[personal profile] maayacolabackup


*

“So,” Suho says over dinner at McDonald’s, shoving a french fry into his mouth, “I heard you spent some time with Gold Jacket Guy today. You know, that guy you didn’t want to meet.”

“Oh my god, how do you know this?” Chanyeol puts down his sandwich and stares confusedly across the table. “How do you even know this?”

“Obviously, Lu Han called Sehun, and Sehun called Kai, and Kai called everyone and their mothers and put it on his Facebook.”

“Are you serious?” Chanyeol says. “I’ll kill him dead.”

“Redundant,” Kyungsoo says. “And yeah, seriously, so that means that really, everybody knows.”

“I hate everything,” Chanyeol says, and takes another bite of his sandwich. It’s delicious, so at least something is going right over the course of this meal.

“I really don’t understand how your face works,” Suho says. “Like, what expression is that, even?”

“It’s ‘my sandwich is amazing but my friends all suck’,” Chanyeol says, pointedly not rising to Suho’s bait. “And yeah, he volunteered to help me with my photography project after Lu Han bailed.”

“How sweet of him,” Kyungsoo says, and Chanyeol does a double-take. “I’m sure he had zero ulterior motives for that.”

“Are you… Are you teasing me?” Chanyeol’s kind of incredulous, because Kyungsoo is usually a safe haven in the sea of friends who make his life miserable on a regular basis. “D.O., man, how can you betray me like this?”

“It’s like shooting fish in a barrel,” Kyungsoo says defensively. “This is like when you ask me if I’m scared when I’m watching Disney movies on my computer. The joke’s just too easy to pass up.”

Chanyeol groans exaggeratedly. “I give up on life.”

“So tell me all about it. What lies beyond the bitchin’ jacket?”

“A hairdresser, I think; one with a fantastic hand for make-up,” Chanyeol replies, tapping his feet unthinkingly as he speaks. “His name is Baekhyun.” Chanyeol had followed Baekhyun all the way to a beauty salon, and then stood, mouth slightly parted in surprise, as Baekhyun walked inside, with a quick, ”this is the place” and a tiny wave.

“Did I hear Baekhyun?” Kai says, dropping into the booth next to Chanyeol. “Isn’t that Gold Jacket Guy?”

“Yes!” Chanyeol says. “You already know that’s Gold Jacket Guy, you big-mouthed gossip.”

“I was just saving us all time,” Kai says, unabashed. He’s never shy with them, Chanyeol thinks, but he turns into a bumbling mess whenever he has to talk to strangers. Sometimes Chanyeol thinks he should walk around with a constant stream of unknown companions to protect himself from Kai’s abuse. “So he’s not a student, then?” Kai giggles behind his hand. “Is he an older man? Living on the wild side, there, Eggs.”

“Hey, now,” Suho says. “Some of us at this table aren’t students.”

“’Some’ implies that there is more than one person at this table that isn’t a student,” Kyungsoo says flatly, and Suho sighs.

“You’re basically one foot in the nursing home already,” Kai says, and Suho narrows his eyes. “Like, I’m waiting for you to start talking about your joint pain, or-“

“I am one year older than Chanyeol, you asshat. I’m going to kick you out of my band,” Suho says. “I think our concept is too adult for babies like you.”

“Then you’d have to kick out Sehun, too,” Kai says, reaching for the ketchup. He squirts some on the edge of Kyungsoo’s plate and starts steadily eating Kyungsoo’s fries. “Since he’s actually the youngest. And Chanyeol, since he can’t even draw on his own eyeliner.”

“Sehun’s not mentally five. And Chanyeol… well, no one is perfect. He does have his uses, though,” Suho replies, and Chanyeol wonders why he hasn’t found new friends. “What can you do Kai?”

Kyungsoo looks down at his plate, watching the slow disappearance of his food with a kind of detached apathy tinged with resignation. “Kai is very good at games. And dancing,” he states solemnly, and Kai pops three fries into his mouth before he pats Kyungsoo happily on the shoulder.

“I think Baekhyun and I are around the same age, actually,” Chanyeol says, not totally sure why, since most likely, no one is listening to him. “Not entirely sure, as I didn’t ask.”

“Dude, you know you have to ask for age, sign, location. First things first.” Kai has mostly demolished Kyungsoo’s fries, now, and Kyungsoo sadly picks up his burger. “Right, D.O.?”

Kyungsoo nods as Suho snickers into his plate.

“Kyungsoo, you traitor. You’re living with Kai next year,” Chanyeol says. “I’m going to go develop my photos.”

“Does that mean I get maknae Sehun?” Suho muses, and Chanyeol kind of wants to remind him that as much time as he spends with them, he doesn’t actually go to school and live in the dorms. Then again, there’s no requirement for students to live there either, and if Suho asked sweetly enough, Chanyeol thinks Sehun might even go for an off-campus apartment.

“You can’t actually escape us,” Kyungsoo says, and there’s a faint hint of dire amusement in his voice. “We’ve got rehearsal at MACHINE later tonight, remember?”

“Of course,” Chanyeol says. “And until then, I will relish the sweet silence of the campus darkroom.”

Chanyeol leaves the fast food restaurant and heads out into the warm summer night, wishing he wasn’t about to do homework on a Saturday night. Kris, who’d studied abroad in Canada in high school, had told Chanyeol about the wonderful world of summer vacation, but Chanyeol doesn’t know, honestly, what he would do with three months off besides goof off.

Still, it’s photography homework, and photography is something Chanyeol likes. Not as much as music, but it’s interesting, anyway.

The darkrooms are all deserted, because normal people play around on Saturday nights, so Chanyeol has the place to himself. He locks himself in the one furthest to the back.

When Chanyeol is in the darkroom, he doesn’t fidget. He’s got a reputation for bouncing around, always moving or fiddling with something, but when he’s doing this, there’s a sense of calm he can’t really find anywhere else.

He carefully readies his reel, and checks the tank. Then Chanyeol adds pre-developer, and tries not to miss the way his sister had taught him how to develop film with coffee and vitamin c when he was a kid.

Once he starts, it’s a slow methodical process to finish. When the pictures are hanging up to dry, slowly becoming clearer and clearer, Chanyeol takes a moment to marvel at how well the pictures have turned out. Baekhyun's smile is luminous, and even the pictures that are off-centered and odd have a certain charm to them.

