Word count: approx. 6,500 words.

MARCH - APRIL 2012

Everything was red, red and white; like cherries spattered on winter snow. Through misty sunlight emerged a set of stone steps leading up into the fog, veined only faintly with indigo and steel on its ivory surface. At the foot, lying still on the cold ground, was a body.

Frozen, resting in a halo of blood.

There was no sound except for the hollow silence echoing around the helpless form, with limbs reaching out at sharp angles and face so peaceful it could have been sleeping. The onlooker took tentative steps forward on a floor like cracked ice, peering down at the exquisite features of the broken stranger; pearlescent skin framed chapped, pale lips as soft flakes began to rain down through the air. A few landed on the ruby puddle, floating absently on its surface, and the observer could finally make them out, holding out a hand to catch one in his palm.

Feathers. Hundreds of feathers.

Soon the air was thick with them; some big, some downy like cotton fluff, and everything started getting hazy as the curtain grew denser and the smaller particles tickled the back of the onlooker’s throat, making him cough and retch. He covered his mouth and looked down at his feet, now being engulfed by the blood pool as it rose higher and higher to cover his shoes. In a panic, he stepped backwards but slipped and crashed to the marble. The red continued to flood the floor, staining his skin, and through the cloud of it all, his gaze fell desperately on the fading face of the body and gasped.

Its eyes were open. Pupil-less eyes.

Minseok jerked suddenly awake, heart hammering against his ribs.

With short, wild breaths, he frantically took in his surroundings. There was no red, no stone, no feathers, but there was a body; lying still and pale in the bed in front of him. A string of wires left its translucent skin and machines chimed around its head.

Beep…beep…beep…

Minseok’s heart-rate slowly returned to normal and he breathed deeply, filling his weary lungs with as much stale oxygen he could from the hospital room. The dark windows showed the slightest tint of morning, proving how early it was and Minseok had yet to go home. There was a crook in his neck from leaning forward onto the bed to sleep and his arm ached but he didn’t dare move it; his hand holding tight onto Lu Han’s limp, unresponsive grasp.

He slid his chair closer and put his head back down to sleep, making sure he took in one more look of Lu Han’s face before his eyes closed again.

He’d never been in love before, so he didn’t know how to recognise the signs. But if spending hours he couldn’t afford to spare by someone’s side that he hadn’t known for very long wasn’t hinting at something special, he didn’t know what would. The phases of the moon had barely come full circle since he first set eyes on the star’s golden head poking out of the Mercedes that night, once upon a time; yet he couldn’t imagine himself anywhere else on Earth in that moment. 

The world could keep its glittering skyscrapers, and city ruins, and beaches s with miles of white sand and he’d take the gentle buzzing of the clinical cell containing his sleeping doll any day.

If only there was a thread of truth to his disturbing dreams...

If only the doll could just open his eyes…

*

Walking through the university had suddenly become a very different experience.

Where people used to discuss his name in excited whispers, plucking up the courage to talk to him and ask about Lu Han, even go as far as following him around the campus and pine for his autograph, now the story had changed somewhat. Those excited whispers evolved into hushed undertones that watched him warily from the side-lines, even to go as far as purposely walking away from him when they passed. Minseok tried not to think about it too much, but the truth was hard to ignore.

People were starting to suspect him.

He had to admit he didn’t look all too innocent, at least to the general public who fell for the tell tales published in tabloids. On the one page was the evidence of that night with Minseok hurling painful words in Lu Han’s direction and on the other…news of Korea’s favourite deer that they loved to hate in a coma, body discovered after a fall. Was he the one to do it? Was the celebrity pushed? Was it a crime of passion? Or did the star just dance too close to the edge and the ground gave way, crumbling under his feet?

The police had visited the hospital the day after the accident and questioned Minseok of his whereabouts, though it soon became obvious he had nothing to do with it. A guest at the hotel Lu Han had visited had come forward saying she hadn’t recognised either of the boys with him in his last moments before the incident. Minseok knew exactly who they were without even a description and guessed the two dancers would receive some questioning of their own soon.

