here."

Even though most of the players were in the apartment blocks, the corridors were silent and empty. The subdued mood of the medals ceremony had carried over to the atmosphere of the village, and everyone seemed to have decided to spend their last night in the village by sleeping early or staying inside their rooms.

Uke reached the door to Chun-Soo and Choi Song-Gook's room and knocked, and heard as the door locks were undone.

"Uke?"Chun-Soo asked drowsily as he opened it. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know you were asleep already."Uke said. "Is your roommate in?"

"Song-Gook? No. He's decided to stay over with Eun-Jung again. Why?"

"Well, I sort of need a place to sleep tonight. Do you mind?"

Chun-Soo shrugged and opened the door wide for him. "Not at all. Come on in, then."

"Thanks." Uke walked in, breathing a sigh of relief.

"What's wrong with Young-Pyo?" Chun-Soo asked.

"He's... he..." Uke fidgeted nervously. "He's having company."

For a while the expression on Chun-Soo's face suggested that he'd just swallowed something large and lumpy, his brows knitting with confusion.

"Company? Here? I didn't know they could do that!" Chun-Soo finally commented, then his glance turned mischievous. "Is that part of the room service? Do you have a number I can call?"

Uke almost choked at this, but brought himself back under control. "Uhhh... no. A friend's coming over to visit."

Chun-Soo's eyebrows cocked at an angle. "Friend?"

Uke threw his arms up, flustered. "Oh, what the hell-it's Tae-Young."

"Tae-Young?" Chun-Soo looked even more confused than before.

"Yeah, Kim Tae-Young." Uke said. "Tall guy, red hair, plays right fullback, had his nose broken by an Italian. Know him?"

"Oh, that guy," Chun-Soo said, mock-thoughtfully.

Uke snorted with laughter. "You'll have to ask Young-Pyo if you want details, though. I'm just looking for a place to sleep."

"Hey, if they feel like getting it on than I'm not going to ask questions," Chun-Soo held his hands up. "Do you still want to do anything? Watch TV-or eat something?"

"You were sleeping just now. I don't want to bother you." Uke said as he sat down on the bed that still had the covers on neatly.

"I only slept because I had nothing better to do." Chun-Soo said. "Gets pretty lonely in here."

Uke kicked off his shoes and peeled off his socks. "I can imagine."

Chun-Soo crawled back on his bed and propped his back against the headboard. Uke saw that the bronze medal was at his bedside table, draped over what looked to be some sort of figurine set on a black wooden base. Uke squinted for a closer look and saw that it was shaped like a pouncing tiger, and the base was engraved with Chun- Soo's name.

"Gift from one of your fans?"Uke asked, gesturing at it.

"What? Oh, this..." Chun-Soo picked up the figurine, untangling the medal from it. "No, this is my 21st birthday present."

"Neat." Uke said. "From your parents?"

Chun-Soo shook his head slowly, and looked up at Uke with a forlorn smile. "This one's from Chong-Gug."

Uke suddenly regretted having asked about it, his mind instantly recalling memories of seeing Chun-Soo in the showers, crying and stroking himself, calling out Chong-Gug's name over and over as his face contorted in pain.

"Gave you quite a shock, didn't I?" Chun-Soo smiled at him, as if reading his mind. "Don't worry, Uke. I'm okay."

"Uh..." Uke rubbed his palms together nervously. "You want to talk about it?"

"I thought you'd have something to talk about." Chun-Soo said calmly, placing the figurine back on the bedside table.

Uke just fixed him with a blank stare. "Me?"

Chun-Soo shrugged and rested his head on one of the pillows. "Last night I hauled Nam-Il in from the hallways, Uke. He was a goddamn mess. I fixed him up, sent him on his way, no questions asked."

Uke felt his heart skip a beat when he heard this, but fought not to let it show on his face. "And, what's that got to do with me?"

"Where'd your necklace go?" Chun-Soo asked casually.

Uke reached up to his neck and felt his bare flesh there, again distinctly feeling like something was amiss. With a sigh of resignation, he looked back at Chun-Soo.

"You know, don't you?"

"I only know what I saw, Uke. Only what I was able to piece together. If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine."

For a while, Uke considered this. He'd never thought Chun-Soo would make a good listener, but then again he'd been wrong about Chun-Soo more often than he'd been right. And perhaps he needed to tell the story to a neutral party-well, at least he hoped Chun-Soo was neutral.

"If I tell you about it, will you tell me more about Chong-Gug?" he asked tentatively.

Chun-Soo shrugged casually. "Why not? We can officially make this 'sob story' night."

Uke smiled a little and leaned back on his bed. "Who's gonna start?"

