Lu Han keeps tossing and turning in his sleep and despite the day being exhausting and his mind reminding him of the next day of filming being an early one, his body doesn’t let him rest. Instead, he remembers Minseok. However the image that pops up is not how he would always see the manager with a smile on his face but the one that he’s been subjected to for the past four days; emotionless eyes and smileless lips. With a scowl, he curls in on himself again while pulling the blanket over his head, hoping against hope to get at least a good hour before he starts another day. But even that is robbed off him, a series of knocks on his door and Zitao’s voice reminding him of their early set off, forces him to sit up and bring himself to the bathroom to freshen up, the bags under his eyes heavier than he remembers them to be. He was so preoccupied with thoughts of the manager that he didn’t realize the meager amount of rest he had allotted himself passed by so quickly. The director plans what to tell Minseok as he looks at his sunken eyes and weighty eyebags on the mirror but because of his lack of sleep and inexperience with talking it out, he comes up empty. And even as he pulls himself out of his car, which Zitao offered to drive, his brain is still fuzzy and empty of any words to say.

Lu Han trudges to a room meant for him and his assistant directors, settling on the couch in hopes of getting a few winks before the filming actually starts. Thankfully, the quiet morning helps in lulling him to dreamland, the absence of noise in both his surroundings and his mind makes him fall into deep sleep. The relaxation is short-lived, the director stirring awake when he feels a hand lightly shake him. It’s Yixing, early even when he doesn’t have to be.

“Sorry to wake you,” the author smiles a little, pulling back to give Lu Han the time to come to his senses, “but you’ll be starting in thirty minutes.” The director says words of gratitude towards the younger for waking him up, realizing just then that he forgot to make an alarm for his nap.

Once Lu Han is already standing up, Yixing s a coffee cup to his hand, the same logo he’s been seeing for the previous months facing towards him.

“I guess you haven’t made up,” the younger says once the director takes hold of the cup, “seeing as I’m still delivering this drink to you.” Lu Han wants to spit something back at Yixing for his disapproving tone but the other is already turning around to leave. “You never break your promises, Han,” the director suppresses the grumble emerging from his throat as the smaller male keeps his back to him, “talk to Minseok before the day officially starts. You still have thirty minutes, make use of your time wisely.” Yixing comes out of the room without another word, leaving the elder unable to even protest or explain what actually happened. Instead of dilly-dallying and dwelling on his best friend’s actions, Lu Han checks his watch and sees that he only has about twenty minutes to find Minseok and talk to the manager, whatever it is that they need to talk about.

When he opens the door however, the Korean is already there, standing in front of the room, waiting for him. Lu Han wonders why he had to ask Yixing to bring the coffee to him if the manager is going to be there in the end. But instead of thinking too much of it, the director completely leaves the room and ushers Minseok somewhere private so they can talk and since the room is already slowly filling with other people, it isn’t where they can actually have that privacy.

They eventually find safe haven in one of the houses built near the Yu residence, sitting on cushions as their legs dangle on the edge. It takes a few moments of awkward silence and sighs from both parties before they both start at the same time.

“You–” The two speak in chorus, quickly cutting their sentences short to give way to the other.

“You were the one who said you just wanted to talk,” Lu Han presses when the elder insists that he can go first. Deflating in his seat, Minseok accepts defeat and turns his head away from the director. As much as Lu Han wants the manager to hurry and spit it out already and remind him that they have to start work in a few minutes, he thinks he’s done too much damage already and a few minutes of delay from Minseok is nothing to his almost week-long one. So he sits and waits as patiently as he can, trying his best not to look at the manager. But his eyes can’t help it, he hasn’t properly laid eyes on Minseok for the past four days that the changes in the other’s appearance is easy to detect. Like Lu Han, the manager seems to have luggages under his eyes, dark circles that were poorly hidden behind a few swipes of concealer. He seems to be skinnier than the director can remember, the muscles on his arms deflating along with those on his thighs. The manager doesn’t seem to be faring well, Lu Han would even dare say he looks far worse than the Chinese director.

“I just wanted to be friends Lu Han,” Minseok starts, pulling the director away from looking at how the adorable baozi cheeks have given way for hollow ones. “You know,” the manager continues, his eyes still looking far away from where they are, as if he is thinking of the meaning of being friends with Lu Han, “hang out, get to know you better.”

Lu Han doesn’t know why Minseok is acting this way, being too formal with just asking to be his friend, “I learned from Yixing long ago that you’re not one to open friendships but one invited into it. And I thought,” the manager suddenly fidgets in his seat, his eyes moving slightly from where his eyes were previously locked to the summit of the mountain to the tree mere meters away from them, “that night when we all had dinner together, we matched quite well and even Yixing noticed how well we complement each other.” At this reminder, Lu Han sits up straight, remembering Yixing’s remark and the barrage of messages he received from the Korean after said incident. The man beside him, seemingly feeling his reaction even with his eyes cast away from the other, fidgets as well. Minseok worries his bottom lip and turns his head further away, in order not to meet the director’s eyes and suffer the rejection that he will see from the other’s reaction. 

