4k

Not too long after that, they jolt up from the coach when they hear a police siren.

“.” Strangely, this is coming from Joohyun.

Yixing shots to her couch, kneeling to peek through the window. He glances at her for a second. Despite the situation, his face is full of amusement. “You curse?”

Not really. In fact, this is the first time she lets her filter loose without having to freak if someone might hear her. She usually said ‘’ but never more than a whisper. “Hell yes. Damn. .”

He chuckles. “Just when I thought you can’t be any more fascinating.”

Joohyun feels herself blushing. Damn. . Hell.

Together, they peek out of the window like two grounded children and longing to play outside. Joohyun tries to recognize the outside. Not because she wants to run away but for future reference. She mentally takes notes on the closest big building. It’s yellow. Right across. The sign reads EcoMart but the E, R and T lights are broken so it reads coMa.

“Are they out looking for you?” He leans close and whispers.

Joohyun watches as the two police cars strolling on the street. One of them is putting on the siren. “I don’t know.” Her parents won’t notice her missing this quick. They would probably notice after a week at best.

“I don’t think they are.”

“I don’t think they are too.” She watches as the police car disappearing to the end of the road.

He glances at her. “Why are we whispering?”

“I don’t know.” She whispers.

They swivel and slides on the couch, sitting side by side. Strangely again, Joohyun is the one who sighs in relief. Somehow, against all logic, she’s dreading to be found.

Missing is missing when someone wants to be found. Joohyun doesn’t want to be found. She wants to find.

“What are you going to do if they are looking for me?”

“Run. The adrenaline rush is the best at car chasing.”

Joohyun wants to feel that. “Are you going to bring me along?”

“Do you want to?”

She beams. “Of course.” Now, she wants the police to chase them. Together.

His face lights up too. “Why do you look so happy?”

Ting Ting Ting Ting. She wants to make the sound herself. She’s just so happy like that. “I want to feel the adrenaline.”

He stares at her with that penetrating gaze again and Joohyun knows she’s blushing—again. She avoids his gaze.

The outside goes silent. Inside all Joohyun can hear is her heart goes beep beep pause beep beep pause, at some point, going in chorus with the actual ting every ten seconds. It tings five times before Yixing whispers.

“Petal.”

Joohyun glances at him, just then she realizes how close they lean to each other that if she tilts her body more to the side, her head would be on his shoulder.

“Kidnapper.”

He’s staring upfront, seemingly deep in thought. “Do you want to go somewhere?”

“Where to?”

“A car ride.”

Joohyun feels her face cracks. Yes yes yes please! Like she has never been in a car ride. “Okay.”

He still doesn’t move so Joohyun doesn’t too.

“Petal.”

“Kidnapper.”

He glances at her and frowns. “Why are we still whispering?”

So, Bae Joohyun—the real Bae Joohyun—is apparently an adrenaline junkie.

“OH MY GODDDDDD!!”

She screams on the top of her lungs as Yixing swifts and whirls the car across the abandoned parking lot. The adrenaline . . . is addicting. He’s reckless with his wheel-handling and at first, Joohyun almost kicked him to be slower and careful and when she warned him, he did the complete opposite. And the complete opposite is what she craved for right after it’s over. Over time, with her heart still beats like a jackhammer, Joohyun finds herself laughing.

She is pretty sure he’s showing off when he squeezes the steering wheel again, flooring the gas and they are both press into the seat as the car charges ahead. Close to the barrier—the trees, he makes another sudden abrupt turn. She grabs the handle above her head, the brakes squeal. And they spin again. It’s like being on an extreme version of merry-go-round. Everything spins—and she screams through every moment of it. Her hair goes wild with the wind. She laughs so hard it hurts her ribs. Her side cramps, and tears blur her vision. She can’t remember the last time she’s laughed this hard. Wait—did she ever? Oh right. Never.

That is the time she realizes how thrilling this is she forgets that she is still in handcuffs.

And she doesn’t mind.

She might be bound to a pair of handcuffs, but she has never feels freer.

