Day Eight | Cherry Knots

[exorarepairings]

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Prompt #: 135
Title: Cherry Knots
Ship(s): Lu Han/Baekhyun, Junmyeon/Jongdae, Tao/Yifan
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 29k
Trigger(s): angst, mentions of sex, terminal illness, neglected childhood
Summary: Baekhyun’s used to hurting. Lu Han wants to change that: he knows the feeling all too well.
Author's note: I really didn’t think I’d be able to get here (although this is only the first section- the second half will be posted here too when I’m finished! :D). There were a lot of times where I wanted to throw this story away, but I’d always find myself picking it up again, thanks to the overwhelming encouragement from my lovely friends. This is my first fic fest (and first fic I’ve ever posted^^) and I really enjoyed it. I’d like to give a really big thank you to my dear beta: without you, this fic would most likely be in pieces. Also, a big thanks to Mods M&Y for holding such a lovely fic fest for rare pairings and dealing with my constant questions. And without further ado: this is Cherry Knots.






Fingers wound together all too firmly, Baekhyun is skittish, his eyes jittery and his palms moist. He’s been waiting for this since his freshman year of university.
Baekhyun has wanted to study abroad in India as long as he can remember; he’s studied the culture and language (he settled for Hindi, as he thought it’d be most useful) intensely, knows the geography of the country like the back of his hand, and has about 15 different stickers plastered on the back of his laptop that truly show his love and admiration for this foreign place he’s never been to.

Baekhyun’s professor taps him on the forehead to grasp his attention. Baekhyun jolts back into reality, while the teacher holds out an absolutely awful black fedora filled to the brim with snow white paper strips. Reaching forward with his right hand, he feels around a few slips before selecting one randomly and pulling it back towards him.

When Baekhyun draws the number 23 out of the hat that his professor holds out for him, he nearly screams.
There are only 23 students in his class.

Oh Sehun is waving his square of paper in the air, laughing jauntily while flaunting the ‘1’ that’s scribbled hastily on the front of the slip. Some people around him roll their eyes, while others scoff loudly. All Baekhyun wants to do is snatch that paper right out of Sehun’s hand.
He begins scheming how exactly he’s going to do that, when the professor interrupts his thoughts.

“Oh Sehun. You have first pick.”
Jealous and piercing glares all fall on Sehun, who simply grins and requests, “Ind-”
Sehun coughs suddenly, holding his head in his elbow. Baekhyun’s holding his breath so hard he’s nearly blue.
Readjusting himself in his seat, Sehun repeats, “Indonesia.”
Baekhyun lets out the longest puff of air, and waits in anticipation for his turn.

It’s going to be a long class today.
---

It’s up to number 21 now.
There are three countries left on the board now: India, China, and the Philippines.
Baekhyun has his ears open and watches keenly as number 21, Park Soo-young, the quietest in the class of rowdy youths, raises her hand timidly and utters, “The Philippines.”
Baekhyun has a chance. A slim chance, but a chance at that.

He’s chewing on a stick of peppermint gum nervously, the scent flooding his nostrils and the sticky substance getting stuck between teeth as the professor calls for number 22.
When Baekhyun sees who it is, he’s frozen.

Do Kyungsoo.
Also known as his roommate and the only other student as invested in India as Baekhyun.

Kyungsoo lifts his hand, and announces, “India.”

Baekhyun audibly groans, which prompts his professor to glare at him and Kyungsoo to flash an apologetic smile.

What kills Baekhyun more is the only country left that he now must choose.
“Alright, Mr. Byun Baekhyun gets the last pick: China.
Thank you all for taking on this rare opportunity to connect with the culture you most want to study in depth. For your term paper, you’ll have to select a thing that changed your worldview, whether it be a place, the language, or the people you meet along the way. The information pamphlets about plane tickets and housing will be waiting for you right outside the classroom.”

Baekhyun can hear the excited chattering from other students about their choices, while he silently grinds his teeth. Bitter and wanting a change, he stomps towards his professor’s desk, where his teacher is sitting leisurely with a cup of black coffee in hand.

“Wow Mr. Na, I can’t believe you’re drinking black coffee! I can never down one cup in a sitting,” Baekhyun chirps.
“What do you want, Baekhyun?” Mr. Na questions indifferently, taking a tiny sip from his drink.
“Well-I-really-don’t-want-to-go-to-China,” Baekhyun mutters quickly, his head tilted downward, his eyes darting about the floor nervously.
“Well-you’re-just-going-to-have-to-anyway, Mr. Byun. I can’t change assignments anymore, and I highly doubt anyone would be willing to give up their first choice to trade with you.”
Baekhyun stutters, “Sir, I-”
“Is there a reason why you don’t want to study abroad in China, Baekhyun?” Mr. Na cuts in, eyes boring straight into Baekhyun’s.
“Um, well-” Baekhyun trails off.

He doesn’t have a reason, really. Not one that he’d want to share anyways.

Would it hurt to tell him? The reason’s pretty pathetic, but still. He’ll listen, right-

“Mr. Byun?” Mr. Na waves his left hand in front of Baekhyun’s face.
“Oh sorry, Mr. Na. I don’t really have a reason, actually,” Baekhyun affirms faintly, shoving his hands in his shorts’ pockets.
“I didn’t think so. Now go, go to your next class.” The professor responds, turning in his swivel chair towards his computer.

Baekhyun lingers for a second or so longer before resigning to his fate and wordlessly taking his leave. When he finally exits the classroom, he finds a spot to lean against by a nearby windowsill, glancing outside and watching as the sun breaks through the clouds and the trees’ leaves wave at him.

I guess I’m paying you a visit, aren’t I?
---

When the sun has nearly kissed the horizon, Baekhyun’s already finished class and is taking his usual route back to his apartment. He’s mostly numb in the ears from hearing amplified solos in his music composition class, although he’s joyed by the fact that he didn’t have to perform today.
It’s not that he isn’t skilled at piano; in fact, many people consider him a prodigy.
Baekhyun just isn’t confident in his composing skills.

Baekhyun’s been playing piano as long as he can remember; it seemed like he was born with an itch to move his fingers (and no, not in that way).
His parents started him when he was merely five years old. Instead of joining the hollers and laughter of his friends outside, he was stretching his tiny fingers in hopes he could play tenths. Instead of learning how to ride a bicycle, he rehearsed arpeggios on repeat for hours. Instead of revising for his exams, he flew his fingers across the ivory and ebony keys until his fingers felt broken. Instead of darting around the football field and playing until the sun set, he was told he couldn’t do sports because his fingers must be protected for practicing.

Baekhyun didn’t hate the piano; frankly, he found its sound fascinating and colorful. But the endless hours spent with fingers banging against the piano and his head whirling around with only thoughts of what would happen if he stopped overwhelmed the beauty of the dominos that lay before him.
He feared the consequences, so he played.
His playing evoked fire within his fingertips, a raging in his mind; he would slam his fingers to the keyboard as if his life depended on it (which he felt like it did). Every time his mother would scream, he would just play, for what else could he do?

He used to be open with his parents, spilling his mind into his mother’s hands at bedtime when he couldn’t sleep, unlocking the door to his thoughts to let his father heal him.
But as Baekhyun grew older, those instances faded, and so did his love for his mother.
He learned to channel his emotions into his playing instead. He’d bottle them up until he could conjure tunes into his piano and let his feelings free.

He felt free for once in his life, with this instrument.
And although the piano was forced onto him, Baekhyun finds solace in the lilts when he can’t speak.
---

Baekhyun’s composition could’ve have been spectacular. But Baekhyun really can’t be bothered so it comes out as a rather rushed jumble of chord progressions with a flourish of notes every now and then. He’s not too proud of it.

Maybe if I’d actually worked on it instead of binging on YouTube videos all day…

He’s interrupted when he realizes that he’s a mere mile away from his abode. The wind is harsh against his face, although the air is sickeningly warm. He can barely hear the city’s noise as he nears his destination.
Baekhyun advances on for about another twenty minutes before he’s entering the lobby of his apartment and scrambling up the stairs because the elevator’s out of service. When he’s met by his front door, he’s pulling his keys out, jiggling the lock open, and stepping inside.
He lets out a silent sigh of relief since the day is nearly over as he tosses his schoolbag onto the floor next to his widescreen T.V.. Shuffling off his shoes, Baekhyun then slips into his favorite furry pair of slippers. Kyungsoo, his roommate, isn’t back from school yet. Baekhyun makes a mental note to text him later. Then, he paces over to the kitchen where he begins thinking about what to have for dinner.

After careful consideration and minutes of pondering, Baekhyun wants to challenge himself and actually make dinner for himself. Ever since freshmen year of university, he’s been living off of microwaveable ramen cups and 8 inch pizzas. Now, he just needs a recipe.
He contemplates just using Google to find something simple to make when he spots a thick, dusty book in the corner of the kitchen counter. Reaching over to retrieve it, Baekhyun sneezes a couple times from the accumulation of dust on the book. The book’s titled, “Good American Eats,” and Baekhyun is confused as to why this book is in his apartment, but he realizes that his mother gifted it to him when he moved out. The book seems like it was bought last century: the pages are falling out and the front title is barely discernable. Baekhyun brushes it off and simply begins searching.
Baekhyun flips through the pages, skimming past recipes that seem too difficult and those that he doesn’t have the ingredients for.

At last, he ends on a recipe for making a cheese steak. It seems straightforward: cook the meat with spices, cheese, and desired vegetables; place in bread; and serve.
He could practically do this with his eyes closed.
---

After a long hour of laboring over his meal, Baekhyun is finished with his delicacy, and frankly, he’s quite proud of it. He carries the sandwich to the table, sits down, and takes his first bite.
But what he tastes is not what he bargained for- actually, it’s kind of disgusting.

Sputtering chunks of meat onto the plate, Baekhyun is confused as to when he screwed everything up. He looks disappointedly at the remnants of his soiled dish before shooting up out of his chair and going to examine his kitchen work space to determine exactly what went wrong.
Scanning his eyes across the dirtied kitchen counter, Baekhyun doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary.
Until he sees a sack labeled “SUGAR” in all capitals lying open next to the stove.

Did I actually…?

It’s a good thing that Domino's closes late tonight, Baekhyun thinks.
---

It’s been a few hours since Baekhyun’s finished his Hawaiian pizza, and he’s watching some cartoons on his television. Kyungsoo had already come back an hour prior, eating Baekhyun’s leftovers and going to sleep immediately, explaining to Baekhyun that he’s completely fried from playing a prolonged soccer match with his pals. Baekhyun had simply nodded back at him and let him rest.
Right now, Baekhyun’s eyelids are beginning to droop and the room’s fading into black, so he shakes himself awake, just enough to grab the remote from his nightstand and click off the show he’s been watching for the past few hours. As he does, his eyes are glued to this one picture frame that sits next to his T.V.

There’s a photo of him and his father.
In it, twelve year old Baekhyun is grinning widely, his braces piercing shades of yellow and blue. His father is standing next to him, a hand ruffling Baekhyun’s hair affectionately. His father is balding in this picture.

When’s the last time Baekhyun’s seen him?
Baekhyun counts out the months and it totals to three, and he aches.

It’s been a while, hasn’t it?
His eyes rest on that single photo for some time.

I’ll see you soon. I promise.
I promise you.
---

“Class is dismissed. Have fun on your studies abroad! Now, please: get out.” The professor drawls, lounging lazily in his wheely chair. He has a pencil behind his left ear, eyes focusing intently on the sun splashing through the classroom windows.

As one student after the other files out of the dingy classroom, Baekhyun follows suit, cursing under his breath when he nearly forgets to grab his backpack on the way out.
Baekhyun saunters down the halls, the heels of his leather shoes keeping mostly silent against the tile flooring as he steps quickly. He swiftly hops down the steps of his school building, humming meaningless tunes as he makes his daily trip back home.
He knows that today is his only free day, so he might as well make use of it for something he’s been meaning to do since a few days ago.
Spinning on his feet, Baekhyun makes a detour.
---

Before beginning his quest, Baekhyun decides to stop by his favorite bubble tea shop, ordering his usual mango green tea. He jogs out of the tiny cafe promptly after his purchase, and his mission commences.

Baekhyun is trying to get to his destination as quickly as possible, but he’s stopped by his two classmates, Oh Sehun and Park Chanyeol, when he strolls past a basketball court.
“Yo, Byun Baekhyun! Come join us for a few games!”, Sehun shouts with a grin painted on his face, waving his arm wildly as Chanyeol is furiously dribbling the ball and making countless layups behind him. Baekhyun shakes his head but he’s soon being dragged over to the court by Chanyeol, who still has a basketball in hand.

The three pals compete in two or three games, yelling and shrieking when Sehun carries too much and applauding obnoxiously when Baekhyun shoots flawless foul shots. They dart about the basketball court, laughing thunderously while passing the ball swiftly amongst themselves.
As Baekhyun is attempting a three pointer, he sees the sun dipping behind the trees, and is remembers his task.
“Hey guys, I have some errands to run. I’ll catch you later,” Baekhyun pants, tossing the ball to Sehun, who receives it with a smile.
Chanyeol and Sehun wave goodbye before turning back to their game; Baekhyun nods back, grabs his backpack, and returns to his mission.

Swinging his arms in soft pendulum motions, Baekhyun parks his feet right on the edge of the curb, waiting for the light to signal pedestrian safety to walk. He’s fiddling with his keys, tossing them between his palms until the crowd that surrounds him shuffles into the street; he follows them to the other side of the road, while trying to remember the directions to the nearest train station.

Baekhyun ambles leisurely along the roadside, shuffling past tiny candlelit shops and swerving around bustling crowds, taking the time to rest his eyes on soft dangling lanterns and painted smiles that fly past him.
It’s not too humid; the weather is warm and kind, allowing for him to wear shorter clothes. The wind is swirling gently, silently brushing Baekhyun’s bangs to each side of his face. Conversations can be heard, barely; the air is floating with “I love you’s” and “Make it back home safe, alright?”. The buildings that surround him seem ancient, the brick’s hue fading slightly, the shingles of rooftops missing. There are shrieking and giggling kids toddling furiously about the sidewalk, and adults chasing after them in fits of “I’m coming for ya now!” and “Go slower, I can’t keep up!”. The sun is disappearing behind edifices languidly, and the atmosphere is soothing.
Baekhyun feels calm here. Warm. Safe.
He thinks that it’ll be okay, somehow.
---

As he makes his way through clusters of people down in the murky subway, Baekhyun is jittery and nervous. He tries to brush off the feeling as he crams himself into a train filled to the brim with hot, sticky, and sweaty humans.
At least the ride is short, he reassures himself.
---

It’s been approximately fifteen minutes since he’s boarded the train, and he is finally squeezing past others onto the platform. He accidentally crashes into a child, seemingly eight or nine years old, while exiting the car and nearly makes her fall.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there,” Baekhyun explains shakily, kneeling down to come eye level with the young girl with lopsided pigtail braids and white stockings. The girl glances at him blank-faced before letting a grin ripple through her face.

“It’s okay! Don’t worry about it; my mommy told me that accidents happen and that is okay,” the girl articulates carefully. A lady in a striped black and white pencil skirt and cream colored blouse tiptoes over, putting her arm around the girl and smiling warmly at Baekhyun. The mother nods and whispers a few reassuring words to him, before taking her leave with her daughter tightly gripping her left hand.

No one’s ever told Baekhyun these simple words, and that’s what causes him to stop in his tracks. Grumbling people push him around trying to get past, but Baekhyun is in his own world.

Accidents happen, and that is okay.

He aches, but doesn’t quite know why.
---

Once he gets off the subway, Baekhyun taps impatiently at his phone trying to find the closest florist. When he does, he immediately starts sprinting, as he observes that the day is almost spent. Panting heavily as he reaches the shop, he enters in a rush, but takes his time in picking flowers.

There aren’t many customers in the tiny shop; after all, it’s almost closing time. There are shelves lining the wall horizontally, with countless flowers of varying sizes and types sitting either in bundles or in terracotta pots on the wood. Scanning the rows, Baekhyun skims past tulips grouped together roughly and potted daisies and magnolias, when he spots a peculiar flower sitting in the lowest row in the corner of the shop. He steps towards it carefully, bending down slightly to observe it more closely.

The flowers’ petals’ edges are lined with pristine white, with the flesh of the petals a deep blushing pink hue, complete with darker fuchsia dots splattered among them. The stems in the center stick out awkwardly, with umber anthers at the top of them.
These flowers also smell utterly disgusting, and Baekhyun almost retches when he tries to get closer to them.

He knows these flowers.
The Lilium ‘Stargazer’, or the Stargazer Lily.
His father’s favorite.

Baekhyun reaches out a shaky hand and lifts the bundle off the shelf. He steps over into the line of people that begins at the cashier’s booth. When it comes to Baekhyun’s turn in line, he bounces forward quickly yet abruptly. He makes a quick purchase before bounding into the outside once again.
---

After around an hour of strolling out of the city, Baekhyun is nearing his destination. He’s exhausted, sweat smearing his rosy cheeks and his eyelids threatening to give up on him, but he presses forward. He always does.

Baekhyun strides the sidewalk alone; the roads are near empty at this time of day although the night has not yet draped its blanket over the world. When Baekhyun is taking in his surroundings, he feels a few raindrops on his shoulders, before the dark clouds above open up wider and pour down intensely. Scowling noisily, Baekhyun tugs his hood above his head, picking up his pace but also drenching his sneakers as the water accumulates on the pavement. If he tilts his head upwards, he can see birds darting across the darkened sky, trying to find shelter.

Baekhyun trudges on forward, his sweatshirt beginning to stick to his skin and his skin tight jeans feeling a little too tight. As he nears his destination, the raindrops fall at a faster rate, eventually soaking his shoes so much that it sounds as though he has sponges for shoes.
He can hear crickets chirping noisily and birds having casual chats as he finds himself standing opposite the gate at last.
But he can’t bring himself to unlock it.
It’s not like he doesn’t know how; the lock’s a simple hook. One would only need to lift the hook to unlock the gate. It’s easy. Straightforward.
Yet Baekhyun stands stiff in the same spot, lilies in hand, for what seems like milleniums. He’s finally forced to take action when he lays his eyes on the swiftly fleeting sunlight visible through gaps between trees in the far distance and is reminded of his limited time before it truly becomes pitch black outside.

He pulls the hook up, pushes the gate door open, and tiptoes past it.

The background noise fades away as Baekhyun attempts to recall where his father is. He remembers that his father should be far beyond the gates, and continues on further.
At last, Baekhyun finds him. He doesn’t know quite what he’s feeling; it’s somewhere between the butterflies flitting in his stomach and the zooming thoughts making space in his mind. Baekhyun’s felt this before, in fact. He’s felt like he’s been drifting on clouds pinching the sunset glare, felt like vines constricting him have been sliced off by dagger hands, felt like the wind could sweep him up into the atmosphere at any given moment.
He’s felt free like this before, but today is slightly different. There’s a bitter taste to the air, but the aftertaste is like honey.

