I feel like it’s not the type of relationship I want. Or, he’s not the type of person I want to be with.
    Yixing sent the text with a deep breath leaving his mouth, turning on his back in bed. He was hoping that Yifan didn’t mind him texting so late, but it was almost impossible for Yixing to get Luhan to leave his apartment. The elder’s complaint was that his cats didn’t keep him enough company, and that Minseok was still working. Yixing practically had to force the elder out. He let his phone fall onto his stomach, the screen on the dimmest light setting, yet it still managed to brighten his dark bedroom. He almost jumped when it vibrated against his ribs, his hand flying down to bring the screen to his face.
    That’s okay to think. It’s good that you know he isn’t the one for you. You’re not too far into the relationship. You don’t live together, right?
    Yixing felt a wave of relief when he read Yifan’s response. It seemed like the elder man had a knack for calming him down.
    Yixing: We don’t.
    Yifan: That’s good. Call it off when you feel like it’s right. You don’t need to rush anything.
    Yixing was about to reply with his thanks, but another message popped up on the screen.
    Yifan: Are you free tomorrow?
    Yixing: My classes are from 8 to 12, but I’m free after that.
    Yifan: If you want, we can hang out. You can get your mind off Zhixiang for awhile? I feel like you’re stressed about this.
    Every ounce of blood flooded into Yixing’s cheeks, and he bit down on his lip as he slowly replied, as he didn’t want to see too desperate in his response.
    That sounds nice.
    Yixing finally let himself release a squeal as Yifan asked what time, what place, and what type of food Yixing liked the most.

***
    It wasn’t a date. Yixing had to mentally punch himself when his first thought in the morning was that he was going out with Yifan. They were just hanging out, it wasn’t anything more than that. A little tinge of worry struck Yixing as he glanced at his watch, the elder had told him to meet at the dumpling restaurant at twelve-thirty, and it was getting close to the time where Yifan was running drastically late. Every bone in Yixing’s body was screaming that the taller man was blowing him off, and that he was telling Zhixiang about everything the younger had spilled to him. But, no, that couldn’t be right. That was just Yixing’s nerves getting the best of him. The dumpling shop had a few customers, the man who Yixing assumed was the owner was sweeping around the entrance. Yixing cleared his throat as he checked the time once again, taking advantage of his seat by the door to question the owner. “Yifan works here, right?” he asked the man with the broom, who looked up at him immediately.
    “He does, why do you ask?” the man replied, leaning his chin on the tip of the broom.
    “I was, uh, just wondering. Is he late a lot?”
    “Never. He’s early every day, even when he’s working his other job.”
    Yixing nodded his head and looked his phone. No messages from Yifan, but one from Zhixiang. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted.
    Are you okay?
    He was fine. He was just ticked that Yifan didn’t keep his promise.
    Yixing responded: Yes, why do you ask?
    I tried to call you this morning and you didn’t pick up.
    . Yixing hadn’t even noticed. He was too interested in getting himself ready for what he knew wasn’t a date. Now he just felt bad.
    I’m sorry! I was asleep. I didn’t mean to worry you.
    He bit the side of his cheek. Lying to Zhixiang. Again.
    It’s okay baby. I might not see you today because our interview is running really late. I just wanted to check up on you.
    Interview. Yifan was supposed to interview Zhixiang, and he still hadn’t gotten the chance. That was the reason Yifan was late. He switched his messages, clicking on Yifan’s name and typing quickly.
    You’re not blowing me off right? I’ll wait, if you’re stuck in work still. I’m not doing anything else today.
    He tucked his phone into his pocket and stood up, heading inside the quaint dumpling shop. It was like any hole-in-the-wall restaurant, the owner was standing behind a small counter with his eyes on the tiny, ancient TV sitting on a shelf mounted to the wall. “Do you want to order?” he asked, eyes flicking towards Yixing.
    Yixing shook his head and sat at one of the small tables. “Can I wait inside for Yifan? He told me to meet him here.”
    “Yeah, sure. Friends with him?”
    “Yeah,” he nodded slowly, “Um, I’m Yixing.”
    “Oh! You were here last week, right?” the man smiled like a cat, “I’m Jongdae. I guess I’m Yifan’s boss.”
    “It’s nice to meet you,” Yixing smiled. The silence fell comfortable after that, Jongdae turning back to watch the soccer match on the television. It was like everyone Yixing knew liked soccer, as Luhan and Minseok both obsessed over a certain team, and now this Jongdae guy was apparently interested too. Zhixiang didn’t care for any sports (other than dance), and he had never asked Yifan his preference. If he remembered right, though, he thought Yifan liked basketball.
    Yifan.
    God, he was always thinking of Yifan.

***
    “Yixing, oh my God! I’m so sorry!” Yifan exclaimed as he walked into the tiny shop, making Yixing jump up. He had fallen asleep with his head cradled in his arms against the tabletop, and his reaction earned a laugh from Jongdae. It took Yixing a bit to actually locate Yifan with his drowsy eyes. The elder was in a plain black suit, a pair of orange tinted glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. His camera bag was slung over his chest, resting at his side. “Oh! Yifan,” he smiled lazily, standing up.
    “I finally got to interview Zhixiang, I had to stay behind, I’m so sorry for being late. When you didn’t reply to my text, I thought you went home.”
    “Well, I’m here,” Yixing simply replied, liking how frazzled the taller man was. He liked that even though Yifan was trying hard to keep this cool aura, it all broke down rather easily. Zhixiang never left his “cool” persona.
    “Do you still want to hang out?” Yifan asked as Yixing pushed in the chair.
    Somehow, it felt crazy to him. He nodded his head, “Yeah, early dinner or something?”
    “Sounds good. We can talk over a meal.”

