Minseok braces himself against the wall as soon as he stumbles out of the room and the door swings shut behind him. Releasing the shuddering breath he had been holding back for the past thirty minutes, he patiently waits for the feeling to return to his legs. He did it. He actually did it. Sure he told Lu Han he was considering it, but he's said that for years with no hope to actually do it. Hopefully he sees the response, whenever he gets it, and not Xiumin. Not that Xiumin can do anything to stop him, but they do have an agreement and Minseok is breaking it.

Pushing himself off the wall, he wipes the sweat of his palm on the front of his scratchy jeans. He should go shopping. Xiumin's clothes are getting increasingly uncomfortable. Slipping his hands into his pockets, Minseok glances one more time at the door he just exited out of, lingering on the sign reading Savage Stage Thesbians, before a proud grin overtakes his face. Even if he doesn't get into the acting troupe, at least he tried and auditioned.

As he walks out of the building, he first texts Chanyeol about his audition. Knowing it'll take Chanyeol a good million years to respond, he texts someone else. The response comes in a matter of seconds.

what are we celebrating?? wait, are you sure you’re old enough to be drinking my little baozi >3

Minseok rolls his eyes as he reads the response before settling the device back in his back pocket.

He supposes he should head back to campus. Xiumin has a test in an hour and a half and he'd rather not be the reason why Xiumin fails out of college.

"Xiumin?"

Halting, Minseok turns over his shoulder. For a moment he has trouble placing a name to the young face framed by loose brown hair; filtering his and Xiumin's memories, he makes a sound of recognition. Lu Han's friend.

"Baekhyun?"

The pretty man stops in front of him and nods. "I almost didn't recognize you. I think your hair got longer."

At the comment, Minseok pulls a strand of his hair in front of his face. Hm. Maybe he could use a little bit of a trim. "Yeah," he says, smoothing the strand back into place. "It's been a month since that day."

Baekhyun's face falls slightly, his smile dimming like a dying star. "About that --"

Minseok raises a hand. "I'm sorry for interrupting, but just as a point of reference do you mind calling me Minseok instead of Xiumin?"

Baekhyun looks like he wants to question the request but keeps from asking anything. Mentally, Minseok sighs in relief because at the very least he remembers the other man being confused when Xiumin clarified his name that day at Kyungsoo's house.

"I'm sorry if this is inappropriate," Baekhyun his lips, "but I was wondering how things were going with your, uh, boyfriend."

Blinking, Minseok hesitates. He's been awfully defiant lately. He could make something up, for Xiumin's sake. Or not.

"Can you keep a secret, Baekhyun?"

The man with softly lined eyes nods.

"I don't love him anymore, but he won't let me go," Minseok says, pushing his lower lip out and staring into space until he forces dew drop tears to the brim of his eyes.

Baekhyun gapes, immediately bringing Minseok into his arms.

Minseok would feel like a complete jerk for playing up emotions but he's an actor right? Whether or not it's the right thing to do, he's looking out for himself. Plus, Xiumin won't know anything about this.

Curling his lips around the rim of a glass of lightly sweetened oolong tea, Minseok leans back in his chair, shifting glances between the two males in front of him. Not only does he have no idea what he's doing here, he has no idea how this is supposed to 'make him feel better' like Baekhyun said after his little crying stunt. “Should I even ask how you two know each other or should I just let it go?”

“Kyungsoo,” Jongdae answers simply. His arms are crossed and propped against the back of the chair to Minseok’s right. Baekhyun nods. “I think they’re together or something. Kyungsoo wasn’t any more of an idiot than before so it’s safe to say they’re not knocking boots yet.”

Minseok raises an eyebrow at the same time a strange expression crosses Baekhyun’s face.

“We’re not together!” Baekhyun claims indignantly, reaching over the table and slapping Jongdae’s forearm.

Minseok tries to hide his surprise. He may not know Jongdae very well — meaning he doesn’t associate with Jongdae aside from the short two-minute conversations they have whenever Kyungsoo throws a party and they’re the only two who aren’t drunk — but he knows one simply does not hit Jongdae, whether it’s playfully or not. This Baekhyun kid is something else if he’s on Jongdae’s good side.

“You might as well be. He talks about you all the ing time, knowing damn well that I don’t like phone calls and that he still owes me just under two million won. I was this close to breaking into his apartment and blowing his head off.” There’s a fire in Jongdae’s eyes and Minseok tugs at his collar as he hides behind his glass.

“And how is that my fault?!” Baekhyun glares, cutting into his crepe like he’s envisioning it as Jongdae’s neck.