Ah. It’s been a while.

“I missed you.”
Baekhyun kneels down gently, and places the lilies on the dirt guarding the granite slab that meets him.

“I really, really missed you.”
---

“I’ll need…” Baekhyun says to himself as he’s sorting through items to bring on his studies abroad.
He’s still in disbelief of what occurred the same day he was assigned his country.

“Baekhyun! Come back here for a second.” Baekhyun turns his head towards the voice echoing from the classroom he just stepped foot out of. He twists his face in confusion as he peeks his head back into the barren room. However, Mr. Na is still lounging alone in his wheely chair near the windows.
“I forgot to let you know: your country of choice is one of the few that have a student exchange. You’ll be living with an assigned roommate there,” Mr. Na states robotically, looking uninterested as he rubs the handle of his coffee mug; it’s an obvious sign of distraction.
“Wait, bu-” “No buts, Baekhyun,” The professor cuts Baekhyun off, ”Arrangements have been made already. I’ll be informing you of the specifics at a later date. But for now, get to your next class, won’t you?”
Baekhyun can do nothing but grumble as he turns around once again, and starts his way down the hallway.

Baekhyun’s bitter as hell, alright.
He packs his toiletries in one corner of his flimsy suitcase; next to it, he places his clothes along with any other items he might use during his stay.
Baekhyun spends the rest of the night crossing things off of his list as he tediously prepares for the travels that await him.
---

Not even two days after, Baekhyun’s boarding his flight, shuffling amongst countless other passengers. He hears babies whining from behind him as he steps into the aisle, crammed in between a lady who has far too many carry-ons and a man whose eyes are a sky blue, but still seem dull. Baekhyun glances back at his ticket to remind himself of his seat.
D-13, D-13, D-13…

At last, Baekhyun’s reached his seat on the far right by the windows. He sees the dark blue seat with a fleece blanket and travel size pillow covering it. As he’s heaving his second, larger carry-on into the open plastic compartment above his head, he feels a slight tap on his shoulder. Peeking over, he’s met by a flight attendant who ends up letting him know that even though his aisle consists of two seats, there won’t be anyone else sitting next to him, as this particular flight isn’t the most popular. Baekhyun silently celebrates.

After shoving his bag up above, Baekhyun drops down in his seat, exhausted, and dozes off.
About an hour later, he stirs awake. Limbs sprawled across two seats, Baekhyun pulls himself back into sitting position, before jumping up and making a quick visit to the restroom at the very end of the plane.
When he returns to his seat, a lady hands him a customs card to fill out. Baekhyun searches for a pen in his backpack for a minute before taking it out and looking at the paper.
When he realizes that most of it’s in Mandarin.
He curses under his breath, muttering frustratedly, thinking about his failed attempts at learning Mandarin. He truly did put forth his best effort, but he soon gave up after discovering that there was no alphabet and the language wasn’t phonetic. And now, he’s really regretting that he didn’t try a little harder.

After 30 minutes of guessing, asking flight attendants for assistance, tapping nearby passengers and having them help him translate, Baekhyun’s finally completed. He calls for a flight attendant whom he hands his customs card to.
No longer than 10 minutes later, the plane unfolds its legs and skids across the landing site roughly, coming to a gradual halt. When all is settled, Baekhyun follows the steady line of people to the entrance to the walkway into the airport.

However, as he steps from one platform to the other, Baekhyun face plants after tripping harshly on the suitcase that he’s dragging around. Shocked murmurs flood into the air as Baekhyun attempts to nonchalantly stand back up, but he fails to do so when papers come flying out of his pockets. There are now angry and impatient shouts from behind him. His airport documents are scattered on the floor, and he kneels down in an attempt to organize his fallen papers.

It’s going to be a long day, isn’t it?
---

“Why the hell did you sign up for this, Lu Han?” Jongdae asks half with genuine curiosity and half trying to force Lu Han to stop whining.
Lu Han is sitting by the kitchen island, his feet tapping roughly against the wood beams on the stool he’s sat on and his head propped up by his hands on the granite counter.
“I mean, I thought it’d be fun at first,” the other responds bitterly, “but after all the preparation that had to be done and the stacks and stacks of papers I had to fill out, the concept of it all isn’t too appealing anymore.”

Well that, and the fact that we’re going to have to feed another person for all of fall…

“Have you even talked to the dude yet?” Jongdae drones.
“No, but-”
Lu Han shakes his head no silently, and Jongdae lets out a thunderous cough or two.
Continuing on, “I mean, all we have to do is clean up after him and-”
“Correction: you, not we,” Jongdae interrupts, and Lu Han doesn’t have much to say after that.
Jongdae simply grumbles and mutters something about Lu Han getting himself into this mess, and readjusts his position on the couch before reaching for the remote control and flipping through stations faster than the speed of light. It’s obvious that he’s completely uninterested in Lu Han’s dilemma. Lu Han won’t take it, though.

About twenty minutes after their conversation, Lu Han has a new idea.
“Yo, Jongdae, we’re going to the store to buy more food for the new roommate,” he declares confidently, but to his dismay, Jongdae ignores him and changes to another channel.

I owe him for that one time he lended me his old class notes for Calligraphy and I haven’t returned the favor yet, but does he really think he can just brush me off…

“Jongdae.”

The man lounging on the couch coughs noisily and looks straight at Lu Han.
Lu Han is hopeful for a response, but Jongdae turns his head back to the flashing cartoon on the screen instead. Lu Han clears his throat multiple times, each time becoming louder than the last, until finally, Jongdae slams his hand on the remote, switching the T.V. off and snarling, “What the fuck is so important that you have to interrupt my relaxation time?”

“1. You sound like a lion, calm down. 2. You’re coming to the store with me to buy food.”
“No, I don’t,” Jongdae states dully, before adding, “And you’re going alone.”
“We can buy a house plant if you come with me.”
Jongdae’s entire face bursts into a wrinkly smile, and he leaps out of the couch crevice that he’s crafted and bounds over to Lu Han.
“Well, what’re we waiting for?”
---

The two men stand on the edge of the curb. Jongdae’s eyes are glued to his phone screen as Lu Han’s waving his arm frantically to flag a taxi.

It’s sweltering out; September has finally arrived, but the heat’s still unbearable. Cars are whipping past on the road before Lu Han and Jongdae, but on the intersecting street, there’s a rows of cars lined up one behind the other.The sun is splashing down on the two’s shoulders intensely. Jongdae’s dusty locks are sticking to his shiny forehead.

“Jongdae!” Lu Han shouts, turning to him and shaking Jongdae out of a trance by the shoulders when he’s finally flagged a taxi. Jongdae’s eyes widen for a moment, but then relax as the incoming taxi car slows down, parking temporarily next to them.
The car is a sleek yellow hue, but the age of the automobile isn’t a surprise; the windows have countless scratches decorating the surface of them, and there are accumulations of dirt near the bottom of the car. Sighing heavily in clouds of grey smoke, the auto has clearly been in use for a while now.

The front window of the taxi rolls down slowly, and is replaced with a face.
“Where’re you two off to,” The man asks. He has a cigarette held between his pursed lips by his two fingers; he pulls the stick out from between his flushed lips and exhales pure smoke.

“全家 (Family Market),” Lu Han states with a wide smile. The driver doesn’t return it; instead, he quietly mutters “Okay” before sticking his head out, spitting obnoxiously onto the tar, and rolling the window back up.

Lu Han steps forward and pulls the door open. He gestures to Jongdae to enter before him; Jongdae only answers him with a monotone glare as he tumbles into the worn leather car seats inside.
Once both of them are inside the taxi comfortably, the scent of cigarette smoke overtakes them. Lu Han pulls out his earphones for the car ride. The driver in the front seat shifts back around in his seat, facing the steering wheel.

As he merges back onto the main street, the driver asks dryly, “So what are you two off to Family Market for?”
“Just need some more groceries and other things,” Lu Han replies, his head bobbing to a tune that’s playing from his earbuds, too engrossed in the music to elaborate any further.
“Even though we have enough already,” Jongdae quietly growls, glaring at Lu Han, who doesn’t look back at him.
The car is soon enveloped in silence, the only sound the wind outside blowing around furiously. Lu Han is completely out of reality, and it seems as though Jongdae is, too.
“Kid.”
“What’s up?”
“Why do you need more food? Your friend was kind of vague about it,” The driver huffs impatiently, desperately trying to create conversation for his own sanity after driving around for six hours.
“Well,” Jongdae trails off, not bothering to finish his thought as he looks at the back of the driver’s head in slight fear. His irritability washes away once he sees the man pushing his foot on the gas pedal scowling.

To be truthful, Jongdae’s quite scared of this man. Yet he can’t seem to ignore him.
Even though he’s sitting, Jongdae can tell he’s tall, much taller than him. The area under his eyes is dark and fades out at the bottom; his hair seems as though it hasn’t had a comb run through it in a few years. The man has piercings scattered about his face; there’s a nose ring coming out of his left nostril, and he has another shiny ring along his upper lip. Jongdae’s not completely positive on this, but he swears that the man has an eyebrow bar as well. Facing the driver’s back, Jongdae can see the lack of tension in the man’s shoulders, as if he weren’t driving at all, but instead taking a nap in the front seat.

Jongdae muses about what the man does other than driving taxis around the vast city.

“Hey,” The driver says firmly, his head peeking behind him the tiniest bit before swerving his head around to focus on the road.
Jongdae, however, is dazed, his eyes glazed over as he blankly stares out the car window. Lu Han has his eyes closed, his earbuds still booming loudly.

“Yo, Cheekbones. ”

Shifting his legs to cross one over the other, Jongdae still is lost within his own world, the only noise the humming of the car engine and the squeaking of the steering wheel.

“Dude!” The driver half shouts, hands pulling at the steering wheel as he makes a sharp left turn at a four way intersection.

Lu Han isn’t fazed whatsoever; he’s still humming in tune to his favorite song.
Jongdae, however, nearly jumps out of his seat, before responding, “Hi!” He pauses for a moment before finally explaining their purpose of going (although he doesn’t really want to tell this menacing yet soft featured man who’s driving a car with two of them inside and who could crash if he wanted to), “There’s just this new exchange student from China who my friend here,” Jongdae gestures toward Lu Han, ”has to interact with for the entire summer. “ Jongdae pauses to think. His ears are throbbing at the clamor outside from a traffic jam caused by god-knows-what.
“What’s your name?” the driver coughs out.
Jongdae looks up, confused. “Why do you ask?”
The man brakes gradually at a stop light. “Just curious.”
“Oh,” he replies, ”I’m… Kim Jongdae.” His eyes are hung on the fleeting landscapes that pass them outside. “...and yours?”
“Junmyeon.” He makes a sharp turn, and the entire car shakes. “Kim Junmyeon.”

An air of silence blankets them as Junmyeon swerves left and right far too quickly and jerkily, rocking Jongdae and Lu Han about the back seat; Lu Han’s still blocking out everything but him and his tunes, while Jongdae is trying to find the calm inside him as he feels his brain tumbling around inside his skull.
After twenty or so minutes of Junmyeon cursing under his breath after missing green lights, Lu Han turning his music up so loud that people outside could hear it, and Jongdae keeping hush as he distracts his vibrating brain with incandescent street lights and the billowing clouds that they whizz past, Junmyeon is swinging around the corner to temporarily park in front of the store.

“Cash, please,” the driver asks, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Yes...hold on,” Jongdae says, reaching over into his jacket pockets to extract some cash. When he does, Lu Han suddenly awakens from his trance and watches as Jongdae taps Junmyeon on the shoulder. Junmyeon simply lifts his arm up and grabs for the money without turning back.
“Have fun, kids,” Junmyeon remarks as Lu Han scrambles out of the car hurriedly, remembering the reason why they even came there in the first place, with Jongdae dragging himself out lethargically.
---

Juggling the keys, Lu Han manages to shove the correct one into the lock and twist it until the door clicks open. With a million plastic bags weighing down each arm, he trudges into the living room as Jongdae’s still ascending the stairs, panting heavily with a rubber tree in a ceramic pot clutched in his palms as he nears the last step, and follows Lu Han inside.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Jongdae says, placing his new addition to his collection onto the ground by the doorway, “A random Korean exchange student will be coming here to room with us and you have no idea who he is or what he looks like.”
“I know he’s twenty years old!” Lu Han chirps as he opens the fridge door and places the freshly bought milk inside on the shelf.
“This is ridiculous. They didn’t even tell you what his name is?!” Jongdae half-shouts out of frustration, walking over to the couch and throwing himself onto the soft cushions.
“No, but-”
“This is going to be a disaster.”
“Just shut up and help me set up the bed.”
Jongdae shakes his head no, stands up from the sofa, and leaves the living room to enter the bathroom. After a few minutes, Lu Han can hear the noisy hum of the shower along with Jongdae belting out some American pop song he doesn’t recognize. He sighs, takes the mattress cover from the foyer, and walks in the direction of the guest room.

When he’s finished wrestling with the bedsheets, Lu Han returns to the living room to grab some leftovers from the refrigerator. Jongdae’s already gone to bed thirty minutes ago, complaining that the grocery trip had exhausted him, so Lu Han now sits alone at the dark wooden table, twirling his noodles around with his chopsticks.

Korean exchange student, please have mercy on us.
---

Junmyeon doesn’t like his job.
He wakes at 6 am, tumbles down the stairs, hops into his car, and drives to the station. From there, he checks in with his ever-so-lovely-in-the-morning boss who yells at him for being late although he isn’t, climbs into his taxi, and speeds off into traffic.

Junmyeon doesn’t get flagged too often, but when he does, he finds that he meets the most peculiar (and aggravating) people. Last Monday afternoon, Junmyeon was stuck driving around a bickering couple in the back seat. Both women were yelling over each other and making sour faces. Fortunately, the destination wasn’t far, and Junmyeon made it there without clawing one of their faces off.

Just the other day, he wound up driving an old man back to his apartment. The man was quiet at first, but once Junmyeon turned in the wrong direction, he wouldn’t stop hollering at him to turn back. After an excruciating hour of arguing, Junmyeon dropped him off by the sidewalk in front of his apartment.

Today, Junmyeon is hoping to have some interesting people use his service, nice people, for that matter. He’s zooming through the streets, only slowing when he sees police ticketing other cars on the sides of the road. Bored from lack of work, he reaches over and turns on the radio, flipping to his favorite classical station.
Beethoven is booming through his ears when he sees a petite man dressed in a baby-blue tee shirt and khakis waving his arm at him wildly. There’s another man, presumably his friend, stood next to him, wearing an oversized grey collared shirt and athletic shorts.
Sighing heavily, he pulls over to the right side of the road as he nears the two.

When he comes to a complete stop, he turns off the radio, rolls down his window, and sticks his head out with a cigarette held between his lips.

“Where’re you two off to,” Junmyeon asks flatly after removing the cigarette from his lips, trying to feign genuine interest. He’s weary from nothing, as usual.

“全家 (Family Market), the shorter man with the blue tee shirt on replies. Junmyeon sees him crack a smile, and responds by spitting on the ground and ducking his head back into the car.
Blue-shirt-boy climbs in first, followed by cheekbones boy. They quickly buckle their seatbelts as Junmyeon’s looking at maps on his phone, making sure he knows the route.
He turns back onto the road leisurely, tapping his feet impatiently when he’s met by a red light.

“So what are you two off to Family Market for?” Junmyeon asks, so incredibly bored with his job that he’s even talking to his customers.
“Just need some more groceries and other things,” blue-shirt-boy replies. His face is relaxed, eyes looking softly at the scenery that they’re passing.

The other boy, however, catches Junmyeon’s eye when he glances back for a few seconds. His clothing choice is quite bizarre - Junmyeon can confidently say that he’s never seen anyone pair such a formal shirt with basketball shorts. His hair gently drapes over his forehead, framing delicate cheekbones that seem perfectly defined. He somewhat resembles a nymph, Junmyeon thinks, without the flowers weaved through hair and the clothes to match it. Junmyeon rests his eyes on the boy’s glimmering almond shaped eyes, a highlight of the boy’s everlasting shining. The boy’s grey collared shirt is buttoned all the way to the top, and Junmyeon wonders whether or not he’s suffocating. Lips curled upwards as he stares out the window, the strangely dressed man sits with his limbs splayed everywhere and anywhere.
Junmyeon is, truthfully, fascinated.

“Kid.” Junmyeon drones, masking his enthrallment with bitter fatigue. His elbow is propped up on the armrest, right hand floating and dangling at a ninety degree angle.
“What’s up?” the quirkily dressed boy lifts his head off from its resting place in the palm of his hand.
“Why do you need more food? Your friend was kind of vague about it,” Junmyeon asks, looking left and right as he makes a left turn. He’s tired and bored out of his wits.

“Well,”

Silence.

Junmyeon is miffed as the boy fails to complete his sentence; the boy’s instead engrossed with the ever-so-interesting chair seat, his eyes glued onto the fabric of the pockets on the back. He can’t even fathom how this random boy, who pairs the strangest clothes together and has cheekbones carved by the gods themselves, is either A. too nervous to finish talking or B. so out of it that he drifted off mid-sentence.

For a few minutes, Junmyeon lets go of it because maybe the dude needs to recollect himself for some unknown reason. But soon, he finds himself staring at an advertisement through his windshield for some acne cream that he really doesn’t need, and he’s dying to be distracted or entertained in any way.

“Hey,” Junmyeon finally utters, awaiting a response but is still met with the constant traffic chatter outside.

“Yo, Cheekbones,” Junmyeon adds on a nickname in hopes the boy will know who he’s referring to, but all Junmyeon sees when he stares up at the rear-view mirror is the man being absolutely distracted by both his phone and the passing scenery. Scowling, Junmyeon refuses to give up.

“Dude!” Practically shouting, Junmyeon is gritting his teeth, frustrated with silence and dullness and everything in between.

“Hi!” - At last, an answer.

Junmyeon turns his head around when he approaches and comes to a halt at a bright red light.
“There’s just this new exchange student from China who my friend Lu Han here,” Cheekbones harshly nods his head to his friend who seems like he’s lost on another planet, “has to interact with for the entire summer.”

Junmyeon can barely hear what he’s saying; the cars outside are blaring in pathetic unison, ringing in his head from ear to ear. There are infuriated shouts outside from people complaining about the traffic jam, figuring out that a car burnt to a crisp is the cause of their frustration. All that the three men can hear are these overlapping noises attempting to top each other in volume and shrillness.

In the midst of the shrieking horns and shouts from outside, Junmyeon asks, “What’s your name?”

Junmyeon can hardly believe that he’s asking a stranger, a customer of his, what his name is. Usually, Junmyeon goes about his day flipping through people without retaining memory of any names, only blurry faces and their payments. He’s been doing this ever since he got the job. Sometimes, he’ll ask about their day, but usually by the next customer he’s forgotten everything. He never asks for names, and it scares him that today is the day that would change.

“Why do you ask?”

Junmyeon swerves sharply left, leaving the insufferable clamor of the world outside behind. “Just curious.”