Just looking at the pictures is enough to give Chanyeol butterflies. He sighs, and grabs a fistful of his hair, pulling it in frustration. And yes, Baekhyun is attractive, but that doesn't mean Chanyeol is attracted. He’s no Chanyeol, after all.

Chanyeol doesn't like men. He's just flattered, is all. He likes the way Baekhyun unabashedly likes him. It's nice, Chanyeol thinks, to be liked, even if it's in horrible ways that involve glitter signs and jackets that would blind a weaker man. After all, he doesn't even know if he wants to be friends with Baekhyun, so how can he possibly...

Chanyeol, stop being stupid, he says to himself, and starts choosing photos to keep. In the end, he can't decide, so he takes them all home.

*

"It really does sound weaker without Kris," Sehun says, looking over at Suho with his dark eyes. His bangs fall into his face, and his mouth is set in a thin line. "Like, less full."

"I agree," Kyungsoo says, and Suho groans, cradling his face in his hands. Sehun strums a few chords on his bass and frowns.

"I know, I know," Suho says. "Damnit, we need another vocalist. It's not that Kris was the only singer,” he nods at Kyungsoo, “but the songs sound hollow. Especially ‘Two Moons’."

"I thought Lu Han was, like, good at singing," Kai tosses a rice cracker at Sehun's face. "Sehunnie, can your boyfriend sing with us?"

"It's not like that," Sehun says, but there's barely any fight in his voice. Chanyeol is sure he's just so used to being taunted about Lu Han that it's just a token resistance. "And Lu Han doesn't have time to be in a band. He barely has time for his nighttime language classes in Korean at Yonsei."

"Damn," Kai says. "That would have been an easy fix."

Suho purses his lips. "Well, we'll have to hold an audition or something."

“No,” Chanyeol says. “Let’s just put out feelers with our friends and make sure there isn’t anyone who’s like, not a stranger, that would fit the bill.”

“I agree with Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo says, tapping his fingers on his knees.

“That’s because you’re afraid of strangers,” Kai says, sitting down next to Sehun and leaning his head on his shoulder.

“No I’m not,” Kyungsoo says. “I think strangers are afraid of me.”

‘That’s because they want to know why you’re so upset with them-“ Kai starts, but he’s interrupted by Sehun.

“I was never afraid of you, hyung,” Sehun says, and he smiles as Suho huffs, annoyed.

“Can we focus?”

“We are focused,” Chanyeol says. “There’s just no immediate solution to this problem, so relax, leader.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Suho says. “Well, I guess we can call it a night.” Suho stretches his arms above his head, t-shirt riding up to bare a strip of his toned stomach. “Chanyeol probably wants to go home and think about Gold Jacket Guy, and I’ve got things to do, so-“

“One day,” Chanyeol says, “I’m going to take advantage of my superior height, and pick you up and throw you off a building.”

“You’re not as cute as usual today,” Suho pouts. “Gold Jacket Guy must have really riled you up.”

“He’s nice,” Chanyeol says.

“He’s pretty,” Kai says, and leers at Chanyeol. “Almost as pretty as Lu Han.”

“Almost,” Sehun says quietly, and then flushes when everyone turns to look at him. “Although I suppose that could be a matter of taste,” he mumbles even more quietly, examining his shoes and letting his hair fall into his eyes.

“I’m the best looking, really,” Chanyeol says. “But he’s not bad.”

Kai rolls his eyes dramatically and stands. “Peace out, team,” he says, and Chanyeol and Kyungsoo follow hot on his heels, heading back to their own dorm to get some much needed sleep.

*

It occurs to Chanyeol that night, as he’s spreading the photos across his bed to look at them again, that he has no idea how to get in contact with Baekhyun, or what his last name is, or anything about him other than that they might be relatively the same age, and that Baekhyun has an alarming collection of clothes that are an assault to Chanyeol’s eyes. He knows where he works, but he can’t just… show up there, because that’s weird and uncalled for.

“Why do you look like Red Mango ran out of pomegranate frozen yogurt?” Kyungsoo says, looking up from his computer science textbook at Chanyeol’s sigh. “Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”

“I told Baekhyun I’d get lunch with him if he posed for my photography project.” Chanyeol shuffles a few photos from the large pile onto his pillow. “Except then he had to go to work.”

“Um.” Kyungsoo closes his textbook. “So why does this warrant pomegranate froyo levels of despair, exactly?”

“It’s not despair,” Chanyeol says, and then he pouts at the photos. “It’s just that I realized I have no way of contacting him.”

“He comes to our gigs every Friday,” Kyungsoo says. “I’m sure you’ll manage to keep your lunch date somehow.”

“I know,” Chanyeol says. He links his fingers to keep from picking at the hem of his shirt, because he’s destroyed too many that way. “It’s just that…”

“What?” Kyungsoo says. “Is there some reason it has to happen before next Friday?”

“My project is due on Wednesday,” Chanyeol says. “I wanted him to see the pictures before I turned them in. In case he wanted to, like, I don’t know, veto them.”

“Um.” Kyungsoo stares at Chanyeol for a minute, before he blinks twice and picks his book back up. “So you want to see him again, and you even have an excuse to, but you didn’t get his number.”

“It’s not an excuse!” Chanyeol stares exasperatedly at the photos covering his bed. “They’re all good, so if he takes away the ones he doesn’t want me to use, maybe that would narrow it down-“

“Well,” Kyungsoo interrupts, crossing his legs and resting the book between his thighs. “You know he goes to the bubble tea shop. You could hang around there and see if he shows up.”

“That’s stalking,” Chanyeol says. “I’m not going to stalk him. He’s the stalker.” Chanyeol pouts. “I’m far too attractive to stalk people.”

“First of all,” Kyungsoo says, holding up his index finger, “your friends work there and you hang out there all the time anyway.” He holds up a second finger. “Second of all, he makes glittery signs with your name on them. Really, waiting around to see if he comes to Tenren’s is not even remotely as stalker-ish.”

“So it’s a matter of magnitude?” Chanyeol glares at Kyungsoo. “That will never work.”

“Okay,” Kyungsoo says. “You sit over there and brood about your pictures then; I’ve got an exam to study for.” Kyungsoo looks down at his book and starts to read. Chanyeol pushes a few photos aside to make space to sit, and pulls his legs up in front of him on the bed, wrapping his arms around his shins.