Still, all of that didn’t stop the people thinking the worst of him.

Minseok kept his chin down as much as possible as he strode through the library’s automatic doors. Rather than heading to the stairs and heading up the floors like he was used to, he took a sharp right and wandered into unknown territory. He scanned aisle after aisle, taking a mental note of the numbered plaques at the end of each one, and finally found what he was looking for near the back, by the study areas. It was much darker and quieter here, with students pinning their noses to the pages of their notes or computer screens. Nobody looked up as he started to search meticulously through the hundreds of titles.

There was a lot more to choose from that he originally anticipated, but he knew what he was looking for; he didn’t want anything too advanced, since he was a complete beginner and probably couldn’t understand all the specialised vocabulary with being him a music major and all. A lot of the books he passed were far too technical for his brain to deal with. Eventually he found something that looked about right and pulled it down from the shelf, opening it out in his arms. At the same time, he noticed a pair of round eyes looking back at him from the other side, peering over the hardbacks.

He sighed. “Yeollie, you can come out now.”

The eyes disappeared and a head peeked slowly around the side of the aisle. Minseok raised an eyebrow and Chanyeol’s long form emerged, scratching the back of his head.

“Hey, hyung…good to see you…” He let his arm fall and swing awkwardly at his side. “How are you doing?”

“Fine. Just thought I’d grab a couple of things in here and then head back to the hospital.”

Chanyeol nodded thoughtfully, bending down slightly to inspect the title in Minseok’s hands. “A Beginner’s Guide to the Solar System and Beyond,” he read. “Whoa. I didn’t know you were into astronomy.”

“It’s not for me. Well, it is for me but…” Minseok closed the book and a hand down the cover. “I was going to read it to Lu Han, actually. He loves this stuff...” He looked up at Chanyeol. “Does that make me sound crazy?”

“No, of course not! People in comas can still hear things around them, right? Or so they say. He’ll love it!” The skyscraper smiled with encouragement. “How is he?”

“Still the same. Nothing’s changed,” said Minseok, hanging his head.

“I was thinking of coming over for a visit? With the guys? Is that…okay? Only, we really want to see him…”

“Sure, yeah, of course.” It didn’t even occur to him that the others would want to see how the fallen star was doing. He’d been so preoccupied in his own world that the rest of reality was starting to blur into the background. “Maybe tonight, after your practice? I’ll probably be there until late.”

“Okay, I’ll let Baekhyun and everyone know.” Chanyeol shuffled on his feet for a few moments. “Hyung, we never got to properly celebrate your birthday…”

Another thing to completely slip his mind. “Oh, yeah. I really wouldn’t worry about it, Yeollie. Turning 22 is hardly a milestone.”

The drummer pouted. “But it’s just not right. You need something to take your mind off things. I’ll talk to the guys-”

“Really, Chanyeol, don’t,” Minseok interrupted, tucking the book under his arm. “I’ll see you tonight, at the hospital, yeah?”

With one last forced smile, he walked away, leaving Chanyeol to lean dejectedly against the bookshelves.

Until Lu Han woke up – and he would wake up eventually, Minseok was sure of it – he didn’t have the strength to think about anything else.

*

He thumbed his way through the hardback, page by page, soaking in the blinding colours of the nebulas and haunting facts of black holes and walls of galaxies too large for his brain to handle. Lu Han had been right; it was humbling to read about such things. Minseok had paused on the chapter titled The Life and Death of a Star when he heard a soft knock behind him.

The band were stood apprehensively in the doorway, with Jongdae trying to peer over Chanyeol’s tall shoulder.

“Can we come in?” asked Kyungsoo in a quiet voice from the front.

“Yeah, yeah, come in.” Minseok stood up and moved the chair out of the way, placing the closed book on the seat.

They all gathered around the foot of Lu Han’s bed, shuffling to form a line and looking down solemnly.

“He looks so…peaceful,” said Baekhyun and Tao bobbed his head, clinging to his upper arm and muttering something in Chinese.