When Baekhyun slams the fork down in frustration, Jongdae stands abruptly, looking like the definition of rage. The pretty boy is quick to follow onto his feet. Minseok looks between the both of them before regarding the door. He wonders if now is a good time to run for it. He could slip out undetected and pretend he was never around if the police knock on his door asking about a fight that lead to the death of the two glowering men.

He almost knocks his tea over when they start laughing, unsure of what just happened. Best not to question it, he thinks.

As Jongdae turns to him with a gleaming smile, asking if he wants a refill of tea, Minseok is reminded of Xiumin’s test. Declining the offer, he pays for the tea and excuses himself from the table and the cafe. Before he can make it very far down the sidewalk, Baekhyun catches him with a call of his name.

“Just in case you want to talk. About anything. Even about dumb Lu Han is.”

Minseok stares at the napkin in his hands and the phone number written on it in faded pen ink. He looks up at Baekhyun and smiles. "Thanks."

“Nice of you to join us, Lu Han.”

Passing his professor without acknowledging the man’s existence, Lu Han finds his seat in the back of the room next to Yixing. He offers him a greeting as he sets his bag down beside him. After he’s taken out a notebook — he supposes they’re in the middle of taking notes from the way everyone else in the class is watching their professor return to the powerpoint presentation on the projector screen — he turns to Yixing, waving a hand in front of his face. Nothing. Well that’s nothing new. With nothing better to do, he follows the lecture, taking down notes of vocal patterns and whatever else he deems important and drawing medieval stick figures in the margins in place of everything irrelevant to him. He wonders if he should ask for the notes for the thirty minutes he missed but decides against it; it’s not like he cares all that much. Tardiness and short attention span aside, he’s guaranteed a decent grade in the class.

Yixing snaps out of his daze ten minutes before the class ends and Lu Han looks to him with a pout when he hears the former yawn.

“How dare you leave me to sit through this boredom alone? You’re a terrible friend and I hate you.”

It takes Yixing another couple of seconds to pull himself together. “I’m sorry, what? When I heard we weren’t practicing for the showcase today and were actually learning, I kinda zoned out. When did you get here?”

“Ten minutes ago.” Lu Han draws a thick mustache on one of his stick figures before pausing. “Wait. What showcase?”

“You’re kidding me, right? Lu Han, we’ve only been working on our compositions for this for the entire semester.”

The singer scratches the back of his head. “I forgot?”

“You’re pitiful. I know you’ve been a little out of whack lately but goodness, even I wouldn’t forget something like this.”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind…” He wonders if he should add a beard to go with the mustache.

“The only thing that’s been on your mind is your boyfriend.”

In the middle of drawing a medieval horse, he presses too hard and breaks the tip of his pencil. “He’s not my boyfriend,” he sighs.

“You want him to be. Tell me Lu Han: do you dream about hugging him? Kissing him?” Yixing jokes, making obnoxious kissing noises next to Lu Han’s ear.

Lu Han’s amazing overactive imagination gifts him with plenty of beautiful images of him and Minseok. (Sometimes, he really hates himself).

“You’re killing me, Yixing.” Lu Han touches his cheeks, feeling awfully warm. Hopefully, it’s just a fever.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Invite him to the showcase. It’s next week by the way. I know you were devastated when he couldn’t make that one performance way back when.”

“I don’t know.” Yixing gives him a look. “Fine, I’ll tell him tonight.”

“What are you doing tonight?”

Lu Han shrugs. “Nothing much. He asked me to go out drinking.”

Yixing whistles. “I better not hear from Sehun about you doing the walk of shame after a filthy one-night stand.”

“Please do not make jokes about my nonexistent life.” Making a face, Lu Han goes back to drawing. “And weren’t you against me liking Minseok a few days ago?”

“I still don’t approve but it’s your life. Plus, I never said anything about you doing it with Minseok.”

“I—”

“Alright, you’re free to go.”

At the close of the lecture, the rest of the students gather their books and bags to head out. Doing the same, Lu Han postpones his drawing for another time, shoving his notebook into his bookbag. He’s free for another hour or so but he’d rather not finish this conversation. Yixing doesn’t pick the conversation back up either as they walk through the halls of the music building, passing by all of the practice rooms they say are soundproof but, from the sounds of accidental saxophone squeals, aren’t.

