Looks That Books Take Pages To Tell
Slight AU, introspective, drama - PG
Song Inspiration : MIKA ; Blame it on the Girls
Kris / Suho / You



It was quarter past midnight when he sauntered in from the rain, shaking his mane of golden hair and brushing the droplets from his shoulders. There were only a few regulars lingering at the bar you tended, seeing as how it was only a Wednesday night. Suho looked to the door too when he noticed you staring, his dark eyebrows arching in amusement.

The tall, lanky blond sat down in the empty stool next to Suho, despite there being a handful of other spare seats to choose from. He must have been in his early thirties, you noted, not much older than you or your companion.

He orders a Tokyo Tea, his voice deep and troubled by years of regrets. Being a bartender for so many years has led you to pick up on these things leagues before your patrons spill their stories.

You mix the liquors quickly, expertly. Suho watches you, his lips lingering on the rim of his own glass. You pour the concoction over ice in a highball glass and slide it to the blond. He raises it to you in thanks, nodding in your direction.

“Life .” The stranger comments, sipping his drink. You watched Suho eye him up and down, taking in the expensive designer clothing and handsome gold jewelry glinting in the dim light.

“Does it?” Suho asks, not bothering to hide the derision in his voice.

The attractive blond sets his drink down and fishes around in his coat pocket. He produces a single cigarette and a gleaming silver lighter. Your eyes were glued to him as he slid the former into his mouth and effortlessly struck a spark from the metal container. The end of the cigarette flared orange.

“I was a singer.” The blond remarks simply, snapping the lighter closed with a clink and dropping it back into his pocket. He takes a long first drag; his breath ghosting out in a steady white stream as he sighs. He holds the cigarette between two thin fingers as he idly turns his glass around by the rim a few times.

“You look pretty well off.” Suho observes, not liking this newcomer’s attitude in the least. You’ve known Suho for years, you know his story. Suho didn’t appreciate types like the blond. The stranger laughs hollowly.

“I do, don’t I?” He scoffs. “I do. I have it all. The life of Kris Wu is  just ing perfect, isn’t it?”

Silence. Suho sips his drink, looking forward. You dig your nails into the lacquer of the bar, hoping the stranger wouldn’t get into a fight. For the moment, he just takes another deep inhale of smoke and taps ashes into the crystal dish between you.

“It was great at first. Top fashion, fame, sky rocketing popularity and more money than I knew what to do with.” Kris Wu leans hard against the backrest of the stool, his spine cracking audibly. “I rode a high for a few years. I was a household name in four countries, maybe more. Women were literally throwing themselves at my feet.”

Kris sips his drink again. You abandoned your duty of polishing the back counter and set the rag aside, enraptured by this man’s voice.

“But I soon realized what was happening. I fell into the traps again and again before I could catch myself-- because it was all I knew. It was my image everyone loved. My public appearance they wanted on their billboards; my façade they wanted to . Companies knew that consumers would eat up whatever I endorsed, it didn’t matter what it was. It was tiresome.”

Ice clinked against crystal as he drained his drink. You turned to grab the bottles to make another, but he catches your wrist and requests something strong and straight on the rocks. With a nod, you pour him the finest scotch you had.

“I dated a few times.” Kris muses, a faint smile on his lips as memories flooded his head. He met Suho’s eyes for the first time and the latter felt his resolve melting. “I thought I loved them at the time. But just like every other cliché, they took my money and trampled my heart when they were done playing with me.”

You chewed your lip in thought as he took a drag from his cigarette once more.

“Fame isn’t something you can erase, no matter how hard you want to go back. How can I ever be sure, ever, until the day I die, that someone wants to be my friend or my lover or my wife… For me?” He bitterly snubs out his cigarette in the ashtray. “If I could do it all over-- I just want the white picket fence and someone to love.”

“We’re opposites, then.” Suho opens up finally. Kris crunches on an ice cube and looks at him with lidded eyes. “I tried to make it big. I tried so hard.”

You notice his grip on his glass tighten, his fingers tense and rigid.

“I faced every kind of rejection. My name was mud in every record company in the country. After that, no one wanted me, even for  just who I was. After all, who wants to associate with the worst musician imaginable?” Suho pauses for a moment, then nods affectionately in your direction. “Until I met her, I mean. She was the only one who noticed me on the edge of the bridge. She picked me up when I thought I was broken past repair. Maybe she can help you, too.”

“I don’t know,” Kris watches pointedly as Suho reaches across the bar to cover your hand with his. You give him a warm smile. “I feel like I’m beyond help at this point. And I’m definitely beyond women.” His glance darts from your face to Suho’s. “No offense.”

“Are you flirting with me?” Suho flushes, a look of mock terror on his face. Kris cracks a small smile, a tsk sound coming from between his teeth.

“I forgot how to flirt a long time ago. It didn’t matter. I didn’t have to try.”

“Maybe all you need is some practice.” You pipe in, sliding both of them another drink.

“At this point, it seems pretty moot to me.” Kris flashes his gold credit card. “I’ll cover his tab.”

Suho smiles again, the sides of his eyes crinkling in honest delight. He lowers his head, embarrassed. Kris chuckles.

“I’ll even buy your coffee tomorrow, too.”

“Coffee tomorrow?!” Suho’s head darts up again, eyes wide with surprise.

“I’d love to.” Kris winks so subtly you almost miss it.