Wednesday

Choa relaxes in her position again, rolling her eyes at her hopeless friend who seemed to have trouble navigating the record button on her camera set-up. Just five minutes prior, Chanyeol had managed to almost knock the camera from its position on the tripod - there'd been a moment in which her life seemed to flash before her eyes while it wobbled, stabilized, and Chanyeol backed away slowly.

Admittedly, he wasn't her first choice of help; usually no one asked Chanyeol for help to do with technology or anything breakable. Chanyeol was clumsy (when you first met him, it was quite charming and less of an impertinence) and she didn't want him anywhere near her baby.

Cameras were precious to her - something Chanyeol understood but his own body betrayed any of the carefulness he promised.

Still, the rest of their friends were busy either working or attending classes and she had to record on Wednesday in order to edit Thursday and upload Friday. She wouldn't let Junmyeon's absence - Junmyeon usually helped her with everything but apparently he had more important matters to attend to these days - ruin the usual schedule.

She takes a breath, telling herself that she could be patient with him, before smiling a tight-lipped smile. "Yes, Chanyeol. You press the record button."

He senses her forced pleasantries and frowns at her. "Hey! It's hard, okay? All the buttons look the same to me."

Choa struggled to picture exactly how the power button looked anything like the red record button, but she just rolled her eyes and waved him away. "Sure, whatever. Are you ready now?"

Chanyeol looks excited for a moment, nodding before counting down on three fingers and the telltale beep told her it had started recording.

"Hello and happy Friday!" She cheered into the camera, waving with both hands before settling back into her chair.

This was the best part of her Wednesday afternoons, after classes were done with, settling down with Junmyeon and talking about whatever topic she could find. This week's agender was admittedly less exciting - she would never admit it, but that was simply because Junmyeon wasn't there to come up with the big ideas.

"You look lovely, I'm sure you know the drill by now," she rolls her eyes. "Anyway, today I thought I'd answer a question that seems to pop up everywhere. 'Choa, where do you get all this confidence?' A lot of people ask me how I can sit here in front of the camera so easily and, well, I can't."

The topic was one of unease, for her. Choa had never expected that she'd have a question that was asked by 'a lot' of people and have the 'a lot' be a sore under exaggeration.

A lot of people knew her, that much was true - a lot being more like hundreds of thousands of people.

The first video she posted was a skit she and Junmyeon had come up with, though it was only her featured in the video. Social media was a blessing as well as a curse, which was what she found out after Junmyeon had posted it onto his blog.

It seemed to happen overnight; she went to sleep, laughing at the '15 views' it had garnered over twelve hours and woke up to be met with 80,000. Junmyeon said it was because she had that certain charm. She disagreed. 

This wasn't what she was made for, Choa knew that. But she had fun doing it and seeing her 'following' support her day in and day out. She felt obliged to continue and, more often than not, it was the highlight of her week.

"I hate to be a downer, but I actually find it quite difficult. You guys won't see all the editing and stuff, but if you did, you'd see the mess that is the majority of these videos." She pauses to throw a cheeky smile at the camera, "Confidence is all about being you. And you'd be surprised how easy being you is when you're alone or you have your very own Junmyeon sitting behind the camera."

She remembers vaguely, and with a frown, that Junmyeon isn't even there - but the frown is gone as soon as it came, replaced with her mega-watt smile and effortless charm that she seemed to acquire in front of the camera. She lied. Confidence wasn't about being you at all; it was all about pretending.

And pretend, she did, for the rest of the video.

"I can't believe that you actually came out," says Chanyeol, shaking his head in disbelief as they sway with the movements of the bus. He looked tidy, for once, dressed in his button-down baby blue shirt and ripped black jeans. The rips were minimal - and for someone like Chanyeol, that was tidy.

"Well," she murmurs, "it is Baekhyun's birthday. And you know how much he likes to remind us all about it."

"Right," he agrees. "You'd never -"

He's cut off as the pair of them lurch forward in the carriage, grasping onto each other before holding onto the poles that they had neglected to hold onto. It was rush hour; there was no way on Earth that they'd ever have gotten a seat. Choa didn't mind standing, necessarily, but when Chanyeol was there to fall into her with his freakishly long body it wasn't as much of a good experience.

"You'd never hear the last of it," he finishes. "I'm glad you're coming. It's good for you to get away from the glitz and glamour or whatever you're trying to pass it off as."

Choa hums distractedly. "And Junmyeon said something about me meeting his friend."

"Who?"

She pauses, never one for names. Junmyeon had spent a long time talking about the guy, and she almost felt bad for not being as attentive as she could have been to her best friend. And then she remembers he stood her up. Yes, she decides, almost felt bad.

"Yix - Yixing, that's it!" She grins, snapping her fingers and feeling generally pleased with herself. "He transferred last year I think, from China."

Chanyeol looks like he's fighting back laughter. "I know him, Choa. We all know him. Think you're the last, actually, which is weird. We jam together."

She snorts. "Is that slang?"

"My band."

She rolls her eyes as the bus comes to a stop, weaving her way through the narrow walkspace, thanking the driver, before stepping out into the cool spring air. She sticks her hands in her jacket pockets, pleased that she'd made the decision to bring a jacket. It was that annoying time of year, with the temperature stuck in limbo between warm and cold. It was too unpredictable, for Choa's liking.

Chanyeol hops off of the bus and she rolls her eyes again, turning on her heel and walking briskly. Chanyeol was the one who actually knew where they were going, and she hoped he'd catch up before she took a wrong turn and embarrassed herself.

To her luck, he did, jogging until he fell in step beside her. "So, why'd Junmyeon want you to meet Yixing?"

"Something about a collab," she mutters. "He's in the business or something."

Chanyeol smirks. "The business as in he's another loser who talks to a camera."

At that exact moment, Chanyeol trips over a loose paving slab. 

She doesn't stop to see if he's okay; the cracks in the pavement occupy her thoughts as she attempts to dodge over them. She didn't want to end up like Chanyeol, who was now behind her about broken ankles and delicate bones.

"You don't take it seriously, Choa - and I respect that, don't get me wrong. But everyone knows about my condition -"

At this she pauses, quirks a brow and repeats, "Your condition?"

They've paused in step outside Baekhyun's favourite spot, a shady cafe hidden much too far from Choa's home. The place in itself was rather shabby; the paint around the windows had chipped off, the bell on the door chiming dully and Choa wasn't certain she'd ever heard it ring out loud and clear. It's interior wasn't much better, small in size and cramped. But she supposed that's what appealed the 'gang' to it. After all, it was inside that very cafe that friendships had both been made and lost, a sense of nostalgia seeming to wash over you to moment you took the first step inside.

Choa's glad for the heat, sighing happily and taking her hands from her pockets, holding them outstretched and reaching towards to warm air from the fireplace. A grin splits Chanyeol’s face in half as he turns and waves animatedly towards the right. Upon turning, she sees the usual six friends as well as a few additional, unfamiliar faces.

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