Hong and Nam-Il made their way into the lobby of the apartment block where the Korean football team were staying, and they got past the guards with no trouble. Once in the elevators, Nam-Il just closed his eyes and started some sort of breathing exercise, trying to calm himself down. Hong could only lay a gentle had on his shoulder, hoping that the boy would hold up his own end for the rest of the night, for what he had to do.

When the elevator doors slid open at their destination floor, they were welcomed by the sight of a long corridor that was empty, with doors lining either side. They walked down, trying to keep their tread silent, and got to a T junction at the end of the corridor.

"Ji-Sung's that way," Nam-Il pointed to the left. "I remember."

Hong consulted his chart. "Yes, he is. Okay, why don't you go there and I'll-"

"YOU!" A loud, booming voice interrupted them, coming from the direction where they'd just come from. "I thought I told you not to come back here!"

Hong feared the worst, and when he turned to look his suspicions were confirmed. Tae-Young was standing there, glancing furiously at Nam-Il. Behind Hong, Nam-Il staggered, and fear was so evident in his entire body language.

"Stay where you are, Tae-Young!" Hong pointed a finger warningly.

"Step aside, Hong." Tae-Young said, his hands clenching into fists. "Somebody here needs to be taught a lesson!"

He started to stride forward, and Nam-Il looked like he was about to collapse, but Hong reacted swiftly. He grabbed the boy's wrist and quickly pulled him in behind him, shielding him from Tae-Young.

"You come one step closer to him, and you're a dead man!" he bellowed out, trying to instill some authority in his voice.

"Just what are you doing here, anyway?" Tae-Young asked furiously. "Helping him do more damage than he's already done?"

"You shut up!" Hong barked at him, then turned to Nam-Il, who was staring at Tae-Young with wide, fearful eyes. He was shaking again. "Nam-Il."

The boy pried his eyes away from Tae-Young just long enough to look up at Hong.

"Nam-Il, do what you have to do, okay?"

"But, he..."

"I'll take care of this." Hong assured him. "Now go, find Ji-Sung. Go. Go!"

With one last look at Tae-Young, Nam-Il disentangled himself from Hong's arms and went down the corridor on the left-nearly running with his desperate need to get away, leaving the two senior players alone.

"You make me sick," Tae-Young commented darkly.

"You make me even sicker." Hong countered, fighting the urge to just grab the other man by the throat and strangle him. "What you did to him-it's disgusting."

"So the little baby came crying to you last night, huh? Bet he forgot to tell you about all the pain he's caused around here!"

"He did tell me, mind you. And now he's trying to make up for it." Hong said. "And I'd very much appreciate if you don't stand in his way."

"Uke wants nothing more to do with him." Tae-Young set his hands on his hips. "And last night I told that little jerk never to come back here again."

"Tae-Young..."

"If you think what I did to him last night was disgusting, then what about what he did to Uke, huh?"

"I'm not talking about last night, damnit!" Hong stamped his feet angrily, losing his patience. "I'm talking about what happened last year, in Seogwipo!"

Tae-Young shot him a suspicious look. "What? What the hell are you talking about?"

Hong looked around the deserted corridors, and decided he'd rather not discuss it where the others might accidentally hear it.

"We need to talk," Hong said. "Where's the fire exit?"

Tae-Young pointed in one direction, still confused. "What's this all about?"

"It's about me trying hard not to kill you before we're done talking, Tae-Young." Hong said darkly. "Now let's go."

They got to the fire exit and Hong muscled the door open, entering a confined space with staircases leading up and down. He looked down at the floor and stamped on it with his foot.

"White ceramic tile," he muttered. "Too bad. Much more difficult to get the bloodstains out when we're done."

Hearing this put Tae-Young into a defensive stance. "Are you gonna talk to me, or should we just trade punches?"

"Tell me something, Tae-Young...how do you handle your liquor?"

"Huh? What's that got do it with-"

"Just answer me, damnit!" Hong folder his arms in front of him, better to keep them from lashing out at the other man.

"Well, I could always use a few drinks every now and then."

"But once you're drunk, you're out of it, aren't you? Can't even remember where you are, or what you've been doing."

"Where are you going with this, Hong?"

"I'm talking about the night after we defeated Croatia, Tae-Young. Remember? You being grumpy about the injury and all, when we went out to celebrate at the club."

Tae-Young nodded slowly, his eyes still regarding Hong with suspicion. "Yeah. So?"

"And do you remember deciding that you wanted some more entertainment, and that you asked Nam-Il to come with you?"

"Uh-huh," Tae-Young said. "Couldn't find one, though. Not a single one of those kinds of places on Cheju."

