CHAPTER 5

The Royal Deal

Aside from Luhan, no one had seen Baekhyun’s place before. Not that he had a lot of friends, but still, he never invited them in. For Baekhyun, it was shameful to show anyone his state of living, and although he knew how pathetic he was, he didn’t want people slapping it hard on his face. But because it was rude to chase the CEO away after coming all the way from work, Baekhyun had no choice but to take him to his apartment.

When Chanyeol’s head hit the door, Baekhyun couldn’t stop himself from laughing, forgetting his embarrassment on how his place looked like. Chanyeol cursed and rubbed the part of his head that hurt and eventually ducked down to enter the crowded place.

“You live here, princess?” he almost sounded disapprovingly.

Snorting, Baekhyun put the plastic down the kitchen counter and taking out the goods. “You know, saying that right now when you’re in this pathetic apartment seemed to be ironic.”

Chanyeol found nowhere to sit, so he sat on the unmade mattress. Baekhyun’s natural scent was all over the place, especially on the bed. But hell, Chanyeol sounded like he was a creep so he pushed the thought aside and opted to watch the smaller male make instant coffee for two.

“You live alone, Baek?” he asked, a couple of minutes after, Baekhyun didn’t like the tone of worry laced in his question. He hummed and took the mugs in his both hands, sitting in front of Chanyeol and crossed his legs. Baekhyun placed the navy blue mug in front of the giant, while he took a sip in his white one.

“I’m a grown man, Chanyeol. Stop asking things as if I’m a teenager who eloped from my parents’ place.” He meant it as a joke. But the look on Chanyeol’s face wasn’t impressed.

Baekhyun placed the mug on the floor, rubbing his hands on his thighs before opening their unfinished discussion back in front of the convenience store. “So… what now?”

Chanyeol spared him a glance before taking the mug in his hands. He sipped the warm beverage and hummed. It might not be the brewed one he always drinks every morning, but it tasted good. “Now,” he started, placing it back on the floor. “You have to defend yourself as to why you can’t be an illustrator in our company.”

Baekhyun quirked his lips, “Why does it feel like an interview? A twisted one, though.”

“Just get on with it, princess,” Chanyeol pressed.

“Why can’t you just accept a ‘no’?”  he countered.

“Because I can’t see any reason why you have to say ‘no’,” Chanyeol argued. He held up a finger, “First, you got the talent,” two fingers, “Second, you have no job right now,” Chanyeol raised his ring thumb finger last, “And third, I offer you good benefits with it. Other people would die to work with Sehun, princess.”

“But I am not other people. Why don’t you just hire them?”

Chanyeol clicked his tongue. “Like I said, Sehun doesn’t want any other. That brat has something running in his mind. He wants to work with you not just because he wanted a freaking cover for his book, he wanted his trilogy to be as visual as it could. Sehun wanted your work not only for the cover, but also in every important scene he needed in the trilogy. Princess, this is a good opportunity for you.”

True, Baekhyun thought. Every bit of what Chanyeol said was true—the fact that he didn’t had any acceptable reason not to take the offer, the fact that this was a good opportunity for him. But why did he feel like thousands of needles were pricking the insides of his hands? Why did it feel like his stomach wanted to throw up the remnants of what he ate last time? Why did he feel like getting sick?

Their short moment of silence was poked by Baekhyun clearing his throat.

“Sehun liked my worked when I was thirteen years old,” he started; “I believe Luhan’s painting was the last portrait I ever made.” Chanyeol tried to make out Baekhyun’s image in front of a big blank canvas, hands holding the slim brush between his fingers, different lines and shapes of colors.

Baekhyun pulled his knees to his chest, rested his arms over it before propping his chin on it. His eyes was on his toes, as if it was the most interesting thing he’d ever laid his eyes on. His voice was soft when he talked. “It’s been years since then, and I haven’t made anything else after. Do you still think that I could make things the same without years of practice?”