Chanyeol sits and fidgets for a minute, looking back and forth between the pictures and Kyungsoo, before he bites his lip. “Do you really think he’d drop by the bubble tea place?”

Kyungsoo laughs, and looks up at Chanyeol, looking more like a deer in the headlights than a sage voice of reason. “I’ve honestly never seen you this unconfident before.” He scrunches his nose. “Who knows?” Kyungsoo scratches at his ear. “Maybe he’s kicking himself for not getting your number, too.”

Chanyeol frowns and stretches a long arm out toward his desk to grab for his phone.

“Who are you calling?” Kyungsoo asks curiously, and Chanyeol blushes, and tries to keep his face from contorting into something between a nervous chuckle and a grimace. From the look on Kyungsoo’s face, he’s not sure he’s successful, but that might just be Kyungsoo’s default expression of total alarm.

“Sehun,” Chanyeol admits. “I think he’s got work tomorrow.”

Chanyeol pretends he doesn’t notice Kyungsoo’s tiny, almost invisible smirk.

*

Chanyeol doesn’t actually expect Baekhyun to show up, because life isn’t like a drama. It’s more that Chanyeol really likes bubble tea (although maybe not as much as Sehun does) and in the end, it seems worth a shot. Chanyeol chooses a table near the back, and sits facing away from the door but within sight of the register. He spends most of Monday loitering around, eating his weight in tapioca balls and agonizing over photo-selection. He sees a couple other kids from his photography class wander in to the shop, since it’s so close to campus, and they all offer him sympathetic nods. One thing about going to Hongik University, Chanyeol thinks, is that everyone’s taking art classes, and no one ever assumes that those classes are easy.

Sehun sits with him on his breaks, quietly offering his advice as Chanyeol discards photos and adds others to his folder for matting.

“Do you live in here?” A warm hand settles on Chanyeol’s shoulder, and Chanyeol jumps, surprised, accidentally dropping five or six photos to the floor. He starts to scramble out of the chair to pick them up before someone steps on them, but Baekhyun’s hand presses down, keeping him in his seat. “Sorry, didn’t mean to surprise you. I’ll get them.”

“Thanks,” Chanyeol says. “And no, I don’t live here.” He clears his throat. “But two of my friends work here.”

“Sehun. With the lisp,” Baekhyun says, pointing up toward the counter. “And Lu Han, who I met on Saturday.” He puts some of the pictures on the table before walking a little further over to get the other two

“Right,” Chanyeol says. “Anyway, just felt like working here today.” He busies himself with wiping the dirt off the four pictures that Baekhyun has already recovered, and Baekhyun sets the last two next to Chanyeol’s folder.

“That’s a lot of my face,” Baekhyun says, leaning down over Chanyeol’s shoulder to investigate.

Sehun looks up from the counter and raises an eyebrow, but Chanyeol just nods at him, and he goes back to wiping the counter. If it were Lu Han, he’d already have come running over to cause trouble, but Sehun is more reserved. He’ll probably have something sarcastic to say later about how flustered Chanyeol must look, with Baekhyun’s hand lingering between his shoulder and neck, soft on his bared skin, because summer is too hot for anything but tank shirts.

“Yes,” Chanyeol says. “Are there any you hate?” He shifts in his seat to get rid of some of the extra energy that seems to have sprung up from Baekhyun’s touch.

“Does it matter if I hate them?” Baekhyun asks, and his voice is right in Chanyeol’s ear, sending a brief shiver down Chanyeol’s spine that he does his best to ignore. Baekhyun’s breath smells like sour apple tea. “It’s your project.”

“I can’t choose,” Chanyeol says. “I think you look good in all of them.” He regrets it as soon as he says it, because it sounds… well, it sounds more like a compliment than like a statement of fact, even though Chanyeol’s meant it as the latter.

“You flatterer you,” Baekhyun teases, and then he straightens, and walks around the table, sinking into the seat across from Chanyeol and holding out his hand. “Let me see them.”

Baekhyun’s wearing a faint dusting of silver shadow across his eyelids today, Chanyeol notices, and then he shakes his head to clear his thoughts when Baekhyun waves his hand in front of Chanyeol’s. “What?”

“The photos,” Baekhyun says patiently. “I’ll tell you if I hate any of them.”

“Right,” Chanyeol says. “Actually, I was hoping…”

“Hoping?” Baekhyun starts thumbing through the photos, careful not to bend them, and Chanyeol watches his hands, and the way the long fingers sit along the edges.

“It’s silly,” Chanyeol says. “Since I’ve never seen you here before last Saturday, I don’t know why I thought you might come here again.”

“You were looking for me?” Baekhyun looks up from the photos to smile, and Chanyeol quickly looks down to stare at the table. “I come here sometimes. I’ve noticed you here before, but…” A blush, before it’s forced back. Chanyeol licks his lips.

“Well, I hate owing people things,” Chanyeol says. “And I owe you lunch.”

‘You do,” Baekhyun says. “Careful, or I might start to think you like me.”

Chanyeol glances up, and Baekhyun’s expression is warm, a small grin pulling at his lips. Chanyeol squirms in his seat, and clutches at his thighs. “I already told you that that’s not…” Chanyeol blows his frizzy bangs out of his face. “All I can offer you is friendship. Can you be happy with that, or should we just give up now?”

The smile drops from Baekhyun’s face, and he regards Chanyeol seriously for a moment. Chanyeol wants to look away, but he doesn’t, despite the fact that it feels like there are eels swimming around in his stomach.

Then Baekhyun leans forward across the table, and smiles again. “Of course,” Baekhyun says. “I’d really like that.”

Chanyeol nods, and takes a sip of his tea. “The photos?”

“Don’t you think this one is… too close?” Baekhyun says, showing Chanyeol a soft-focused picture. It’s just Baekhyun’s nose and a corner of his lips, and you can see the smooth line of his jaw. Chanyeol remembers taking it, because Baekhyun had slipped from the curb he was walking along, and fallen into Chanyeol, and Chanyeol had set off the shutter on accident.

“I quite like that one, actually.” He takes the photo and slips it into the folder.

“Well, you’re the artist, here,” Baekhyun says, and he leans back in his seat, sort of sprawling across it.

“Music, though,” Chanyeol says. “I’m a music major.”

“I remember. At Hongik University.”

“Right. Photography is just fulfilling a course requirement.”

