“Mr. Kim—just let him finish his IV therapy and then he can be discharged,” He flips another page, “Ms. Choi needs an ECG. I need the report as soon as possible, okay?” He stops in front of a door, hands the clipboard back to Xiumin and pushes the door open.

He sighs as he collapses on the sofa, closing his eyes. “Yixing,” His eyelids roll back, and he immediately straightens up. “Hi, hyung.” He answers, rubbing his eyes.

“What are you still doing here? How long have you been on?” Lu Han asks as he leans on the wall, placing his hands inside his white coat.

Yixing stand up and walks to the corner to get a mug. “Uhm. Twenty two? Twenty three?” He says as he pours hot water on the instant coffee mix inside his mug. He gets a teaspoon and mixes it, and then he faces Lu Han.

“Twenty three?” Lu Han asks, stunned. “Yixing, you need to go home.” He said, clearly worried.

Yixing takes a sip from his mug and puts it down. “Thanks, hyung. But going home won’t get me an attending slot.” He says and pats the older one’s shoulder. He puts his hands inside the pockets of his scrubs and heads out.

“Room 501, doctor,” Xiumin hands him a folder. “Thanks,” Yixing takes it and heads towards the elevator. The doors open and he finds Sehun inside. He sighs as he hops in and presses “5” on the elevator buttons.

“Hey, I took care of Trauma Two while you were sleeping,” Sehun says.

“I wasn’t sleeping, I was—“

“You’re welcome,” The elevator door opens and Sehun gets off. Yixing sighs again and roll his eyes. He hops off the elevator as soon as he reached the fifth floor. He passes by the nurse’s station. “Hey, have you seen Kyungsoo?”

“I’m here! Sorry,” Kyungsoo runs beside Yixing. “Okay then,” He hands Kyungsoo the folder and heads towards room 501. He enters with a smile. “Hello, Ms. Park, I’m Dr. Zhang.” He turns towards Kyungsoo. “We’re gonna need a CBC and a UA.”

“Yes, doctor.” Kyungsoo answers.

“So are you feeling today?” He asks, checking on the patient’s condition.

“I’m great. Better than ever.” Sunyoung smiles.

“Okay, I’ll see you later.” Yixing smiles and exits the room.

“Dr. Zhang,” Someone calls out. Yixing turns around.He smiles and walks toward the man who called him. “Leeteuk sunbae.” He bows.

“I was uhm. I was going to tell you tomorrow, but since you’re already here..” Yixing nodded, uneasy. “I have decided, and I want you to stay—as an attending physician.”

Yixing smiles. All the exhaustion he had been feeling earlier seemed to have gone away. He literally threw himself to Leeteuk. “Thank you so much, sunbae,” Yixing hugs.

Leeteuk smiles as he pats Yixing’s shoulder. “You’ve earned it,” Yixing pulls away. “Thank you,” He says again. “I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity, there’s so much I want to do here and I can’t wait to get started.” Yixing bows and turns around.

“Uhm, Yixing?” Yixing turns around. “Yes, doctor?”

“The only thing I want you to do right now is go home, and get some sleep.” Leeteuk says.

“But, sunbae—“

“Go,” Leeteuk repeats. “You’ve been here for twenty six hours already.”

Yixing furrows his eyebrows—confused. How did he know? “I know everything.” Leeteuk answers as if he read Yixing’s mind. He then smiled and turned around to leave.

----------

“Baekhyun-ah,” Yixing smiles as soon as he hears Baekhyun’s voice.

“Hyung,” Baekhyun answers. “Yah, you’re not allowed to miss this date, you hear me?”

Yixing chuckles. “I know, I’m actually on my way there now. Though I might be a little late, I had to attend to something before leaving.”

“Thank goodness. I thought you were going to miss this one—again. And no, it’s okay. Your date’s late too.”

“I won’t,” Yixing assures. “By the way, Baekhyun-ah. I have good news.” Yixing grinned. “I got the attendance position!”

“WOW!” Baekhyun exclaimed from the other line. “Really? Congratulations, hyung! I’m so proud of you!”

“Yup,” Yixing answers proudly. “I’m staying in Korea.” He smiled contentedly. “Well then, I’m hanging up now, okay? I’ll see you later.”

“Neh, enjoy your date!”

Yixing smiles as he put down he phone. He removed one hand from the steering wheel to raise the volume of the radio, but soon as he lifted his head, his smile disappeared. He sees a truck heading his way—it’s light so bright that it blinds him. He gasps, his eyes widen, and he tries to move—but he couldn’t.