He presses the brake. Around them, the grey smoke pooling. As it clear, as clear as the dark night can be, he turns to her and asks between his intake of breath, “Again?”

Joohyun gasps for air and then she nods. “Again.”

“I have all these tattoos and bad boy thing going on but I went to the store and bought a strawberry milk. You should have seen the cashier face,” Yixing grumbles as soon as he enters the car with a plastic bag full of junk foods and the said strawberry milk.

“Ah, poor man. Why couldn’t I just get it myself, right?” Joohyun sighs sarcastically; hands rustling into the plastic bag, digging for her milk while exaggeratedly rattling her cuffs in an obvious display of why she couldn’t.

“Come, let me unclasp it.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” Joohyun stabs the straw into the hole of her milk as a subtle way to keep her wrists to herself. She doesn’t know why, but for one, it really doesn’t bother her much.

For two, she likes to think of it as an emblem. That this is what they are. And she likes it to stay that way . . . for now. Releasing the cuffs means they are friends.

And friend is cliché.

Kidnapper and hostage? Not so. Like how many people would say “Hey, this is my kidnapper” in the same tone they say “Hey, this is my friend”.

Pretty twisted, she knows.

Maybe the real Bae Joohyun is also a masochist.

They settled at one hill, overlooking the townscape. Joohyun insisted they should stay out here for a while. Yixing said it’s lame but at the same time, he also pulled off his jacket and laid it on the ground for her to sit. That’s not the only thoughtful thing he did. When he lit up a cigarette and blew out rings of smoke, Joohyun turned her head away and palmed her nose. He caught it and immediately threw the cigarette away and grinded the heel of his shoe on it. That was an hour ago and Joohyun’s stomach is still flipping.

She dares herself to stare at him. His skin is silky white. His features are soft, especially his lips. She wonders if he kisses, does he really kiss? Or he spits too? At this thought, she bites her bottom lip.

He’s hot in a very cliché way but not in her side of the world. In her side of the world, no one is tattooed. Her eyes falls to his arm where a script of foreign language running along the skin and disappears under the sleeve of his shirt. She has never been attracted to guys with tattoos. Now, she wonders how far the tattoos spread. His front body is clean, but how about his back?

Imagining it, she can feel herself keeling over. She can’t believe of all men, she’s having all these weird thoughts over her kidnapper. She wants to detest it so she starts to inspect his features more intently, maybe then she will find a flaw.

She can’t.

She loudly sighs.

“You want to go back?” He asks, taking her sigh as a sign of boredom.

“No.”

Next, he’s almost tentative as he asks, “Do you want to go home?”

She sighs again. “No.”

Joohyun waits for him to ask her why, instead he asks him a question as equally dreading. “What your life is like, Joohyun?”

She sighs louder.

“You’re a sigher, aren’t you?” He chuckles. “Cute.”

That little remark prompts Joohyun to peer at him. And then she blushes when she catches him still staring at her. Smirking. With a dimple.

She looks away. “Well, that’s my general counter about my life. Sigh.”

“Sigh,” he repeats. “That’s general. But somehow pretty summarizing.” He almost sounds like he’s talking to himself with the way his voice is fading.

She nods and silence fills the gap for a while. She watches as one of the building goes light-off. It reminds her that she has no knowledge of time and she figures it’s getting so late at night. She wonders if her parents are conscious about her absentee by now. She prays they won’t, because she doesn’t want to go back yet. 

“If I say something pathetic, can you promise not to laugh at me?”

“Sure. I’m not really a laugher, anyway.”

She hesitates for a while before taking a deep breath. “This,” she gestures a finger between them back and forth, “is actually the funnest thing ever happen to me.”

He looks stunned, his eyebrows are almost up to his hairline. “That says a lot.”

“Exactly.”

He leans backward, propping himself with his palms on the ground. He throws his legs forward and crosses his ankles, getting comfortable. “You couldn’t do something about it? About your life? Your happiness depends on you, you know, if you haven’t figure it out already. You know what makes you happy. Do it. You’re free the moment you do.”