“But you like it, you said.”

“I do,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun scratches his nose, gently, like he’s afraid he’ll make the skin red if he scratches too hard. “I like a lot of things. I also like rap and musical comedy.”

“Musical comedy, huh? That’s something new I’ve just learned about you.” Baekhyun looks through a couple more photographs. “I think this whole friendship thing is going to work out wonderfully.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, and a stream of light comes in through the tea shop window and casts Baekhyun in this subtle glow. He looks more like a painting than a person, and Chanyeol itches for his camera, just so he can record exactly how the other man looks. “Me too.”

*

Baekhyun comes to the gig on Friday. Chanyeol’s not sure why he doubted Baekhyun would show, or why he even cares. Maybe it’s just that he’s gotten used to that familiar gold jacket in the crowd, even if he’d never really had a name of face to attach with it. Now that he does, though, it’s different.

Chanyeol knows it’s ridiculous, but when he sees Baekhyun in the crowd, it makes him grin stupidly, and he almost forgets to announce the band.

After the show, Suho hits him upside the head with a water bottle, and Chanyeol glares up at him, too tired for revenge. “What was that for?”

“Introduce me to Gold Jacket Guy next time,” Suho says, and Chanyeol sighs.

“You guys are making way too big a deal out of me making a new friend,” Chanyeol says, kicking his legs against the stage as he sits along the edge like he always does. “No one makes this big of a deal when Kai makes friends.”

“That’s because I have social skills,” Kai says. “And I also have concrete facial expressions. You kind of wander around in a daze looking a bit like a lost kitten.” Kai runs his hand through his hair. “A lost kitten with Tourette’s.”

“Hey-“

“Anyway,” Kai says, plopping down next to Sehun and leaning against him, “it’s not just you, we make a big deal when Kyungsoo makes friends, too.”

“Yeah, but-“ Chanyeol stops when Kyungsoo looks over at him from the other side of the stage, where he’s winding up amplifier cords, almost like he has a second sense for when Chanyeol is about to put his foot in his mouth. “Ahhh, never mind.”

“We’re just personally invested in this,” Suho says smoothly. “We’ve watched the star-crossed meeting of gazes across the room, shining brightly in the gloom of the basement-“

“Star-crossed? That’s not even-“

“Anyway, it feels like we already know Gold Jacket Guy, since he’s your biggest fan and all.”

“Chanyeol’s a big fan of his, too,” Sehun says, and everyone turns to look at him. “Chanyeol couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of him at Tenren’s yesterday.”

“Backstabber,” Chanyeol hisses under his breath, and Sehun’s smirk isn’t exactly ignorable.

“But I thought Lu Han was on duty the last time you were at Tenren’s.” Suho scoots closer until he’s way too close to Chanyeol in the sticky heat. “Are you telling me that you’ve already had a second date?”

“No,” Chanyeol says, and he wriggles away from Suho, narrowing his eyes at their leader. “It’s not-“

“No, Chanyeol kind of just sat there and waited to see if he’d show up.” Sehun smiles beguilingly at him. He must have learned that from Lu Han, Chanyeol thinks, as he tries to make Sehun wither from his gaze alone.

“That would be more effective if it didn’t look like a seven year old had applied your eyeliner,” Kai notes, and Chanyeol flips him the bird, dancing in place as he vacillates between amusement and chagrin.

“You guys are just a creeper match made in heaven, aren’t you?” Suho says. “Do you like, have lunch behind bushes-“

“Shut up,” Chanyeol mutters. “I just made a new friend. You know I’m not looking for anyone else, and-“

“You’ve got to get over that someday,” Kyungsoo says, walking over to pack a few cords into one of their equipment bags.

“Yeah, but that day isn’t today, or tomorrow, and it might not be for a long time,” Chanyeol says firmly, and Kai groans.

“But your lyrics are so depressing,” he says. “I can’t believe people call you our ‘happy virus’, seriously. Why won't we look each other in the eyes anymore? Why won't we talk? Why won't we love? We shed tears at this painful reality one more time.” Kai points at Chanyeol. “You need to get laid.”

“We’re an alt band!” Chanyeol throws his hands in the air. “It’s supposed to be emo.”

“He’s got a point,” Suho says. “It’s sort of our concept.”

“We need to work on this concept,” Kai says, and Suho tosses his water bottle in Kai’s general direction.

“I’m kicking you out of my band.”

“We’d lose all our female fans,” Kai says, and Chanyeol snorts. “I’m the ‘sexy’ member, remember?”

“You can’t even talk to our female fans. You just giggle and tell them all to call you oppa, even when they’re twice your age.”

“Ladies love it,” Kai says.

“It’s too hot to argue about our love lives,” Chanyeol says, wriggling his toes inside his shoes for lack of a better outlet for his energy.

“Or lack thereof,” Kyungsoo corrects, and Chanyeol stands.

“Are you ready to go, D.O.?” He pulls his backpack onto his back.

“Why don’t you go ahead,” Kyungsoo says. “I’m going to go hash out next month’s rent for this space with Suho, otherwise Suho will accidentally sign away his first-born child. Or mine.” He says it like he’s a resigned mother used to cleaning up the children’s messes.

“Good idea,” Chanyeol says, and he climbs up the familiar stairs.

He waves goodbye to Jonghyun, who’s making coffee at the counter, and walks out onto the street. He looks left and right, but Baekhyun isn’t there. He feels a little dip of disappointment that he quickly suppresses. “He’s not going to wait for you every week now, Chanyeol, and you don’t want him to,” he says to himself, firmly.

He starts walking away, but then he hears a shout behind him. “Hey!”

He turns around, and it’s Baekhyun. He’s got his jacket draped over his arm, and there’s a thin sheen of sweat along his skin from being in the packed basement of MACHINE wearing the horrible thing.

“You’re still here?” Chanyeol blurts out, and then he slams his mouth shut, because he sounds like an insecure middle school girl or something.

‘Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “I just ran to the restroom, and I was worried I’d miss you, but it seems like I made it back just in time.”

“Do you work at noon every Saturday?” Chanyeol asks, and Baekhyun shakes his head no.

“I work at nine am on most Saturdays,” he says. “People always want to get their hair cut on Saturdays.”

“I see,” Chanyeol says. “That won’t work then.”

