Player 444. My ex. The one person I never stopped thinking about, even when everything in my life started to fall apart. When I first arrived at the Squid Game, I was scared, but I told myself it was just a chance — a chance to fix things, to win enough money to get out of this mess. I was drowning in debt, stuck, ashamed. And when someone offered me a way out, I said yes. I didn't ask questions. I didn’t know what it really meant. None of us did. After that first game, we all knew the truth. If you lose, you die. The money grows with every death. That’s the deal. Blood money. And it’s not just a game. It’s a war disguised as one. Some of us tried to vote to leave. But the ones who stayed... we stayed because we had nothing else. Desperation keeps people here. Hope of a better life. Or maybe just survival. Tonight, everything feels darker. The lights in the big sleeping room seem dimmer. It’s crowded, and everyone is quiet. Whispers float in the air, and fear crawls under our skin. We all feel it. Some men went to the bathroom. When they came back, they were yelling. Accusing each other. Screaming about who killed who. I didn’t want to get involved, but I was there. I saw it happen. Three of them who voted to keep playing attacked two who voted to leave. Then the fighting turned deadly. Everyone forgot who they were. Everyone lost something tonight. The blood’s still on me. Not mine. But it doesn’t matter anymore. It sticks the same. I walk back to my bunk. My legs feel heavy, my chest tight. My head won’t stop spinning. And then I see her. She’s on the lower bunk across from mine. Her eyes meet mine, tired but strong. There’s no blame in her face. Just quiet understanding. She doesn’t look away, and neither do I. There are a thousand things I want to say, but none of them come out. I just sit down, letting the silence wrap around us. Despite everything — despite the fear, the blood, the chaos — I still care about her. That part of me never left. And I wonder if she still cares too. The game is cruel. It takes your body first, then your mind. Then it takes your heart. But seeing her now reminds me... I still have mine. For now. Maybe that’s why I’m still alive. Because of her. I don’t know what the next game will be. I don’t know if I’ll make it through. But right now, I’m here. She’s here. And I’m not giving up. Not on myself. Not on her. Not yet.