Jongdae shuddered. “I hate hospitals. They give me the creeps.” Chanyeol nudged him in the side, then, and he winced. “Ouch! Okay! I’m getting to it!” He cleared his throat. “We were wondering, hyung...umm…what actually happened to him?”

Minseok gulped as suddenly all five faces turned to stare straight at him.

“To be honest, what you’ve heard on the news, or whatever, is everything I know. A worker at the hotel found him at the bottom of some stairs, they called the ambulance which brought him here, then they rang me-”

“Wait, they rang you?”

Minseok nodded. “The nurse found this note…” He pulled the crumpled piece of paper out his pocket and handed it to Jongdae, who flattened it out. “It was in his wallet. They didn’t know who I was but they rang the number in case I was important. I think they were a little disappointed when it turned I was just a…friend…” Was I even a friend when they found him? “Anyway, the papers did get one thing right – he was heavily intoxicated when he fell. But there’s something else, something the nurses aren’t telling me because I’m not family…” His voice broke.

Chanyeol strode over and hung an arm over his shoulders. “Don’t worry, hyung. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Have you seen his family?” asked Jongdae, handing back the note.

“No, not yet. They might’ve been by while I was out but you’d think they’d stick around.”

Jongdae bowed his head thoughtfully and Minseok noticed something swinging from Chanyeol’s hand.

“Yeollie, what have you got there?”

“Hm? Oh, this?” He held up a paper bag and reached inside, pulling out a bunch of grapes. “You’re meant to bring grapes to people in hospital, right?”

Baekhyun pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeols, we’ve talked about this – they’re for the patient to eat. Lu Han obviously isn’t up to eating much at the moment!”

Minseok couldn’t help but laugh a little. “That’s really sweet, Yeollie. I’m sure he’d appreciate it if he knew what you’d done.”

Chanyeol shot Baekhyun an I-told-you-so look and walked over to Lu Han’s bedside table where he happily placed his grape branch. “There. Maybe he’ll wake up now he’s got grapes to look forward to.”

A disgruntled nurse poked her head into the room at that point and asked them politely to leave since it was getting late. Baekhyun’s palm flew to his forehead. “Yes, because grapes wake people up from comas. Idiot,” he muttered just low enough to miss Chanyeol’s bat-like ears.

As they waved their goodbyes, Jongdae slapped Minseok on the back. “You know where I am, yeah? If you need anything?”

“I know. Thank you.” And he meant it.

The nurse sent him a sympathetic expression. They’d given up asking him to leave because they knew how hopeless it was.

He dragged his chair back to its usual position and opened the book once again on his lap.

Minseok wasn’t going anywhere.

*

That night, it wasn’t a senseless, abstract dream that swam through his mind, but a precious memory.

On the penultimate morning of their time together, milky sunshine had filtered through the gaps in the curtains and Minseok awoke, blinking with heavy lids, to a tickling sensation running along his back.

“What are you doing back there?” he croaked, wriggling under the covers against the heated touch of a certain special someone.

“Guess,” came a little voice.

He pursed his lips in thought. “It’s something Baozi related…” It always was.

The star giggled. “Maybe.” Minseok felt the tip of his finger trace something across his skin in sharp lines. “Bāo…” he whispered, drawing in half-squares and dashes. Then Lu Han moved across Minseok’s back, zigzagging his way down and scratching a final line across the middle. “…Zi…” After a satisfied little sigh, he wrapped his arms around Minseok’s middle and pulled himself forward until they were spooning and he could rest his chin on his shoulder.

“Did you work out what it was?”

“Of course. You wrote Baozi in Chinese.” Minseok rolled over so they lay face-to-face and slid his own hand gently around Lu Han’s waist. It made his fingertips tingle. “You’re obsessed with steamed buns, you know.”

“No. I’m obsessed with you.” Lu Han nudged at Minseok’s chest and let his palm linger lightly over the space above his heart. Those fluffy eyelashes of his were so long, Minseok was sure he could feel the air vibrate when they fluttered.