----------

Kris sighs as he stands on the rooftop. He stares at the view in front of him—Seoul’s bright lights, a few cars going back and forth, some groups of people walking around, probably to drink or go to the karaoke. He rubs his arms. “It’s getting cold, I should go back now,” He whispers to himself before going downstairs—back to his apartment.

He went straight into his room to get ready for bed. He changes his clothes (throwing the used ones somewhere, he doesn’t really care) and climbs onto his bed. He lays down for a few minutes, staring blankly into the ceiling—but he wasn’t falling asleep.

“I need a beer,” He groans and stands up, heading towards the kitchen. He opens the refrigerator and takes a can of beer.

He walks back to his room, opening the can of beer when suddenly, a man was infront of him.

“AHH!” Kris shouts (in a very manly way). The guy infront of him shouts too. The beer started to spill on the floor and Kris frantically looks around. “Wha—what’s going on here?!”

“There’s nothing worth stealing here!” The guy infront of him exclaims.

“What?” Kris asks, confused—not minding the beer flowing from the can, onto his hands, onto the floor.

“There’s no money, I don’t have jewelry, I don’t have anything expensive in here,” The guy explains.

“I’m not stealing anything!” Kris defends.

“Uhm,” The guy looks around. “I’m sure we can find a shelter for you. I will give you money for cab fare and a good meal, just—“ He looks around again and sees the cans of beer on top of his table “—don’t spend it on more beer, okay?”

Kris furrows his eyebrow and shakes his head. “Okay, there must be some kind of mistake,” He says and points to himself. “I am not homeless. I live here.”

“No no no no no,” The guy shakes his head. “You can’t live here, because I live here. This is my apartment.”

Kris’ eyes  widen. “Since when?”

The guy sighs. “Since I rented it, of course.”

“You rented it?” Kris stares at him in disbelief.

“Yes,” The guy answers.

Kris stares at him. He didn’t look like he was a thief—in fact he looked kind of rich. He was properly dressed, his skin was fair and white, his hair was neat.

Kris laughs and turns around, placing his hands on his hips. “I don’t believe this,” He says in English.

“I’m sorry?” The guy asks, clearly not following what Kris was saying.

“This is all a scam, isn’t it?” Kris asks, running his fingers through his hair. “What, how many are we in here?”

The guy furrows his eyebrows. “Huh?”

“There’s probably like three or more people other than us who moved in here,” Kris explains. “You know, paid the deposit and got the key.”

“And moved in all of their stuff here?”

“..what?”

The guy sighs—again. “This is my stuff. Everything. This is my couch,” He says, pointing to the orange couch which Kris had adored ever since he entered the apartment. “That’s my table—“ His eyes widen, seeing how messy everything was. “Have you ever heard of a trash can? Why is everything so messed up in here?”

“Wh—“

“Look, I don’t care who you are, you’re going to clean everything,” He says and points to the pool of beer on the floor. “And you’re going to mop that up. I’m getting a bucket.” He says and walks towards the kitchen. The guy continued to say something—which Kris didn’t much understand, because he was still confused—as he went inside the kitchen.

“What?” Kris finally blurts out. He drops the can of beer on the table and trails behind the guy. “You moved in when?”

He was completely silenced as soon as he saw that no one was in the kitchen. He looks around—no one. “Uhm.. hi?” He goes outside his apartment, to the hallway—still, no one. “Hello?”

That night, Kris made sure to secure his apartment. He added more locks to his door, he checked the windows, and as soon as he was sure that no one could enter the place—he decided to take a bath and sleep.

----------

“Okay, so what is this about?” Chanyeol asks through the phone.

“Huh? Nothing. No reason,” Kris answers as he plops himself on the sofa.

“Uh-huh,” Chanyeol answers, clearly not believing Kris. “So you called me for no reason?”

Kris thought for a while. “I uh.. I’ve been sort of seeing someone.” He admits.

Chanyeol’s voice immediately changes—into something from not amused at all, to excited. “Really? That’s great, man! Now that’s what I’m talking about!”

“What, you think that’s a good thing?” Kris asks as he shifts into a more comfortable position.

“Of course!” Chanyeol answers. “Finally, man.” Chanyeol chuckled. “You know, the last time I set you up on a date, you bailed out. This is great—and the fact that you’re the one who’s initiating it—Okay, who is she, do I know her?”