Both coffees had gone cold on the floor, but neither of them even bothered. With all the reasons Chanyeol heard from the other, all he could see were hints of insecurity. Baekhyun might be afraid to let them down, since, as he and Luhan told them, Baekhyun didn’t draw anymore for whatever reason he didn’t know. That was quite mysterious and intriguing. How could such a great artist such as this man drop his passion just like that?

It was such a waste, honestly.

“I’d like to see you try, princess. Give it a shot before I decide, before Sehun decides,” Chanyeol found himself whispering a couple of minutes later. When Baekhyun’s eyes met his for a brief moment before it returned to ogling his own toes, Chanyeol caught a glance of something there. He wasn’t sure what it was—but Chanyeol hated it. He wanted it gone, he wanted to wipe it away. He wanted to wash them all away.

They settled things with Baekhyun asking for time to think about it. That was not what Chanyeol hoped for as an answer, but it was enough to hope for a positive outcome. He invited himself out of the shorter’s apartment with Baekhyun insisted on walking him out. Chanyeol unlocked his car with his keys, the lights on the hood and back flashing once with a single beep. Baekhyun rubbed his palms behind him, watching the CEO rounded the car to get to the other door.

“You have the calling card I gave to you?” Chanyeol asked. Baekhyun jerked a thumb back to the apartment. “In my wallet,” he replied softly. The CEO opened the door to the driver’s seat. But as his eyes raked over Baekhyun’s neutral face, a part of him wanted to repeat the same thing he did in front of his company building. That pair of thin, rosy pink lips invites him, lures him, and he wanted to taste it so badly.

He didn’t know when Baekhyun wou;d call. Or if he would call, that was. Nevertheless, the CEO was holding onto his words. And he hoped that it wouldn’t be that long before the shorter male decided.

“I’ll get going,” Chanyeol scolded himself for being a stiff.

Baekhyun wasn’t sailing better at all, given that the other just answered him with a dip of his head. When the car’s engine roared to life, the window of the passenger’s seat opened. Chanyeol peeked from the inside of his car, with his left hand gripping the steering wheel. How badly he wanted to shove the shorter male inside his car.

“Baekhyun—“

“I get it,” the shorter breathed. “I’ll give it a try.”

Chanyeol’s lips were pressed into a thin line. He was going to regret leaving the princess behind. Whatever, he hissed to himself as he sped away until Baekhyun couldn’t see the silhouette of the car anymore.

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The following days for Park Chanyeol were torturous. As much as it made him looked like a lovesick teenager, the fact that he glanced at his phone twice every fifteen minutes was enough to brand him like one. He waited and waited, jumping everytime there was a message or a call, only to be disappointed that it wasn’t whom he hoped it was. When he was not working, let’s say that he was on a coffee break, he was staring at his wallpaper, grinning to himself as the image of a peaceful looking princess was slowly imprinting in his head.

Every god damn time he closed his eyes, he sees him; he tasted his lips whenever he his own, and Chanyeol was so frustrated knowing that he was far away from him. What could be this desire to know him better? Why him, of all the person that came in his life? What did he see from Baekhyun that wasn’t in anyone else?

Was it his eyes? Honest, and stubborn, reflecting everything that he was?

Was it his face? So pretty that he could rival with the celebrities he knew if Baekhyun tried?

Was it his lips? The house of his small little tongue which are both honey sweet and sharp as blade?

Or was it not only the physical features that captivated him?

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For Baekhyun, he spent his nights restlessly. It was a miracle that he wasn’t having palpitations from the amount of caffeine he’s taking whenever he stared at the blank page of his old sketchpad. With an HB pencil in hand, rolling between his fingers, he tried to think of anything—just anything to draw. But whenever he tried for a , his hand was trembling that it couldn’t form a single line. There was this one time he almost gave up because it frustrated him. He threw the pencil case on the wall, kicked the sketchpad away and burry himself under the sheets of his futon.

He tried to shut his eyes—but whenever he did, a certain man with wickedly huge ears flashes, saying, Give it a shot.

And then he found himself taking all the scattered charcoal pencils back, sharpening those who were not sharp enough. Then, he was back at staring at his blank page.