“Oh,” the boy responds, pausing for a moment, “Kim...Jongdae.”

Junmyeon turns the wheel roughly as he makes another turn. “Junmyeon. Kim Junmyeon.”

Junmyeon can see him through his rearview mirror. He’s slouched over his arm rest, head tilted back and resting on the cushion that sticks out awkwardly from the top of his seat. Yet Junmyeon finds grace in his wilting figure, and for a second he swears he sees daisies peeping out of Jongdae’s bangs.

When the noises begin to shake the ground, Junmyeon still taps his fingers at the steering wheel. Lu Han is flipping through his playlist with glazed eyes, and Jongdae is stoic in his seat.

After about twenty minutes of jerky stops and irritatingly slow traffic, Junmyeon turns the wheel all the way around as he pulls up next to the entrance of the store.

“Cash, please,” Junmyeon’s eyes drift up toward his rearview mirror, watching them.
“Yes, hold on,” Jongdae slips his hand into his right pocket, conveniently pulling out the exact number of bills needed. Junmyeon’s palm is facing him, and Jongdae simply places the money in his hand.

Junmyeon watches as Lu Han exits the car swiftly in a surprising burst of energy; Jongdae follows suit, but takes his time unbuckling his seatbelt, re-tying his shoelaces, and pulling himself out of the car. Sighing heavily, Junmyeon stares as the two men, dressed quirkily and acting quirkily, bound into the Family Market, the only evidence of their arrival the automatic doors sluggishly closing behind them.

He knows that the boy’s name is Jongdae, but Cheekbones leaves a sweeter taste on Junmyeon’s tongue.
---

Even though mopping up dried urine and sweeping up dust and cobwebs is disgusting and painful, Tao refuses to give up his job at the Forbidden City.

He’s just been in need of some extra cash so he can properly dine at his absolute favorite high-end restaurant a few times. Clogged toilets won’t stop him.

Tao’s shown up extra early to work every day, greeting his manager with plastic smiles and silicone words. He detests working here, but his end goal is something that reminds him that his hours-long endeavors to fully clean smelly bathrooms will be worth it in the end.
Tao doesn’t have many friends on the job; sure there’s Meng Jia who’s stationed at the entrance booth and Yixing who’s constantly in a different place leading tours, but Meng Jia has always been too outspoken for Tao to match and Yixing has closer friends, like Yifan.

Oh yeah, Yifan.

Tao doesn’t usually converse much with Yifan other than Yifan uttering a few words of, “Throw out this trash, will you?” and “Quick, can you cover my 4:00 P.M. to 5:15 P.M. shift, I want to take a nap in the supplies closet.”
Tao’s kept his fair distance from Yifan, partially because he’s slightly intimidated by his height, but mostly because he can always spy him talking to Yixing, the two suspiciously glancing in his direction.

So, yes. Tao doesn’t really have his share of companions on the job, but he manages by occupying himself with other thoughts.

Today, Tao peers down at his phone screen reading 8:21 A.M. He leans against a stone sink in an empty bathroom, the facility untouched by the public since the palace only opens in about 9 minutes.
His eyes catch a transparent raindrop threatening to fall from a Y-shaped tree branch outside. Near it, he can spy a rather large cobweb that connect the branches like webbed feet on a duck. There’s a tiny black spider clinging to the inner gossamer threads, lurking next to an innocent fruit fly caught in the very center of the web. It twitches silently, and Tao witnesses the spider claw at the fly harshly, before engulfing it entirely. For some reason, Tao gulps nervously, but the tension seeps away quickly.
He glances up towards the azure patches of sky and wonder how today will pan out.
---

Yifan is consistently scrambling to catch the bus to work each day, his shirt buttoned rashly and his shoes not fully on. Last night, it had rained, and all this means to Yifan is soggy socks and damp hair. And that today will be busier than usual.

Yifan knows the people of Beijing pretty well; he knows that people will hike when the sun is gentle against skin and go into museums when it’s broiling out. He would’ve never thought that Forbidden City would rake in so many tourists the morning after a pounding rainfall, but time and time again he’s found himself struggling to keep up with the lines in the gift shop that extend far outside the entrance when the grass is dewy.

The Forbidden City truly is magnificent, although Yifan doesn’t appreciate it much in its entirety. He’s usually complaining about his work hours and taking far too many breaks in the lounge during the day.

Yifan sometimes wishes that he were a tour guide in the palace rather than the head of the gift shop; he knows the culture of the place decently and is generally friendly with customers. The only thing holding him back is none other than Huang Zitao, who he spends a good two hours staring at when the rush is tame.

Tao is incredible in Yifan’s eyes; a worker who’s diligent even though his job is unpreferable and who’s kind to authority, almost too kind. Yifan knows that Tao’s not too fond of him, but he’s still unsure why.

Yifan really only mingles with Yixing, who is a tour guide. Yifan spends most of his time fawning over Tao or talking to Yixing about how cute Tao looks when he’s concentrating. Yixing mostly replies in long drawn sighs and rolling eyes, although his lips often pull into a smirk when Yifan’s cheeks become rosy when he realizes how much he thinks about Tao.
Yifan’s only exchanged a few words with Tao, and when he has, Yifan thinks he’s come off too strong by asking whether Tao will take over his shift so he could take a break.

By the time that Yifan arrives at the entrance of the imperial palace, the place is already brimming with visitors, and Yifan struggles to fight through the crowd to dash to the gift shop, where he expects his irritable manager to be waiting for him.
When he’s finally inside, the mass is more dispersed, which allows him to race to the shop with ease. However, it’s another battle as he pushes past the line that’s snaking around outside from the store.

Yifan slips into the store after a few minutes of pushing past people who yell at him for cutting in line and him having to explain that he works there; when he steps foot into the center of the shop, he feels the ground shake from the booming vibrations from shouts of tourists. The entire store is in a frenzy with irritated faces meeting each other and items being clawed after. Yifan is still able to see his manager hopping around behind the counter alongside Tao, who is frantically working the cash register while trying to tell the crowd to settle down.

“Yifan!” his manager screeches, motioning anxiously for Yifan to come closer so that they can hear each other without having to shout at ten decibels.

“S-Sorry for being late-”

“There’s no time for apologies; just be grateful that Tao’s been holding the fort down for you,” Yifan’s manager mutters, then turns away and yells at Tao to go back to his original station before escaping through the back exit of the store.
Tao’s eyes are darting around so quickly that his pupils are just a dark blur; he takes one glance at Yifan and nods towards the register before wordlessly retreating back to his post.
Yifan’s never been one to talk this early in the morning, but he has to make an exception so that the multitude of people won’t crush him.
The lady who meets him at the counter is seething after having waited over ten minutes for the employees to resettle, and Yifan’s afraid that she’ll actually stab him with the fake sword souvenir she’s grasping in her right hand. People are attempting to push her aside, waving their selections in the air and leaping to get Yifan’s attention.
He presses the register open to find it barren of any coins.

Rainy days never did treat me well.
---

It’s break time for Yifan, who gladly spends it looking out the window at Tao while he munches on leftovers from last night’s dinner. Today, Tao’s lunch break is a little later than usual, so he’s busy mopping the floor in a new exhibit that’s yet to be opened to the public on account of its wreckage.

Yifan takes a bite of his tuna sandwich and watches as Tao disinterestedly walks around, dragging the mop behind him but still managing to clean the dirty tiles. Yifan can see Tao’s dreary eyes staring down at the mop as if it were able to somehow dance on the floor itself.

Yifan expects Tao to continue washing the floor.

Yifan doesn’t expect for Tao to step on the mop, wringing out any excess water, and picking it up and swinging it around. He can’t really discern whether Tao’s just flailing the mop around or doing wushu, but he assumes it’s the latter.

For a few minutes, Yifan gasps in awe and concentrates intently on Tao, who’s putting on quite an impressive show. Tao is twisting the mop in so many directions that Yifan’s head begins to spin; with eyes focusing on the mop that’s twirling up and down and around Tao, Yifan is floored by Tao’s wushu skills.
Tao’s completely in his own world, turning on his heels and jabbing the air with the mop seemingly effortlessly. There’s a haunting yet ethereal quality to Tao’s movements with how they strike hard but still blend together softly. With every swipe, Yifan hallucinates the glinting of the stick in Tao’s hands. In this moment, Tao is real to Yifan and Yifan feels each and every movement in his own chest, as if a creature were fighting to escape his ribs. Yifan is utterly captivated, almost in a trance with Tao’s power.

Until Tao steps forward and accidentally stabs an artifact case straight down the center, shattering the glass with a horrifying cracking noise right as the manager strolls past him.

Yifan, mouth filled with tuna, stares at Tao, who winces as the manager hollers at him. Yifan can see that Tao is trying to explain it was an accident, but his manager simply brushes off his attempts at explaining and reprimands him instead.
For some reason, Yifan is compelled to run over there, so he does just that.
He rashly sets down the remainders of his sandwich and bolts through the door, jogging all the way to where Tao and his manager are.

As he nears the two, Yifan can hear his manager shrieking unnecessarily loudly at Tao, who has his head tilted down towards the ground, hands fidgeting behind his back.
“You’re fired.” Tao’s head jerks up suddenly to see Mr. Qing’s flaring eyes.
“Bu-But you can’t be serious, you can’t fire me,” Tao sputters, staggering in place, bewildered.
“Why the hell wouldn’t I?” The manager spouts, arms crossed tightly.
“Because he’s one of your best goddamn employees here,” Yifan circles around to stand next to to Tao, who is shell-shocked by Yifan’s abrupt entrance. Yifan can see that his manager is surprised as well.
“And frankly, he keeps everything so damn clean here. If it weren’t for him, we’d all be trudging through mold and dirt and piss.”

Tao nudges Yifan subtly and gives him a look that so clearly says what the hell are you doing you’re going to get fired too.

Yifan ignores him and turns back to his manager.

“But he broke the case and nearly damaged the artifact inside-”
“But he also took on my job when I was late. He’s always early to work and does what you want him to. Can’t you let up at least once?” Yifan interjects, eyes locked with his manager, whose lips are in a straight firm line.

The three men stand there, Tao looking around in attempt to distract himself and Yifan and Mr. Qing staring each other down.
After what feels like eternities, his manager grumbles, “...Just get back to work…” and begins to hike back to his office, hands still in stiff fists at his sides.

Yifan is grinning so hard that he feels like his face might freeze, but he’s okay with that. He turns his head to Tao, who’s already bending over and picking up his mop and cleaning the tiles once again.

Yifan takes it as his sign to leave; Tao’s never really spoken to him much before anyways.
Yifan turns around and he swears that he hears a soft “Thank you” from behind him when he heads back to the shop.
---

“This is it...right?”
Baekhyun is standing in front of the entrance to what should be his new home for the next few months. With one hand on his suitcase, he leans forward just enough to press the doorbell, which rings a strange tune that repeats about three times. At last, on the third ring, the door violently swings open, and Baekhyun is met by a man who’s slightly shorter than him in stature. He wears a bored expression on his face which doesn’t faze Baekhyun in the least.

“Are you...Lu Han?” Baekhyun tilts his head to the right slightly, smiling sweetly, attempting to put out a good first impression so he won’t get booted out. The man in front of him, however, returns his question with a look that screams why-am-i-here-answering-doors-for-imbeciles.
The man turns his head back into the apartment abruptly.
“Yo Lu Han, why the fuck is it that your little exchange student knows your name but you don’t know his?” The man shouts behind him, causing Baekhyun’s grin to falter even though he can’t understand the quick Mandarin that the man’s spewing out, but he quickly forces it back.
Muffled noises escape through the open door, but Baekhyun still can’t understand what Lu Han’s saying inside. The man simply stares back behind the door and sighs before muttering for Baekhyun to come inside.

Baekhyun takes all his belongings onto his arms and hobbles into the apartment, following the man who’s already sat down, fiddling with his phone. Lu Han seems to be nowhere in sight.

After carelessly tossing his luggage by the door, Baekhyun stands alone at the entrance, taking a moment to soak up his surroundings.
There’s a neat little coffee table flooded with papers positioned on a rug to his left in what he assumes to be the living room. A leather couch that’s peeling slightly is tucked behind the table, spanning the length of the living room wall. Curtains drape across the far end of the living room; the edges and center of the window are exposed because of the size of the screen behind it. This allows lines of sun gleam to seep through the borders of the curtains, which run jagged along the apartment walls and floor.

As Baekhyun turns to his right, he sees vegetables piled on a cutting board with abandoned kitchenware in the vicinity. The stove has flames flickering along the surface, heating the pots and pans that sit comfortably above with the aid of burner grates in the four corners of the stovetop. An island counter resides in the center of the kitchen, with plates already placed in front of each seat.

The last thing that attract Baekhyun’s eyes is the picture frame that’s situated on the end table nearest him.
In the frame is a boy that Baekhyun guesses is around five years old. The boy’s pictured sitting leisurely on his father’s shoulders, the father grasping his mother’s right hand. All three have grins glimmering out of their faces, and Baekhyun wonders who the boy is.

In the midst of his daydream, he’s interrupted by a creaking open of a door from down the hall of the apartment.

A man steps out of the shadows gently, hand brushing through his auburn hair. He gazes over to the kitchen, but soon turns back to Baekhyun with a tiny smile.
“Isn’t he adorable,” the man on the couch chirps in a far too sweet voice. His head jerks up so he can make eye contact with Baekhyun.
“What a sweet little thing, am I right?”
“Jongdae, I swear to god,” the man standing by the hallway spits through his teeth, eyes burning daggers at the other.
“Yes, Lu Han?” Jongdae, pleased, looks up at Lu Han.
“You both...speak Korean?” Baekhyun’s too startled by the familiar language to seem angry any more.
“Yes, well, this...lovely friend of mine,” Lu Han gestures with his hand towards Jongdae on the couch, “you see, he’s actually Korean, but he’s been studying Mandarin here in Beijing for some reason that’s beyond me. But at the earlier stages of Jongdae’s learning process, his favorite activity was insulting me in Korean so I wouldn’t understand,” Lu Han walks over to a kitchen stool, which he leans against, one foot on the chair bar and the other on the floor, ”so naturally I had to learn a little bit to make sure Jongdae wouldn’t crap on me whenever he wanted to.”
Baekhyun stares back at Jongdae, who simply gives him a toothy grin.

His act quickly wearing off, Baekhyun kicks off his shoes and replies, “Yeah, okay,” before making his way to the far end of the couch and plopping down onto the seat.

“But... you must be….?” Lu Han states confidently, smile overflowing with glimmering white. “Byun Baekhyun.” He states monotonically, leaning his head towards the edge of window screen where he is able to catch a glimpse of the outside. He crosses his legs harshly, his finger tapping on the couch armrest incessantly.

“Anyways, I’ll leave you two off to mingle,” Jongdae groans as he picks himself up from his couch indent. He promptly ventures down the hall and enters a room, shutting the door semi quietly.

Baekhyun turns back to his original point of view after watching Jongdae leave the room.
“What’s got you so ticked off?” Lu Han asks curiously as he stands up from his chair to begin chopping vegetables at the kitchen counter. “Rough arrival?”
“Yeah, I didn’t exactly choose to come here,” Baekhyun sighs, eyes heavy with annoyance.
Lu Han spins around in the middle of washing his hands to face Baekhyun. “Really?” Lu Han wipes his hands on his jeans hastily. “I thought you chose which country to go to.”
Baekhyun doesn’t look back at Lu Han; he instead responds: “Well, long story short: too many people wanted the same country so we had to pick out of a hat instead, and now I’m here.”
Lu Han’s eyebrows suddenly furrow deeply, his eyes focusing on the floor.

After a few seconds, Lu Han gazes back up at Baekhyun, but struggles to focus.
Baekhyun doesn’t notice it.

“Well, I hope that I can make your trip worthwhile.”
Baekhyun, surprised, immediately turns towards Lu Han, who’s back to cutting vegetables, but tilts his head back just enough so Baekhyun can receive a hint of a smile.
Baekhyun shakes himself out of believing him.
---

“So, I was thinking,” Lu Han readjusts himself in his seat, “that I could help you with Mandarin, so that you can go about your days without struggling too much.”
Lu Han and Baekhyun are sat at the dining table opposite each other, with Baekhyun blatantly uninterested in whatever Lu Han has to say.

“Baekhyun.”

No answer.

“Baekhyun.”

Silence.

“Baekhyun.”

“What did you say?”
Startled by the breach of silence, Lu Han smiles tentatively at Baekhyun, who doesn’t even bother to pay attention to him. “I thought it’d be best for you to start learning Mandarin tomorrow. When you’re not tired from your flight and all,” Lu Han reaches his hand back to itch his neck, which is engulfed almost entirely by a turtleneck, so he has to pull the neck section away.
Baekhyun again doesn’t make a single noise for a few minutes; lips forming a straight line and eyes drooping, he instead pulls his elbows onto the table and rests his chin in his hands, head swaying from side to side as if a ballad were playing in the background.

Lu Han sighs in surrender, and gets up out of his chair to pour himself a cup of lemonade. As he shuffles through the refrigerator’s contents, Lu Han can’t see Baekhyun, who has finally awaken from his short daze, watching Lu Han as he takes a large bottle of apple cider out from the fridge, as well as a carton of cherries he had bought just earlier.
Lu Han pours himself a small glass, and as soon as he tilts the bottle back upright, he hears a cough from behind him. He turns to see a pair of eyes looking at him, but then focusing on the apple cider on the counter.

“Would you like some cherries, Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun shakes his head no. “Not my...favorite.” He jerks his head to gesture at the drink.

Lu Han pours Baekhyun a cup full and takes the apple cider to the table, with one cup in each hand. He leans over his end of the table to place the glass before Baekhyun, who’s eyeing it intensely. Lu Han sits back down in his seat.

“Tomorrow...would be fine,” Baekhyun looks
up from his nearly empty glass. His eyes are softer now; they’re dull and solid but still softer, in a way.
Lu Han beams, and Baekhyun soaks up his shining.
---

Mandarin, Baekhyun concludes once again, is a real pain in the ass to learn.
It’s been a week since his first mini lesson with Lu Han, and he still can’t ask where the bathroom is.

Baekhyun’s been trying to make sense of it all, he really has. It’s just that the four tones really mess with his head and then there’s fact that there’s no alphabet to rely on.
That first day Baekhyun tried to learn was definitely bumpy; Lu Han spent about 2 hours teaching Baekhyun exactly how to say ‘你好，你好吗？’ [Hello, how are you?]. ‘你(nǐ)’ and ‘好(hǎo)’ are pronounced in the third tone, and ‘吗(ma)’ in the fourth, Lu Han told him. Baekhyun still didn’t really understand what Lu Han meant, so he didn’t even want to attempt pronouncing the words. Lu Han even sounded out the characters for Baekhyun in Korean, yet Baekhyun still was tripping over whether 你 came before 好 or not.