    Sitting across from Yifan, somehow, didn’t feel like a date. Every ounce of anxiety left Yixing when Yifan left his suit jacket and camera in his car (which was not as expensive as Yixing thought it would be, it was probably a few years old, but it wasn’t anything extraordinary like Zhixiang’s). Every gram of anxiety was gone when Yifan brought him to a cheaper restaurant that held the same charm of the dumpling shop, and Yifan ordering a burger and fries, somehow, eased Yixing even more than he thought possible. Yifan was so… welcoming? Yixing couldn’t shake the thought as he watched the elder begin to speak. “How have your classes been?”
    “I love them. I never thought I could pull off being a teacher. I wasn’t really the best student myself.”
    “I’m sure you were good in your own dance classes, though?”
    “I guess whatever your passion is, is what you’re going to be good in. I wouldn’t expect someone who wants to be an author to be very good in something like chemistry.”
    “I was really good in math. But now I’m a journalist,” Yifan shrugged.
    “I guess you’re an anomaly then,” Yixing teased. He leaned away from the table as the waiter put their plates down, his sandwich looking a little wimpy in comparison to any restaurant Zhixiang had brought him to, but he didn’t mind. “Did you always want to go into journalism?” Yixing asked between a few bites, making sure to swallow everything down before speaking, to save himself of embarrassment.
    “I wanted to play basketball. I was the team captain, too, so it was actually really promising.”
    “You said you got an injury, right?”
    Yifan nodded his head. “The coach was really disappointed too. He still wanted me around, and he thought maybe I could tag along during the games. That’s when I ended up taking pictures for the yearbook and school newspaper. I was hooked into journalism ever since.”
    The younger smiled and nodded, then he felt like a rock was dropped into his stomach. He had never asked Zhixiang why he went into fashion design. He didn’t know what Zhixiang was interested in when he was in high school. Then his train of thought took him elsewhere. Yixing was only five years old when Zhixiang graduated. Now that was a little disturbing, and he had never thought of it before. But, no, that didn’t matter. He was twenty-five, Zhixiang was thirty-seven, it was fine. It was.
    “Were you always interested in dance?” Yifan asked, startling Yixing and making his Sprite tip out of his glass a bit.
    “I was more into making music when I was younger, but yeah,” he started, placing cup down and wiping up the table, “My mom said I saw Michael Jackson dancing on TV and immediately started dancing along,” Yixing chuckled, discarding the damp napkin to play with the straw in his drink. He stared at the transparent liquid for a while, watching the carbonation bubbles pop as the straw came in contact with them. He glanced up at Yifan, who was silently eating. “I was offered a placement in a Korean entertainment company, as a choreographer. They had seen my stuff online and really liked me.”
    “That’s sounds awesome. Was this recently? Did you accept?” Yifan asked, his focus drifting from his plate and to Yixing instead.
    “It was two years ago,” he replied quietly, “I didn’t take the offer because I was too interested in Zhixiang. We weren’t dating yet but all my friends insisted he was going to ask me out soon. So I stayed in China, and he did ask.”
    “I see,” Yifan hummed, resting his chin on his palm, “So… you regret not going?”
    Yixing agreed, staying quiet. He looked at Yifan at that moment, finding the elder’s eyes already on him. “I always think I was really stupid back then. My mom always said that I’ll know what I want and who I want when it comes to me. I guess I really thought I could make a life with Zhixiang.”
    “It’s okay, Yixing,” Yifan sighed, patting Yixing’s hand that sat on the tabletop, “Practically everyone goes through something like this.”
    Yixing felt his heartbeat quicken at the contact, but he chose to ignore it. When the waiter approached with the bill, Yixing immediately spoke up, “I can pay for mine.”
    Yifan shrugged his shoulders. “If you insist on it, I guess.”
    Yixing almost dropped his wallet when Yifan said that. He hadn’t been able to pay for his own meal in such a long time, that it felt weird to pull those bills out of the old leather pouch.

***

    The sun was still beating down, high in the sky, by the time they left the restaurant and got to Yifan’s car. The engine roaring to life made Yixing think of his own junk car, and he settled back into the seat, thankful it was not uncomfortable leather like Zhixiang’s. “You haven’t broken up with him yet, have you?” Yifan asked, but it sounded more like he was stating a fact.
    “I don’t know how. I don’t want to upset him.”
    “Well, that’s inevitable. You’re both going to be upset afterwards.”
    “Right…”
    “I’ve never broken up with someone, but I’ve been dumped a lot. Don’t do it over text or call. Do it in person.”
    Nodding, Yixing played with the loose thread on his shirt. He didn’t know why he asked the question that came from his mouth, but he did have a pretty good idea: “When was your last relationship?”
    “A year ago, I think? I don’t remember. He was a jerk anyway.”
    That pronoun made Yixing’s heart light up. Luhan was right. “And he broke up with you?”
    “Yeah. Well, this one was pretty mutual, actually. He, uh, cheated on me? So when I approached him about it, he had to be a and act like he never liked me in the first place.”
    “Oh, I’m sorry.”
    “You don’t need to apologize,” Yifan chuckled. Then he clicked his tongue and threw a glance at the shorter man, “I guess you’re really just too sweet of a person.”