“No, you’re not…” But I wish you were.

The star raised his eyebrows. “I haven’t left your apartment in days, haven’t I? What does that tell you?”

“That you’re lazy and want free food!” Minseok retorted, only to have wild fingers grabbing at his sides to make him squirm.

“No, Baozi! That’s not it!” Lu Han laughed, then his voice quietened again. “You’re never going to believe anything different are you?”

“Not until it seems real.”

Lu Han was silent for a few moments, absentmindedly tucking a rogue strand of Minseok’s morning hair behind his ear. The he bit down on his lip and inched his face closer until their lips touched and stole Minseok’s breath away all over again. His mouth parted and a teasing tongue eased its way between his teeth, soft and sultry. Minseok reached down and gripped the singer’s hips, lightly Lu Han’s hipbone with his thumb and drawing the star’s slim form against his own. Lu Han pulled away, grinned, and slid himself on top; now snaking those hips between Minseok’s thighs and grabbing the edge of the quilt to draw it over their heads, like a make-shift tent. Their bare stomach’s rubbed against each other and Lu Han moved his lower body to a gentle rhythm. It sent each one of Minseok’s nerve endings into haywire. He felt his fingers melt into every contour of the skin he caressed and the faint moans that left Lu Han’s throat plucked his heart strings into a gentle symphony.

Heaven, as impossible as it was for him to believe, was right there in his arms.

Lu Han looked down to his flushed cheeks, breathing heavily. “Does it seem real yet?” he whispered.

Minseok cupped the star’s glowing face in his hands. “Just about.”

*

April dawned grey and uninviting with persistent drizzle that failed to dampen the spirits of even the weariest reporters who sat in wait in the car park, hour after hour. Minseok prayed for the day they would lose interest and disappear, back to the dark holes they crawled  out of. Unfortunately, he knew full well that wasn’t ever going to happen.

Inside the automatic doors, Minseok shook his jacket slightly to rid it of the water droplets and set off down the now familiar maze of identical white corridors. He’d managed to remain unnoticed by the cameras outside thus far  and planned on keeping it that way, for the sake of his own sanity. He rounded the corner of Lu Han’s ward and a tall, very slim someone in a large coat with a hood emerged from the star’s room. Their head was bent low but as they passed a confused and curious Minseok, they lifted their chin only the slightest bit and Minseok gasped.

He recognised that face.

“Wait-” he called, but the figure only started walking faster. After a moment’s hesitation, Minseok followed behind, quickening his steps. They were heading back to the entrance. He huffed. “Hey! Stop!”

The figure finally slowed to a halt, one foot lingering in the air.

“I just want to talk,” said Minseok. The other slowly turned around. “You’re the dancer, right? From the club?”

He nodded, slipping down the hood. “Oh Sehun.”

“Right. Sehun. I just-…I just wanted to ask…about that night-”

“I didn’t mean to,” Sehun suddenly exclaimed. “I didn’t mean t-to let him go—please don’t think I did.”

“What do you mean?” He signalled for the two of them to move out of the way of the main path and they congregated at the side, heads facing down. “Sehun?”

His eyes darted uneasily. “Jongin…he was winding him up about it all night…I shouldn’t have left them alone, I knew he couldn’t take it much longer…” Sehun ran a hand through his hair. “I was so drunk I passed out on the chair and when I woke up they were arguing and Lu Han stormed out but he wasn’t himself and-”

Minseok rubbed a soothing hand along his arm. “Nobody’s blaming you for anything, really. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Then who’s was it?” he snapped.

Mine.

Minseok gulped. “Maybe it was nobody’s fault.”

“Maybe,” said Sehun with a long breath. “I’m sorry, being there in that room and s-seeing him like that…I have to go. I shouldn’t be here.”

He flipped his hood back over his head and stormed off, hands buried deep his pockets.

Minseok sighed and continued back to the ward. In a strange way he could have done with some company, even if it meant Oh Sehun of all people.