Past lunch time, Lu Han urged Baekhyun to let him teach him for another little while. Baekhyun begrudgingly nodded in agreement.
Baekhyun was slightly better than that morning; he finally knew how to say that phrase correctly. Lu Han, deciding that Baekhyun could handle more complex sentences, fed Baekhyun a few sentences to copy and to recite out loud. There was one sentence that particularly tripped Baekhyun up, however. He simply couldn’t get the first three characters of the line to sound right.

“他妈的儿子是太调皮的。” (That mother’s son is so naughty). Lu Han sounded it out slowly for Baekhyun to follow.
“他...妈 的..” Baekhyun struggled to replicate Lu Han’s accent, repeating the first three characters just as Jongdae walked into the living room.

Lu Han and Baekhyun turned to Jongdae, who completely lost it, clutching his stomach and bending over so much he nearly folded in half.

“I can’t believe you’re teaching him curse words,” Jongdae spit out between chuckles in smooth Mandarin.

Eyes widening in realization, Lu Han stood up off the couch. “That’s enough for today!”
Jongdae snickered in the background at Lu Han, who sent him a death glare.
Baekhyun, seemingly disappointed but hiding a grin between his lips, jumped up and said, “Sounds good.”
---

It doesn’t sound so good now.
When Lu Han’s finished with his own classes for the day, he tries to force Baekhyun to absorb Mandarin like a sponge, and frankly, all it’s doing is making Baekhyun more and more frustrated. However, every time Lu Han begins a lesson, he’s still as cheerful when they finish for the day, and Baekhyun wonders why Lu Han hasn’t gotten sick of him yet.

“他要上街去买菜.” (He needs to go to the market to buy groceries.)
Baekhyun attempts sounding out each character, but fails. Lu Han could swear Baekhyun is butchering the pronunciations on purpose, so he tries to sound it out again for him. Baekhyun doesn’t listen and instead tries to speak over Lu Han, which only ends up with the two shouting over each other about pronunciations.

The two finally stop and swallow silence when they hear Jongdae yell a few words that sound a little like “I’m leaving because you guys are so goddamn noisy.” Lu Han giggles softly as Jongdae bounds out the door swiftly.
Baekhyun’s eyes smile, but only a little.
---

12:23 A.M., Sept 2
Rough arrival. But I guess the hosts are kind, although Jongdae slightly pisses me off.
Lu Han’s my partner. He’s really courteous, which is nice, but it’s difficult to be cheerful to amuse him when all I want to do is hop on a flight back home. I didn’t sign up for China, yet here I am.
The first lesson was, in short, kind of irritating. It’s so strange how Lu Han never got angry at me even when I swear he knows I’m faking.
The apartment’s roomy, so it’s not too bad. Everywhere outside reeks of garbage and it’s kind of disgusting, but it’s not like I haven’t smelt it before.
She doesn’t know I’m here. I hope she doesn’t find out, but I swear she had a sixth sense the last time I saw her, so it might be inevitable. But that’s besides the point.
Observations:
China has a lot of pollution.
It looks like the sun hasn’t come out in years.
Beijing is pretty lively even at late hours.
I still need to gather more information for my paper. This journal isn’t really helping though; it’s a pain to write in. This is cringy already, I don’t really… write in journals, but Mr. Na’s going to flip through them, so I guess I should put forth a little effort in writing something.
Notes: Keep an eye out.

---
“So tell me, why are we here?” Baekhyun asks, pulling his hood up as the drizzle seeps through his hoodie.
“It’s my favorite place to go,” Lu Han grins, pulling his hair back into a ponytail to prevent it from sticking to his forehead. He pulls out a small camera, an old Nikon, and snaps a picture of Baekhyun before he can even notice.
“Yah!” Baekhyun yells, shielding his face with his arms. “Don’t waste your storage on me-”
“Don’t be silly, babe,” Lu Han laughs, taking another photo with a satisfying click.
Baekhyun scowls, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Don’t call me that either, you’re so annoying-”

Lu Han hums a tune and ignores Baekhyun as he walks down the shiny concrete patches. Baekhyun stays put, arms crossed. “Baek, hurry up.” He doesn’t reply, so Lu Han settles with grabbing a protesting Baekhyun by the arm down the alleyway between the shops.

The market has a sea scent, but the smell of garbage lining the sidewalks still manages to filter through. The sky is drawn out with grey blotches, the clouds filled to the brim and starting to harshly drip onto the pavement. Baekhyun passes men who try to shove flyers into his hands and gets drenched running away from under the booth roofs.

“Why didn’t you bring an umbrella,” Baekhyun mutters, pulling his hood down tightly. Lu Han chuckles.
“Didn’t think it was necessary, but it looks like the rain’s getting heavier, so,” Lu Han pulls Baekhyun back under the roofs,”Let’s stay under here.” Baekhyun rolls his eyes.

It’s only mid afternoon when Lu Han asks him whether he wants anything to eat. Baekhyun shakes his head no but Lu Han insists on having him try street food you’ll “never get anywhere else”.
Lu Han stops in front of a tattered booth, a few glass cases with golden dough sticks displayed on wire shelves sitting on the table. “Want one?” He points at the food and turns to look at Baekhyun.

“What are they? And I told you, I’m not really hungry-”
“They’re called 油条! (fried dough sticks) They’re perfect in weather like this.” Lu Han tilts his head around, looking at the sky as if to confirm his claims.
“Are they really?” Baekhyun drawls out, unconvinced. However, he still takes a step forward, eyes melting into the glow of the food cases that light up the worn down table.
“Yes, man. I’ll get two,” Lu Han replies, reaching into his pocket to take out some Chinese yuan.

He speaks a few words of Mandarin to the vendor, and the man takes two dough sticks out from the case with tongs and gives them to Lu Han.

Lu Han extends his hand out to force one stick into Baekhyun’s hand. “Hey, be careful, that’s-”

Baekhyun takes a bite, and screams.

“...hot.”

Baekhyun has his tongue sticking out, fanning it with his hand frantically. “Thanks for the warning.” He says flatly, shoving the food back into Lu Han’s arms.

Lu Han smiles apologetically, tossing the remains of Baekhyun’s portion into the trash, and then taking a careful bite at his own.

After a few minutes of Lu Han dragging Baekhyun over to several different tables, and Baekhyun still indifferent, Lu Han approaches a fish booth, where customers can choose the fish they want by looking through the tank at the bottom of the booth. “We should get something for dinner later…” Lu Han murmurs, squatting down. His eyes follow the fish that swim rapidly across the tank.

Baekhyun stands right in front of the booth, head peering down from above the water. “What about that one?” He points to a large bass remaining still in the corner. “Looks like it has a lot of meat to offer.”

Lu Han obliges and requests for the bass. The vendor dips the net into the tank and scoops up the fish. But just as the fish breaches water, it jerks suddenly, causing a wave of water to splash Baekhyun in the face.

Lu Han’s standing with his mouth open in an O shape. The vendor drops the fish back and apologizes profusely, offering discounts to Lu Han, who rejects them.

“Let’s just,” Baekhyun wipes his face with his jacket sleeve. “buy it and go home.”

Lu Han nods hurriedly and the vendor pulls the fish back, killing it on a cutting board by thumping it with a knife then cutting it into pieces which go into a plastic grocery bag. Lu Han snatches the bag, bows in thanks, and motions for Baekhyun to follow him on the way back to their apartment.

“I still have a carton of cherries at home if you want any,” Lu Han chirps, hands swaying back and forth with the bag.
Baekhyun groans. “Why are you so goddamn obsessed with cherries? They stain your teeth and there’s pits inside them.”

Lu Han stops in his tracks, places his hand on his face, and thinks.
“Well, first and foremost, they taste good, “ Lu Han smiles at the thought, “Second, you can buy them in bulk easily, and third, you can try and make knots with the stems.”

Baekhyun scoffs and shakes his head. “But they still make you look like you turned into a vampire.”
“I think it’s nice. Like it’s a declaration of, ‘Cherries are my favorite and I want everyone to know’.” Lu Han chews on his lip.
“That’s silly.”
Lu Han doesn’t listen, grin widening. “You think it is.”

The two continue on home. The rain hasn’t let up much; the puddles reach almost inches deep in the crevices of the concrete. The two creep around them carefully, but Baekhyun’s one unfortunate step changes that.

Half his sneaker is submerged in the swampy green water, and he’s frozen in his spot.

“Don’t,” Baekhyun grits his teeth, “worry. It’s okay.” But out of nowhere, Lu Han steps into the puddle with one foot as well. He sighs in fake frustration. “Man, these puddles are everywhere.”

Baekhyun takes his foot out and stomps it on the ground. “You’re so annoying…” Lu Han only gives him a wide grin. “These puddles are pretty big, though.”

But on the way home, Baekhyun can’t help but turn away and smile.
---

Jongdae doesn’t go to the cafe down the street often, but when he does, he stays there for a good few hours, lounging and finishing up any homework or studying. He has this spot by the window that he’s practically claimed for himself, seeing that no one ever sits there, despite it being the best table in Jongdae’s opinion.

Today, a Thursday, it’s still relatively early; it’s around 1:00 P.M. when Jongdae gets fed up with Lu Han and Baekhyun shouting and about an half hour later, he’s settled comfortably in his seat at his favorite window table.

Having spent so many hours at the cafe, Jongdae knows how dynamic its atmosphere can get. On Saturdays, business is always high, with some people filtering in and out the entrance; others sit at tables that are scattered about the shop. During the weekdays, the shop is less crowded, as most simply purchase and leave to attend classes and other obligations. Jongdae’s made friends with the workers here, namely Song Qian who is probably the most skilled at making the drinks and Zhou Mi, the manager who still can’t manage to remember Jongdae’s name sometimes because it’s foreign to him. He appreciates their company, mostly because he spends the majority of his time here alone with his papers and coffee.

One of Jongdae’s favorite things about the cafe is that he is able to see so many people rush in for a quick cup and see others stroll in casually with a few friends along with them. Jongdae observes a wide spectrum of customers, from middle aged women who tug their children along to teens in their high school years. The hustle and bustle of the shop is what keeps the fairy lights strung across the ceiling and dangling down above tables lit and glowing, Jongdae thinks.

The window sills are littered with fake leaf garlands, and the tables with mini pockets of fall in the center. Although it’s still quite humid outside, Jongdae knows that fall is in full swing.
Jongdae sits at his table for a few hours today, sipping on his black coffee and watching the streets outside buzz with people among other things.

After about an hour and a half of completing assignments and chatting with Song Qian about the English literature class they have every morning, Jongdae decides to sightsee today since he has more time. Usually, he’s stuck studying for hours at a time.
Jongdae settles on the China Science and Technology Museum, which closes at 5 P.M. today. He still has two hours before closing time. Grabbing his backpack and tossing his empty cup into the trashcan, he bids farewell to Song Qian and tells her to say hi to Zhou Mi for him. Jongdae strolls out of the cafe leisurely, feeling waves of heat envelop him as he begins his walk. The museum is quite far, but Jongdae is confident that he can still make it with over an hour to spare.

And so Jongdae walks briskly through the active city, the sun still high and glowing in the blue drenched sky.
---

Jongdae barely makes it to the museum in time; he arrives at the door at around 4:25 P.M., but the ticket line is nearly empty since closing time is near.
After quickly paying for entrance into the museum, Jongdae wanders around the bottom floor, dipping his feet into multiple exhibits. There are barely any people left in the halls; most have already gone home.

Walking briskly, Jongdae meets an electronic map at one corner of the bottom floor of the museum. The glowing screen displays many of the exhibits that Jongdae has already gone through, like the Glory of China Hall, where he spent a good few minutes reading the plaques in front of artifacts and admiring the art there, or the Sci-Tech and Life Hall, where he attempted to wrap his head around the complex technology in that particular exhibit. Jongdae peruses the map, and the one hall that especially catches his eye is the Exploration and Discovery Exhibit, which is on the second floor on the entire other end of the museum. There’s only about ten minutes until closing.

I mean, exploring and discovering is fun, right?

Jongdae pulls his backpack more securely towards him, and sets off to his destination. He follows the signs on the walls of the halls, which directs him to a staircase off in the far corner. Jongdae, eager to find the exhibit, bounds towards the stairs, hopping up the steps.
When Jongdae reaches the Hall A, there’s a employee at the front who hands him a guide, telling him about the eight different exhibitions that reside inside the halls, but also warning him that he must leave at least two minutes before closing. Jongdae nods at her, and enters the hall, looking at the guide intently.
He settles to check out the Law of Motion exhibition for now and visit the others at a later time; he didn’t expect for this exhibit to be split into smaller ones.
Hall A is completely abandoned; it looks as though this particular exhibit isn’t very popular, despite the near closing time. Jongdae strolls through the Law of Motion exhibition, gazing in awe at the different machinery that demonstrates theories and laws at the push of a button. The exhibition is dim, with miniscule light bulbs lighting the pathway, and all that Jongdae can hear is the calm humming of the workings of the museum enveloping the atmosphere.
Jongdae turns the corner and finds the exact area he’s been looking for: the Law of Motion section.

The only thing keeping him from stepping in further is a man standing right in front of that section. He seems to be reading the plaque that’s planted in front of him, hands tucked in the pockets of his dark wash skinny jeans. The sleeves of his flannel are rolled up roughly, reaching his elbows. Jongdae wonders for a moment why the man’s alone, but as soon as the man shifts in place and starts to turn towards Jongdae to presumably exit, Jongdae’s eyes bulge out in shock and he nearly jumps. Jongdae darts around the corner, swiftly walking through Hall A.
When he reaches the entrance of the hall, he waves goodbye to the employee who wishes him a good night, to which Jongdae is too distracted to respond. He scrambles down the stairs and out the door in a matter of seconds. Jongdae stops himself outside of museum, chest heaving and breaths erratic. The sun outside is taking the late train home today, and Jongdae notices. With the wind soft on his cheeks, Jongdae nearly forgets the man. He takes time to absorb the information he learned today, instead.

Jongdae knows that the Law of Motion states that objects stay at rest when they are at rest, and objects in motion stay in motion, unless acted on by an unbalanced force. Life is kind of like this, Jongdae thinks; it ceaselessly begins every morning and ends every night. It makes sure to keep trotting on, for the world keeps spinning without anyone’s approval.
And Jongdae notes to come back for another visit.
---

It’s nearing the end of September, and October is seeping through. Baekhyun has felt it in the atmosphere; the weather’s becoming more breezy and he’s had to break open his stack of autumn clothes.

Today, Baekhyun and Lu Han are going through another lesson. Baekhyun’s still quite amateur, but Lu Han has been praising him for his “drastic improvement”.

“今天天气真冷.” (Today, the weather is very cold.)
Lu Han has his eyes glued to the sheet of paper as he writes out the sentence for Baekhyun to read.
Baekhyun is still struggling with pronunciation, but he exaggerates it because he wants Lu Han to get angry. He wants Lu Han to blow up at him and give up on helping him learn Mandarin, because frankly, all he wants to do is go back home.

“This is so useless,” Baekhyun drawls, hand rubbing his forehead, “Pronunciation is so hard, y’know.”

Lu Han looks up after he’s finished writing. “Well, it doesn’t have to be! Here, just repeat this after me: Jin tian tian qi zhen leng,” Lu Han recites with a perfect accent. He gestures towards Baekhyun, who has his arms folded in annoyance.

“Jan tieng qio zhan lin,” Baekhyun repeats, elongating vowels on purpose, but Lu Han doesn’t look one bit angered.

“It’s getting better, definitely!” Lu Han smiles at Baekhyun.

Baekhyun doesn’t notice that Lu Han’s grin falters.

Baekhyun scoffs. “As if.”

Lu Han simply throws another smile Baekhyun’s way. “I have to piss, I’ll be right back. If you’re hungry, I bought another carton of cherries.”
“Don’t rush. And I think I’ll pass.” says Baekhyun, who watches Lu Han frown jokingly and stand up to walk to the bathroom. He swears he sees Lu Han stagger.
---

It’s been twenty minutes since Lu Han’s left to the restroom, and Baekhyun would be lying to say that he isn’t the slightest bit concerned. He pulls himself up out of chair and heads to the bathroom. Baekhyun jiggles at the door, but the handle isn’t budging at all.

“Lu Han?”

“What’s up?”

Baekhyun sighs in relief at the sound of Lu Han’s voice. “You okay in there?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Give me another minute.” Baekhyun can hear coughing from inside the room, but he obeys. He steps away from the door and retreats back to the table where they both study.
Lu Han emerges from the bathroom after a few minutes and sits back down.

“What took you so long?”
“I ate some bad pork earlier. No worries,” Lu Han states casually, turning back to the papers.
“Did you throw up?” Baekhyun persists.
“That’s not impor-”
“Did you throw up?” Baekhyun repeats, placing one hand on Lu Han’s shoulder. Lu Han barely notices but sighs.
“Yes, I did.” Lu Han begins scribbling notes for Baekhyun to learn from. “Shall we continue?”
Baekhyun shakes his head. “No, we shall not. Do you need to rest for a bit?”
Lu Han takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes. “I’m fine, Baekhyun, really. Trust me on this, okay?” He smiles gently.

Baekhyun cannot find it in himself to hate Lu Han; it’s like going against nature. Lu Han is always kind and attentive to him even when he doesn’t want him to be. He’s taken care of Baekhyun when Baekhyun forgets to bring things or even eat meals.
Even if he does hate being here, he’s found it difficult to hate him.

“Do you...want to go somewhere instead? If this is too boring for now,” Lu Han’s eyes are crinkled at the edges as he asks Baekhyun.
“Where?”
Lu Han’s grin is replaced with thoughtful expression; he itches his forehead with thought. Baekhyun nearly smiles.
“Are you hungry?”
“Lu Han, you just threw up-”
“That just means I need to eat something to fill the emptiness,” Lu Han says calmly. Baekhyun scoffs but smiles.
“Ready?”
---

Lu Han has good days and bad days. Ones where he can barely muster up the strength to force himself out of bed, but others where he’s grinding his teeth from grinning too hard. The ups and downs spin him around, affecting his focus a lot lately. He has trouble staying awake most days since he spends his nights finishing up coursework or studying, but also because he stares at the wall in the dark trying to fall asleep but failing.
He still manages to breathe alright through every lesson with Baekhyun just fine. There’s something about Baekhyun’s obvious hatred for learning Mandarin and being in China that urges Lu Han to change his mind, especially after that horrific market visit.
Today’s an in-between day, where Lu Han’s mind is struggling to function. His body feels like shit, from getting only about 30 minutes of sleep in a strange, uncomfortable position.
But Lu Han’s mood swerves a little towards the good side when he drags Baekhyun out the door to go to his favorite restaurant. The taxi ride is quite long, but worth the wait. Baekhyun complains the entire way when Lu Han won’t tell him where they’re going, and Lu Han just snickers to himself and keeps quiet, smirking and shaking his head no when Baekhyun continually pokes him in the shoulder.

At last, the two emerge from the cab and Lu Han pushes Baekhyun towards the boardwalk, with Baekhyun limp and still complaining that this is an elaborate plot to force him to learn Mandarin.
Lu Han doesn’t deny it.