“What won’t work?” Baekhyun says, and he takes wider steps to keep up. “You’re so tall.” He chuckles. “I probably shouldn’t think that every time I see you, huh?”

“185,” Chanyeol says.

“Eleven centimeters taller than me. Wow.”

“I was thinking about that lunch.”

“You’re sure in a hurry to have it. Wanting to get rid of me?” Baekhyun sounds a little unsure, and Chanyeol doesn’t like the way it rings in his ears.

“No,” Chanyeol says, after a moment’s indecision. “I’m actually just looking forward to it.”

Baekhyun glances up at him, and Chanyeol can feel his eyes boring into him but he stares resolutely forward.

“How’s Tuesday?” Baekhyun asks. “I don’t have work on Tuesdays.”

Chanyeol glances out of the corner of his eye. “That’s something new I just learned about you,” he says, and Baekhyun laughs, nervously.

Chanyeol likes Baekhyun’s laugh. And Baekhyun’s smile. And the way he says Chanyeol’s name, too. He likes a lot of things about Baekhyun, actually, and as much as he hates the way that he feels all tied in knots whenever he talks to him, Chanyeol wants to find out more about him. Curiosity killed that cat, he figures.

“Tuesday is fine with me,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun fishes a pen out of his pocket and grabs Chanyeol’s hand.

“I have to turn here,” he says. “To go to my apartment.”

“Oh,” Chanyeol says. “Right. Not a student.”

“Right.” Baekhyun turns Chanyeol’s palm so it’s facing up, and presses the pen to Chanyeol’s skin. “So here’s my number. Call me to make arrangements.”

“Okay,” Chanyeol says, and then Baekhyun is walking off, whistling into the evening air and Chanyeol is left with a hand that tingles and eleven numbers scribbled onto the palm of his hand.

*

Baekhyun, Chanyeol learns, texts with a lot of smiley faces. He also texts a lot, but Chanyeol doesn’t mind, because it gives him something to do during class that isn’t chew on his pen or make up beats by tapping them out with his feet on the tile floor, which drives his teacher nuts. She probably notices the texting, Chanyeol thinks, but maybe she considers it an improvement.

They end up eating lunch at a pseudo-Italian bistro that Chanyeol’s never tried, because his favorite food is Kalbi and because he always feels too big for these sorts of places, with their tiny tables and chairs that make him feel like he’s a giant in a dollhouse. It’s on the second floor of a building right out Sinchon station exit five, not too far from MACHINE, so it’s easy enough for Chanyeol to hop on the subway and meet Baekhyun at the subway station, following Baekhyun through the thick afternoon crowds to find the restaurant.

But the food is really good, and Baekhyun is even better, pouring water and taking care of everything until he realizes he’s about six months older than Chanyeol, and Chanyeol takes over with an easy going smile.

Baekhyun is full of entertaining stories, even though he seems to lose track in the middle of them, wandering off on bizarre tangents that lead to even funnier stories, and Chanyeol laughs his way through a plate of spaghetti and two cups of gelato, just getting to know him.

“So how’d you end up in a hair salon?” Chanyeol asks. “I mean, not many boys grow up thinking ‘I’d like to be a hairdresser’, right?”

“I wanted to be Tyra Banks,” Baekhyun says, “but that’s not exactly a job opening.”

“I suppose not,” Chanyeol says, giggling around his soda. “Not that a lot of boys want to do that, either. So…”

“Well, there were other things I wanted to do…” Baekhyun says. “But there were, um, reasons I wasn’t suited to do them. So I thought about the things I was good at, and, well…”

“Hair was one of them?” Chanyeol asks, leaning forward. “How do you even discover things like that?”

“I was terribly vain in middle school, you see,” Baekhyun says, and Chanyeol examines his perfectly applied eyeliner and his immaculately put together outfit.

“But you’ve grown out of it now, I can tell,” Chanyeol says, cradling his face between his hands. “Now you’re more of the wash and wear sort.”

“Shut up,” Baekhyun says. “Don’t get me started on your hair.”

“I bet you love my hair,” Chanyeol says. “Everyone loves my hair.” Chanyeol grabs a fried chunk of it and examines it out of the corner of his eye. “It’s got a certain charm.” He gnaws on his lower lip. “Right?”

“It does,” Baekhyun says, and he looks down at his unfinished gelato. “Anyway, my ex-girlfriend trusted me implicitly with her hair. And it was something I liked, almost as much as... Well, it was something I liked, that I could also do, so I went to school for it, instead of continuing high school. Now I’m in training.”

“That’s simple enough,” Chanyeol says. He wants to ask about Baekhyun’s clipped sentence; about what it is he likes more than hairdressing, but something in Baekhyun’s suddenly reserved expression tells him he shouldn’t.

“And you?”

“I just want to make music,” Chanyeol says. “I used to want to be a rapper. Like Eminem.”

“That low voice,” Baekhyun says. “You could have joined an agency and made pop music.”

“I guess,” Chanyeol says. “It just never worked out that way. Then I met Suho, and got talked into joining Heavy Noize. It doesn’t pay much, but we make enough from gigs to keep things running, even if everyone else has day jobs and or is also a student.”

“So do you want to keep doing Heavy Noize? After college, I mean.”

“Maybe. I’d really like to be producer, or a drummer, or something,” Chanyeol says. “I don’t know. I’m nineteen.” He takes another sip of his drink. “My parents would prefer something stable. Like my older sister, who works for a company.”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “But I think it’s pretty cool that you’re brave enough to chase your dreams.” Baekhyun’s gelato is almost completely melted, now, and he’s stirring the remains with his spoon. “Some of us aren’t.”

“What do you mean?” Chanyeol ask, and Baekhyun turns to look out the window.

“Nothing, nothing,” Baekhyun says, before he stands up. “You’re willing to go for it, and that’s great.”

“No matter how difficult something is, I’m always just going to...think optimistically, and smile like an idiot.”

“Smile like an idiot, huh?” Baekhyun taps him on the nose. “Lunch is on me, alright?”

“But-“

“You can get it next time,” Baekhyun says, waiting cautiously to see if Chanyeol minds his presumption, and Chanyeol thinks he wouldn’t mind that at all.

“What should we do now?” Chanyeol asks, as they walk out onto the street, and Baekhyun seems surprised.

“You want to-“ he gulps, and hooks his thumbs through his belt loops, and Chanyeol. ‘I just thought, after lunch, you’d have something else to do, is all.”