Kris sighed. “I meant I’m seeing someone who’s not there.”

"..Emotionally unavailable?” Chanyeols asks.

“No,” Kris answers, rolling his eyes.

Silence.

Chanyeol kept quiet for a while—about ten or fifteen seconds. “Oh,” he finally says. “Like a hallucination..?”

Kris nods—even though he knew Chanyeol couldn’t really see it. “Twice. Here, in my apartment.” He explains.

“Huh,” Chanyeol says, as if thinking about something. “Hold on, were you drunk when you saw this person?”

“You could say that..” Kris mumbles.

“Kris, don’t lie to me, man. I’m trying to help you out here.”

“Okay, I was wasted. Happy?” Kris answers as he throws his head backwards and closes his eyes. “Maybe I should stop drinking.”

“What? No!” Chanyeol protested. “What you should do though, is stop drinking by yourself. The world’s full of people, Kris. Live life to the fullest! Stop swimming around in your own mind, for goodness’ sake.” Chanyeol sighs. “Come on, man. It’s been two years. Stop being wasted.” He said, as if almost pleading.

Kris sighs. “Okay,”

----------

For the past three days, Kris had been avoiding beer. He was able to watch TV without someone nagging about how messy everything was, he was able to take a bath without someone asking him to leave. And so far, his ‘hallucinations’ were also non-existent.

“Peace and quiet last,” Kris mutters as he throws himself on the bed and buries himself under the soft, warm blankets. He closes his eyes and starts to drift off to sleep.

“ARE YOU INSANE?!” Kris’ eyes shoot open. “What. Are. You. Doing.”

So much for peace and quiet.

“Okay, I’m trying to be really kind, and I didn’t want to do this, but I’m calling the police.” The same guy appeared—again.

Kris groans. “I am sleeping,” He gets a pillow and covered his face with it. “It’s a dream. Everything’s a dream. You’re dreaming, Kris, you’re dreaming.”

“How do you keep on getting in here?”

Kris removes the pillow for a while. “It’s you who’s in here,” He says, pointing to his head before rolling back into his original position and covering his face with the pillow.

“Wow,” The guy exclaims, looking kind of concerned now. “It’s more serious than I thought.”

“Go away,” Kris grumbles, pressing the pillow harder onto his face. “You don’t exist.”

“Okay, I am going to ask you a few questions,” The guy says, walking around the bed. “And I want you to answer honestly.”

“Go away,” Kris repeats, closing his eyes.

“Have you been drinking more?”

Kris opens his eyes. “Huh? Yeah, so?”

“So are you hearing voices or seeing things that aren’t quite real to you?”

Kris removes the pillow and looks at the guy who was walking around the room. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Have you ever thought of seeking help from a mental health care professional?”

Kris thinks about Chanyeol. “What? Go away from me,” He says, moving away from the guy who was approaching him.

“Do you often feel paranoid? Like people are about to get you?”

Kris furrows his eyebrows. “Why are you asking me so many questions?”

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.” The guy sighs and sits on the corner of his bed. “Listen to me, you are imagining that you’ve rented an apartment that in fact belongs to someone else.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone. “Pick up that pillow,” He points to the one behind Kris.

Kris turns his head and reluctantly grabs the pillow. “There’s a small stain on the back where I once spilled my cough syrup.” Kris turns the pillow around and saw a small stain indeed.

“Yes, that’s it. How else would I know that?” He asks. “I think you need to accept the fact that you may be mentally ill.” He explains.

Kris looks at him. “..Really?”

“Yes,” The guy nods slowly. “This is my apartment. That is my pillow. That’s my nightstand,” He says, pointing to the small table beside Kris. “That’s my picture—“ He points to the other table, the one near the wall. “—Where’s my picture?”

The guy stands up seeing that there was no picture.

“Wh-What picture?” Kris asks, confused.

“There was a picture of my..” The guy shakes his head and walks towards the table. “There was a picture right there, on my table.” He explains, pointing at the table.

“But that was empty when I-I moved in.”

“It was just there!” The guy shouts, clearly frustrated. “Okay, you know what? I have had enough. I am calling the police.” He marches towards the telephone.

“What? No!” Kris gets up from the bed.

“It’s too late!” He shouts and grabs the telephone—only he wasn’t able to grasp it. Kris’ eyes widens.