Inside the quiet room, he said aloud, “I’ve got a surprise. Something a bit different than usual”. He heaved the case he’d been carrying onto the end of the bed, avoiding Lu Han’s toes, and zipped it open. He reached inside and pulled out a guitar covered in old band stickers. “I borrowed it off Chanyeol. He’s been teaching me. I thought-…I thought I could try and play my – I mean, our – song on it. I’m not that good yet so no laughing at me the next time we talk, okay?”

Of course, there was no response, but he carried on nonetheless.

The chair was in the same position he left it, and he settled down with the guitar resting on his thighs. It took a few tries for his fingers to claw into the right position and strike the right chords, but Minseok got there in the end. He even started again a couple of times, suddenly grateful there was no-one conscious around to witness his mistakes. He persevered and sang the sweet notes of A Message to an Angel out to clinical space, each one dissolving unheard into the air.

Until something made him stop.

His heart thumped rapidly.

Lu Han’s finger had twitched.

He moved…

He sat, completely speechless and immobile, staring at Lu Han’s hand.

He really moved…

Suddenly Minseok was on his feet, guitar discarded, and leaning over the star’s very still form with shaking arms.

“Lu Han? Can you hear me? Lu Han?”

Nothing.

However, that didn’t stop him running to the door and calling out down the corridor, “Nurse! Nurse! He moved! I saw it! Quick!”

The woman stared at him with disbelief from behind the counter and then ran in his direction. She took her time inspecting Lu Han and fiddling with buttons and reading clipboards before she turned around and looked back at Minseok with empathy in her eyes.  

He knew what that meant. “I really did see it, I-I promise. His finger-”

“I do not doubt it, Mr Kim.” She spoke in a gentle voice. “But you must understand…sometimes patients in a comatose state can exhibit signs of movement, either through response to stimuli or reflexes. It doesn’t necessarily mean they have regained consciousness…or will, for that matter.”

She let a hand linger on his shoulder as she left, squeezing only slightly out of pity. Minseok let her words sink in, but his last string of hope was enough to push them aside. For now.

He’d moved when he’d heard their song, at that was all that mattered.

*

Ding.

The elevator chimed on the 8^th floor and Minseok stepped out. He had no idea what he was doing anywhere near the office at 9PM, only a mysterious text from Jongdae devoid of any clue or hint had brought him to the Humanities block so late after his timetable was well and truly over for the day.

The hallway was dark, almost eerie, and not a single soul was to be seen anywhere. There was, however, a soft glow illuminating Jjang! HQ through the window. Minseok’s brows knitted together in confusion. What on Earth was the editor up to?

The questions zooming around his head were soon answered as he swung open the door and—

“SURPRISE!”

Minseok jumped slightly at the scene he encountered. All of the band members, plus a grinning Jongdae, had jumped out from behind the desks and cheered as a wavering Kyungsoo carefully lifted up a cake lit with candles and put it down in front of them. At the sight of Minseok’s shocked expression, they’d all laughed and starting clapping their hands together in celebration of completing their secret mission. Chanyeol, in particular, clapped so hard it made some of the candles go out prematurely and he made a scene of trying to relight them in a flap – but since his long fingers were having trouble getting the lighter to work, Jongdae huffed and snatched it out of his hands and completed the task himself. When the drummer stuck out his bottom lip, Jongdae patted him sympathetically on the back and handed him a knife.

“You can help cut the cake, how about that?” he offered, and Chanyeol beamed.

Minseok stepped forward. “Guys, I-…you really didn’t have to-”

“No, but we wanted to. C’mon, dude, it’s your birthday! Well, it was your birthday…you know what I mean…” Jongdae shot him a half-grin.

Baekhyun walked around and squeezed Minseok’s shoulder. “Hyung, we’re already late. Quick, blow out the candles and make a wish!”

“Before Chanyeol gets too excited,” muttered Kyungsoo, which only earned him a series of playful punches to his arm.

The boys started chanting “Wish! Wish!” as Minseok stared into the dancing flames, divining a fantasy he longed with every ounce of his existence to come true.

Wake up, little deer. Wake up for me properly this time.