“I mean,” Chanyeol says, “if you’re busy I can always go back to campus and-“

“No!” Baekhyun says, waving his hands in front of his face like sheer enthusiasm will make his point clear. “No, I’m free, all day, I just, I didn’t-“ His face has gone a little red, and the way he trips over his words makes Chanyeol feel less awkward himself.

“Okay,” Chanyeol says. “Do you want to, I don’t know, go for a walk?”

“Do you like cookies?”

“What?”

Baekhyun covers his face with both hands. “Sorry, I’m frazzled.” He peeks at Chanyeol through his fingers, and it’s adorable, and Chanyeol smiles. “I made a ton of cookies last night, for a friend’s birthday party. I have leftovers. Would you like to come to my apartment, watch a movie, and eat cookies?”

Chanyeol’s a teenage boy. He’d love to eat cookies. “That sounds… perfect.”

“Great,” Baekhyun says, and he leads the way.

*

“We should go to the beach,” Suho says at the beginning of August. “Like, a long trip. Let’s go to Haeundae, down in Busan.” He leans back against his sofa.

“Let’s not,” Kai says. “I spend enough time with you guys.” He takes a large handful of the chips Suho had set out earlier and shoves them into his mouth, mindless of the crumbs that fall over his pants and the floor.”I should spend the short vacation with other people.”

Sometimes, Chanyeol’s not quite sure how he turns into his swoon-worthy stage persona.

“Do you have other friends?” Suho asks. “And I don’t mean imaginary ones.”

“Now, now, gramps, kids don’t really like to go on road-trips with their parents, so don’t take it personally.”

“I’m going to strangle you one day,” Suho says, and Sehun laughs.

‘You sound like Lu Han.”

“Lu Han could come. And Kris. And Minseok and the other guys. I like all those guys.”

“I thought you called them ‘those bastards who stole the sixth member of our band’,” Kyungsoo says, and Suho waves his hand dismissively.

“That was years ago, I’m totally over it.”

“It was six weeks ago,” Chanyeol says, because he’d met Baekhyun five weeks ago, and Kris had finally told them, the week before that, that he was planning on staying with his other band on a more permanent basis. “You drew a picture of all four of them and Kris and added terrible mustaches and body hair.”

“I don’t remember engaging in such childish antics,” Suho says, looking innocently off to the side.

“The human memory often gets weaker with age,” Kai stage-whispers to Sehun. “We’ll have to get him a full-time nurse soon.”

“Only if it’s a hot nurse,” Suho says. “And you suck at whispering, Jongin.”

“I’m fairly certain he meant for you to hear him,” Kyungsoo says, and then blinks when everyone turns to look at him. “Oh, am I missing social cues again?”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says. “Don’t worry about it.”

“The beach doesn’t sound so bad,” Sehun says. “I haven’t been to Busan in a long while. And I’m pretty sure the Chinese guys haven’t been there before, either. It’ll depend on if we can all get off work, since school’s out for two weeks.”

“It might be nice, but where are eleven guys going to stay?”

“We could rent a place,” Chanyeol says. “It wouldn’t be so bad if we split it.”

“The train tickets are pretty expensive, too, though,” Kai says. “But I could probably swing it.”

“I’ll talk to Lu Han,” Sehun says. “Ask him what he thinks.”

“And I’ll call Kris,” Kyungsoo says. “Maybe his Korean has gotten better.”

“Yeah,” Suho says. “And maybe Lay will actually speak this time. He seems nice.”

“A dream is a wish your heart makes,” Kai says, and Chanyeol looks at him steadily.

“Did you and Kyungsoo stay up all night watching Disney movies again?” Chanyeol sighs. “I wondered why he didn’t come home. You guys should just live together next year so no one can interrupt your Disney Princess marathons.”

“You sound so judgmental,” Kyungsoo says. “Disney is awesome.”

“Perhaps it’s not that I’m old,” Suho says, “but that you are so painfully young.”

“Disney is ageless,” Kai says. “And I won’t hear otherwise.”

“Sure, sure,” Chanyeol says, an amused smile pulling at his lips.

“Your favorite movie is ‘School of Rock’, Eggs. Your argument is invalid.”

“’School of Rock’ is a classic-“ Chanyeol starts, but Sehun clears his throat.

“So, the beach,” he says. “Is four days long enough?”

“Yes,” Kyungsoo says. “That sounds good.” He whips out his smart phone and starts typing away, probably plugging in dates. He’ll probably over-plan everything.

Chanyeol looks down at the floor, considering. “I’d had other plans, sort of,” he says, and Suho frowns at him. “I was going to go with Baekhyun to-“

“Just bring Gold Jacket Guy with you. Make it an even twelve. I really want to meet him, since you’ve moved into his pocket.” He leers. “You two can share a room-“

Chanyeol picks up the entire bowl of chips and dumps it on Suho’s head. “Not funny, Leader.”

Kai lets out a mournful cry at the wasted snacks, and Sehun snickers.

“This is going to be such a fun trip!” Kyungsoo says, and everyone turns to stare at him again. “Right?”

*

“But why am I invited?” Baekhyun asks, as he readjusts his duffle bag on his shoulder. “You guys are old friends, right? I’m just that guy from the audience with the signage.”

“Not exactly,” Chanyeol says. “It’s simple; I’ve told you before. I barely know four of these guys, and the only connections between the groups are that Lu Han is friends with the other Chinese guys because they all take Korean classes at the same night program, and that Kris, who used to be in our band, as you know, is now the leader of their band.”

“Oh yes, so simple,” Baekhyun says, and Chanyeol glowers at him. “But that still doesn’t explain why I’m here.”

“Because I wanted you to be,” Chanyeol admits. “Also, because we had made plans first, and if you wanted to go… Plus, my friends are curious about you and trust me, it’s better to get it over with all at once if you’re planning to stick around, and-”

“Okay, okay. I got it.” Baekhyun reaches up and pokes Chanyeol’s face, and Chanyeol swats him away. “You wanted to spend time with me.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, averting his eyes. “Plus, it’s Haeundae. What’s not to like?”

“There was a horror movie set there a couple of years ago,” Baekhyun says, and Chanyeol covers Baekhyun’s mouth with his hand.

“Please don’t say anything more,” Chanyeol pleads. “I can’t deal.”

