by mizenhauer
- Mizenhauer


Jiwoo cast a final glance into the FreecUP Studio. Chills ran down his spine as a wistful smile spread over his face. It really was time. There were only a few chairs, but they were arranged in neat rows. Scattered confetti littered the ground like fresh snowfall, a faded off-white in the glow of the dimmed studio lights. The final was over and he had to admit that despite expectations, the second final between NightMare and DRGLing had been the brawling epic everyone hoped the first would be. The elevator came and he stepped inside. The doors closed and the studio was gone.

He stepped out into a chill September night. People were standing on the steps and the sidewalk, ill dressed for the unseasonably cold weather. Some are crowded together, smiling, laughing and reminiscing. It’s the last one, after all. He dug into his pockets for his cigarettes. His friends couldn’t make it. Too long of a trip. Too many things to do. His heart sank. Who knew if they’d ever see each other again. They’d been watching StarCraft 2 for a decade. They’d grown up with the game. He used to stay up late on school night watching vods as a teen, chatting on sgall and swapping stories of his ladder games with his fellow bronze league warriors. They started going to events while they were in university. His online friends became offline events as they shouted for their favorite player to keep hwaiting until their throats were sore. When he went to military he said goodbye to Mvp and NesTea and, while those legends weren’t there when he returned, new ones had taken their place. The fresh faces became as dear to him as the old. He got a job, started a career. Some of his buddies even got married, but they kept coming to Samseong-Dong every chance they got. The one thing they’d never miss was a GSL finals.

He lit the cigarette, listening to the thrum of traffic from the nearby street as he stared toward the Tancheon. Wisps of smoke trailed from the ember as he held it by his hip. He shook his head and chuckled. GSL meant more to him than a tournament. He remembered the early days, cheering for the fan favorites when the game was still new. He even stanned players like jjakji whose scrappy play resonated with him, even if history hardly remembered. The storylines were realer than his own lives in some ways: soO’s battles against fate, Maru’s long awaited GSL victory, INnoVation’s third title. It was all so much better than days spent going to school and studying. He’d known the scene was declining for some time. They all had. The games were still great though. The crowds were still passionate. The message boards were still active. All of that changed when the pros left. Military service had reared its ugly head and that was it. The day everyone knew was coming had finally arrived. The players and organizers weren’t so optimistic, but Blizzard was supporting GSL and Afreeca was committed to honoring their end of the bargain. It took him awhile to get used to the sixteen man GSL’s of 2019. Nightmare and DRGling were the only ones with any professional experience to sign up for the first one. The rest were amateurs. The play in the final was sloppy and uninspired, but it was good to see someone new enter the spotlight. He remembered how loud the crowds were as the series went to game seven. The fact that all the big names were gone was forgotten in that moment. When Nightmare kissed the trophy everyone was elated. A new champion for a new era.

The second final was the same. The same familiar people in the crowd. The same venue. The same half filled seats. But the mood was tepid and the cheers not so loud. The third one, more of the same. And that meant less. They had another first time champ. This time it was PenguiN, someone who'd stuck around for years, but never had a shot when the real titans were still playing.

Upstairs the light have gone out. The dressing room is dark and silent. Gyuri left after the WCS deal expired in 2018 and everything before the semifinals was played online. Jiwoo remembered how it had felt so familiar and yet so awkward when he had changed the channel to see her interviewing the star pitcher of the Doosan Bears. Park, Gisado and JYP stuck around, but even they sounded drained. He listened avidly, but the casts just weren’t the same. They felt longer even though there were less games. The writing was on the wall.

GSL was reduced to an eight man league in 2020. He was glad to hear that Leenock was back, as was Seed, but they were shadows of their former selves and it hardly seemed to matter. After all, far more people moved on or retired than came back to or stuck with the game. His generation, the ones who had grown up with StarCraft 2 were becoming adults. You can only put life off for so long. It was DRGling vs MMA in the first season of the year. DRGling was an underdog in name only and took things in a five game series, using his trademark leaping ultralisks rush to lift the trophy. Season 2 should have been heartwarming, but PartinG’s long awaited championship felt hollow to him. Yes, PartinG finally getting his title was something Jiwoo never guessed he’d see, but it wouldn’t have happened had things not gone the way they did. His friends were just as surprised as him. No one asked how they felt about it because none of them were sure. This wasn’t how he’d imagined it when PartinG debuted all those years ago.

Someone called his name. He looked towards the last few people lingering by the entrance. They waved him over. Cigarette burning low, he started towards them. They were joking and laughing. Everyone knew the final goodbye was near. When they would shaking hands, bow and part ways, maybe forever. One of them asked if he remembered that soO vs FanTaSy game on King Sejong Station. He couldn’t even hide his grin. Of course he remembered. He had a family event earlier that day, but he was a huge SKT fan and rushed off first chance he got. He barely made the train, but he caught the green line just in time. He was breathing heavy, checking his phone to make sure things hadn’t started yet the whole ride. He started talking. Faster and faster, louder than he intended. You don’t forget seeing a banshee chase down an uprooted spine after all. He brought up the time herO tried to cannon rush sOs in the Round of 8. They all broke out into laughter. They talked about more games, more series, their favorite finals. Mvp vs Squirtle one argued. No, that game on Akilon Wastes made RorO vs Symbol the best hands down. They were all great for their own reasons. He’d never forget how they made him feel. He loved StarCraft. He loved GSL. Just because it was going away didn’t change that. They all fell silent for a moment. The time had come, the trains would stop running soon enough. When he left his apartment, he told himself he was going to pout, ball his fists and curse whatever gods would listen. He had to be sad. After all this wasn’t a happy ending. But, as they parted ways, it wasn’t with a heavy heart. “Nightmare really did it,” one of them remarked with a shrug. "You think if these kept going he could have become a bonjwa?" Jiwoo chuckled. Who knows. They had to be on their way. He said he’d stick around a little longer. He lit another cigarette. The steps were clear and the lobby was vacant. He could just imagine the last lights going out upstairs. The show was over. It was the last GSL. He blinked tears from his eyes. It was time to go home.

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