Was it ever going to be anything else?

He puffed out the air from his lungs over the 22 candles and it suddenly went dark. Chanyeol made a noise like a puppy being stepped on and suddenly the overhead lights were by an eager Tao.

“So, hyung, how does it feel to be another year older?” asked Kyungsoo.

“Err…exactly the same as before, to be honest.” Tired. Very tired.

Chanyeol shoved a plate of cake into his hand. “Here you go! I made it myself.” He puffed out his chest proudly.

“We made it, cheeky sod!” cried Baekhyun, scooping a handful of frosting from his own cake slice and aiming it for Chanyeol’s face. The drummer managed to dodge the brunt of it but not quite; a dollop wound up on the end of his nose. His eyes widened at the sight of it and he scrunched up his features in determination of revenge, sending Jongdae into a frenzy.

“Oh no, no, no, no, nobody throws stuff around near my computer! Step away from the computer! Guys!”

Jongdae then spent a good 20 minutes trying to stop the bandmates from flinging food all over the office as frosting and chunks of cake were flung between them. Tao didn’t help matters when he pulled a can of whipped cream out from behind him and attacked Jongdae by squirting a load down the back of his shirt. The editor squealed and flailed his arms and Minseok was in stitches of hysteria by the end, so much so that his stomach muscles started to hurt – and, for only a couple of hours at least, it eased the weight on his heart enough to enjoy himself, with the people he truly loved and would stay by his side. It almost felt like reality again.

Almost.

*

After yet another day of brainless lectures and creative workshops, Minseok wandered through the hospital like it was his new second home. Nobody battered an eyelid whenever he was around anymore. Hell, he knew half the staff by name by this point and some even waved to him as he passed.

He reached his usual destination, looking forward to throwing himself into the seat and strumming the guitar in an attempt to coax a sleeping Lu Han into moving again, when he froze in the doorway.

There was already someone sat in his chair.

At first he thought it might’ve been Sehun back again, but the dancer’s hair wasn’t quite long enough to stick out of the bottom of the knitted beanie the stranger was wearing. He eased his way into the room and knocked shyly on the door to get the guy’s attention.

“Hello?”

The boy looked up. “Oh, hello.” He stood up out of the chair and bowed. When he raised his head, he looked Minseok up and down – not in a calculating way, but as though he was genuinely curious – and slowly nodded. “Ah…you must be him.”

“’Him’? What do you mean?”

“You’re the one Lu Han wouldn’t stop talking about. The cute one.” He had an accent, so Minseok guessed he must’ve been Chinese like Lu Han, but his Korean was perfectly understandable.

He’d be lying if he ever said his heart didn’t skip at the cute one. “I’m Minseok. Kim Minseok.”

“Kim Minseok, that’s it. He always had trouble remembering it. I’m Zhang Yi Xing, nice to meet you.”

Minseok dropped his backpack onto the floor. “You know Lu Han?”

“Yeah. We go way back.” The Chinese boy looked over to Lu Han then with a wistful sigh.

Dammit, why are his friends always so good-looking? “Where from? Sorry, I don’t mean to ask so many questions, it’s just…there’s never usually anyone else here but me-”

Yi Xing held up a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I trained at SM as well, as a dancer alongside Jongin and Sehun. Do you know-?”

“Yeah – I know who you’re talking about.” A little too well. Minseok perched himself on the edge of the bed and Yi Xing sat back down to mirror him. “Did you say…he always talked about me?”

The Chinese dancer smiled and the cutest dimple sprouted on his right cheek. “Like you have no idea. We used to video chat, you see. But if we were too busy or something we’d email each other as often as we could. Your name had a habit of coming up for a while. I usually live in Beijing, by the way. I flew out as soon as I could,” he added. He pulled off his hat and ran a set of fingers through his fluffy hair, heaving a sigh. “I knew something was wrong, I just knew it. I hated the life that had been carved out for him but I used to think he could handle it, y’know? Now look at him. When I heard he’d met you I had hopes again but…”

Yi Xing paused for a few moments before continuing. “What happened between you two?”

