I have so much time now that it's a little disorienting. So I write.

I'm very interested in making pieces more introspective, so I will be playing around with the form a little bit. Sorry if it doesn't make sense at any point.

May the forces of evil become confused on the way to your house. 

-George Carlin

The more Chanyeol knew about Mr. Byun Baekhyun, the more puzzled he became. 

He was only in his early twenties, a few months ahead of Chanyeol himself, but he had already established himself as one of the community leaders. Baekhyun co-founded a school targeted towards the inner city kids and minorities and taught music there himself, volunteered regularly at two food kitchens on the weekends, worked as a volunteer EMT, and was in school to become a therapist of some kind. He wasn't a wealthy guy; in fact, he lived in a rundown house in the inner city with a couple of friends, getting by on his self-reduced teacher's pay and some other job. Possibly a clerk at a corner store; Baekhyun got home late on the weekdays. Chanyeol knew this from watching: watching Baekhyun get into his car after teaching, disappear for hours, then reappear on the main street, headed towards the core of Highmont. 

Watching, my a . I'm stalking the poor mfer.

Which only made Chanyeol wonder more.

The first time Chanyeol spoke to his target was on a cold day a week and a half after receiving the strange commission.

Highmont City Academy ended at two forty-five in the afternoon every day to the blast of what sounded strangely like a foghorn. The elementary-level kids would pour out, first into the fenced-in courtyard and then out onto the sidewalks, walking or biking to wherever they lived in a flurry of jackets and scraped shoes. Chanyeol hung around across the street in an ice cream store run by a friendly old woman named Janice.

"I've never had cookies and cream ice cream before, actually," Chanyeol said, leaning over the counter to talk to Janice as she puttered around for a child's chocolate order.

Janice tsked. "You have not tasted heaven, clearly. It's my favorite." She handed a cone to the tiny boy standing next to Chanyeol, barely as tall as his leg. He skipped away to rejoin his friends. "Would you like some, honey?"

"Another time," he said, flashing one of his winning smiles and stepping away. "I have to meet someone."

"Of course. Come back anytime."

Teachers usually left at four, but Chanyeol knew--from stalking--that Baekhyun left early, having only music to teach. It was with no surprise that Chanyeol saw Baekhyun stepping out in an oversized winter coat and a messenger bag at exactly three-o-seven. He was arguing with someone on the phone.

"I said, we need someone to--yes, I know that we can't--just find someone to fill in for Mr. Patterson. His wife had a kid, and he's taking a leave. Just a week. For G-d's sake--" Baekhyun pulled his phone away from his ear, slammed on the screen, and shoved it deep into his pocket, muttering. 

Chanyeol chuckled to himself. Things were more convenient than he thought.

As Baekhyun stepped through the gate, Chanyeol moved closer. 

"Sorry for listening in--" he started.

Baekhyun looked up and promptly tripped over his own feet.

Chanyeol caught the shorter man's arm, gently pulling him back to his feet. "You alright?"

Baekhyun shook his head, somewhat dazed-looking. "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry. I don't know what's been going on with me lately." He gave Chanyeol a closer look. "I don't know you."

"Not a problem." Chanyeol stuck out his hand. "I'm Chanyeol. Park Chanyeol. I couldn't help overhearing your...ah, conversation."

Baekhyun took the handshake reluctantly. "I, uh, I'm Byun Baekhyun."

Chanyeol pretended that the name was new.

"You need a substitute?" he continued.

Baekhyun stuttered. "I--y-yes, we do, but I--ah. Oh. Uh, yeah."

Cute.

"I don't have much teaching experience, but if I could help out, I'd be willing to."

Baekhyun stared at him, almost in disbelief. "Really? Oh, that's great. No one wants to work in Highmont anymore, and it's so hard to just--" He took a deep breath and smiled for the first time. "That's such a relief."

Chanyeol smiled back. "Where do I sign up?"