Tonight would just be the same with those other nights, Baekhyun thought. He just couldn’t think of anything. There was no concept, no inspiration, and no peg—nothing at all. Baekhyun dropped the pencil on top of the sketchpad with a sigh, hitting his head against the wooden wall he was leaning against with.

It really felt like this part of him died already.

He knew that it did. But why was he even trying? Why was he willing to ‘give it a shot’? That damn CEO sure knows how to put someone on edge. But still, Baekhyun thought about the kindness that the man offered him when he needed it the most. Let’s just set aside the theory that Chanyeol might be infatuated with him, because Baekhyun already thought so, a person helping someone without expecting anything in return was too good to be true in this generation, this time. He knew that maybe, doing this for him would be enough as a thank you in action.

Maybe, just maybe, that was the reason why he was trying.

But back to the part when he thought Chanyeol was kinda infatuated with him, Baekhyun almost shuddered in thought. But his instincts don’t lie. He could see how Chanyeol’s gaze lingers when they look at each other. He noticed how his fingers twitched, longing to reach out and perhaps, to touch him. It was crazy, right? Well he just thought… it didn’t mean that it was the truth—that it was real.

Really, a man like him would never look at someone like him.

Chanyeol was a prince. Baekhyun laughed to himself. Yes, Park Chanyeol, to him, was a prince that any young girls would dream to have since they started reading fairytale. Chanyeol was handsome, he had everything he wanted. He had power, he had a big circle of influential friends and family, and maybe thousands of women who were willing to kneel on the path he walked on and kissed the ground.

Baekhyun thought of oval shaped eyes, which orbs were dark and glinting, deep and hypnotizing. He thought of that perfect sculpted nose and full lips forming a handsome smirk. Then he pictured the shape of his face, the height of his cheekbones, and even the dark brows pulled together, making him look like a predator gazing at his prey. Then Baekhyun thought of touching every fiber of his hair that contoured his face, sleeked up and showing his prominent forehead. And then his ears, a little large for his face but then, how could such imperfection adds to one’s charms?

Long forgotten the dull pencils scattered on the floor, even the blade he used to sharpen the graphite, Baekhyun stared right back at the image on the once blank paper. His fingers that were smudged with grayish black, dirtied and tired, traced the lines he made, the shadows and lights that formed the face of the man who wouldn’t leave his dreams every now and then.

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It was been two weeks since Chanyeol visited Baekhyun, two weeks since he last seen him in person, since he heard his voice. Chanyeol was on the edge of jumping in his car and drag the man back to the city, on the verge of dialing his number to ask him one more time—or practicallybeg him. But Chanyeol didn’t. He didn’t because he had pride too. He didn’t want Baekhyun to think that he was an impatient man, more or less, a persistent one even when he really was one.

Though, his self-resistance in those two weeks had passed had him all cranky—Sehun’s words, not his. Whenever he attended meetings about Sehun’s books, he would get tired of their argument and left the room. He was tired of hearing their persistence and tired of Sehun’s bratty attitude. They were beyond the schedule; Sehun didn’t want to start without his illustrator.

Chanyeol went out of his office with long strides. Employees greeted and bowed to him whenever he passed by, not that he acknowledged anyone from them. He wanted to be alone, to breathe for a moment.

Sitting on one of the couches, Chanyeol took out his phone, unlocking the device with his thumb and stared at the picture of one person who could make him smile. Really, Chanyeol always find himself smiling whenever he was thinking about him, or whenever he was talking to him. He didn’t know, but it was only Baekhyun who could pull that side of him.

Crazy. It was crazy to miss a person you barely knew. Chanyeol was crazy.

With a sigh, the CEO locked his phone and grunted softly, until he heard a familiar voice somewhere in the crowd of the lobby.

“Uhm, excuse me… can I speak with Mr. Park Chanyeol?”

“Do you have an appointment with him sir?”

“Uh, no… but—“

“Sir, you have to make an appointment with him before you can meet the CEO.”

“This is important, just tell him that a man named Baekhyun is here to see—“

“Sir, don’t be stubborn, we are just implementing the policy—“

“Joy, let him in.”