“I just,” the manager doesn’t know where he is still getting the words coming out of his mouth, “I just want you to be able to open up to me, like you do to Yixing. I know you don’t have many people you consider friends in the industry and I want to be one.” After a few beats of silence, the manager slowly turns his head towards Lu Han, seeing the director has his eyes wide in shock and looking at the ground. For a moment, Minseok debates on whether he should apologize for having said something that might have offended the Chinese man, eyes following the outline of the other’s tense shoulders.

Minseok’s words ring in Lu Han’s ears as he inspects the dusty ground beneath their feet, “I just want you to be able to open up to me.”

It is true, he admits, that he doesn’t have people he can consider friends in the film and entertainment industry. He isn’t offended by the remark though. In fact, he is happy that people are aware of that as it particularly drives them away, the rumors popping up every now and then about his so-called attitude, something that he can easily brush off. The director did have friends before, at least that’s what he thought of them, but when a situation arose, he had to forget what trust was and kept things all to himself. Even Yixing doesn’t know every little thing about him, but the author never pushed every truth out of him and that’s what he likes about the other. He knows that the younger is the only one that he can have complete faith in; someone who will never throw him under the bus. 

The director wants to tell Minseok all these things but he fears that the Korean will only grow curious and force Lu Han to tell him everything. So instead of accepting the manager’s offer and the prospects of adding one more person to the list of his real friends, he rejects it.

“Sorry but I just can’t,” there’s strain in his voice, knowing full well that this isn’t exactly what he wants to do or say but he’s short of time and words to fully explain things to the other. He looks reluctant when he adds, “I need to focus on my job,” trying to find things to say to politely decline even if they don’t make sense. “I mean we can still hang out–” he starts rambling but quickly halts when he sees the other look at him, gaze meaningful with slight hint of hurt that manages to claw at his heart.

“It’s okay Lu Han,” Minseok says after a few moments of silence, the smile on his face is obviously forced, eyes lacking the twinkle it had whenever his lips curve up. The image breaks the director, it is far worse than not seeing the manager smile, pinpricks of pain stabbing at his heart as he sees the corners of the other’s lips quiver. “I can’t force you to become friends with me. You don’t have to force yourself either.” Minseok shakes his head gently as if to add proof to his words before standing up and bowing slightly, the formalness of the gesture going unnoticed by the director as the Korean’s steps take him to where he knows Yifan is being made up for the day’s scenes.

Lu Han watches as Minseok’s figure becomes smaller as the distance between them grows wider.

“I ed up,” he breathes, telling the words to himself as Minseok disappears into the dressing room, his back hunched and his face void of any emotions.

“I really ed up,” he repeats with emphasis, turning away and burying his face into his hands, “I’m ing stupid.” The director knows that scolding himself will do nothing good for him but that is all that he is capable of at the moment, with Minseok’s shaky smile seared to the back of his eyelids.

***

Ever since Jongin professed his feelings for Kyungsoo, there has been a bit of distance between them. It’s not that things became awkward between them or that the younger immediately rejected the advances of the other. It’s just that the scriptwriter wanted to take things slow and he wants his boss to think clearly about it first before they jump into a relationship. The producer accepted the younger’s only condition, thinking that there is nothing wrong with a bit of getting to know each other.

It has been a while since Jongin found someone he can trust, someone who he thinks will be able to accept him. But even if he knows that Kyungsoo is one of the most open-minded people he has come across, he still holds back on a part of himself that he thinks he still can’t share with the younger. It isn’t so much as keeping it a secret from the other but the scriptwriter is right; they still need time to get to know each other better and out of their work relationship. He thinks he can use that chance to ease into a more intimate relationship with Kyungsoo, slowly, piece by piece, giving the younger a part of himself until the other has seen every little thing.

After their dinner, Jongin has been more open about his feelings; sending messages to Kyungsoo whenever they are away from each other like he is some lovesick high schooler not the CEO of his own company. Whenever they are together, the producer makes sure that he takes care of the younger well despite him being the other’s boss, uncaring of the eyes on him when he opens the door for Kyungsoo or wipe the sweat off the younger’s face with his handkerchief. Seeing as they only have a few days left before Jongin has to go back to Seoul again, the producer spends every time he has with Kyungsoo, bringing the scriptwriter wherever he goes even if he doesn’t necessarily need the other’s services, just to keep him close every second possible.

