Chanyeol’s at a loss.

“There needs to be a way,” he says firmly, drumming his fingers against the wooden surface of the desk and staring around the library as if the shelves of books and mounds of students hiding behind their laptops and textbooks will give him answers. Kyungsoo and Jongin are sitting opposite him, both silent, looking at him seriously (and for Jongin, this is definitely a feat, Chanyeol thinks absently).

“I promised Baekhyun I could do this. But...” His voice trails away. It all seems kind of hopeless, now – he’d been to the town hall in the city to figure out who to talk to, he’d done his best to explain himself to them but they’d only treated the situation like it was some kind of joke, even more so when he’d gone and then come back a day later with signatures from the people in the village he could convince to sign a quick petition.

“There’s nothing significant here,” the representative had said, brushing him aside like he was nothing. “The project has been paid for. We’ve made our decision. Just get back to...whatever it is you kids like to do.” And then he turned back to his computer, leaving Chanyeol standing there, feeling more pathetic and hopeless than he’d ever felt in his life.

“It’s your birthday, Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo says softly, reaching across the table and covering Chanyeol’s hand with his. Jongin shifts in his seat but then does the same, and Chanyeol chews on his lip, curling his hand into a fist under theirs. “Just relax – you can think about it later.”

“My birthday is the least of my concerns,” Chanyeol mumbles. “What if I can’t do this, what if I don’t save them? If the river gets concreted Baekkie will – he’ll be so sad. I don’t want him to be sad.”

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo looks over at Jongin, as if seeking his permission for some silent request. Jongin nods once and pulls his hand out from their little pile in the middle of the table. “Chanyeol, what are you doing next Friday? Around noon?”

“Uhh,” Chanyeol quirks an eyebrow at him. “Why?”

“Just answer.”

“I have a song writing workshop... why?”

“Can you skip it?”

“Hmm... probably. Why?”

“Can you meet us at the quad? Bring your guitar.”

“And Baekhyun,” Jongin adds.

“Baekhyun? Why?” Chanyeol presses. “Why?”

“Is the word ‘why’ starting to sound weird to you, too?” Jongin asks Kyungsoo with a bit of a smirk. Kyungsoo nods, smiling.

“Just come, OK? Don’t question it,” Kyungsoo pats down on Chanyeol’s hand and then withdraws his own. “You’re probably not going to listen but leave the river problem to us. You, skip your tutorial and go home to celebrate your birthday. You know someone has probably been waiting back there to see you all day.”

“Okay,” Chanyeol breathes out.

“Kyungsoo and I will handle it,” Jongin promises. “Just have a good day, okay? And here,” he leans over in his chair and fumbles in his backpack for a bit, then straightens, placing a neatly wrapped gift down on the table. “Happy birthday, kid,”

He unwraps it carefully and then lifts the cover off the little black box whatever they got him is stored in. “Oooh, what’s this?” He asks, picking up the little plastic toy-thing (it looks like a gaming system, except it has a full keyboard rather than the usual play buttons.) “Is it some kind of game?” he turns it over in his hands and then taps the top corner of it against the table. Kyungsoo gasps and snatches it from his hands, looking at him, horrified.

“Don’t break it!” He snaps. “It was expensive.”

“Chill, ‘soo,” Jongin says, leaning back in his chair and laughing out loud. “It’s a phone, you great moron.”

“Why does it have an alphabet?”

“A qwerty keyboard, you mean,” Jongin laughs again. “It’s the new big thing. It’s a phone that can do emails and go on the internet and guess what,” he takes the phone from Kyungsoo and then shows Chanyeol the back of it. “You can even take pictures with it. We thought you’d like that.”

“Oooooh,” Chanyeol takes it back and then lifts it up to pretend to take a picture. Jongin immediately pulls a still-blushing Kyungsoo in and lifts his hands in peace signs. “It doesn’t feel like a camera.”

“That’s because it’s a phone,” Jongin says, rolling his eyes, bemused. “Do you like it? It was Kyungsoo’s idea, because of what happened to your old one last week and – it would kinda if we couldn’t get in touch with you here at school so. You should ask for Baekhyun’s number – Kyungsoo and I are already in there. And your mom helped us set it up with a plan.”

“Thank you guys,” Chanyeol says seriously, grinning down at his fancy new phone. “So... how do I turn it on?”

-

It’s Friday and Chanyeol is making his way to school as usual, except this time he has Baekhyun sitting next to him, rocking against him every time the bus takes a turn and smiling down at his hands as he attempts to type on that blasted tiny keyboard he’s quickly grown to hate (but still love).

“Jongin told me if you go on the internet you can ask it any question and it will have the answer,” he explains happily as Baekhyun has to, yet again, type out a message for him, just a quick one telling Kyungsoo he’s on his way. “Isn’t that neat? My phone is like a pocket psychic. I can’t wait to try it out.”

“That is pretty neat,” Baekhyun agrees, looking up at Chanyeol’s face with an amused sparkle in his eye. “How long until we’re there, Chanyeol?”