“Oh look, it’s Jack and the Beanstalk!” Suho cries, and Minseok laughs, waving enthusiastically and munching on a steam bun, Jongdae at his side reading a magazine. “That’s the last of us, then.”

“Are we really the last to arrive?” Chanyeol asks, and he surveys the waiting area on the second floor of Seoul station with a critical eye. There’s a Dunkin’ Donuts up the escalator, and Kyungsoo has one stuck halfway into his mouth as he looks around at the crowd.

“Your friend D.O.,” Baekhyun says. “Is he okay? Does he not like crowds?”

“Oh, nothing like that,” Chanyeol reminds him, and then he grins. “That’s just his face. You get used to it.” Kai laughs, and Kyungsoo turns to gaze directly at them. “Good doughnut?” Kyungsoo nods.

“If he ever gets high, everyone will know,” Lay interjects calmly from his seat in stilted Korean. “Eye-whites turn red, then.”

“Eye-whites turn red for lots of reasons,” Suho says, and he looks like he’s thinking of a few that are less illegal for experimental purposes.

“Do you have a lot of experience with pot?” Kai asks Lay, and Lay blinks at him. “Because that would explain so much.”

Lu Han throws a protective arm around his shoulder. “Leave Yixing alone,” he says. “There’s a language barrier.” He holds out a hand. “Baekhyun, nice to see you again.”

Baekhyun shakes it, and it begins a long round of introductions, which Baekhyun manages to get through looking minimally confused. Everyone takes to him immediately, which makes Chanyeol feel… good, like he has good taste in friends, even if it’s more that good friends have some sort of interest in Chanyeol than the other way around.

“Is this going to be a long trip?” Baekhyun asks Chanyeol, and Chanyeol hooks his thumbs under the straps of his backpack so he can tug them in closer to his neck, and takes a look at their traveling party. Tao, the youngest of them all, is holding a giant stuffed panda and glaring murderously at the little girl next to him that keeps gleefully poking its foot as he methodically chews on a piece of squid jerky.

“The absolute longest,” Chanyeol replies, and Baekhyun’s laugh must be magic, because Chanyeol finds himself looking forward to it even more than before.

*

Baekhyun, for all his energy while they were waiting for the train, nods off soon after it starts moving. It’s a four-hour trip to Busan even by train, so Chanyeol lets him sleep, scooting down in his seat so Baekhyun’s head can fall more comfortably into the crook of his shoulder, which earns him an interested look from Lu Han that he pointedly ignores by leaning his head against the glass and looking out the window.

Baekhyun, as he’s sleeping, makes this adorable yelping sound, like a puppy, and Chanyeol has to stifle his laughter until he falls asleep himself to the lulling movement of the train and Baekhyun’s warm breath on his neck.

When Chanyeol awakes, it’s to Baekhyun’s legs tangled with his own and the shuffle of people exiting the train. Baekhyun’s arm has locked around Chanyeol’s waist, too, and Chanyeol tries not to think about the way the weight of it feels so comforting and warm.

“Wake up, sleepy-heads!” Minseok lightly shakes Baekhyun’s shoulder, and Baekhyun startles awake, blinking heavy-lidded eyes and looking around wildly, as if trying to figure out where he is.

“What?” Chanyeol can hear the drowsiness in his voice, and it makes him want to push Baekhyun’s head back down to his shoulder and tell him to go back to sleep.

“We’re here,” Chanyeol says, and his own voice cracks. Baekhyun sits up and stretches, and Chanyeol, whose long legs have been stuffed into the train, clamors to his feet, elbows hitting as many things as possible as he stands.

“Not sure I’ve ever seen Chanyeol hold that still for that long.” Suho leans forward. “Did you drug him?”

Baekhyun blinks blearily at Suho then smiles. “I have been told my cookies are addictive, but no, I didn’t give him any this morning.”

“I can hold still if I want to,” Chanyeol says, pulling his and Baekhyun’s bags down from the overhead, and Suho pokes his side, which makes him yell and almost drop his backpack.

“Clearly,” Suho says, and Chanyeol chuckles.

“I just have a lot of energy!” Chanyeol beams at Baekhyun and Baekhyun still seems groggy, but he smiles back. Chanyeol feels strangely content.

They make their way through the station and easily catch cabs from the station to the beachfront, with Chanyeol, Baekhyun, and Kyungsoo waiting for the last one. Chanyeol keeps sticking his head out the window, letting the wind blow his hair and push his glasses into his face, just enjoying the salty smell of the air. He looks over at Baekhyun, and Baekhyun is just staring at him dreamily, head leaning lazily back on the seat. “What?”

“You look like an overeager puppy.” Baekhyun rolls his shoulders, like he’s got a knot in his back. Maybe he does, after the train ride. “Cute.”

“I’m not cute.” Chanyeol slugs Baekhyun in the arm with a loose fist, careful not to hurt. “I’m a grown man.”

“Almost,” Baekhyun says. “You’ve got another six months, I think.”

“Oh really?” Chanyeol pulls back into the car so only his elbow is hanging out the window. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that you’re six months older than me, would it?”

“Not at all.” Baekhyun looks out the other window, in Kyungsoo’s direction. Kyungsoo ignores them both, which makes Chanyeol want to prod at him until he’s forced to pay attention but he restrains himself. Baekhyun must see the mischief in Chanyeol’s gaze, because he lifts a brow inquisitively. “You seem cheerful.”

“Chanyeol’s always cheerful.” Kyungsoo’s voice carries surprisingly well despite two open windows. “He was just a little bummed about some stuff.”

“Some stuff?” The cab pulls to a stop, and Chanyeol hands the driver a man-won bill, before they all climb out of the cab. Kai is waiting for them, hands on his hips.

“What took you so long?” Kai says. “Did Chanyeol’s big head sticking out the window offer too much resistance?”

“Lame,” Chanyeol says, and Kai shrugs, taking their bags out of the trunk and waving off the driver.

“I didn’t get enough sleep last night,” Kai says. “Anyway, the others have already picked rooms so you guys are in the last one to the right.”

They take their bags inside and throw them to the floor. It’s only noon, and Kyungsoo lectures them about sunscreen and snacks as Minseok and Tao hustle them out the door to the beach, Tao randomly hugging them all now that he’s awake enough to realize he’d missed them.

“Tao, don’t cry.”

“Sorry,” Tao mumbles in his fledgling Korean, and Suho laughs and pulls him into a one-armed hug.