The guy tries to hold the phone again—once, twice, thrice, but still wasn’t able to. “What did you do to my phone?!”

Kris shakes his head, not being able to say anything.

“Why can’t I—“ He tried holding it with both hands, but still to no avail. He turned to Kris. “You stay right there, I’m going to use the one in the kitchen.” He says and walks away—disappears, as how Kris saw it.

Kris lightly slaps his cheek and rubs his eyes.

“What the hell was that?”

----------

“I was just wondering about the previous tenant?” Kris asks as he sat down uncomfortably infront of the landlord.

“Ah, well, the guy I dealt with didn’t want to talk about it, it was some kind of tragedy in the family,” He answers.

“So you think.. the previous tenant died?”

The landlord shakes his head. “I’m not really sure,” Kris nods and stands up. “I’ll be going then. Thank you so much.” He bows and leaves.

…

Kris sighs as he stands at the door of a bookstore—it wasn’t a normal bookstore, that’s why. It was some kind of metaphysical bookstore. He bites his lip and reluctantly pushes the door open.

He stands infront of a huge bookshelf, not really knowing what to look for. His fingers slide through the books’ spines. Occasionally he would stop at a book, but then he would decide that it probably wasn’t what he needs.

After a few minnutes, he finally picks up a book. “Guide to afterlife?” He looks around and opens the book.

“Can I help you with something?” I guy—definitely smaller than Kris, who had porcelain white skin and looked good—beautiful, in general, asks.

“No,” Kris answers, surprised. He shakes his head, suddenly realizing how rude his answer was. “I mean.. Do you uh, believe in this stuff?” He asks, raising the book he was holding.

“Well you don’t,” He answers. “Until you do.”

Kris stares at him, blinking a few times.

“I do not recommend that one however,”Suho—as he as introduced himself—says. “You might want to try these,” He pulls out three books and hands them over to Kris.

Kris looks at the books. “So, what kind of encounter have you had?” Suho asks with interest.

“Excuse me?” Kris asks, confused.

“I have a killer book right here if you’re into communication,” Suho says and bends down the get a book.

“Well uhm.. Communicating is not his problem.” Kris answers.

“Cool,” Suho says with wide eyes. “I have just the book you need.”

Kris was pretty sure Suho said ‘book’, which is why was confused when Suho piled more than six books on top of his arms. But he could care less, as long as the books help him.

…

“Are you here?”

Kris sighs and dropps the book. None of the ‘spirit calling spells’ he did worked today, and he was feeling tired—and frustrated.

He looks around and saw a can of beer. “Okay, I have a nice cold can of beer on my hands, and there is no coaster on this table. I am going to slowly open this can of beer on top of this lovely mahogany—“

“Don’t you dare!”

Kris gasps (again, in a very manly way) before slowly putting down the unopened can of beer. “W-we need to talk.”

The guy raises an eyebrow. “About what?”

Kris thought. “Uhm.. Has it ever crossed your mind that there might be something a little weird? You know, about how you uh, spend your days?” He asks in the most polite way possible.

The guy crosses his arms and looked up as if he were thinking. “Actually, yes.” He answers. “It’s a little weird having a squatter inside your living room.”

“I am not—“ Kris sighs and stands up. “Okay, let’s start all over again. Hi, I’m Kris Wu.” He reaches out his hand for a handshake. “And you are..?”

“I am..” The guy backs off as Kris approaches him. “My name is..” He looks around and sees a mug with the name ‘Yixing’ painted on it. “I’m Yixing. My name’s Yixing.”

Kris looks at him. “You didn’t know that,” He says, staring at the mug and back to Yixing. “Y-You had to read that.”

“I think I know my own name,” Yixing defends.

“Okay,” Kris says as he walks towards Yixing. “When was the last time you remembered talking to someone other than me?”

Yixing moves back again. “The..other day,” He answers.

“And when you’re not here, what do you do with the rest of your day?” Kris asks.

Yixing furrows his eyebrows. “Well certainly a lot more than you do, that’s for sure.”

Kris smiles. “Let’s not stray from the point,” He’s still walking towards Yixing and Yixing continues to back off. “Hmm. Has anything dramatic happened to you lately?”

“Like what?” Yixing asks.

Kris shrugs. “I don’t know, like dying maybe?”

Yixing gasps. “How dare you say that to me?!”

“Okay, calm down.” Kris whispers. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to try and help you accept the fact that you may be—“

“I am not dead!” Yixing shouts.