“Do you want to come to Seoul with me?” Jongin blurts out, eyeing Kyungsoo who’s looking at the draft of the script he has written for a drama they will be producing. He bites his lips as he watches the other’s reaction, the scriptwriter obviously stiffening where he’s seated before relaxing slightly after realizing what he has done. The producer doesn’t repeat his question, instead he says, “I just thought you’d like to see Seoul again. I mean,” he stands up and moves from where he’s been sitting behind his desk to sit beside Kyungsoo, seeing the younger’s lips forming a thin line, “it’s been a long time since you’ve been there.”

When Kyungsoo doesn’t say anything even after a few beats of silence, Jongin adds, “You don’t have to think so much about it. If you don’t want to–”

“No,” the scriptwriter interrupts the producer, head shooting up, wide eyes directed towards the other before bowing his head down again, “it’s not that I don’t want to go.” Kyungsoo’s grip on the papers in his hands tightens, loosening once he feels a warm hand on his shoulder, “I-I still have work to do.” The hand moves from his left shoulder to his right before Jongin squeezes it.

“I’m not forcing you to come with me,” the producer’s voice is soft and thoughtful, “I’m just saying that if you want to, you can.” Kyungsoo nods in understanding, not wanting to stay in the topic for too long. He feels Jongin’s gaze stay on him for a while but the elder doesn’t press on and stands up to return to his desk after squeezing Kyungsoo’s shoulder one more time.

They pass the time in relative silence, the room filled with nothing but the sounds of paper flipping and pen scratching against its surface, the occasional knock on the door and Jongin’s secretary’s talking the only breaks to the monotony. Once the sun is close to setting and Jongin has already looked through and signed all the documents he has to take care of before having to fly back to Seoul to stay there for a month, he pulls away from his desk and sits beside Kyungsoo, making sure that the distance he has with the younger is acceptable to the other. 

The scriptwriter looks up when the couch dips on his left side, Jongin’s smile blinding him momentarily before the elder’s voice shakes him, sending a shudder up his spine, “Wanna go now?” When he looks towards the floor to ceiling window he notices that the sky has turned a deep shade of red orange, streaks of purple interspersed between as the night sky slowly swallows the last of the daylight.

“You’ve been so focused with work you didn’t even notice the time,” Jongin comments, lifting a hand up to tuck a stray strand of hair to the back of the scriptwriter’s ear, fixing the younger’s bangs afterwards to have it away from his eyes and get a good look of the other’s face. “That’s so cute,” the CEO suddenly changes, his eyes disappearing in crescents as he pinches Kyungsoo’s cheek. The younger pulls away when Jongin loosens his fingers and lets go of the other’s cheek. The elder laughs a little at the scriptwriter’s reaction before offering his hand to Kyungsoo, “Let’s go eat?” When he doesn’t receive a reply, he pouts exaggeratedly, placing his hand on his stomach before rubbing it and pulling a comical face. “I’m hungry,” he adds, bottom lip jutting out after to coax the younger to dine with him. He knows that Kyungsoo is still far from being used to eating at expensive restaurants and ever since Jongin’s confession he seems to shy away from the lavish meals even more. So the CEO thought of something clever which he shares with the younger. 

“I have an idea,” he smiles giddily at the other, watching as Kyungsoo eyes him weirdly due to his sudden shift in behaviour once again. The younger nods and patiently waits for him to continue, his eyes smiling at the scriptwriter when he does so. “Since we’re always eating at the restaurants in my hotel, I thought it would be a good change for us to eat at your favorite restaurant this time.” He leans a bit forward and wiggles his eyebrows, hoping the younger will say yes when he asks, “What do you say?”

Kyungsoo opens his mouth then closes it again without any sound leaving from it. Jongin watches as the younger’s fingers fiddle at the edges of the papers he has on his lap. The elder’s reaction to the other’s nervousness is immediate, his hand flying to cover Kyungsoo’s smaller one before rubbing soothing circles on the back the younger’s hand. When he feels the scriptwriter relax, he raises his eyebrows in question so as not to repeat himself. Kyungsoo bites his bottom lip, the action making Jongin want to do the same and nibble at the younger’s lips. But his thoughts are broken when the younger opens his mouth again, asking, “Are you sure?”

Jongin doesn’t think he’s ever reacted faster before, nodding his head like an overly excited puppy. “Yes, I’m sure!” He beams at Kyungsoo, the younger shyly smiling back, the twinkle in his eyes informing the other that he is slowly being infected by the CEO’s mood. “Sometimes I feel like I’m forcing you to eat some of the food I order,” Jongin begins to mumble, his voice softening and gradually decreasing in volume, as if he doesn’t want the other to hear him. When Kyungsoo leans to hear him better, the CEO straightens up and smiles widely again, “This way I can taste some of your favorites too.”