“To the beach?”

The sand is warm, and Chanyeol likes the way it sticks to the soles of his feet and gets caught between his toes. He’s mostly just happy to enjoy the sea air, and feel the warm sun on his back and shoulders.

Baekhyun seems equally delighted, kicking up sand as he walks. He’s slathered in enough sunscreen to block probably four suns’ worth of UV rays, (almost as much as Sehun) and he’s dressed the most relaxed Chanyeol has ever seen him, in a pair of swimming shorts and an old t-shirt with the sleeves cut off.

Kai charges into the water, screeching as it licks, cold, at his knees, and Kyungsoo chases after him with a bottle of sunscreen that Kai ignores, and Chanyeol laughs as Kai splashes him with ocean water, screaming about how the Little Mermaid wasn’t afraid of water while Kyungsoo covers his face and holds out the sunscreen like a peace offering. Lu Han and Sehun are fussing with an umbrella, and Minseok and Suho are burying Lay in the sand. Tao occasionally offers a handful of grains, and Jongdae takes pictures as Kris tries to massage out his migraine with a look of long suffering.

Chanyeol just lays out his towel and pulls out his book, shaking his head at his friends.

“Not going swimming?” Baekhyun asks, and Chanyeol waves his book happily.

“Reading,” he says. “I’m going to read while they’re all too distracted to bother me!”

“Clever,” Baekhyun says. “Except you forgot about me.” Baekhyun plucks the book from his grip, turning it in his hands. “’Outliers’?”

“Give it back.” Chanyeol lunges for the book, but slips, palms falling flat into the sand.

He looks up and Baekhyun is holding the book to his chest. “Come play with me in the water and I’ll give it back.”

“Okay, okay.” Chanyeol stands, and brushes the sand off on his shorts. Baekhyun grabs a handful of Chanyeol’s tank top and pulls. Chanyeol stumbles forward, and Baekhyun laughs, letting his hand fall from Chanyeol’s shirt and taking his wrist instead.

He tosses the book down to Chanyeol’s towel, and the two of them run toward the water. “Cold!” Chanyeol shrieks as the waves lick at his shins, turning into froth behind him as he walks deep enough that the water comes up to his thighs.

Baekhyun looks entirely too amused, and kicks water higher, until Chanyeol’s got wet patches across his whole shirt. Chanyeol tackles him, and now they’re both soaked, and Chanyeol’s got seawater and sand in his mouth. He can’t breathe, because he’s laughing too hard, and his hair is hanging limp into his eyes.

Chanyeol slicks his hair back from his face, and smiles at his friend, but his eyes widen at the sight. Baekhyun is radiant. The water droplets linger in the hollows above Baekhyun’s clavicles, and catch the light as they roll down his neck and disappear into the dragging neck of his old t-shirt.

Despite all the water, his mouth is painfully dry.

“What’s wrong?” Baekhyun asks, and Chanyeol pulls a face.

“Sand in my mouth,” he says, and wishes, sort of, that that was the only reason his throat felt like sandpaper.

They lie out on their towels, letting the sun dry their clothes, and Baekhyun takes Chanyeol’s glasses carefully from his face, drying them off with a smaller towel from his bag.

“Thank you,” Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun offers a tiny grin of acknowledgment.

“I meant it, earlier.” Baekhyun picks up a handful of sand and lets it slip between his long fingers. “You look really happy.”

Chanyeol sometimes thinks it’s thanks to Baekhyun, but he can’t say that.

“I’ve been feeling more myself lately. Young and beautiful…” Chanyeol holds up a peace sign and wriggles his fingers. “Happy Virus Chanyeol!”

“He thinks that’s his nickname, but we just call him Eggs,” Kai says, flopping down onto Chanyeol, crushing him into the ground.

“Help, I’m dying,” Chanyeol says, but he doesn’t manage to put enough conviction into his voice as he considers, for a moment, his book, before shoving Kai to the ground between himself and Baekhyun. “Crushed by Jongin.”

“Sunscreen is for suckers.”

“Or people who don’t want skin cancer!” Kyungsoo says loudly, from underneath an umbrella, set up next to Sehun and Lu Han.

Kai ignores him, wriggling into the sand.

“Eggs?” Baekhyun asks, finger-combing his plastered bangs as he speaks. He’s not wearing any make-up, and Chanyeol likes the way he can see the softness of Baekhyun’s face like this, just dewy skin moist from the ocean waves

“Aegyo plus Chanyeol equals Eggyeol.”

“Oh my god, that’s terrible,” Baekhyun says.

“Fans gave it to him,” Kai says gleefully. “That’s the best part.”

“Kai is the only one who calls me Eggs, though,” Chanyeol says. He doesn’t really mind it.

“Except for Tao,” Kai corrects. “Since he can’t say your name.”

“Whose fault is that, again?” Chanyeol pushes his glasses up with one finger. “I should bury you like poor Lay.” Lay is looking apathetically at the sun, and Chanyeol wonders if he minds the weight of all that sand. Probably not.

“Do you have a nickname, Baekhyun?”

“Not particularly,” Baekhyun says, and Kai sits up, getting sand all over Chanyeol and Baekhyun’s wet shorts and legs. “I don’t really need one, do I?”

“Bacon,” he says, like he’s tasting the ridiculousness of it on his tongue. “Eggs and Bacon.”

“What?”

Chanyeol rests his head on his folded arms, and tries not to let Baekhyun see how hard he’s laughing, but when he looks up, Baekhyun is laughing too; sparkling even, and Chanyeol’s at a loss for air.



part three


Date: 2012-07-29 06:51 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tinybars.livejournal.com
OK. I am back here and nothing and no one is stopping me until I'm done this time. :|

I need to leave a comment here though to announce that I'm still loving the Baekyeol friendship with the strength of a thousand suns, AND SUHO'S LIFE BEING THE HARDEST (gramps sdkjfh) and LAY. DRUGS. LAY, yes of course. Also troll Jongin ♥

all right /useless comment. MOVING ON *___*

Date: 2012-09-03 09:25 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] toocrispy.livejournal.com
"Tao, the youngest of them all, is holding a giant stuffed panda and glaring murderously at the little girl next to him that keeps gleefully poking its foot as he methodically chews on a piece of squid jerky."

ROFL! XDD

this is hilarious!! :D
I love it~

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