“Look around you, there might be some kind of bright light or white light or whatever. Walk into the light, Yixing!” Kris exclaims.

“There is no light!” Yixing shouts again. “I am not dead! I think I would know if I was dead!”

Kris keeps quiet and looks at Yixing. Yixing looks down and sees that he walked straight through the table. Yixing gasps. “What’s happening to me?”

“YOU’RE DEAD!” Kris shouts, frustrated.

“Stop saying that!” Yixing takes a step forward and throws a punch to Kris’ face.

Kris smirks in triumph. “Missed,” He taunts.

Yixing tries to punch again, and Kris just takes steps back as Yixing misses—or as Yixing’s fist passes right through him.

“Okay, alright, alright!” Kris shouts as he was starting to have a headache. “It is not my fault that you’re the way you are. I just want you out of my house!”

“YOU GET OUT!” Yixing shouts and tries to push him, but instead, he passes right through Kris’ body and falls off the window.

Kris peeks through the window and sighs. “Rest in peace,” he says and stands up to go back to his room. He turns around and shouts when he sees Yixing standing in front of him. “I am not leaving,” Yixing firmly says.

Kris takes  a deep breath and ignores him—walking straight into the bathroom to take a warm bath. As soon as he finished taking a bath, he opens the shower curtains only to find Yixing sitting pretty on top of the toilet. He rolls his eyes and grabs a towel and wraps it around his waist.

“What are you so afraid of? It’s not like we’re both guys in here.” Yixing smirks.

Kris decides to ignore him and get dressed—with his back facing Yixing.

The next day, when Kris opened the refrigerator to get a can of beer, he was surprised to find Yixing sitting inside. “Another one?” Yixing asks.

Kris immediately takes another can and closes the door of the refrigerator, ignoring Yixing.

Yixing continued to irritate Kris—One time he stood infront of the television while singing out loud. Kris turned off the television and decided to read a book instead. Yixing, however, did not stop singing.

“Okay!” Kris shouts, putting the book down. “I have had enough with you! I tried to be nice here, but now, you’re leaving!” Kris stands up and walks away.

----------

Yixing stands about six feet away from Kris, his arms crossed and his face showing the slightest bit of amusement. “He doesn’t even see me!” He exclaims at the priest who was sprinkling holy water.

Kris glares at him. “A little bit to the left, father.” He says just as Yixing groans and says “You’re mopping that up,” before leaving.

The next day, Kris sits on the sofa and Yixing plops himself beside him. “Don’t worry, we’ll have the spirit leave in no time,” One Chinese woman says before lighting an incense and throwing it on the floor.

“Please do, thank you.” Kris says politely in Chinese.

“Wait, you can speak Chinese?” Yixing asks.

Kris raises an eyebrow. “I am Chinese,”

“Cool, I’m Chinese too,” Yixing shrugs and sighs. “They’re gonna set off the smoke detector in three.. two.. one..”

And then the smoke detectors started beeping. Kris sighs in defeat and throws his head back on the couch.

…

“That’s it?” Kris asks as he stares at Suho. “You just.. sit there?”

Suho looks at him. “What, do you want bells? Reading? Cards?”

Yixing sighs and sits on the tables infront of Suho. “Oh come on,” He says. “He can’t see me either. For some dreadful reason, only you can.”

“Okay, there’s something,” Suho says. “There’s definitely a presence.”

Yixing crosses his legs. “Oh, how original. Tell me more.”

“It’s hostile,” Suho says, looking at Kris. “Wants you out of here.”

“Actually, he’s not bad.” Yixing raises an eyebrow.

“You should move.” Suho says to Kris.

Kris’ eyes widens. “I should move?”

“I would,” Suho says.

“I like him!” Yixing smiles. “This kid’s got a gift.”

“I’m not moving!” Kris exclaims.

Suho’s eyebrows furrows. “Why not? It’s not like the apartment is that great anyway.”

“What?” Yixing says.

“Yes it is!” Kris continues.

“it’s got a view.”

“And a fireplace.”

Yixing and Kris look at each other for a moment. “Whatever,” Suho sighs. “Do you have like, a drink or something? I’m really thirsty.”

Kris sighs. “Yeah, sure. Come here.” He says and walks towards the kitchen.

Suho was gulping his drink and Kris stares at him, confused, irritated and worried. “M-move out? That’s not possible. Can’t you just talk to him? Tell him to pass on?”