“Easy for you to say. I’m trapped. I’m the only child. I have strict parents who don’t actually care but dictate everything. My dad is away a lot. My mom doesn’t care about what I do, as long as I look pretty doing it and—“ She stops talking when he starts to laugh.

“Bae Joohyun, you’re giving me excuses. You didn’t even sound like you’ve tried.”

That strikes a nerve. Joohyun looks away. Because . . . he’s right. She never tried. Why her parents have so much power over her? Easy, because she simply let them. She cares too much about the opinions of people who care too little about her. She can’t even do something as bad as talking with mouth full even when she’s not even in the same room with her mother. That is something she definitely needs to mull over later.

“And when you said your mother doesn’t care about what you do, just as long as you look pretty doing it?” He chuckles, and it sound so mocking. “That’s an easy pass for someone like you. Because then you might as well do anything.”

She blinks and turns to him. Was that a compliment? Feeling warmth all over, she mentally beats herself. This is what she hates—being the biggest stereotype ever : an uptight girl who flips over a bad boy words. She’s self-discovering tonight, and clichés are what she wants to avoid.

So she changes the topic. “Why did you kidnap me, Xing? Real talk.” See, she can be ballsy. There’s no one here and she’s still in handcuff. If she strikes his nerves, and knowing nothing about him or his temper, she’s basically at the right place for homicide. All Yixing has to do is kick her off the cliff.

He doesn’t look mad. He just looks like he’s taken off guard. He clears his throat. “I’m a . . . I was desperate. But I really just want a friend, I swear.”

“You can go to bars. People talk to anyone there.” Not like she knows anything, considering she never went to any, but books and movies give ideas on that.

He looks uncomfortable for a while. “If I say something pathetic, can you promise not to laugh at me?”

The conversation repeats.

“Sure. I’m not really a laugher, anyway.”

He takes a shaky breath, and after ruffling his hair in rough manner, he confesses, “I’m not doing well with crowds—room with multiple people in it. I can handle one person who doesn’t know me. Who I have to get to know. But to get one, I have to go through many first. So I . . .”

“So you skipped the procedure and . . .”

“And just . . . grabbed . . . anyone.”

Joohyun laughs. And it’s not because she finds out he—with all his bad boy things going on like he said—has vulnerability.

He scowls. “You laugh.”

“Wait, not because of what you think. But you said grabbed. I realize it’s actually a better term to describe this whole thing. You grabbed. You didn’t kidnap.”

His face falls, contorting into something close to . . . guilt. “Still not a good thing to do. I’m sorry.”

Joohyun nods. It is not a good thing to do. In fact that can be an understatement of the year. Kidnapping is illegal, wrong in so many ways. But as sick as it is, it’s how they met. It’s how she’s here now. Where the funnest thing is happening.

She smiles, trying not to sigh. See, she’s really a masochist. “Don’t worry about it.”

He grunts. “Ugh, you’re strange. Honestly, I’ve been waiting for you to kick me off the cliff because you should.”

And she thought he would.

When they get back to his place, she ends up using the bathroom after all . . . and it’s clean. Huh.

No problem so far, except one.

“Xing . . . I, um, I need to change.”

Yixing, who lies lazily on the couch, looks up from his phone. He looks at her confusedly, “Yeah, sure. You can just pick any of my clothes.” He’s back to his phone again. 

“But the handcuffs . . .”

He blinks at her and then grins mischievously, displaying his dimples. “Why Miss Bae? I thought it’s not a problem?”

Ah, now he’s playing bastard. “Come on, Mr . . . “ and now only she realizes that everything she knows about him is pretty much . . . nothing.

“Zhang,” he provides.

“Yeah. Okay. So, the handcuffs?” She shoves him her hands.

“I can help you to dress,” he grins some more.

Yixing is a pretty naughty boy, that much she knows from the moment he threatened to her lips. But still, not so much of a flaw. In fact, it’s more to the opposite. And that makes Joohyun wants to re-evaluate the real Bae Joohyun. That girl is too much of a contrast.

“Uncuff me just for five minutes.”

“It’s not even necessary anymore, you know that right?”

Ting.

He unlocks the cuffs anyway without much of an argument.

She re-cuffs herself not even five minutes after.