“I…don’t know,” Minseok answered, surprisingly honestly to someone he’d barely known a few minutes. “One minute everything’s absolutely perfect and the next…he just wasn’t there anymore. I thought he’d got bored of me or something, so I got upset and-” A lump rose in his throat. “I said some things, I shouted in his face. I hurt him and I honestly didn’t care at the time. I thought he didn’t care. I practically put him here.”

Yi Xing shook his head. “If anything you’re the reason he wasn’t here sooner, and I thank you for that.” His eyes flickered to the door. “Can I be open with you?”

“Sure…” said Minseok.

“I shouldn’t be telling you stuff like this but…” He paused and leaned forward. “It wouldn’t surprise me if it wasn’t Lu Han’s decision to suddenly disappear. The hold the company has…I can’t really explain it. It’s tight, put it that way. You guys caused a serious stir with your antics together so I’d bet money that that’s what really happened. Do you understand me?”

Minseok nodded. “I understand. But why wouldn’t he just tell me if that was the case?”

“I’m sure you won’t this hard to believe, but Lu Han doesn’t have a single selfish bone in his body. He was probably protecting you.” He was looking intently into Minseok’s eyes. “I don’t know the whole story, so I can’t really say anything for sure. He disappeared from my life just before the accident, too, so…who knows was he kept hidden? But I’ve told you what I think anyway. You deserved to know more.”

He lifted himself up and moved to the door. "It was nice to finally meet you Kim Minseok. I feel a lot better about leaving Lu Han like this knowing you’re here to watch over him.”

Minseok bit his cheek. “Yi Xing-”

“Yes?”

He moved—he moved and I saw it happen, I’m sure of it. He’ll wake up again and everything will be like it was, you’ll see-

But Minseok just couldn’t form the words, so instead he breathed with sincerity through his lips, “Thank you.”

Yi Xing bowed his head with an understanding smile and left, pulling his hat back on over his ears.

Minseok walked over to the head of Lu Han’s bed. They’d removed the bandage since he’d last saw him. The hair on the right side of his head was slightly shorter from being trimmed for the wound…but it didn’t stop him from being beautiful. Minseok lightly a single finger down Lu Han’s cold cheek.

Everyone’s blaming themselves for what happened to you.

You could save us all this pain…

And wake up.

*

He’d only just swung himself from the bus, guitar case swaying on his shoulder, when his phone went off in his pocket. Before Minseok could even say anything, a shrill voice echoed down the line.

“They did it! They really ing did it!”

“What? Who did what? When? Jongdae?”

“The band! They’ve signed with FNC Entertainment! Well, they’re at the HQ now to sort out the paperwork but by tonight they’ll officially be signed to a contract! Lucky bastards!” He laughed.

“Are you serious? That’s-…wow…!”

“I know, right? I’m heading home now to change and eat and stuff, then later we’ll head around Yeollie’s, yeah? You up for that?”

“Definitely! Give me a text.”

“Will do!”

He hung up and couldn’t stop himself grinning from ear-to-ear. They were really doing it; living out their ultimate dreams. If anyone had told them barely a month ago that this would happen, they all would’ve snorted and scoffed in disbelief. Things like that didn’t happen often to the average soul.

Unless something celestial intervened.

He couldn’t, however, ignore the feeling of guilt that nagged the back of his mind. He’d known all along of the band’s progression and the interest they’d accumulated from important folks in the industry, but recently he’d fallen out of the loop. He appreciated that they probably didn’t want to boast of their achievements while Lu Han lay practically lifeless, but still – he had no idea how close they were to signing an actual contract. How long had they known?

“You will not believe what I just heard…” he started as he walked in to Lu Han’s room, flinging his bag on the floor as usual and ping the guitar case. It was purely out of habit now that he would start talking to his unconscious friend as soon as he’d walk in the room, but he’d stopped caring if it made him look insane. “Actually, maybe you would because you were the one who sorted it all out in the first place-”

Something caught in his throat as he turned around.