"Yeah," Hong nodded. "Bet you came home feeling all horny too, didn't you? Couldn't get your rocks off the way you wanted to?"

"My personal life is none of your fucking business." Tae-Young spat bitterly.

"Oh really? You seemed to have no objections making it Nam-Il's business that night"

Tae-Young tilted his head, his eyes narrowing into slits. "What are you talking about?"

"You remember how you got back to Seogwipo that night? How you two managed to sneak back into the dorms?"

Tae-Young shook his head. "No, I was too drunk. Nam-Il was the one who got us in."

Hong snorted cynically. "No wonder he remembers every little detail while you don't remember a single damn thing."

"Hong, you're starting to confuse me." Tae-Young said.

"Good! Because it confuses me how on earth you could've done something like that!" Hong blurted, his self- control fading. "How could you?"

Tae-Young just shook his head, confused. "What? What did I do?"

"Didn't you wake up the next morning with a hangover from hell? And didn't you wonder why your pants were open and your dick was hanging out?"

Tae-Young flinched a little at the question, as if wondering how the hell had Hong found out about that one, but he held the other man's gaze firmly. "I just, just assumed I'd somehow jacked myself off while I was drunk on the bed. It's happened before."

"Oh, sure it has." Hong muttered. "Didn't you wonder why your sheets weren't a mess? Why your hands were dry?"

"Hong, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you spent that night forcing Nam-Il to suck you off, Tae-Young!" Hong said, unable to hold back. "And you could've done worse, if you hadn't passed out drunk!"

Tae-Young regarded him with a mixture of shock and disbelief. "What? No way! You're crazy! I couldn't have done something like that!"

"You said it yourself! You couldn't remember what happened that night? How can you be sure?"

"You think I'd do that to him? To him?" Tae-Young said angrily. "I would never do that to anybody!"

"Except when you're grumpy, horny, and drunk as hell on top of it." Hong said darkly.

"If that's what the little jerk told you, then he's making it up just to win your sympathy! And you bought into that?" Tae-Young pointed a finger at him.

"He was telling the truth." Hong said. "And I believe him."

"Then you're an idiot!" Tae-Young snapped. "I don't have to listen to any more of this crap, I'm getting out of here!"

He started for the door, but Hong quickly stood in his way. He stared at Tae-Young, who stared back at him just as angrily.

"Out of my way, Hong." he muttered.

"Did you ask about the bruise on his face?"

"Huh??

"He woke up that morning with a bruise on his face, Tae-Young. Did you ask about it?"

Tae-Young squinted as he recalled images from memory. "Yeah, he did. Nasty bruise, that was. But he said he bumped into something while we were getting in."

"Did you ever see a bruise from bumping into-say, a chair or a table, that looks like that?"

Tae-Young's eyes were wide as he pondered the question, and little by little Hong could feel the other man's memories coming back to him.

"Well, so." Tae-Young said finally.

"You hit him." Hong said, his voice cold. "Twice."

"No." Tae-Young shook his head, but his voice was faltering.

"First when he told you to let him go, the second time when he tried to muscle his way out from under you."

"No!" Tae-Young said defiantly. "I did no such thing"

"Then tell me this." Hong said, the anger bubbling inside him a contrast to his icy tone. "If you'd jacked yourself off that night, where'd it all go?"

"I don't," Tae-Young shook his head. "I don't know."

"I'll tell you where it went." Hong said. "It went down his throat."

Tae-Young looked up at him, ready to deny everything, but no words came out of him.

"First down his throat, then down the toilet drain when he vomited afterwards."

"No," Tae-Young said. "I couldn't... couldn't have done that to him."

"Did you see how he looked at you just now? In the hallway?" Hong pointed a finger towards the door. "Do you actually think that what you did last night is why he was so scared of you? Sorry to tell you, macho man. You're not all that menacing when you're sober."

Tae-Young's eyes were losing focus. He was looking in one direction, then another, his hands suddenly shaking as he brought them together, his fingers tangling nervously.

"Look, I'm not trying to make excuses for the boy, for what he did to Uke. He's done wrong, and he knows it." Hong said. "I'm not trying to make light of Uke's pain or anything. But let's just face it, what Nam-Il did to him isn't half as bad as what you did to Nam-Il."

Tae-Young's head snapped up to stare back at Hong, and his lips were quivering. Hong stepped closer to him, never breaking eye contact, wanting nothing more to just reach with his hands and choke the life out of the other man.

"I don't even know why I'm standing here talking to you. By all means I should be beating you to a bloody pulp." he said.

"Are you saying..." Tae-Young sputtered out. "That I... that I..."

"Yes, you did." Hong nodded. "You raped him."

On to Part 23