The inside of the school was bright, the walls covered in children's drawings and optimistic posters. BE A SHINING STAR! TRY YOUR BEST! YOU'RE A CHAMP! Chanyeol took it all in, forming escape routes in his mind and noting the possible hiding places as he passed by. Baekhyun chattered on, giving Chanyeol a tour of the school in both its history and its layout.

"The teacher's lounge isn't the best of places but it's got a fridge and a coffee machine, so I guess that's enough. Keurig, too. Not something you see a whole lot around here." Baekhyun pointed at a closed wooden door on the left. "The kids have a star system, and if they get enough stars they get a cup of hot chocolate."

He stopped at the last room on the right. "This is Mr. Patterson's room. Since you don't have experience, we can't have you be the teacher, but we could get you in here as a teacher's assistant." Baekhyun gave his taller companion a sidelong look. "Do you have another job?"

"I do, but it's mostly just computer work. I don't really have to go in."

Baekhyun nodded, impressed. "You're not an inner city kid, huh?"

A thousand thoughts blasted through Chanyeol's mind, and he blinked them away before smiling politely. "I guess I'm not."

After some paperwork and a quick meeting with some teachers and the principal, Chanyeol was done.

"It's Friday, obviously, so you can just come in at eight on Monday," Baekhyun said, pushing through the front doors and holding one open for Chanyeol. "The sub should be here. I'm hoping Jen does her job right."

The names of insignificant people were swimming in Chanyeol's head, and he nodded, trying to let the new name settle in as well, building a spiderweb in his mind of people he could have trouble with.

Baekhyun stopped abruptly and spun on his heel to face Chanyeol. "Thanks so much again for stepping up," he said. 

Chanyeol laughed. "Of course. As long as I can help out."

He didn't miss the way Baekhyun's smile flickered.

Baekhyun's roommates were being annoying.

"F , Sehun, I told you to stop leaving the bathroom window open," Jongdae shouted from downstairs.

The culprit in question made a farting sound from his room.

Baekhyun groaned and slammed the door to his bedroom, the one he shared with the sweet and quiet Yixing, who was almost always out working absurd hours of the night. He was the only real successful one of the four college friends, already gaining some ground as a journalist. Yixing had always had big dreams, like going after the big stories in the Middle East or interviewing the President. He was always the one who wanted to know why. And he was the only one who was going anywhere.

With another frustrated groan, Baekhyun threw a pen across the room.

That guy he had met today, that Chanyeol. He looked like the kind of person who could just smile and get a million dollars. Maybe he already had a million dollars. He sure looked like it.

Baekhyun rubbed his temples. Some days, he wondered whether he was doing the right thing. 

On a good day, the angel voice inside him would say yes, you're bettering lives and giving people second chances and unlocking potential. It was the angel voice he believed in.

But it hadn't been a good day, and the angel voice was quiet. 

The bedroom door creaked open, and Yixing tiptoed in. Baekhyun turned in his chair, smile starting to cross his face, then froze.

His friend looked terrible, a bloody slash on his cheek and part of the sleeve on his button-down torn off. Yixing stopped in his spot, then grinned.

"I looked like crap, don't I?" he asked.

Baekhyun stood up slowly. "Oh, G-d, Lay," he said, using the foodie nickname Jongdae had come up with in college. "What happened to you?"

"Drunk guy. No biggie."

"No biggie my a -- you look half-dead. Come here." Baekhyun dragged the injured man to the bathroom, kicking out a startled Jongdae and pushing Yixing down onto the toilet seat cover as he fumbled around for bandages and Neosporin. "S . These are a year old."

Yixing took the tube of antibiotic from Baekhyun and uncapped. "They haven't expired." He dabbed a bit onto the cut, then stopped. "Baek, you're acting strange."

Baekhyun looked at Yixing. "Am I?"

The roommate shrugged. "I think so. You're kinda...wound up."

Baekhyun looked at his hand, as if there would be springs there. "I, uh, I don't know."

Yixing smiled gently. "You need to talk?"

A picture of the handsome, suave, and most likely filthy rich Chanyeol flashed in Baekhyun mind. He shook it off. "Maybe later. Thanks, man."

Jongdae peered in. "You done yet? I gotta shower."