Baekhyun’s breathing hitched when a voice interrupted the lady. It was deep and husky, just like how he remembered it, although it sounded out of breath, he knew that it was him. Slowly, he pivoted in his heels, forgetting about the looks he was getting from the other employees. Baekhyun gnawed his lips at the sight of the CEO.

Chanyeol still looked handsome with his black suit, in contrast to the one he was wearing when they first met each other. It reminded him of the portrait he made the other night. But even the most detailed and realistic form of art wouldn’t be compared to the live one.

“Baekhyun…”

It was all Chanyeol could utter that moment. He thought that he was just imagining and hearing things when he thought he heard Baekhyun. Yet all of those second thoughts flew out of the window when his gaze was magnetized to the person talking to Joy.

Someone might mistake him as a lost man in the city. All people here were wearing corporate attire. And he was the only person who stood out in his old ripped jeans and trashy sneakers, brown backpack and yellow hoodie he remembered the man was wearing in the convenience store.

“H-Hi…” the man bit his lower lips and tore his gaze away. “Uh, can I ask for an appointment?” he uttered three seconds later, jerking a thumb back at Joy, chuckling in embarrassment. “Because it seems like she won’t let me talk to the CEO without one.”

Chanyeol’s lips stretched in a grin. “Well, what kind of appointment would you like?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. If anyone close to him right now was to see this, Sehun, for example, he’d observe how Chanyeol’s dull eyes sparked the moment he laid his eyes on Baekhyun. But neither of the two knew about that.

“A business one of course,” Baekhyun pursed his lips with a sheepish grin. “I’d like to consider the offer, Mr. Park.”

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Chanyeol literally dragged the shorter male into the elevator without a word. His hand was secured around Baekhyun’s wrists until the lift closed. “Thank heavens, Baekhyun you don’t know how much you save us for this next project,” huffed the CEO once alone with the other.

“But I do have a couple of things to ask in return,” Baekhyun crossed his arms and grinned at the taller male through their reflections. Chanyeol confidently squared his shoulder and put his hands in his front pockets.

“Name it, princess.”

Baekhyun’s grin dropped, facing the man. “Stop calling me that. And let’s discuss it in your office.”

“Aw, my sassy princess is back,” the CEO cooed and pressed the shorter’s chin in affection. Baekhyun swatted it away and scowled.

“I’m not a princess… and definitely not yours.”

Chanyeol chuckled and shrugged/ “I believe otherwise.”

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“So,” Chanyeol started, sitting on the couch in front of him, crossing his legs and resting his hands on top of his knee. “What are your conditions,Mr. Byun?” he asked. Baekhyun snorted as he read the contract in his hands. It was stated there that he had to work with Oh Sehun as his illustrator until the trilogy was finished. He turned the page and almost choked at the amount of salary per month. He closed it first before looking at the CEO, determinedly clearing his throat and taking out a paper from his hoodie’s pocket.

Chanyeol took it and unfolded the crumpled paper. “There’s only three, Mr. Park. It is stated there that in every pay day, you’ll cut a certain amount from my salary as an instalment for your ruined Armani. It’s up to you how much. Second—“ Baekhyun interrupted when Chanyeol was about to argue. “I wanted to work alone. I prefer it to be at home but surely that won’t do. But the only thing that I ask is that if I’m about to draw something, I don’t want disturbances.”

Chanyeol nodded with a smirk, sure, he could do that. “And what’s the last, princess?” The CEO didn’t bother reading it himself.

It was his turn to smirk. “While at work Mr. Park, you have to refrain from calling me, ‘princess’. It would cause misunderstanding to the other employees, sure you don’t want that right?”

Chanyeol abused his lower lip as he thought about it. Baekhyun watched him fish out a pen from his pocket. Right in front of him, Chanyeol signed the paper he made alongside with his signature.

Baekhyun fought the urge to grin as he borrowed the pen after, signing the contract and closing the deal between them. Upon putting down the pen, Chanyeol reached out his hand and said, “Welcome to Park Publishing, Mr. Byun Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun let out chuckle before shaking the CEO’s hands.

-beta-

5.6.16