Together they walk to where they always go between classes — the dining hall at the bottom of the student union building — in a silence that doesn’t bother Lu Han in the slightest. He’s too busy fretting over if he’s going to follow Yixing’s suggestion and invite Minseok to the showcase. Aside from the fact that he doesn’t even remember what he’s supposed to be singing, any amount of factors can prove it to be a horrible idea. Lu Han could lose his voice and get in front of the audience sounding like a preteen girl (which has happened before and he’d rather not relive the experience); or he could eat something bad and get food poisoning and puke everywhere; or he could have explosive diarrhea; or he could die. That’s a big one. What if he’s hit by a car? Or suddenly finds out he has cancer? What if Minseok gets hit by a car or finds out he has cancer? Or —

“!” Lu Han stumbles back, clutching his nose. Yixing’s laughing beside him and he glares at him, asking how Yixing could let him walk into a glass door and not give any type of warning.

“You looked like you were in pretty deep thought,” Yixing says through his gasps for air. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Still cupping his nose, Lu Han’s thankful it isn’t bleeding as he tosses the door leading into the dining area open and stomps in. Some students who happened to see his little accident glance at him out of the corners of their eyes, mocking smirks on their faces. He resists giving them all the finger and stalks to the back of the large room, finding the troublesome two sitting across from each other at a table close to the ice cream tubs. He slides in next to Sehun, Yixing finding his seat next to Baekhyun.

“What’s up with your face? You get a nose job?” Sehun asks around the straw of his bubble tea. Lu Han’s afraid to know exactly how much bubble tea the kid’s had in these past couple of days. He wonders if it’s possible to die from bubble tea overdose and adds it to his growing list of things that could go wrong if he invites Minseok to the showcase.

“Obviously he got punched in the face by a gangster in a shifty alleyway,” Baekhyun says before spooning a dumpling out of his soup and plopping it into his mouth.

Yixing props his elbows up on the table. “Even better. He walked straight into a closed door.”

Both Sehun and Baekhyun laugh.

Lu Han has no problem giving them the finger. Rubbing his nose one last time before removing his hand, he glares at Yixing for telling him because now they won’t shut up and he thinks he’s starting to develop a headache. He must’ve run into the door harder than he thought. Baekhyun and Sehun shut up soon enough and Lu Han sighs in relief.

“So I guess you two are back to being best friends forever?” Yixing asks, looking between the two.

Sehun shrugs, taking another sip of his drink. “That’s up to him. I’ve been nothing but sugary sweet to my lovely Pepperoni over there and he treats me like I’m dirt.”

Baekhyun’s expression twists as he mouths his newest nickname. “Can you call me something else?” he asks. “I don’t like Pepperoni.”

“Notice how he does not deny how he treats me like I’m dirt.”

Lu Han groans as they start bickering. He wishes he had kimbap to smush his face into.

“I think it’s okay if I treat you like dirt — which I don’t — because you treat me like I’m a blow-up doll,” Baekhyun says, abandoning his soup to cross his arms over his chest.

Sehun scoffs. “I’m sorry but not once have I tried to shove my into your mouth or your latex —”

“Did you just say I have a ?”

“I crack a lot of jokes but that doesn’t mean you have to be a total —”

Baekhyun turns to Yixing. “He just said I have a .”

“Look, you’re not even listening to me. You just keep talk talk talking when we all know your mouth is only good for —”

“Oh. Se. Hun.”

Even Lu Han feels the shift in the atmosphere and looks around him, waiting for some portal to rip through the space-time continuum. He looks at his friends.

Sehun takes a long sip of his bubble tea before pushing the plastic cup to Lu Han. “Uh, I’m not Sehun. He’s Sehun. See, he has bubble tea that totally isn’t mine. I know we kinda look the same so it can be confusing—”

Baekhyun slowly narrows his eyes. “I will give you a five second head start. One.”

“Bye.” Sehun snatches his beloved drink back from Lu Han before taking off toward the exit, darting between all the people in his way.

The sculptor is quick to chase after him. “Where are you going, Lollipop? Aren’t you always asking for a ? Let me rip your off with my bare hands.”

“That wasn’t five seconds!” Sehun screams from wherever he is in the room.

Despite his headache, Lu Han cracks a smile.

“Looks like everything is back to normal,” Yixing comments, looking in the direction the two ran off toward. Lu Han nods.

(Or as normal as anything can be around them).

i bet you guys didn't think i'd update so quickly haha

(copy pasta from other fic) since my anniversary of joining aff is tomorrow, i thought i'd update everything that's ongoing (which would be much easier if my mother paid our bills and i wasn't living off my phone but oh well)

as always i love you, hugs and kissessssss

(づ￣ ³￣)づ