The boardwalk is lively today, with people strolling about the walkway. A lake extends beyond the railing of the boardwalk’s side, ripples forming as little children grab flat rocks and toss them into the blue. It’s difficult to tell where the lake ends, as it blends into the azure sky above. There are no clouds in sight today, and the sun is raining light down onto the area, casting grand shadows through tree leaves and buildings. Differing scents waft through the air, greeting Lu Han who smiles at a sniff of Chinese hawberry and causing Baekhyun to gag in surprise at the foreign scent. Lu Han chuckles at Baekhyun, who scowls and mutters something about wanting to go back to the apartment.

They walk for a bit, passing by empty benches by the water and small shops selling trinkets and souvenirs. Lu Han sees that Baekhyun is tempted to edge closer to the old man by one of the shops who’s spinning colored cotton candy and shoves him. “You need room for the food.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t get a snack,” Baekhyun pouts and looks at Lu Han with glistening puppy eyes, but for once, Lu Han will not cave.

Lu Han stops abruptly in his tracks, and reaches to stop Baekhyun from walking further.
In front of them stands 全聚德 (Quán Jù Dé), one of the most revered duck restaurants in all of Beijing. The characters stand out at the top of the building in loud gold, with the entrance having an uncanny resemblance to the palaces that Lu Han usually goes and visits when he wants a fresh history lesson.
“You can enter first.” Baekhyun humphs, arms crossed and leaning on one foot. Lu Han reaches over and ruffles Baekhyun’s hair. Baekhyun flinches and attempts to swat Lu Han’s hand away. He tries to pull at Lu Han’s hair as retaliation but Lu Han doesn’t let him, just as always.

“Let’s go in together.”

Baekhyun begrudgingly follows Lu Han into the restaurant, hands shoved into his jean pockets.
Lu Han truly adores this place. He’s done his fair research of it, too.
“Quan Ju De was founded in 1864 during the Qing Dynasty and has prospered through present day and continues to,” Lu Han starts out, looking at Baekhyun for any sign of a response. There’s only a tiny nod, but he keeps going. “The duck is really delicious. It’s cooked in open ovens and with fruits like peaches and Chinese dates. The fuel they use brings out a slight fruity hint and crisps the skin delicately and deliciously.”
Baekhyun huffs. “What, is this some sort of speech you’ve planned?” Lu Han smiles and shakes his head no.
“This method was only used for imperial families until the opening of a branch in Qianmen. So whenever I eat here, I kind of feel like I’m royalty.” Baekhyun laughs at the silly remark, but Lu Han pouts.

When they enter, there are muffled sounds of music seeping through the walls that are lit with red paper lanterns, each with a different Chinese character painted on them. The hallway is surprisingly empty as they walk into the lobby of the restaurant. Despite the busyness of the outside there’s no line at the reservation desk today and Lu Han walks towards it with Baekhyun in tow.

“Table for two,” Lu Han requests. The lady, dressed in a white qipao with pink flowers curling in the front of it, looks down at her papers behind the counter.
“That’s perfect; we have exactly one table open,” the lady smiles warmly at Lu Han, who returns it with a gummy grin. Baekhyun rolls his eyes, and Lu Han gently but forcefully elbows Baekhyun in the ribs, enough for Baekhyun to yelp.
The lady doesn’t question it.

Lu Han and Baekhyun follow the lady down the corridor. She presses the button next to the elevator.
“You’ll be dining in the upper floor, I think you’ll quite enjoy it.” Lu Han nods back.
The elevator dings and the three step inside.
“The upper floor is the best, in my opinion,” Lu Han whispers over to Baekhyun, who’s fiddling with his hands and blatantly not listening. Lu Han doesn’t let his avoidance bring him down.
When the doors open, they walk down another hallway to be met by a glass door, bordered with hardwood and engraved with artful patterns and flowers.

The lady pulls open the door for the two.

And this is Lu Han’s other favorite part.
The area is stunning and glowing in Lu Han’s eyes, as it always is. Waiters flit about the tables, taking orders and refilling water glasses. Tables with white and gold bordered cloths draped on them are scattered around the room. To the left, Lu Han sees a wooden ledge span the length of the room and dip into the hallway that connects to the room on the other end of the second floor. Golden curtains spill over the railings, masking the bottom floor and the circular stone stage below which Lu Han adores. Customers chatter noisily, some accompanied by a few friends and others that seem to have half their family tree seated at one huge table.
Lu Han follows the lady to their table, watching Baekhyun’s gaze drifting across the room, absorbing every inch of it.
“Like what you see?”
“I guess…” Baekhyun meekly smiles at Lu Han before turning to his menu.
“Let’s order, shall we?”
---

Lu Han being satiated is an understatement. After plowing through an entire duck as well as 2 vegetable dishes, Lu Han’s stuffed, rubbing his stomach in satisfaction.
Baekhyun, in contrast, has barely had a bite.
While Lu Han tore through a duck leg, he watched Baekhyun take sips from a water glass. Lu Han was shoveling cabbage into his mouth as Baekhyun fiddled with his fingers and looked around the dining area.

“Aren’t you going to eat anything?” Lu Han groans, sitting upright in his seat. “You’ve hardly touched the duck.”
A half eaten duck lies on a decorative plate in front of Baekhyun, who nearly seems like he’s afraid of eating.
“I don’t really like duck that much…” says Baekhyun, who averts Lu Han’s gaze.
“But this is really delicious. Trust me!” Lu Han beams brightly at Baekhyun.
“No, it’s okay.”
Lu Han humphs in false anger, crossing his arms and tapping his forehead with thought.
“If you eat even just one bite, we don’t have to learn anymore today.”
Baekhyun lights up, suddenly attentive.
“And I’ll take you somewhere where we can have some fun.”
Baekhyun tentatively cuts a jagged cube of duck from the leg, and sticks it into his mouth.
“Good duck, right?” Lu Han looks at Baekhyun fondly, who’s busy chewing through the fibers.
Baekhyun doesn’t respond; instead, he’s static in his chair.
Suddenly, he jolts out of his trance. “Yeah… it was okay,” Baekhyun grins softly and Lu Han swears that the entire room lights up.
“Do you want to watch a Beijing Opera?”
---

Baekhyun chews on the cube of meat.
“Good duck, right?”

‘That’s some good duck, right?’ His mother grins proudly. Baekhyun nods in delight, hands clapping erratically.
‘Here comes the plane, open up!’ Baekhyun giggles as the zooming plane of duck meets his lips, and he gobbles it up instantly.
‘Mommy, can we have duck all the time?’ he waves his hands around in joy.
His mother frowns. ‘Not every day, sweetheart.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because Mommy has to go far away to get it, and your Daddy doesn’t like it when Mommy comes home late.” his mother solemnly looks away, mumbling something under her breath.
‘Oh.’ Baekhyun frowns with his mother. ‘But has Daddy had some duck today? It’s really tasty!’
‘Of course! He had some when you were in the bathroom.’ his mother reassures him.
‘Yay!’ He rocks his head around in celebration.
‘Yah, it’s nearly 9:00 P.M.! Time for bed!’ Baekhyun’s mother exclaims. ‘Let’s go sleep!’
His mother picks him up out of the high chair and into his bedroom. She tucks him in and kisses him goodnight. The door doesn’t make a sound when she leaves.
Before drifting into dream world, Baekhyun thinks about two things:
Baekhyun only remembers hearing shouting when he was in the bathroom.
He thinks that his mother mumbled under her breath about not being trusted.

Lu Han’s staring at him.
“Yeah, it was okay…” Baekhyun mumbles.

The taste is bitter, but familiar.
I remember it.
---

“I guess there’s no opera today, but there’s some people playing instruments,” Lu Han sighs in disappointment. “I hope this doesn’t bore you too much.”
Baekhyun doesn’t look away from the performers. “It’s okay.”
The two are perched by the room ledge, peeking past the curtain to observe the lower floor.
There are two women and men on the circular stone stage. One woman plays erhu, while the other picks tones at a guzheng. The man farthest from Baekhyun is strumming a mandolin.
And in the very center, another man plays piano. Baekhyun watches as his fingers glide across the dominos, letting melodies float through the air. He almost seems upset from the way his eyebrows are furrowed and his powerful pedaling.

‘Two hours isn’t enough!’
Baekhyun pounds his fingers harder into the keys. ‘It’s already been three hours since I’ve started this piece…’

“...and the guzheng is also known as the Chinese zither.” Lu Han explains. “Baekhyun, you alright? You look a little blue.”
“Yeah, I’m fine…” Baekhyun trails off, so Lu Han continues.
“Lastly, there’s the piano, and-”

‘You have an audition tomorrow,’ his mom hisses, eyes narrowing down on Baekhyun’s frantic fingers which fly across the black and white.
Baekhyun’s eyes find the clock on the wall. ‘It’s almost one am, though,’ he whines.
His mother replies with a smack on his knuckles with a plastic ruler. ‘This section sounds rigid. Keep going.’ She points to a line in his music.
Baekhyun groans silently and repeats the section another time.

“...they must practice constantly to be this good, I think,” Lu Han gazes down at the performers with admiration.
“I actually play piano,” Baekhyun whispers. Lu Han turns to face Baekhyun, wearing a surprised expression. “Really? You should play for me sometime.”
Baekhyun weakly nods. He watches the mood slow as the four musicians end a phrase, before entering a new one.
This new one sounds familiar, but harsh.

Baekhyun slams his fingers down, accenting every note in frustration as his mother yells at him in the background. ‘Too fast, slow down!’
Baekhyun doesn’t obey; he plays faster, even. He holds out the last note of the piece, and-

Lu Han sees Baekhyun nearly collapse from his position.
“Are you okay?!” Lu Han shrieks, holding him firm by the shoulders.
“B-bathroom,” Baekhyun croaks, and Lu Han immediately shuffles Baekhyun over to the men’s restroom.
Baekhyun doesn’t feel too hot.
He bends over the sink, and says goodbye to his dinner.

Lu Han rubs his back as Baekhyun recovers, coughing and clearing his throat that is still burning from the bile. “I’m sorry that the duck was bad, I’m going to complain to the manager,” Lu Han shakes his head in disapproval and turns to step out the bathroom. “This restaurant has never given me any problems before, but I can-”
“No!” Baekhyun yelps, quickly grabbing onto Lu Han’s lower arm, catching him off guard and rendering him silent. “I mean, no. It’s okay, I just don’t take in meat well.”
“It’s no trouble, though. I don’t want to come back to a place that made you throw up because of its food-”
“I mean it. I’m just not good with eating.” Baekhyun forces out through gritted teeth. He realizes he’s still gripping Lu Han’s arm tightly, releases the tension and drops his hand in embarrassment.

“How can I make this up to you?” Lu Han says, sighing.

Baekhyun remains silent for a moment. “So where exactly is this place where we’re supposed to have a lot of fun at?”
---

Is he serious?

“An...aquarium?”
Baekhyun stares at the line that leads up to the entrance, then turns to Lu Han.
“Well, the bottom floor’s an aquarium. The higher floors have other attractions,” Lu Han informs Baekhyun, filling in the gaps as the line moves forward. “You’ll love it, trust me.”


Baekhyun shakes his head. Lu Han only smiles at Baekhyun’s attempts to be disinterested.
When Baekhyun follows Lu Han past the entrance, he’s, for once, stunned.
The lobby is buzzing with visitors, and Baekhyun can clearly hear noisy chatter. Hanging from the ceiling are blue ribbons and model fish and sharks and dolphins. The atmosphere swirls around Baekhyun and frankly, he can’t help but feel a little bit excited.
“Shall we?” Lu Han asks excitedly.
“Yeah, yeah,” Baekhyun waves a hand at Lu Han, hiding a hint of smile.
---

Lu Han’s favorite part of any aquarium is probably the shark tunnel. He enjoys being up close and personal with the fish and bonk noses with the sharks through the glass. Not to mention that in his experience, shark tunnels are beautiful. This aquarium is no exception.

As they enter, Lu Han watches creatures dart about the tank, swimming up and down and around. The tunnel’s glass is crystal clear, and Lu Han feels as though he could reach out and touch that dolphin’s snout. The blue of the habitat overwhelms the tunnel and swallows it whole, but Lu Han doesn’t mind. No one else does, either. Coral has found home along the bottom of the tank, and Lu Han watches as small fish hide behind plant leaves and in the caves that seem to accompany every leaf. The water glistens and nearly blinds Lu Han.

“How do you like it so far?” Lu Han asks, facing one side of the tunnel. There’s no answer. He turns around and sees Baekhyun watching the fish and other sea creatures flit around, too absorbed in the scenery to reply, and Lu Han is nearly overjoyed.
Lu Han ventures further down into the tunnel, nudging Baekhyun’s shoulder from time to time when Baekhyun doesn’t move up at all.

“The fish here are stunning, don’t you think,” Lu Han sighs in admiration, dragging his fingertips along the glass, watching as a few fish begin to follow his hand.
“Yeah…” Baekhyun replies abruptly, stopping and staring down the tank. But Lu Han can see that Baekhyun has his eyes on one particular fish. Lu Han hovers over Baekhyun’s left shoulder. “What kind of fish is that?”
Baekhyun yelps and jumps slightly. After recovering, he locks his eyes back on that fish, before giving Lu Han a proper explanation.
“It’s a Siamese fighting fish. I used to see them all the time when I went to aquariums with my dad and mom-”

“Isn’t it pretty, Baek?” His mother grips his hand lightly, and his father holds the other as they walk down the tunnel. Baekhyun nods in intense excitement, looking around at the creatures that are swimming through the water quickly.
His mother tugs him over to one side of the tunnel, and points at a fish with a small body of white crystal graduating into a shiny blue at the tail. The multi colored fins flow like freshly washed sheets drying in the wind.
“That’s a Siamese fighting fish, Baek. Although it has the word ’fighting’ in its name, it’s quite peaceful.” Baekhyun gazes over to his mom and giggles. “That’s so silly, Mommy. Why would something be named what it’s not?”
His mother stops and thinks for a moment.
“I mean, it kind of represents people: they aren’t always what you think they are.” Baekhyun’s look turns confused at that. “Don’t worry about it too much, baby.”
But Baekhyun does think about it. Especially when his mother leaves the aquarium without him and his father and doesn’t return that night.

Lu Han is waving his hand in front of Baekhyun’s face. “You there, kid?”
Baekhyun looks shocked at first, but a scowl returns to his face. “I’m only a year younger than you.”
Baekhyun continues walking further on, as if he weren’t just talking to Lu Han, and Lu Han deflates.
Lu Han jogs slightly up to Baekhyun. “Are you okay?”
Baekhyun faces away from Lu Han. “I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry if I r-reminded you of bad things…” Lu Han stutters, hands fiddling nervously with his coat zipper.
“It’s alright.”
Lu Han hiccups from his nervousness. “Is it okay if I ask what’s wrong?”

Baekhyun doesn’t answer for a minute. He turns his head and watches the sharks playfully bump into each other as they swim happily about the tank.
“I-I mean it’s okay if you don’t want to say anything, that was kind of a rude question for me to-”
“My father. He passed away a while ago.” Baekhyun clears his throat, coughing into his hand balled into a fist. He shuffles both hands into his jacket pockets. “He’s gone. That’s all.”

“Oh god, Baekhyun, I didn’t know-”
“It’s okay.”
“Don’t worry about me too much, okay?”

Baekhyun claps his hands as the two exit the tunnel, effectively shaking Lu Han out of his trance.

“I’m bored, is there anywhere else to go?”
Lu Han’s face lights up completely.

“There’s always somewhere to go.”
---

“I really don’t think that sky views are that pretty. Especially in China,” Baekhyun complains, standing next to Lu Han in an elevator cramped with at least twenty other people.
“Did you just diss China?” Lu Han turns in place to look over at Baekhyun, offended that someone would ever say something like that,
“The streets are always dirty, the air is absolutely terrible, there’s trash lining the sidewalks, I could go on. That’s not even the worst of it,” Baekhyun lists these things with his fingers.

Lu Han shakes his head and laughs bitterly, but not with hatred. He stares at the glowing red number atop the door grow higher as they ascend into the upper levels of the tower.
When they exit the elevator, squishing around people in the crowd, Baekhyun nearly loses Lu Han in the sea of people.

“Lu Han!” Baekhyun shouts, tipping his head up and stepping onto his toes in an attempt to find Lu Han’s head of curly brown hair that he so often teases him about, but all he sees is black.
“Lu Han! Where are you?!” Baekhyun yells again, growing more anxious as time passes; he’s lost in an ocean of strangers whom he can barely communicate with. He bites his lips and his mind is whirring in multiple different directions, and Baekhyun feels as though he could implode at any given moment.

Suddenly, a hand reaches out from the crowd and grasps Baekhyun’s arm. The hand pulls tight, and a startled Baekhyun is all but dragged past the crowd. He calms upon seeing Lu Han attached to the hand that’s holding his arm.

“Don’t-” Lu Han slips his hand into Baekhyun’s and squeezes it firmly. ”Don’t be slow. Public areas are vicious to tourists.” Lu Han continues on forward, closely followed by Baekhyun who’s staring at their linked hands. As the two keep going, the crowd thins until there are only a few groups of visitors left at the corners of the room.

They stop in front of a wide window. The sun has nearly completely melted into the ground past the skyscrapers. Baekhyun can see the tiny cars between buildings zoom on the streets, and people walking about the pavement. A flock of birds flying in a V shape flit past Baekhyun’s eyes, and he almost breaks his neck turning his head to follow their trail.

“Baekhyun, I’m sorry for not being more careful… but you need to follow me, okay?” Lu Han asserts, expecting a quick response.
Baekhyun looks out the window without a sound.

“Baekhyun?” He still doesn’t answer.
“Are you okay? Do you want to go-”
“I thought that,” Baekhyun whispers weakly, “you were going to abandon me.”
“Abandon you?” Lu Han asks, confused.
“...l-like she did…” Baekhyun stutters, immediately cutting off his thoughts.
“Who? Who’s she?”

Baekhyun has his back to Lu Han mutters something that he can’t hear.
“Baekhyun? What’s wrong?” Lu Han questions softly.
There’s a plate of silence built in between Lu Han and Baekhyun, and Lu Han fails at cracking it. After a few minutes, he gives up entirely.

“Lu Han?” Lu Han’s eyes widen at the sound of his name.
“Baekhyun?” Baekhyun shuffles in place.
“C-can you promise me one thing?” Baekhyun sniffles, wiping his face with the sleeve of his jacket. He doesn’t give Lu Han room to answer.
“Don’t ever leave me like that again,” Baekhyun chokes out between sobs, and Lu Han reaches past the silence and turns him, pulling him towards his chest in one swift motion.
“I won’t,” Lu Han reassures him, running his hands through Baekhyun’s hair.
“Do you promise?”
Lu Han wordlessly takes Baekhyun’s hand and links his pinky with his own. “Pinky promise.”
“Pinky promise.” Baekhyun repeats back, clenching his hand so tightly that it fades to white.