“Could you please talk to him,” Yixing suddenly appears beside Kris, imitating him. Kris groans, slightly shocked but rolls his eyes and lifts his hand in front of Yixing’s face.

“I’m ignoring you,” Kris declares in Chinese.

“I’m ignoring you!” Yixing retorts (in Chinese too).

“He won’t accept the fact that he’s dead,” Kris explains to Suho who was nodding. “I told him to walk to the light, he wouldn’t do it.”

“That’s because there is no light! Damn it, you’re infuriating!” Yixing shouts and walks away. Kris attempts to push him  but of course, his hand just passed through Yixing's body.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Suho asks, confused.

“Do you think I like this? Do you think this is easy for me?” Yixing asks Kris. “I know something’s different. I know something’s  not right—I’m walking through walls!”

Suho rubs his temples. “You know, I don’t think I can help you. This is one of the most alive spirits I’ve ever been around. He’s not going anywhere.”

“What do you mean?” Kris asks.

“I agree with him,” Suho explains. “He’s not dead.”

Kris furrows his eyebrows and stares at Yixing who smirks at him.

“But you..” Suho says and does some weird hand gestures, “You have the darkest aura I have ever seen. It’s the life out of you.” Suho approaches him and pats his shoulder. “You have to let him go.”

“How can I when he won’t leave?” Kris says through clenched teeth.

“Not the spirit,” Suho shakes his head. “I’m talking about the one you’re keeping in here,” Suho says, pointing at Kris’ heart. “That’s what’s really haunting you, isn’t it?”

Yixing smiles and crosses his arms as he approaches Kris and Suho.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Kris says, slightly pushing Suho’s arm away from him.

“Oh, I get it,” Yixing chuckles. “You were dumped! Probably for some guy who doesn’t go around spilling beer everywhere and has a couch stuck on his .”

“Shut up,” Kris says, glaring at Yixing.

“What, you can dish it out but you can’t take it? You bring tons of people here to get rid of me but when I just talk about you getting dumped once you—“

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Kris raises his voice. “Shut the hell up!” He shouts in Chinese and leaves.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Suho says behind him.

Yixing was smirking, until Suho turned around, “A word to the wise, show some respect for the dead.” Suho says and turns around before leaving.

Yixing’s smirk automatically disappears.

He follows Kris up to the rooftop, where he sees the other one standing there, staring at tall buildings and night lights.

“Kris?” Yixing calls out. Kris turns around and rolls his eyes as soon as he sees Yixing. “I-I’m sorry.” Yixing says.

Kris turns his back on him, ignoring Yixing. Yixing looks around awkwardly, “I uh.. I got this place for the rooftop.” He explains. “I was going to do a whole garden out here.. eventually, I think—okay, now I’m blabbing. I uh.. I’m really sorry.” He says, slowly walking towards Kris. “Most people who deal with loss really find it helpful to talk about things.”

“I don’t want to talk about it!” Kris shouts.

Yixing nods. “A-anger works too.”

Kris turns around and sighs. “W-who as he talking about? Yixing asks.

“Tao. His name was Tao,” Kris answers.

“Who’s Tao?” Yixing asks.

Kris turns around and sighs. “He was my boyfriend.” He walked past Yixing and headed downstairs.

Kris decided to go to the park. He sat on a bench and sighed. When he turned to his left, he groaned upon seeing Yixing. “Why are you still here?” He asks, clearly irritated.

“That’s a scary question,” Yixing answers. “I have no idea. Why are you the only one who can see me?”

“Don’t ask me!” Kris exclaims.

“All I know is that when I’m not with you, it’s like.. It’s like I don’t exist.” Yixing sighs. “If I could just remember something about who I am—or who I was, then I’d know once and for all.” He stares at the floor. “I’m trying to figure it out, I just.. I just can’t do it by myself.” He looks at Kris.

Kris bursts into laughter. “You’re not asking me to help, are you?”

“Look,” Yixing says, turning to Kris. “You have two realities to choose from—first one is that a man has come into your life in a very strange way and he happens to need your help,”

“Right,” Kris says.

“The second one is that you’re an insane person sitting on a park bench, talking to yourself.”

“I.. think I prefer the first one,” Kris says.

“Okay,” Yixing smiles and stands up. “Let’s find out who I am.”

---

A/N: I decided to make it a two-shot, guys. ;A; It's too long for a one-shot. OTL I'm sorry. :c