The next morning, Lay woke up feeling refreshed and well-rested. Mouth widening into a yawn, he raised his arm in a stretch as he blinked slowly against the warm sunlight filtering through the curtains. Across the room, Chen was still snoring away, jaws slack with sleep and drool drying at the corner of his lips.

With the maknae drama out of the way, Lay felt as if a humungous weight had been lifted off his shoulders, so he made his way to the kitchen with a spring in his step. As entertaining as it was trying to make sense of Kai’s romantic affairs, he was relieved that it was over (and that he hadn’t destroyed any relationships beyond repair with his snooping).

The only member who was awake was D.O., who was sitting at the breakfast table with a notebook and an unfinished bowl of oatmeal in front of him. He was so focused on whatever he was writing that he didn’t bother glancing up when Lay padded in.

“So what are you doing up so early?” Lay asked conversationally as he rummaged through the fridge.

“I’m always up this early,” D.O. replied absently, pen moving steadily across the page without pause. It figured D.O. would be good at everything, even tasks as difficult as hand-to-voice coordination.   

“Touché.” He unearthed a soboro bun from the back of the fridge and tore off a chunk as he settled in the seat across from D.O., who smoothly closed his notebook and slid it to the side of the table, out of reach. When Lay raised an eyebrow in question, he merely shrugged and shoved a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth.

Of all the members Lay had gotten to know, D.O. was the only one whos he still couldn't quite read. Despite having lived with him for over a year, Lay still wasn't sure if the serial-killer look he got from time to time was intentional or just his default facial expression. What’s more, he had yet to figure out the full extent of D.O.’s anger meter, whether Kai’s dirty laundry was the cap or if there was still an unlocked ‘I-will-raze-your-village-to-the-ground’ level of rage. Accidentally setting off D.O. and not knowing the consequences was a risk he didn’t feel like taking during breakfast, so Lay tucked away his curiosity over the notebook and finished his bun in silence.

He should have known better than to believe the silence would last. There was a soft click of a closing door and the sound of footsteps announced Tao’s arrival. It was clear from his rumpled hair and panda pajamas that he had just woken up, but the excitement in his eyes veered on the side of post-triple-shot-latte.

“Guess what! Zephyrus released a brand new story!” Tao all but squealed as he flopped down onto the nearest chair.

“Is it the one we commissioned?” Lay asked around a mouthful of bread.

Tao shook his head, managing to maintain the messy state of his hair. “No, it’s someone else’s. We’re still, like, ninth on the queue, but whatever, I’m so ready to be mindblown by the feels.”

Lay couldn’t help but let out a snort at Tao’s theatrics but made a mental note to check his subscription list after breakfast.

*****

That evening, he was curled up in bed with the newest Zephyrus fic when Luhan burst into the bedroom. Chen squawked loudly in surprise, nearly spilling his bowl of ramen all over his Chinese exercise books.

“Guys,” Luhan panted, eyes bright with excitement. “Our baby maknae is in the mood to celebrate tonight. Food and drinks are on him so we better get on it before he changes his mind.”  

Chen let out a whoop and all but leapt across the room to grab his bag and shoes. “What are we supposed to be celebrating again?”

Luhan raised both palms in a who-knows sort of gesture. “Kid didn’t say but who the hell cares. You in, Lay?”

It was tempting to refuse – it was almost bedtime and he had a fic to finish reading – but Sehun’s stinginess was renowned and an opportunity like this would surely never happen again in this lifetime, so Lay toed on his shoes and hurried after Lu Han.     

The leaders were noticeably absent and the more responsible members had already turned in for the night, so they head off in high spirits. Lay found himself next to a giddy Sehun at the head of their sizable group, leading the way to the bus stop.

“Lay, my good sir, how are you faring on this exquisite evening,” the maknae said loudly, throwing a heavy arm around Lay’s shoulders. His breath smelled faintly of alcohol and his eyes had the glazed look of someone halfway to -faced.

“Ugh,” Lay said, scrunching up his nose. “Clearly someone’s been at the soju. How the hell did you get Chanyeol to share his stash?”   

“I didn’t,” Sehun said before bursting into a fit of giggles that lasted much longer than usual. When he finally finished, he pulled Lay closer and leaned down, whispering conspiratorially, “Don’t tell him this but I snuck into his room, helped myself to a few shots and filled the babies right back up with water.”  

“Huh, looks like our Sehunnie’s all grown up; breaking and entering, making off prized possessions, partaking in public displays of drunkenness...” Sehun evidently didn’t pick up on the sarcasm, for he flashed a smile so wide and smug his eyes crinkled into half-moons.

“Hell yeah, and we are going to par-tay tonight!”

Thankfully, the bus shelter was in sight and they all shuffled in to avoid the wind that had picked up. Lay reached into his pockets for his T-money card and groaned out loud when his fingers found only bits of lint and a few crumpled napkins.  

“,” Lay muttered, then called out, “Forgot my bus pass at home. I’ll be right back.”

It took a few minutes to sprint back the way he came and a few more waiting for the elevator. Once he had unlocked the front door, he made a beeline for the laundry basket. He was pretty sure he had left the card in the back pocket of the jeans he wore yesterday, which he had dropped off in the communal pile for all twelve members. Crouching down, he began sorting through the top layer of clothes.

At last, he managed to find his jeans and crowed triumphantly when he unearthed the card in question. Something else tumbled from the armful of clothes he had dug through, a balled-up piece of paper covered with scribbles in black ink. Lay picked up the sheet, smoothing out the wrinkles and began reading:     

Moonlight filters through the row of windows set in the far wall. It spills across the ice, bathing the mirror-smooth surface in gleaming silver. He feels his blood hum with anticipation as his eyes catch sight of edge of the rink. There's a certain thrill to sneaking into the arena in the dead of night and if he closes his eyes, he can almost hear the music echoing in the air, its chords intertwining with the steady beat of his heart.

The words were strangely familiar and when Lay realized where he had seen them, he nearly dropped the paper in shock.  It was a passage from Zephyrus’s newest story, a passage that Lay had been reading just an hour ago. But there was no time for speculation so he stuffed the paper into his pocket and ran back.  

Lay was panting by the time he caught up to the others and when the bus arrived, he squeezed into the seat between Tao and Chanyeol, the latter of whom was tapping furiously at his phone screen in an intense game of Anipang. It was decently crowded on the bus and the other members were scattered throughout, so Lay felt safe enough to tap Tao on the shoulder, leaning closer to the maknae so that his words would not be overheard by the casual listener.

“Hey, there’s something I want to show you.” Lay pulled out the paper and handed it over, watching Tao’s face carefully. The maknae scanned the text but there was no recognition in his expression, only mild confusion.

“Hey isn’t this Zephyrus’s–”

Lay cut him off. “Did you write it?”  

“Write what?”

“The story. Are you Zephyrus?”  

Tao stared back with a mix of shock and disbelief. “Of course not! I barely understand Korean so how do you expect me to write an entire hundred-thousand word fic?”

It was a fair point and Lay knew the answer even before he asked the next question. “Did you copy down the characters then? To practice your Korean or something?”

Again, Tao shook his head. “Manager-hyung gave me a notebook for that.” He passed the paper back to Lay and added, “I don’t know what’s going on but you’re acting really weird so, I dunno, maybe take it down a notch before we get there? We’re going to that café the coordi-noonas recommended with the super delicious cake so I don’t want to get kicked out or anything.”

Lay grunted noncommittally in response – he wasn’t about to get lectured by Tao of all people on weirdness – and turned to stare out the window for the rest of the ride.