A promise.

“Can...we go back?” Baekhyun requests, wiping away his tears. “I’m kind of tired…”
“Yeah, we can. This is okay, right?” Lu Han asks, taking Baekhyun’s hand in his own.
Baekhyun nods and gives a weak smile, and the two begin their descent.
And as Lu Han tugs Baekhyun through the crowds, squeezing his hand, he feels time stop.

No matter what happens,

He looks back at Baekhyun, who smiles at him, confused.

I’ll stay by your side.

“What’s wrong?” Baekhyun tilts his head and pouts and Lu Han almost curses at how cute he looks.

Even if the world gives up on us.

“Nothing…” Lu Han lets a smile peek through.

I never will.

“Nothing is wrong.” Baekhyun closes his eyes and sighs in a shard of content.

I promise you.
---

“I can’t believe that dude tried to scam us,” Baekhyun mutters, hands stuffed into his jean pockets as he walks with Lu Han past the main entrance.
“They’re always around, man. If you’re with me, you’ll be fine,” Lu Han replies, leading him up the stairs. Baekhyun looks around at the heavy crowds of people that walk up with him.

Today, the two of them collectively decided on visiting the Forbidden City, even if Baekhyun doesn’t think too highly of the designs. Lu Han’s set out to change his mind, although Baekhyun just ignores him whenever he starts gushing about the artwork.

But when Baekhyun enters the house, it leaves him speechless.
The walls are decorated plainly, with solid hues spanning each. Red circular poles extend to the ceiling, which is embellished with jade ornaments and engravings that stand out vividly. He can barely pull his eyes away from the images on the ceiling to look at the main show.
The house that Lu Han has brought them into is what is apparently the Hall of Supreme Harmony. There’s a large throne surrounded by countless furnishings standing right in front of them.

“Still think it’s ugly?” Lu Han asks, placing a hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder.
“Not really…” Baekhyun whispers, turning away from Lu Han in embarrassment. Lu Han only giggles and lets him roam a little.

Baekhyun’s able to pick up bits and pieces of spoken Mandarin as he walks around the massive hall.
“...this Hall was used for major ceremonies, like the Emperor’s wedding…”
“Now, if we step over here, we can see…”

“...the decorations that line the throne.” The guide recites smoothly, as if he’d practiced numerous times before beginning the tour.
“Mommy! Look!” Baekhyun chirps, tugging on his mother’s sleeve.
“Yes, yes…” His mother mumbles, turning to and from the throne, then focusing back on her phone call.
Baekhyun doesn’t know why Mommy’s always calling someone when they’re out of the house. “It’s really pretty, like you Mommy-”
His mother only scowls and takes the phone away from her ear.
“Mommy’s a little busy right now,” she turns back to her call.
Baekhyun feels a heavy thumping from his chest that he can’t shake off. “B-But-”
“Not Now.” Baekhyun’s mother spits, not even turning back to look at Baekhyun. “Why don’t you be a good boy and look at the pretty things in silence?”
“O-okay…” he whispers.
“...freaking kid… won’t shut up…”
Baekhyun sniffs and just looks at the surrounding decorations around the hall by himself.
“The throne is really cool, ain’t it?” Baekhyun feels his father put one hand on his shoulder; he giggles and catches his father’s arm. “Yeah, all the designs are really pretty!”
His father smiles warmly back at him before gazing at his wife with resignation. “Daddy, why are you pouting?” Baekhyun asks suddenly, “You always tell me to smile instead!”
Baekhyun’s father beams back. “If you try your hardest to, I will too. Deal?”
“Deal!”

“Yo, Baekhyun, you alive?” Lu Han asks, poking Baekhyun on one shoulder.
Baekhyun has his back to Lu Han, still lost in thought.
Lu Han shoves Baekhyun gently. “Dude?”
He shoves him harder and walks closer, leaning around to look at Baekhyun’s face, but it doesn’t go as expected.
“Dude, did you fall asleep while standing, because I swear to god, how do you even do-”
Lu Han’s interrupted by Baekhyun turning his face quickly and accidentally brushing his lips against Lu Han’s cheek.
He staggers backwards slightly, and Baekhyun just stands still with a mostly blank expression tinted with a little what the hell just happened, Lu Han can tell.
“I’m...awake,” Baekhyun coughs, covering his face with his sleeve. Lu Han nods slowly.
---

I turned by accident.
But accidents seem a little less bad now.
---

He felt warm, being so up close. I could see every eyelash flutter in unison.
His cheeks were soft… and wet.
---

“...Are you crying?”
Baekhyun touches his cheeks, then wipes at them furiously. “No-”
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Lu Han gives a look of reassurance and Baekhyun returns it.
“Yeah, I do.”
“You know, you’re cute when you’re not complaining,” Lu Han tugs on Baekhyun’s ear and he’s taken by surprise, laughing and swatting his hand away. “Yah, stop that,” He giggles, latching a finger onto Lu Han’s ear and pulling gently. “Are you trying to make me look like an elf?” Lu Han whines, retaliating and tugging on both of Baekhyun’s ears. Baekhyun sticks his tongue out as a response and does it again, and it turns into a battle.

Lu Han ducks. Baekhyun pounces like a goddamn tiger and he won’t take no for an answer. But Lu Han is agile, prancing around him and dodging his attempts casually. It’s a war and both are determined to emerge victorious. Baekhyun runs left, Lu Han goes in the opposite direction, but Baekhyun is quick this time and the score turns to 1-0. Lu Han scowls thinking about how he even let that happen. But he fakes a turn the next time and when Baekhyun starts shouting about how he cheated, he just laughs. The battle is mobile, moving throughout the hall and the other visitors give weird glares, but goddamn, the fight isn’t over until it’s over.

The only thing that stops them is when Lu Han runs forward without thought and nearly crashes into a glass case. The two are panting at the end, both bent over and coughing up their lungs.
“You should thank me for saving you from being banned from here.”
“I would if you would count that one pull I got in the beginning.”
“Oh, shut up.”

“What’s that scent?” Baekhyun asks, sniffing. “It smells familiar. Are you eating something and not sharing?” He interrogates Lu Han, almost acting like a five year old who didn’t get a toy with his fast food meal.

Lu Han smiles sheepishly as he extracts a small plastic box from his pocket that holds a handful of cherries. Baekhyun’s eyes widen.
“So you want these?” Lu Han’s smile grows as he waves the container in front of Baekhyun’s face.
Baekhyun whispers, “Well, maybe later.”

Lu Han walks over to a bench and collapses on it in exhaustion, and Baekhyun follows suit.
“Where to next?” Lu Han asks, lying on half of the bench, eyes scanning the decor on the ceiling.
“Wherever you want to go.” Baekhyun replies without thought, but he corrects himself. “I mean, I’ll go wherever you want to go,” He winks with exaggeration and Lu Han shoves him with joy lingering on his lips.
---

5:19 am, Sept 14
Can’t sleep. My legs still burn from walking the span of the Forbidden City; the place is gigantic, just as I remember. I should’ve known that flat sole sneakers weren’t for traveling. Didn’t really think through only bringing boots and those sneakers with me.
Lu Han has friends who work there, one named Tao who cleans the bathrooms and one named Yifan who works at the gift shop. He tried to introduce me to them but they wouldn’t stop trying to take jabs at each other... It was kinda funny, though. They both seemed nice. Tao was really vibrant and kept pointing out places in the palace to check out and he didn’t stop until Lu Han told him he’d steal his watch. He looked really offended by that. Yifan is so tall that I feel like a dwarf next to him and it’s kind of intimidating. But he seems to always have a sheepish smile pasted on his face when he looks Tao. I think he likes him, by the way he talks to and even looks at him.
Forbidden City reminds me of a lot of things. Of when Dad wasn’t really off well, and well, Mom was just herself, I guess. She never was really nice since Dad fell ill. Makes you think about what kind of parent she is.
I really have to stop getting caught up in memories; it makes it hard to focus on the now and learn about the culture here. Lu Han’s a good teacher, though, he keeps giving his best.
I think I spaced out so much walking down memory lane that Lu Han started to ask if I was okay. I told him I was fine, but I don’t think he believes me. Honestly, I’m more worried about him than myself. I just have a lot of hurt rooted in my head.

Lu Han doesn’t look like he used to when I first stepped into his apartment. He’s lost a lot of weight recently; I asked him if he was on a diet and he confirmed it. It’s kind of strange though, I see him eating a lot of food everyday before he goes to bed, mostly cherries actually (not that I’m surprised). But he’s vomiting nearly every other day and I keep telling him to go to the doctor but he won’t budge at all, saying that he just has a little stomach flu. Even then, I ask him constantly, but he just keeps making up different excuses.
Maybe Lu Han really is just a little sick. And maybe I’m a little too paranoid. Maybe I want him to be better so I can kiss him again. Or maybe I’ll do it anyways (with his consent, of course).
I know this notebook is suppose have notes about my experiences… but this counts, right? It’s not like Mr. Na will be checking them carefully.

Notes: Don’t tie strings too tightly. Time will cut them soon.
---

The T.V.’s on, showing some children’s show that Lu Han’s making Baekhyun watch. Baekhyun’s frustrated as he tries to explain to Lu Han what the episode is about, but struggles as he can only understand a few words that the characters are saying.

“Man, I suck at this,” Baekhyun blurts out in resignation. He throws his hands over his head then pulls them back to rub at his eyes. “Why wasn’t I just born smart?”
Lu Han pauses, biting his inner cheek. He states, “You don’t suck at Mandarin, you’re just new at this.” He readjusts himself in his seat.
“Um, yeah, I kind of do. I’m bad at everything basically,” Baekhyun lists off with his fingers, ”Mandarin, school, piano,” He reaches out his hand for his drink and accidentally tips it over. “Living.”
“You’re smart, Baekhyun.” Lu Han says firmly, eyes looking straight at Baekhyun’s cheeks. His stare doesn’t fade as he takes a tissue and pats down the spilled water. “You work hard, and you’re smarter because of that.”

Baekhyun gives a bitter chuckle. “Smarter, my ass,” his eyes return to the T.V, the screen shows two kids are playing basketball. “Did that one say ‘你真是害怕’?” (You are really scared.) Baekhyun wonders, lazily pointing his finger at the young boy on the left of the screen.
“...He said ‘你真是太差. (You are really bad.)” Lu Han smiles apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, he’s saying that to me actually,” Baekhyun throws his arms up in frustration, groaning and slapping his cheeks roughly.
“You’ve really got to stop bashing your head in about mistakes, dude, it’s bad for your health.”
Baekhyun only waves Lu Han off. “Yeah, yeah. It’s whatever.”

“Baekhyun, I’m serious-”
“And I’m seriously bad at this. Can you just help me?”
“No, I will not.”
“Please?” Baekhyun looks over at Lu Han with the most endearing puppy eyes and pout, sitting down on the couch next to him and leaning in until their faces are only a few inches apart.

Suddenly, the thought of inadequacy fades from Baekhyun’s mind, because god, their faces are so close together.

His lips...look soft.

Lu Han’s eyes are fully shut as the gap between them begins to close. Baekhyun can feel Lu Han’s breath touching his cheeks.
Right before their lips touch, Jongdae bounds through the door, and Baekhyun leaps miles away from Lu Han, standing up and coughing loudly.

Lu Han’s frozen, but he manages to compose himself. “You’re home early.”

Jongdae doesn’t even look their direction. He throws off his bag and heads to the kitchen, where he pours himself a glass of water. “Yeah, class was canceled because some nitwit named Jongin decided to pull the fire alarms because he wanted to get out early to see his dogs.”

He turns around while sipping his drink to see Lu Han sat on the end of the couch closest to him, and Baekhyun tentatively sitting on the far arm rest. The T.V.’s still playing in the background, buzzing quietly.

“What happened here?” Jongdae chugs through his water and puts the glass into the sink.
“N-nothing…” Baekhyun coughs, burying his mouth in his elbow awkwardly. He and Lu Han look at each other before turning to Jongdae.

Jongdae eyes them suspiciously, but gives up easily. “Whatever. I’m tired, I’m going to take a nap. Have fun with your-” He tries to find the right words. “...whatever you two were doing.”

He takes his leave, closing the door behind him with an audible click.

Lu Han’s shoulders immediately relax, and he slouches back onto the couch. Baekhyun wipes his forehead.
“Um… about that, I didn’t mean to-”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s… okay,” Lu Han interrupts him. “...let’s keep working.”

Baekhyun gives a weak smile, and he can’t tell whether it’s his awful hearing or his imagination acting up when he hears a soft ‘It was more than okay’.
---

Lu Han can’t sleep. He’s tired, sure, but he’s been staring at his ceiling for the past two hours and he can’t seem to keep his eyes shut.
The apartment is mostly silent, except for the constant hum of the fridge in the kitchen from its years of use and the wind tapping on the windows. He hasn’t gotten much sleep (he usually doesn’t, but now it’s worse than it has been), which has him sluggish almost all the time. He tries to be as energetic as he can when he teaches Baekhyun, but once, he ended up falling asleep on the desk until night. He woke up the next morning with a blanket draped over him and a glass of milk and toast on the desk. When he asked Baekhyun, he just shrugged and said that it was probably Jongdae. (But Lu Han knows that Jongdae had slept over at a friend’s house that night.)
But these past few days have been the worst for Lu Han. The humming of the refrigerator feels louder in Lu Han’s ears and he feels the wind slapping his back, as if he were choking and he needed the heimlich. There’s also been a strange collection of noises coming from outside of his room, and he doesn’t really want to find out what it is.
Until today, at least.

There’s an aura of unknown lingering out of his room and he can’t handle another sleepless night. Lu Han pushes off his covers at the sound of a soft thud. He grabs a baseball bat he has stashed in his closet and tiptoes towards the door.

Who in the name of hell is here to kill me today?

He creaks the door open, sees a line of yellow at the bottom of Baekhyun’s door, and sighs.

What the hell is he doing at 2 A.M.?

Lu Han knocks on the door three times and places his hand on the doorknob.
“Baekhyun, what are you doing, just go to-”
He peels the door open and sees Baekhyun on his bed, papers scattered across the bed sheets.

Baekhyun stares with wide eyes before taking the papers into his hands.
“I’m sorry for waking you, I’ll turn the light off and-” He stops mid sentence, staring at his finger that’s laced with red after brushing it against the stack of paper. He wipes the blood with his other hand and presses on the cut.
“I’ll go back to sleep, sorry,” Baekhyun smiles sheepishly.


“Baekhyun…” Lu Han murmurs, and sits himself onto the mattress, eyes fluttering across the mass of index cards and gel pens hidden in the wrinkles of the blanket. “Have you been studying all night?”
Baekhyun shakes his head, still organizing the mess.
“No… Only since twelve…”
Lu Han’s eyes pop out in alarm. “Twelve? When I went to sleep?”
Baekhyun shuts his eyes and nods. “Just go back to bed, I’ll sleep in a few minutes…”
“Not like I sleep anyways,” Lu Han mutters, coughing to cover his words.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.”


Lu Han wordlessly turns Baekhyun’s face. “Baekhyun, why are your cheeks wet?” Lu Han places his hand on Baekhyun’s cheek and rubs the smooth, damp surface curiously. “N-no reason…” Baekhyun stammers, quickly throwing his hand onto Lu Han’s wrist, pulling it down away from his face. He turns back to the papers picks up a few in each hand trying to sort them. Lu Han plucks one sheet out of Baekhyun’s hand.
“Lu Han, give that back,” Baekhyun whines; he almost jumps up as he attempts to snatch it back, but Lu Han’s too fast, so his palms remain empty.


“What is this…” Lu Han holds the paper firmly between his fingertips and his eyes trail across the Chinese characters scribbled onto the sheet. There’s smudge marks and wet spots that make the ink bleed and draw blots. Baekhyun’s tugging on the paper and his cheeks are burning.


“Did you,” Lu Han traces one of the characters with his finger. “Do all this?” Baekhyun stops pulling. “Yeah, a little bit,” He whispers, his hand falling away.
“Why?” Baekhyun doesn’t look back at Lu Han. There’s a hint of a whisper, but Lu Han can’t quite decipher what he’s saying. “Say that again?” He moves his lips but no sound comes out.
“Baekhyun, if you actually want me to know, speak up-”
“I wanted to impress you…” Baekhyun chokes out, hands fiddling at his lap. “I’m not really good at this stuff, y’know?”

Lu Han puts one hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder and shakes him.
“Baekhyun. You’re good at Mandarin, trust me, I think-”
“Not knowing how to introduce myself is good? Not knowing how to count past twenty is good? Not knowing how to ask to go to the bathroom is good-”
“Baekhyun, listen to me-”
“Not even remembering how to write my own name is good?” Baekhyun bites his lip as his eyes flicker. “Not even that?”


Lu Han exhales, his eyes shut. “Baekhyun, why don’t you have any faith in yourself?” he asks.
“To be fair, you didn’t work the hardest at first, but now you’re doing-” Lu Han picks up the same sheet of paper and waves it in front of Baekhyun’s face for emphasis. “This.” Lu Han rummages through Baekhyun’s pile (not before giving a quiet apology for undoing his organization) pulling out his study materials.
“This,” a multitude of index cards between Lu Han’s fingers. “This,” a stack of character sheets held tightly. “And this,” a thick workbook (which is almost completely filled out, Lu Han finds, after giving it a flip through) heavy in his hands.

Lu Han sets it all back down. “Why don’t you believe in yourself?”
Baekhyun just stares at the papers that Lu Han just exposed. A faint whisper is heard.

“Because no one ever does.”

But I do.

Lu Han slips his arm around his shoulders and Baekhyun simply melts into him.
“Would you believe me if I said I did?”
“I don’t know.”
“I’d tell you every second of the goddamn day,” Lu Han laces his fingers into Baekhyun’s locks. “I’d tell you how much I believe in you, but I think one day is too short to convince anyone.”
Baekhyun laughs bitterly. “Yeah, just forget about it then-”
“So I’ll do it everyday.” Baekhyun opens his mouth to protest but Lu Han’s too quick.
“Everyday, Byun Baekhyun.”
Baekhyun only gulps as his cheeks see the waves arrive at shore again.

I will.

Lu Han will be firm; a stone wedged into the muddy sand, staying with him until he does.

Because you deserve it more than anyone else.
---

“I swear to god…”
Baekhyun’s stood at the kitchen counter, trying to roll out cookie dough, but he added a little too much flour earlier so rolling it flat is more difficult than he anticipated.

“Don’t add too many sweet things, I just got these mouth sores,” Lu Han reminds Baekhyun. He’s sat on the sofa watching the daily news on the T.V..
“I wouldn’t have to refrain from that if you ate a little better,” Baekhyun teases, using his body weight to press down on the dough. “We all know you sneak sweets when no one’s looking.”
Lu Han scoffs. “I don’t do that.” He crosses his legs, sighing heavily.
He actually...seems kind of annoyed.