“Why do I think you’re enjoying this?” He asks teasingly as Joohyun walks around, dressing in his shirt and pants. The pants is big that she has to fold up the waistband three times. “That’s not a toy, Petal. . .” he pauses, blinking, “well, it is but . . . nevermind.”

Joohyun frowns. And then she shrugs. “Do I take the bed?”

“Do you mind sharing? It’s huge, you see.”

She loses an intake of breath. She knows he’s joking with the way he makes a visible effort to keep his face straight, which he actually fails, but Joohyun is struck. If by nature, she would freak out. But right now, she’s in the process of rediscovering. She wonders if—

“I’m just kidding. Have it. I just put on the new sheet.”

Thankfully Yixing focuses back on his phone that he doesn’t notice her stumbling a little backward, losing her footing. She feels dumb. She feels dumb that she was caught off guard. She feels dumb that she looks dumb. She feels dumb that she asks both Bae Joohyun on what they are going to do like, who does that? She feels dumb that she . . . that she actually doesn’t mind.

She walks slowly to the bed and when she lies on it, she’s mentally beating up herself again.

Okay, see. This whole experience is . . . for the lack of the word—strange as . It’s like she’s in a standstill instead of on the first stage of rediscovering. She’s confused most of the time. She doesn’t know who she is now—because Bae Joohyun that she’s familiar with would never trust easily but just now she feels too giving, like she’s opening too many doors at once.

She takes a deep breath. She’s thinking of something. Of theme park. If she can go to one, maybe she will react the same? She’s not familiar with anything there. But she bets it will excite her to the point of losing her mind—losing herself. And whatever it offers, she’ll take the chance at the risk of it being once in the lifetime.

She nods to herself. Yes. She’s not feeling like herself because this is unfamiliar. Yes, she wants to believe that. And it’s not at all because she’s easy and cheap and absolutely not because she trusts Yixing so quickly.

“That is the perfect comforter,” he points out as he walks to the switch. “Not too heavy, soft as , and warm. I bought it in flea market, can you believe it? For something with such quality.” He flicks the light off. She watches as his silhouette walks back to the couch. “Use it or I’m stealing it tonight. Goodnight, Petal.” He lies down and rolls to the side, backfacing her. 

Joohyun blinks at the ceiling and contemplating again.

But is it too dumb if she trusts Yixing too soon?

This whole thing is more to strange (again, for the lack of the word) than dangerous. Yixing had too many of opportunities, yet he didn’t take any. Despite his status and the fact that she knows so little about him, even if she feels a little dumb, there’s one other feeling that she can’t dispute.

She feels safe.

When she wakes up the next day, she’s alone.

On the table is a key, a phone and a note.

I’m out to buy breakfast.

That’s the only thing he said, without any instruction. But Joohyun knows it’s the key to her handcuffs. And a phone as a lifeline.

Two things to indicate she’s free to run if she wants.

Two things to indicate trust. He gave her reason to trust him. And he trusts her, not taking the first chance to report him.

Two things to confirm what she felt last night.

She’s totally safe here.

So for that, she stays.

And she doesn’t feel dumb at all.

“You can’t keep eating that, Xing,” she nags as he pours out his second bowl of cereals. “Do you know how much sugar in that?”

It’s only the second day. But the familiarity is building, so fast it’s beyond her. However strange the foundation is. She thinks she likes it this way. It’s unexpected. It’s not cliché.

Yixing chuckles. “You’re like little Socrates. Should I take note everytime you talk?”

“That was hardly even words of wisdom.”

“But Joohyun, no offence to your favorite food, but salad is for lunch. You need protein and carbs to start the day.”

Ting.

“Shut up. You’re just a microwave,” she drawls boringly to the direction of the cupboard where she knows the microwave is.

“For a microwave, it does know what’s healthy and what’s not.”

They continue their breakfast in silence, ignoring the following tings. Having nothing to talk or focus on, Joohyun stares at their foods.

On the same table are two foods from the opposite side of the food pyramid.

Just like how they both are. Two people from the opposite side of the world. Two different people with nothing in common. The only thing they probably have in common is the fact that they don’t have home.