The CEO stands up afterwards, offering his hand once more for Kyungsoo to take, “Let’s go?” The younger hurriedly stuffs the papers into his satchel, making sure he dumps all of his pens and other materials scattered on the table into his bag as well. Jongin smiles as he watches the other rustle around the space, head moving every which way to ensure he has everything in his bag. When he sees the scriptwriter is good to go, he leans down a bit to grab Kyungsoo’s hand, grinning widely before pulling the other up. He grabs his mobile device from his desk before leaving the room, Kyungsoo following closely behind with his hand trapped within the elder’s. When the younger tries to pry his hand out of his boss’ hold, Jongin tightens his grip and looks over his shoulder, a smirk edging at the corner of his lips, “You’re not getting away, love.”

***

Yixing comes home quite early, leaving the set when the sun is still peeking from the horizon. The scenes for that day were finished early as they have started filming before the sun could even rise. The author knows he doesn’t need to be there every single day but he gets restless when he stays at home knowing that filming is ongoing. So every day that there is nothing to occupy his schedule, he visits the set and watches how his story comes to life. Although Yixing senses that there is something else that makes him come back everyday, despite the colorful robes that parade in front of him every time he goes there; something he can’t quite pinpoint just yet. But he doesn’t let it bother him and take up so much space in his mind. He just wakes up early, sometimes late into the morning, when he is too tired and want to sleep in, takes a bath, eats breakfast then he’s off to the outskirts of the city. And he repeats it whenever he can, even if he comes home quite late from the set, he doesn’t mind because he feels full in some way, a content smile on his lips when he finally crawls to bed for the night.

The house is empty when he arrives, remembering that Shixun is going to come home late because he has a group project he needs to work on with his classmates. He decides to shower first, wanting his body to warm up because the temperature is slowly dropping to prepare for autumn. The weather has been perfect lately but because the author is always walking around the set, he always comes home with dried sweat all over his body, the sticky feeling that lingers on his skin making him rush to the shower. With still a lot of time in his hands, Yixing decides to fix himself dinner, something he hasn’t been able to do for some time now due to his usual late return from the set. 

While he’s checking what he has in his fridge, his phone buzzes on the countertop, forgetting to remove it on vibrate mode. He closes the door to the appliance before padding towards the counter to check whether it’s a call or an SMS. However, before he can even arrive to where he has set the mobile device, the buzzing stops and two message notifications light up his smartphone. A smile slowly curves on his lips when he sees the sender. Excitement lifts his arm up and makes him grab his phone, placing his right thumb on the home button to open the device without having to enter his password.

From: Wu Yifan
Are you home?

From: Wu Yifan
Just checking because you didn’t text me and it’s been awhile since you left the set

He bites his bottom lip as he rereads the messages the elder sent him, his teeth letting go of the plump flesh so he can smile again, the stretch almost splitting his face in half. The author sways on his heels as he thinks of a teasing reply but before his fingertips can type a reply, another message comes in from the actor.

From: Wu Yifan
Zhang Yixing? You there?

The author fails to suppress the giggle that escapes his lips as he taps on the keyboard to send a response before the actor gets a heart attack.

To: Wu Yifan
Yes I am here, Mr. Wu. :p

Yixing can already hear the grumble that the elder usually produces when the author becomes formal with him, calling him Mr. Wu. The younger can also imagine the actor rolling his eyes because of the reply he received from Yixing. The thought makes the author giggle, tapping away on his screen again to add:

To: Wu Yifan
And yes I’ve already reached home. Sorry, I forgot to let you know.

I didn’t even know I had to tell you about me arriving home, Yixing thinks of adding but he doesn’t, not wanting to create any reason for awkwardness between them the next time they meet. He’s never had to let the actor know of his whereabouts, that the message surprised him, the elder seemingly showing care for him for the first time. The author shakes his head vigorously, hoping the thoughts will disappear soon by doing so. He convinces himself that maybe Yifan is just bored and that the elder has nobody else to bother. After writing back to the actor, Yixing removes the vibrate mode of his phone and places it back, face down, onto the countertop. He returns to rummaging through his fridge, using cooking as a distraction from the unwanted ideas popping in his head. It helps, he goes through preparing his dinner and emptying his bowl without checking his phone. Although he admits to sneaking glances to the mobile device whenever his guts tells him to do so, he still pats himself on the back when he retrieves his smartphone only after washing the dishes. When he opens it, a number of messages came in, enough for him to have to scroll through the notifications. But that’s not what takes him aback, it’s the fact that all of the messages are from Yifan, the earlier thoughts he had re-emerging from the depths of his mind as he reads through them from bottom to top, from the oldest to the most recent one. The last three makes him bite his lips, the idea that Yifan might be worrying for him, resurfacing as his eyes skim through the elder’s words.

From: Wu Yifan
Why aren’t you replying again? Did something happen?

From: Wu Yifan
Yixing? Please reply

From: Wu Yifan
If you don’t, I’m going to call you.