Baekhyun coughs. “Um. I was kidding.” The dough is thin enough to cut, so Baekhyun walks over to the cabinet to grab some cookie cutters. Lu Han doesn’t even look his way.
Baekhyun drops his cutters on the counter, walking over to the couch and sitting next to Lu Han. “I didn’t mean it, you know.”
Lu Han gives a shrug. “I guess.”
Why is he so hung up about this?

Baekhyun shakes off his thoughts. “Sorry for assuming.”

No response.

“I can...cook dinner today.”

Still silence.

“I’ll do the laundry?”

Lu Han immediately turns and shakes Baekhyun’s hand. He grins. “I’m a little tired today, so yeah, that would be lovely.”
Baekhyun lets out a sigh of relief.

Ever since that night where Lu Han interrupted his studying, Baekhyun’s been talking to Lu Han more, and just being more responsive in general, which Lu Han’s happy about. He’s had the urge to let Lu Han know everything about him, which includes talking to him about his family, but he’s not sure he’s ready yet.
Baekhyun returns to the kitchen, cutting out shapes and placing them on a greased baking tray. When he’s finished that, he grabs the tray and places it into the already steaming oven.

“Baekhyun, quick: what does this say?” Lu Han holds a book, showing Baekhyun the front cover.
“早安...兔...安?” (Good morning...rabbit...calm) Baekhyun looks hopefully at Lu Han.
Lu Han freezes and sets the nursery rhymes down. “Actually… it’s 早安晚安...” (Good morning Goodnight).
Baekhyun curses, throwing himself on the couch adjacent to the one that Lu Han’s sitting on. “I told you I was bad, I can’t even recognize ‘good night’.”

Lu Han jumps up and goes over to pat Baekhyun on the head. “No! You’re fine, Baekhyun. The characters look similar, after all.” Baekhyun groans, burying his face in his hands and lying down
on the sofa.

“Never good at anything-”

Lu Han puts his hand over Baekhyun’s mouth. “Listen, it’s too damn early for you to be emo about something like this. You’re fine, Baek.”
“But it was so easy-”
Lu Han waves off Baekhyun’s protests. “Nothing’s easy, man. Cut yourself some slack.”
I...don’t know how.
Baekhyun sits up, turning to Lu Han and weakly smiling. “...Alright.”

Lu Han’s eyes light up suddenly. “Oh, right- everyday.”
“What-”
“One, you’re good at Mandarin, Byun Baekhyun. It’s a difficult language, so don’t get too discouraged! You’re doing so much better than I did when I tried to learn Korean.” Lu Han counts with his fingers. “Two, I’ve never heard you play piano but I bet you’re fantastic.”
“Not really…” Baekhyun murmurs.
Lu Han ignores him. “Three, you’ve proved time and time again that your baking is delicious, and I’ll be blown away once again when your cookies are done.”

Shit.
“Cookies.” Baekhyun states.
“Yeah, you’re good at those.” Lu Han smiles, thinking about the taste.
“No, cookies.” Baekhyun repeats, slowly getting up from the couch.
“...Cookie-” Lu Han finally understands, locking panicked eyes with Baekhyun. Baekhyun runs to the kitchen with Lu Han following.

Baekhyun turns off the oven immediately and puts on the oven gloves on the counter. A wave of nearly unbearable heat meets his face as he pulls the tray out and plops it onto the granite.

The cookies are incredibly black at the edges, with the center a dark brown which contrasts with the usual golden.

Baekhyun should be angry, Lu Han thinks.

But he hears laughter instead.
Baekhyun’s doubling over, hand pressed on the counter to keep himself steady, and Lu Han can’t help but to join him.
There are tears in Baekhyun’s eyes from laughing when he stands straight, and he wipes them away between giggles.
“There’s next time, right?” Lu Han asks.
Baekhyun nods, smiling. “Next time.”

Thank you,

even though this seems like nothing.

“You know what we could eat instead?”

Thank you for believing in me

when I seem irrational.

“Cherries. I know.”

Thank you for shining lights

on my darker parts.

“I’ll take some, though. For later.”

Thank you for understanding

when I can’t seem to understand myself.
---

Jongdae has had more free time on his hands than usual; ever since he aced his mock exams for English Literature, he hasn’t been too worried about studying. He’s been out of the apartment a lot, especially since Lu Han and Baekhyun are excessively loud 24/7. He also gets booted out when he sings in the shower because Lu Han swears that it’s “lowering Baekhyun’s ability to concentrate, although he’s already doing very well so far”. Jongdae swears that Lu Han gasses Baekhyun up way too much, but every time he mentions it, Lu Han is shushing him and telling him that he’s wrong. So in conclusion, Jongdae’s given up on attempting to stay in their vicinity when Baekhyun’s studying.
Therefore, he’s been sightseeing a lot lately when he isn’t in class. Jongdae regretted not doing this sooner, but he was busy cramming for finals when he wanted to.

Today, Jongdae’s already visited one site; he’s gone to the Forbidden City and stopped by its gift shop visit his schoolmate, Yifan.
Before lunch, Jongdae takes a cab to the same science museum.
Jongdae’s gone there consistently, visiting every few days or so. Most days Jongdae sees the same man facing away from him in different exhibits. He hasn’t built up the courage to go ask him why he always lingers so close to closing time.
Jongdae doesn’t expect to find him anywhere since it’s far too early in the day. Still, he steps past the entrance and looks around because he’s actually been interested in a handful of the exhibits.

He’s enamored with the beauty of the museum just from its lobby. The walls are paneled with green in different shades, resembling pixels on a computer. The second floor is clearly in sight, the entirety of it sticking out of the far wall opposite the entrance. Hanging from the ceiling are white spheres that seemingly move in unison with each other, and Jongdae thinks that it looks like part of a plasma membrane model. The museum is bustling with customers today, probably because it’s a Saturday, Jongdae assumes. He can hear shouts of teachers attempting to do headcounts of their classes and families milling around trying to find certain exhibits. From the windows, the sunlight pierces and layers the lobby with a gold tint.

Jongdae soaks up the light as he flits about the first floor, taking peeks at sections of exhibits he hasn’t seen before and talked to employees that he’s never spoken a word to before.
As he ventures further into the depths of the second floor, he enters the Challenge and Future Hall. He takes a flier from the employee and bows in thanks; flipping through the pages, Jongdae’s shocked by the number of exhibitions (138). Jongdae settles for walking through as many as he can before he goes to catch lunch in about twenty minutes.

The number of kids accompanying their parents here doesn’t surprise Jongdae. He finds it admirable how people so young are able to find something that captivates them like singing captivates him.

With the flashing lights surrounding him and illuminating the path, Jongdae continues on, trying to absorb every detail of the fascinating things around him. There’s something magical about it, but Jongdae can’t quite put his finger on it. The atmosphere is calming to his heart, despite the loud voices that interject with his thoughts.
He ventures further, ducking under lower ceilings and looking upward at the dangling contraptions. Eventually, he finds his way out of the Challenge and Future Hall, snaking through the crowd to enter another one hastily, not even checking to figure out which one it is.

As he enters this hall, the crowd is nearly engulfing him whole; there are kids shoving each other with adults shrieking and Jongdae just pushes through it desperately, spinning in circles as he tumbles out of the frenzy.
When he escapes, Jongdae staggers, his head spinning. All he can see is a man at the very far end of the hall hunched over a notebook, with a girl only a little shorter than him standing next to him. The man straightens up, one hand clutching the notebook and the other a pencil. He’s scribbling something in his journal steadily, and this is when Jongdae realizes that this is the very man he saw the other day.

Inching down the hall, Jongdae has his eyes glued on the man’s head, which bobs up and down slowly although he isn’t wearing any earphones. The girl seems to be around his age, with distinct blonde curls cascading down her back. Jongdae can see her, full of energy, hopping around the man, and Jongdae decides that she has a sort of charm right between endearing and straight up annoying. He watches as the man suddenly squeezes the notebook to his chest and throws his arms around the girl. The girl ruffles his hair and smiles. The man immediately turns around and walks towards the hallway. The girl follows suit, but going in the opposite direction. Jongdae can’t help but quicken his pace; he reaches the end of the hall and neither can be found. He sighs and reads his watch- 12:47 P.M.

I have a few minutes to spare: might as well put them to use, right?

Jongdae settles for turning left; he heads down the empty hallway, passing signs that are littered along its brick walls. He makes it to the corner and looks past the wall. The man turns a corner just as Jongdae sees him. Scowling, Jongdae half walks half runs to the end of the other hall, weaving through the crowd.
The man is stepping quickly down the steps, but Jongdae is caught in the swarms of visitors who are rocking him back and forth. Jongdae watches in defeat as the man exits the museum, one hand clutching his notebook. When Jongdae finally wriggles out and scrambles out the door, he yells, “Hey you! Wait up!”
However, the man’s already fading in the distance as Jongdae’s heart beat settles down. Jongdae steps out further away from the entrance and nearly slips when his foot slides along a sheet of paper slightly crumpled on the concrete. He kneels down, carefully taking the fragile page in his hands and pulls at the edges to smooth out the creases.

There’s hastily scribbled notes on the graph paper; some words don’t even match up with the lines. Words that Jongdae’s never even heard of before are plastered on the page which looks like it’s been freshly ripped out of a notebook. When Jongdae flips the sheet to the other side and finds detailed sketches of cells with notes surrounding them. A few words at the bottom of the page stand out.
“SciMuseum, Sept 17, 3:30 P.M.” Jongdae exhales, running his hands through his hair.
He folds the paper and places it in his pocket before taking out his phone and putting an event in his calendar.
---

“How was class?” Baekhyun rolls his lip between his teeth, kicking his legs up and propping them on the coffee table.
Lu Han doesn’t turn away from the T.V.; he fumbles with a cherry in his mouth before spitting out a pit into his hand. “As I said, boring.” Baekhyun leans over towards Lu Han.

“You really need to think about how many cherries you eat in a day. How many is it? Twenty? Thirty?”
Lu Han laughs and shakes his head. “Only fifteen.”
“They’re not that good, Lu.”
“Yes, they are.” Lu Han shoves the bowl in front of Baekhyun’s face. “Try one!”
Baekhyun pushes it away. “Not in the mood.” Lu Han sighs in resignation and walks over to the kitchen.

Baekhyun’s found it easier to talk to Lu Han these days. He trusts Lu Han more, and he lets his skin off every once in awhile. For Baekhyun, it feels nice to have someone for once.

Lu Han places his hands on the counter. “Anything specific for dinner?” Baekhyun shakes his head no. “Have you been feeling better recently?”

Luhan doesn’t move. “Yeah, I’m fine. I have a little more energy in class now, I guess.”
Baekhyun smiles. “I’m glad.”

Within a few minutes, there’s a savory scent wafting through the apartment, and Baekhyun takes every sniff he can get.

“Can you hand me that bowl over there,” Lu Han gestures with his head to the bowl of cherries on the island counter. Baekhyun retrieves it and places it next to the sink where Lu Han’s washing celery.

“Y’know, we could always eat out if you’re tired or anything,” Baekhyun suggests, arm propped up on Lu Han’s shoulder. “Always an option.”

Baekhyun hears Lu Han mumble something that he can’t decipher. “What’d you say?”
Lu Han repeats, but it’s still muffled. He takes a cherry from the bowl and pops it in his mouth. He motions for Baekhyun to move closer. Baekhyun cups his ear, ready for a message.
He turns Baekhyun’s head by his cheek and looks into his eyes as a question. As he leans in further, there’s a faint whisper of a ‘Yes’ before the gap closes entirely.

Lu Han’s lips are soft, and they taste like the cherries they were eating together. Baekhyun reaches his hand to grasp onto the nape of Lu Han’s neck, pulling him impossibly closer. Lu Han’s left hand snakes around Baekhyun’s waist, holding him firm while keeping himself upright with his right hand pressed on the edge of the sink. Baekhyun feels his head spinning as Lu Han’s mouth moves in perfect unison with his and time seems to stop between them. Lu Han’s tongue prods at Baekhyun’s lips, and Baekhyun graciously lets him enter. He expects for it to be pleasant, and it is.

He doesn’t expect a half eaten cherry to come from Lu Han’s mouth. Taken by surprise, he sucks in and staggers backwards.

“Shit,” Baekhyun croaks, hand tapping his neck. Lu Han can’t even bring himself to shout; he grabs him around the waist and pounds a hand at the center of his back a few times before squeezing at his stomach in intervals. At the fifth interval, a seed flies out of Baekhyun’s mouth and clatters when it lands into the sink.

Baekhyun’s hunched over by the island counter, hand clutching his stomach.
“Are you okay?!” Lu Han yelps, but he begins to hear laughter and his shoulders relax.
“I’m really sorry, I thought that it’d be fine and-” Baekhyun leans forward to press his lips against Lu Han’s one more time.
"The taste was good, no?”
Baekhyun chuckles and gives in. “Yes, it was good.” Lu Han’s eyes light up instantly, and before he can reply, he hears an alarm go off.
Lu Han sniffs and backtracks to open the oven door. He fails at suppressing a laugh.
“Take out?”
Baekhyun smiles back. “Cliche much?”
Lu Han steps back from the oven to press his lips against Baekhyun’s cheek.
“Cliches with you aren’t so bad.”
---

The next day, Baekhyun sits down with his cup of coffee by the glass doors that lead to the balcony. The rain pounds on the wood, creating the white noise that he so cherishes.
Since it’s a Friday, both Lu Han and Jongdae are off at class. Lu Han kept trying to teach Baekhyun how to order for food, what to do in emergency, the usual things that Baekhyun already has drilled into his head. He reassures Lu Han that he’ll be fine every day, even shaking Lu Han by the shoulders to snap him out of his frantic explanations.

Sometimes Lu Han goes elsewhere on weekdays, and Baekhyun constantly scolds him and tells him to stay in school, but Lu Han just laughs and says he’ll be back at the end of the day.

Baekhyun spends his morning on the sofa watching some children’s show and flipping through the vocab cards. For lunch, he sinks his teeth into a half assed ham sandwich instead of ordering in because he knows that his accent is too heavy.
As the brightness of the sky fades, Baekhyun’s thoughts divert back to last evening.

“Yo, Lu Han, hurry up.” Baekhyun groans, knocking on the bathroom door harshly. “I’m deadass about to fall asleep, so if you don’t want me to drown in the bathtub, it’d be great if you could open the door.”

“One minute.” Lu Han’s voice echoes.
Baekhyun sighs and persists. “It’s literally been half an hour, Lu. Jongdae freaking threw mud at me as retaliation for saying that he’s a tiny person earlier.”
“Well, that wasn’t very courteous of him,” Lu Han’s voice runs through Baekhyun’s ears with a hint of laughter. “Lu Hannnnn.” Baekhyun whines, “It’s not funny.”
“Alright, alright…” Baekhyun can hear the tap turn off. The door swings open, a gust of wind blowing back his bangs.

Lu Han’s in the doorway, wearing a collared shirt buttoned up roughly which tucked into jeans that seem way too tight to fit properly. His hair is still wet, the clumped strands sticking out every which way. He throws his head back and pulls his hair into a loose ponytail.

And Baekhyun stares.

His eyes drift downward and hang right below Lu Han’s waist. And he confirms his thoughts: those pants are most definitely, positively too tight. So much so that he can...see a little friend waking up down there.

Baekhyun mentally curses at himself because his wakes up, too.

Lu Han doesn’t notice; he only sees that Baekhyun’s been standing still staring at who knows what for the past three minutes, so he flicks Baekhyun on the head.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Lu Han teases, stepping out of the bathroom and motioning for Baekhyun to get inside.

Needless to say, Baekhyun had an especially steamy night by himself.


Baekhyun hits himself at the thought that he got horny from seeing a fucking bulge.

He shakes off the remembrance and now, he’s curled up on the floor, a large cable knit sweater engulfing his entire body. He takes sips of his brew, and watches water droplets cascade from beyond the sky and pool onto the balcony.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

A squirrel presses its face against the glass, cheeks full and claws scratching against the clear surface. Baekhyun giggles, observing it as it scurries away and swerves around the garden on the far end of the balcony, dropping two or three nuts along the way.

It’s still kind of cold…

He looks around the apartment for any blankets he could warm himself with when he remembers that there’s a fireplace in here. This could be nice, I think.

After about thirty minutes of fumbling with logs and charcoal and matches that won’t light up, a roaring fire swells from the pit, and Baekhyun closes the wire doors. The crinkling sound of burning seeps into the air and he relishes in the warmth of the flames that nearly lick his elbows as he leans in. Baekhyun’s phone emits a ‘ding’ sound as he takes another sip of his coffee which is maintaining its heat now that the mug is so close to the fire.

Baekhyun sits up and takes his phone out of his pocket.

lu han the loml xoxo: did you eat? :D
baek: yeah i did, how’s class?

He sets down his phone and huddles closer to the fireplace, admiring how the colors merge as they bob up and down in a wavelike motion.

lu han the loml xoxo: boring… wanna entertain me? :<

He chuckles softly and shakes his head at the name Lu Han put himself as on his phone. Baekhyun presses his palms to his cheeks to wake himself up.

baek: only if you give me cash :P. but pay attention in class first.

He shuts his phone off and crawls back into his original cozy position. He gazes over to the glass doors, which have water droplets racing down to the bottom. Baekhyun takes out his notebook and a ballpoint pen.

2:32 pm, Sept 12
The people I’ve met:
Jongdae is strange. I don’t really understand him: he gets up at unearthly hours to prepare for school and almost always plays with his cat between his daily chores. To be fair, Cloud is pretty cute, and it’s fun watching them whenever they rub noses (but we all know that Jongdae’s cat doesn’t really feel the same way most of the time). But Jongdae gives my days a sense of rhythm, in a way. He’s always consistent in his tasks and is so abnormally good at not procrastinating that it’s kind of scary. It makes me feel bad whenever he’s super productive and I just follow suit so I guess I should thank him for nagging in a not-annoying way.
Jongdae brought over his friend Zhang Yixing one time. Yixing was overwhelmingly polite, he even shook my hand as if I were the Queen of England or something. He kept talking on and on about his job at the Forbidden City and how everyone there is really nice. I’m pretty sure if he puked, rainbows would come out of his mouth.
There’s Yifan and Tao who I met the other day... both kind of strange and always arguing. I think the funniest thing about the two was that Tao would fake roundhouse kick Yifan, who in return would flinch every time.
I took a walk a few days ago and made friends with someone named Kim Jongin, who was walking his dog back to his dorm. All he did was coo at his ‘little angel’ the entire time I was talking to him. I… just left him after failing to hold a conversation and I think he was grateful by the way he looked at me when I tried to interrupt him kissing his dog’s head.
There’s also Kim Minseok, who’s slightly arrogant, but in a way that isn’t overly obnoxious. He struck up a conversation with me once purely talking about his hair routine in the morning. But he’s a nice guy, I mean, just a dude super concerned about the way his fringe falls. He was introduced to me by Luh-

“Lu Han.” Baekhyun echoes to the empty apartment. “I nearly forgot about him...”