Lu Han’s eyes were open.

Not fully, but the delicate slits blinked under the harsh lighting and Minseok was rendered as still as stone.  

He thought perhaps he was dreaming and his mind was playing tricks. To solve this riddle, he finally regained control of his muscles and pinched the skin on the back of his hand as hard as he could between his nails. Surprisingly, it actually hurt.

Perhaps you can feel pain in dreams after all.

“Lu Han?”

Is this really happening?

The star was purely lying still, staring up at the ceiling, for a few minutes. Then his head moved from side to side and even lifted up off the pillow entirely as he looked around.

“Where am I? What…happened…?” his fragile voice croaked. The colour had yet to return to his face, making him look ghostly and surreal.

Minseok edged closer to the bed, still not wanting to believe what he was seeing. “You…you had an accident…” He settled on the edge. “You fell down some steps…ten days ago…here, have some of this – please. It’ll m-make you feel better.” From the bedside table he grabbed a glass of water and held it out. “Is it-…is it really you? Are you awake? For g-good?”

Lu Han’s wide gaze flitted to Minseok’s trembling grasp but ignored it, instead looking him up and down anxiously and slowly inching backwards. “How…how did you get in here?”

Minseok was a little taken aback by the question. “T-the nurses – they let me stay. I came as soon as I heard.” He let out a long breath, fighting to keep the tears from falling over his rare smile. “My god Lu Han, you have no idea how happy I am to see you awake, I was thinking the worst for so long…”

The face stared back at him with furrowed brows and his colourless eyes flicked to the door. “Do you want an autograph? Is that it?”

“W-what?” Even Minseok couldn’t hold on to the happiness as it melted away. Why is he looking at me…like that? He reached forward to connect their fingers. “Lu Han it’s me, it’s Minseok, it’s-”

But the star pulled back his hand. “I’ll sign anything you want, really, just-” He felt around frantically with weak limbs for the emergency call button, and once he found it he pressed it repeatedly. “Just don’t sit so close…m-my manager will be here any second probably and I don’t want to get you in any trouble…”

There was a flicker of genuine fear that glazed Lu Han’s porcelain features as he lifted his neck high to get the nurses’ attention.

Minseok’s mouth was suddenly so dry he could barely move his tongue. “Don’t you…don’t you recognise me?”

Lu Han cocked his head to the side. “…Why would I?”

And that’s when a piece of Minseok died inside.

He found himself standing and slowly backing away from the bed through the chaos of the nursing staff pushing their way through. They ran to the star, fawning over his recovery and checking his vitals by fiddling with the machines still attached. Lu Han plucked at the tubes in confusion, staring around at all their unknown faces. It must’ve been overwhelming; waking up in a strange room surrounded by strange people and connected to wires of all different colours.

And seeing a strange boy standing at the foot of your bed.

All Minseok could do was watch, thunderstruck and numb, through the glass from the other side of the door. He didn’t know how long he stood there, like an aged statue, pining through the invisible barrier; perhaps hours. He didn’t snap into any kind of senses until a doctor came to move him out of the way.

A broad, suited man with the look of a monotonous disposition was walking down the long corridor, flanked by two very familiar figures – the Korean dancers, of all people. He could have imagined it, but Minseok was sure the taller and skinnier of the two, Sehun, smiled at him, if only slightly, as they passed. The other, Kim Jongin, with that chiselled façade Minseok had been once so proud to swing his fist against, was a different story. The only emotion in the copper-toned wonder’s piercing stare was laced with venom and served with a cold smirk.

Inside the room, Lu Han embraced Sehun warmly into his shaky arms, hugging him close, while nodding politely in Jongin’s direction. The nurse was quick to push on his shoulder with disapproval, signalling that he should remain lying down.

Meanwhile, Minseok clung to the wall to stop his legs giving way and his body collapsing under the leaded weight of his own broken heart.

Why would I? Those three words rang through his mind over and over and over…

He didn’t think there was much worse than being abandoned by the one you love.

Until he’d been forgotten.