But quoting Socrates, to move the world, we must move ourselves first. In that sense, Yixing is far ahead of her. They are both lost, but she stays and he wanders.

Staying is safe, but staying also means she doesn’t make a move to find. Wandering will do that instead.

Wow, she thinks. She really is a mini Socrates.

Ting.

She steals a glance at the man opposite of her. He’s a passionate eater with the way he devours his cereals, like it’s the first time he ate it. She chews on her lip, thinking of making a conversation. She wants to pry on who he is in details but she’s not sure if it’s too invading. So she asks, “When did you first start running, Xing?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Few months after I was stable enough to walk, according to my nanny.”

Joohyun sighs. Wrong answer, but she likes that little information. He had a nanny—first clue of what his life was like. “No. I mean—“

“Ahh, you mean when did I start to become the lost man on the run?” He laughs and wipes the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “For almost a year? I’m technically still a grad student. They haven’t drop me out yet.”

“Why?”

“Maybe because my dad funds the university?” He chuckles and shrugs.

Still a wrong answer. When she asked why, she meant why did he run. But again, she gets another clue. Damn, is this why he can fund himself while running without a job? He doesn’t seem like he’s desperate on money at all. Heck, if he does, her parents would be notified by now.

She distractedly stacks up the cucumber slices to the side with her fork, trying to look nonchalant. “So, a year of not working? Just running?”

“I work.” He puts aside his bowl and gives her his full attention. “I strip.”

Good thing she doesn’t eat cereal or else she will spray milk all over his table. “Y-you what?”

“I'm a stripper. I worked in a company before. But that was boring so to rebel, I stripped.” He shrugs with a playful glint in his eyes. Joohyun doesn’t know if he’s joking or not. “It’s a good money and I love dancing. And my body is not that bad.”

She almost nods to the last line. But she’s still gaping.

He holds her eyes for two seconds before he laughs. “Just kidding. You’re a fun friend, Petal. You should see your face.” He laughs some more and excuses himself to the bathroom.

Joohyun sighs and stabs on her stack of cucumber. Damn, that’s a shame. And then she jerks up. Did she really think that?

She blinks. Wait, forget it. She just realized he didn’t answer her question. Yixing is still in the bathroom so she takes the phone.

She knows this is invading. But Yixing invaded her too—her personal space. She has the right to know who she’s dealing with even though she does feel safe here. Precaution is a must. After all, she’s still in handcuffs.

She googles his name and thousands of result comes out. What she expects are cases of kidnapping and police reports. What she finds is something close. But total opposite.

He’s a heir to this Chinese-Korea company, worth billions. She doesn’t read that on Wikipedia. She reads that on a headline. The said heir is missing. Running is what—who she assumes as his father—said and asked the public to get in contact if Yixing made an appearance.

She stares at a photo of him in black suit plastered on the top of the page, looking like a good but stiff looking boy. Like her when she's forced to attend some business functions. She wonders is this why he doesn’t like crowds? Because he doesn’t want to be found?

She clears the browsing history and puts away the phone. She’s walking to the couch when he’s walking in, looking casually at ease.

She stares at him and she sees it. His life was pretty much hers, the male edition. He just has the guts to take off and flee. He knows exactly what he was saying last night.

You know what makes you happy. Do it. You’re free the moment you do.

But Joohyun begs to disagree. He’s not free. He avoids crowds. Crowds who will send him back for a price of a million. If she takes off, that’s not what she wants to feel either. The feel to always check her behind. If she wants to flee, she’s not going to look behind anymore.

(She keeps the opinion to herself.)

“You removed your handcuffs.”

“I did.”

“Good. Now, punch me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“To make us even. I did grab you by your neck before I made you pass out yesterday.”

“A punch would not make it even.”

“Then, how?”

“. . . Xing, you can’t lay out all your ideas out there. Sometimes, to get what we want, our plan has to be underhanded.”

“. . . Damn, you’re Slycrates. I’m scared. I don’t even know what that means.”

Good.

thanks for reading. and merry xmas in advance!