Baekhyun stops for a moment. He drops the notebook, folds into himself, and just thinks.

And there is Lu Han.

Lu Han is soft like the roses that Baekhyun sees Jongdae tend to in the morning. Jongdae is gentle in watering and even gentler in patting down the soil in the row of pots. But the roses are so, so close to the edge of the balcony, threatening to fall out of sight, out of mind. And every morning, before Jongdae can wake up, Baekhyun nudges the pots away from the edge. And he thinks about these roses, how the red matches Lu Han’s apple cheeks. How they stand tall, even when the rain pounds down on their leaves and weighs them down. How they exist in silence, yet in admiration by all.

As Baekhyun stares back at the fire, the spirit of the flames fills him up just as Lu Han does. And Lu Han is simply there, with his usual twinkle glowing ever so brightly. He’s sort like the blazing inferno, unpredictable when he takes Baekhyun on impromptu day trips and quick to adapt to any sort of predicament that comes his way.
But the lull of the tapping rain is reminiscent of Lu Han to Baekhyun as well. The murmur of the droplets gathering together and forming silk ripples flows like Lu Han babbling on about his passions and flushing when he thinks he’s gone on too long (Baekhyun always tells him to keep going). And the blurred reflections of the world against the clarity of the water resemble the paintings of Lu Han’s imagination and heart when he plays the guzheng for Baekhyun every now and then.
The rain is calm to Baekhyun: it takes the warmth of the sky and blankets the world in a form of comfort that he can’t seem to find elsewhere. And this is Lu Han to Baekhyun, everlasting against the universe’s wishes, even with the flaws that draw out along his existence.
It’s funny, really, the more he thinks about it. Lu Han always compliments him and never lets him say that he sucks at anything. Baekhyun thinks that it’s kind of excessive, but he’s grateful.

Sometimes, he believes Lu Han when he says that he’s perfectly capable of whatever he wishes to do.

Baekhyun flips to the back of the book and scribbles down a few words before he hears three knocks from the front door.
---

These days business has been low, and Yifan’s grateful. When the place is filled with people, he finds it difficult to cater to every customer equally and make them want to come back in the future.
The day’s almost half spent when Yifan’s cashing in a return for a customer who didn’t find their emperor and empress keychains of great value. He finishes the return, and the man walks away from the counter.

Today’s especially quiet, so Yifan’s just been sitting around, spinning around on his swivel chair until his eyes burn from trying to refocus. And as per usual, he spends much of his free time watching Tao clean.

Since there are little to no visitors today, with it being an early Sunday morning where many are still at church, Tao is left with practically nothing to scrub. He’s been walking around, playing games with himself seeing if he can walk quickly and not touch any of the edges of the tiles, which keeps him pretty occupied.

Yifan mans the cash register for another half hour, skimming through purchases and gluing a smile to his face despite how tired he is. He entertains himself by thinking of names for certain customers that catch his eye until his phone buzzes in reminder that break has just started.
Yifan stretches his back like a cat, outstretching his fingers and turning his head to either side against the counter and then gathers his things to go to the lounge. Right on cue, Yixing enters through the back door, flashing Yifan a bright smile before setting up behind the counter.
The lounge is barren when Yifan arrives. He takes a seat at the table in the center of the room. After a few minutes of silent chewing, the door’s handle shakes and the hinges creak as another person steps tentatively inside.

Tao.

“Excuse me?”

Did I just say his name out loud?

“Did you say my name?”

Fuck.
“No.”

“You sure?” Tao sits down at a seat directly across from where Yifan is.

“Positive.”

The only sound in the lounge is the clear ticking of the clock’s hands as Yifan sips on his green tea. He has his phone on the table, scrolling through his missed messages and replying to them.

Tao shifts in his seat. “Business is low today, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Yifan mumbles in response, pretending to be absorbed in his phone.
“I don’t get why all of us have to come when there’s practically no customers around.” Tao says before finishing off the last of his soup noodles and capping his thermos.

Yifan, still hunched over looking at his phone, gazes upwards and locks eyes with Tao. “I mean, it’s just in case there’s random influxes of visitors at strange times of day, I’d think.”
“I guess so, but Meng Jia gets so annoying on those days; she always makes me man her station so she can take unlimited breaks,” Tao trails off.
“She does that to me too, isn’t it irritating?” Yifan tilts his head up and Tao nods in agreement.
“And building on that, Mr. Qing never gives us enough breaks, it’s like he thinks-”
“-that we’re robots.” Yifan interjects. “It’s ridiculous, right?”
“It is.” Tao’s lips form a straight line in annoyance.
“But Yixing always makes it bearable, even if his jokes are incredibly dry,” Yifan cracks a tiny smile in thought.

Tao flashes him an eye smile before his expression drops slightly, but Yifan can barely notice.
Tao nudges the temporary silence away. “Thanks for the other day.”
Yifan’s confused for a moment, but then remembers. “It’s no problem.”
“...I never really thought you to be so outspoken.” Tao half whispers. “You literally got all up in his face.”
Yifan laughs deeply. “I didn’t do much: I just stated facts.”
“Still. Thank you for that.” Tao repeats, “I’ll repay you, somehow. I could take over your shift once or twice if you really wanted me to.”
“It’s okay-”
“I mean it.” Tao states firmly, eyes burning straight through Yifan’s.
Yifan doesn’t answer. He nods instead.

“There’s something else you could do, actually,” Yifan looks down at the table nervously.
“What is it?”
“Keep talking to me.”

Yifan’s head jerks back to see Tao scratching his neck.
“I-I mean you don’t have to, it’s just that this job gets so fucking boring sometimes and I-”
“Sure.”
“You promise?”

I sound like a five year old; why is he even talking to me? He probably thinks I’m a big ass loser and-

Tao outstretches his pinky. “Pinky promise.”
Yifan hooks his pinky around Tao’s. “Pinky promise,” Yifan repeats back sheepishly.
Yifan’s cheeks are burning. He’s so worried about his own cheeks that he doesn’t notice Tao, whose face is a delicate red.

He makes it bearable.

Yifan sees Tao's eyes flutter.

So, so bearable.
---

Baekhyun decides that he likes kissing a lot. More specifically, he likes kissing Lu Han. He likes kissing his nose and forehead and cheeks and lips all the same. And he really likes the fact that Lu Han lets him.

“Lu Han, I’m tired, can we finish for today?” Baekhyun sees Lu Han’s ears perk up. So cute.
“Yeah, actually,” Lu Han replies, shutting off the iron and folding up the shirts neatly. He walks over and sits next to Baekhyun on the couch, resting his cheek on the sticky leather. Baekhyun cracks his knuckles one by one.
“How can you so carelessly kill your hands?” Lu Han scrunches his nose in displeasure, covering Baekhyun’s fingers with his own.

Baekhyun laughs, taking one glance at Lu Han’s hand on his and patting his fingers.
“Don’t believe everything you see on the internet, Lu.”
Lu Han scoffs, pulling his hand off of Baekhyun’s quickly. “Have fun with arthritis.”
Baekhyun bites back a retort, because holy shit Lu Han looks cute when he pouts. He ruffles Lu Han’s hair and smiles. “You’re cute when you think you’re right.”

Lu Han shakes his head. “Whatever, man.” He pushes his hands against the sofa cushions as he stretches out his back. “So what do you want to do for the rest of today? It’s only 4 P.M..”

“I dunno, sleep maybe?”

Lu Han shoves Baekhyun playfully. “Remember the last time you did that? You couldn’t fall asleep so you blasted EDM for about four hours.” Baekhyun giggles at the memory.
Lu Han suddenly claps his hands. “I just remembered that Jongdae brought in an old keyboard the other day. I’d love to hear you play!”

Baekhyun freezes, but gives a weak smile. Not here.
“I’m kind of tired today, can I play for you later?”

Baekhyun loves piano. He does. He loves playing piano, learning new concertos and sonatas, and performing on piano. But there have been times when he has had to play under pressure and he can’t help but think of how exactly he was made to practice.
And frankly, he doesn’t like thinking about that too much.

Lu Han grips Baekhyun’s upper arm and pulls at it. “Pretty please?” Baekhyun shakes his head no, but as soon as Lu Han sends a pout his way, and Baekhyun is sold.
“...Alright,” Baekhyun grumbles halfheartedly, letting a small smile slip as he stands up.
“Yes!” Lu Han gestures for Baekhyun to follow him into his room. The door creaks open as Lu Han peeks past it, and the two enter. Baekhyun takes one look around.

“No offense, but I’m pretty sure there isn’t a piano in here.”

Lu Han snickers and shakes his head, pulling a bored Baekhyun into the closet.
“So tell me, why are we now in a fucking closet?” Baekhyun asks, unable to see anything at all because of the darkness of the closet. There’s only a sound of a switch being flicked, but what he sees is enough of a reply.

The closet is actually quite large, with the clothes not taking up too much space and buckets overflowing with fabric lining the walls. There’s wire racks sticking out near the ceiling, with stacks of boxes resting on them.
And a dainty yet old keyboard sits dead center.

Baekhyun gives a nervous smile, tipping his head downwards to look at the piano as if it were part of a terrifying obstacle course. “You okay, Baekhyun?” Lu Han pokes him on the shoulder. Baekhyun shudders but nods, turning and flashing a small grin.

Just play something simple.

He sits on the cushioned seat and quickly becomes acquainted with the pedals. He stretches his hands. “How does Rachmaninov sound?”
“Lengthy, but I’ll take it.” Lu Han pulls out a box from the corner to sit on.
The keys feel strange, Baekhyun thinks. These ones feel like they’ve seen countless hands pound on them. He notices a tiny groove in a black key and feels around it, but begins the concerto.

Baekhyun hasn’t played in a while, so his fingers are a little jittery and he hits a few wrong notes and flinches. He continues, straining to remember the correct scales and third and fourths and on the fifth bar he slips majorly. His palm grazes the white and a clashing of tones resonates, and Baekhyun winces. He looks over at Lu Han, who has his eyes closed.
My playing is so boring that it put him to sleep. Great.

Baekhyun shakes off the thought and presses his fingertips to the keys once again, trying to lose himself in the harmonies that weave perfectly with the lilting melody even though he stumbles through the arpeggios. Eventually, he picks up a comfortable rhythm and follows through with it, even humming with his playing.
---

God, does his music gleam.
---

Baekhyun’s almost near the end; the finale rushes in with blaring fanfare and flourishes that ring and ring and ring. But just as he did the beginning, his fingers begin to slow and the notes aren’t clear, blurred by extra notes that his fingers stumble on.

Come on, keep it together...there’s only two lines left.

He presses forward with an unwavering urgency that pierces through the air that nearly masks his errors. But his fingers falter three measures from the end, and he can’t remember the last bars.

Silence swallows him up and spits him out and god is Baekhyun frustrated.

“That was…” Lu Han pauses.

Horrible. Awful. An abomination to your ears. Embarrassing. Pathet-

“I haven’t heard anything so…”

Messy. Overdone. Full of mistakes, like I am.

“Beautiful.”

Baekhyun swerves around on the seat to stare at Lu Han, who’s looking fondly at him.
“Are you sure?”

Lu Han laughs, his smile doing a far better job at brightening up the room than the ceiling light fixture. “Yes! Is it so hard to believe that you did well?” Lu Han rests his chin in his hand, arm propped on his knee. “You made a few mistakes, but doesn’t that make it more genuine?”

“She never thought so…” Baekhyun mumbles, looking away from Lu Han and observing the dull black and white keys.
“Who?”
“No one important.”
Lu Han gives him a confused look, but gives up on the matter, stretching out his back as he gets up and takes his leave, motioning for Baekhyun to follow.
“Wanna watch some movies on my bed with some hot chocolate?”
“Oh, fuck yes.”
---

“So we’ve finished Castle in the Sky and The Cat Returns. I have Spirited Away if you wanna keep going?”
Baekhyun pouts. “Only if there are Korean subtitles.” Lu Han smiles in apology and slips the disc into the player. They’re both in the dark, lying on their stomachs up close to the T.V. standing on the dresser.

Halfway through the film, Baekhyun is scared. Correction, he’s fucking terrified.

“Y-you know, I don’t remember this one to be creepy,” Baekhyun stutters, head hiding behind Lu Han’s shoulder. He hears a chuckle and swats at Lu Han’s arm. “Stop.”
“I didn’t know you were one to be scared so easily,” Lu Han giggles. Baekhyun shifts his position to rest his head on Lu Han’s shoulder instead.
“It’s okay though, I feel better when I watch scary films with other people,” Baekhyun murmurs into Lu Han’s neck.
Lu Han turns his head. “I make you more at ease?”
“Yeah, you do.”
“Even up this close?” Lu Han feels Baekhyun’s breath against his face, and their noses almost touch.
“Yeah, actually.”

And Baekhyun grabs Lu Han’s face by his cheeks and presses his lips against his as if he were fighting for air. Lu Han leans in as he sits up and Baekhyun follows, his hands finding Lu Han’s waist and pulling him in impossibly closer. Their lips mesh and Lu Han’s taken by surprise when Baekhyun bites at his bottom lip.

“Fuck,” Baekhyun huffs out as they part lips for a few seconds to get air. He stares at Lu Han with glazed eyes before kissing him again because Lu Han is his air. Lu Han taps his tongue at Baekhyun’s lips for entrance, and Baekhyun happily obliges. Their tongues battle as Baekhyun hugs Lu Han and pulls him onto his lap. Lu Han’s hands are everywhere, traveling from the nape of Baekhyun’s neck to his cheeks, keeping his head in line with his own. Lu Han’s mouth drifts down to Baekhyun’s collarbone. He sucks a neat little mark, pulling at the skin with his teeth which makes Baekhyun moan. Baekhyun’s hand gradually sneaks towards Lu Han’s dress shirt. He gets through one button before he feels Lu Han’s hand pushing it away. “Not today,” Lu Han pants in between pecks. Baekhyun nods and thrusts his tongue into Lu Han’s mouth again, lips sloppily meeting Lu Han’s. His hands unconsciously reach for Lu Han’s hair before Lu Han can even notice.
Baekhyun expects to run his hands through soft clouds.

He doesn’t expect for all Lu Han’s hair to fall from his head, dangling in his grasp.

And Lu Han is fucking horrified. He watches the wig dangle from Baekhyun’s hand, strands blowing about because of the heating.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Not now.

Lu Han can barely stand it as Baekhyun absorbs the scattered patches of hair on his head. Baekhyun drops the hairpiece.
“Lu Han, I-”
Lu Han doesn’t want to listen, because fuck, he didn’t want this to happen so soon. He immediately slides off Baekhyun’s lap, and his every step makes his own brain throb.
His head spins as he hears Baekhyun following him, and he swings into the bathroom, locking the door. And he’s crying, the teardrops finding home in the grooves of his face. His hands rub at his eyes and he feels a cloud blur his thoughts as it fuels his erratic sobs. He ignores the pounding on the door.

Not like this.
---

It’s been a few hours, and Baekhyun’s given up on talking to Lu Han at the moment, reflecting on the sofa.

It makes sense now.
Sleepless nights, uneasy stomach, mouth sores.

Baekhyun tries to melt his eyes into the wall.

The hair loss…
Just like Dad.

He stops himself, and tentatively tiptoes over to the bathroom.
“Please, Lu Han…” Baekhyun taps on the door gently. “Let me in.”

Baekhyun knows he should probably give Lu Han some space, especially after what happened earlier, but god does he want to tell Lu Han he understands up close. He’s familiar with the pain, even if Lu Han’s drastically differs from his own.
He wants to help more than anything else.
Baekhyun’s hand drifts to the handle, and he tests it even though he knows it won’t budge.
But it does. He hears a click, and tentatively pushes the door in.
“Lu Han?”

Lu Han’s crouched in the corner of the bathroom, back to Baekhyun, his head leaning on the shower door.
“Go away.”

Baekhyun’s hand on the door handle tenses. “How could I leave you like this?”
“Baekhyun, just go. You don’t understan-”
“Lu Han, it’s okay, I do understand-”

The door is yanked from Baekhyun’s grasp. Lu Han replaces it, cheeks glistening and eyes a pulsating rouge.
“You understand, huh?”
Baekhyun’s shellshocked. “Well, I think--”
“So you’re telling me that you understand coming home after chemotherapy wanting nothing more than for the ground to swallow you up because the pain is unbearable,” Lu Han grits his teeth and his eyes spill again. “You understand that, huh?”
“You don’t understand how much I have to sacrifice to have you here. My hair isn’t just falling out because of treatment.” Lu Han’s yelling now, hands grabbing at his hair. “You don’t understand! You don’t understand the physical pain!”
“Lu Han-”
“You don’t fucking get it, Baekhyun,” Lu Han spits, hands clenched tightly around each other, “
You don’t! You never will. So stop trying to tell me that you understand or whatever comforting bullshit you fling at me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Every time you say bad things about yourself, I feel daggers in my throat. You don’t see yourself as you should, and it drives me nuts. You don’t understand and I try to remain calm and fuck, Baekhyun, I do love you but I don’t think my brain or body can handle this anymore.
There’s...so much more behind the scenes than you think, Baekhyun.” He rubs at his eyes. “You remember that time I came out of the shower, right?” Baekhyun nods, and Lu Han continues.
“You kept bugging me to hurry up, but I was so tired…” Lu Han whimpers, sniffling loudly. “I was so tired, and I didn’t have my wig on and you kept banging so I threw it under the sink and slapped it on my head.”
Baekhyun’s staring at the tiles, trying to soak up everything.

“Lu, I-”

“And that other time you said I didn’t eat healthy and god I wanted to scream at you that that wasn’t the reason why...” Lu Han trails off. “And all those times I tried to play off vomiting as the stomach flu...I waited until night for that. So you wouldn’t hear me.”

“Lu Han-”

Luhan ignores him and continues. “Downing aspirin when you weren’t looking.” He sighs heavily. “Smiling...for you.”

Baekhyun’s quiet now, eyes low.

“I tried to mask everything, but it ended up spilling out anyways.” He looks downwards, tears trickling down his face. “I… I tried so hard. I really did, you know?” He fights to give a tiny smile, laughing bitterly but eventually losing that battle.

Lu Han sobs as he chokes through every word, sinking down to the ground and burying his head in his arms.
“I wanted to be strong for you…” Lu Han whimpers. “Fuck, did I want to make you happier without you knowing.” He sniffs, whispering, “Especially with your parents…”

“...What?” Baekhyun asks quietly.

“Jongdae… told me,” Lu Han stops talking almost instantly. “I mean, I just-”

Baekhyun nods off Lu Han’s last few words, knowing that he’ll properly process them later. He enters the bathroom, shutting the door, and sitting down across from Lu Han.

“Please leave.”

“Lu Han…” Baekhyun mumbles, reaching out to brush Lu Han’s bangs under one ear, but he flinches.

He flinches.

And Baekhyun feels his entire world crumble.
Baekhyun stands up, slipping out of the bathroom reluctantly.

He closes the door, and winces at the click.