The reporters left within the hour when they realised Yixing and Luhan had no intentions on leaving the storeroom. Yixing peeked out of the door, sighing aloud in relief when the last of them left. There was no reply from Kris after the text Yixing sent to cancel dinner, which worried him a lot. He wasn’t mad at him, was he? Even if he was… it was too late for Yixing to do anything.

He stood up from the carton and awkwardly glanced at a silent Luhan.

“I think we should stay in for a little longer,” Yixing said tentatively, “Just in case any of them are lurking around.” He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “The café refrigerator has some ingredients for sandwiches and salads. If you don’t mind, I’ll make us dinner then?”

He bit back a sigh when he realised the other man wasn’t going to reply him any time soon. Ah well, maybe Luhan would change his mind after he saw the food.

He ambled out of the storeroom towards the café, pulling out extra ham from the refrigerator. Since the café was too small to have a proper kitchen, he could only make Luhan a toasted sandwich. Guilt pricked at him for feeding Luhan a sandwich since he was a celebrity but at least it was better than starvation – or sending him out where the reporters were.

Humming a soft tune under his breath, Yixing set about to chopping the lettuce and tomatoes. There was little light in the bookstore since he didn’t bother to turn it on when they returned but Yixing was at complete ease with just one lamp switched on. He piled the ingredients on top of the sandwich and placed it on the oven tray before turning the dial and waited for it to heat up.

Remembering that Luhan preferred tea, Yixing took out his favourite strawberry tea packets and started to brew a whole new pot. He cast a concerned glance in the direction of the storeroom, in time to see Luhan step out of it. Yixing brightened and enthusiastically waved him over. “I made dinner!” he called as a loud ding sounded. “It’s not much but it should fill our stomachs before we get home?”

“Don’t you have a date to go to,” Luhan said flatly, eyeing the sandwich Yixing placed on a plate in front of him.

Yixing shrugged offhandedly despite feeling a little upset at the reminder. “Dinner’s postponed,” he said, not wanting to mention that he was the one who cancelled it because of Luhan. “It’s okay though!” He held the plate up to Luhan with a broad smile. “Don’t blame me if it tastes too—”

Luhan brushed Yixing’s hand away abruptly and the plate flew a metre away from them before it crashed against the floor. Bits of the ingredients in the sandwich spilled all over but both their gazes didn’t break away from each other.

“I don’t need your fake sympathy,” Luhan told him levelly. “A sandwich? Who do you think I am? You think I’ll be touched you made me a sandwich?” He let out a short laugh. “And for all I know, you could be the one who told the reporters where I was. At least that would give your lousy store some publicity huh?” He shot him a fierce glare and before Yixing could even process what was going on, he stormed out of the bookstore.

Yixing looked blankly at the door and at the broken plate on the floor. He sighed heavily. Maybe he should have seen this coming.

***

Yixing returned home with a plaster covering a 1-inch cut on his palm. He was exhausted beyond words and starving; after cleaning up the broken plate at the café, he couldn’t bring himself to prepare another sandwich to curb his hunger so he wound up heading straight home. Kris finally returned his text message a couple of minutes ago to assure him it was okay he had to cancel but it did little to ease the ty feeling Yixing felt.

He dropped his backpack onto the floor and trudged straight to the kitchen. The house was surprisingly quiet – usually Sehun would be studying at the dining table or his mother would be watching television but nobody seemed to be around. Did Sehun tell him last night he was going to stay over at a friend’s place? He couldn’t remember.

With a shrug, he took out a pot and filled it with some water before he placed it over the stove. Yixing took out a packet of instant ramen from the cabinet and leaned against the kitchen counter while he waited for the water to boil. He was about to tear open the packet when a muffled laugh floated to his ears.

“Sehun?” he muttered to himself as he tentatively placed the dry ramen into the pot of boiling water. After putting the lid over the pot, Yixing quickly left the kitchen to see if Sehun wanted ramen too and made his way to the third floor where he found the door to Sehun’s room ajar. Odd. Sehun usually didn’t like to study in his room.

“Sehun, do you want ram—” Yixing froze in shock, eyes rounding at the sight of a long cigarette dangling off Sehun’s slim fingers. Sehun’s underage fingers. Immediately he stormed forward to grab the cigarette from his hand, cringing when the end of the lit cigarette connected with his palm. Yixing abruptly turned to Luhan, who was impassively smoking rings in his face.

“Sehun is seventeen,” he barked furiously, sparks practically shooting off his glare. “He can’t be smoking. Why the hell did you give him a cigarette?” He redirected his glare to the youngest of the three, about to reprimand him, when he caught the look of hatred on Sehun’s face. The words died in his mouth; he was so taken aback by this foreign expression on his brother’s face he didn’t know how to react.

“It’s not like I’m smoking in public,” Sehun retorted back at him. “Nobody’s going to catch me.”

“It’s not about being caught,” Yixing argued, slightly scandalised that the younger boy was talking back at him. He didn’t use to. “You shouldn’t be smoking at all, Sehun!”

Sehun rolled his eyes so hard Yixing would have about his eyeballs falling off if he wasn’t so stunned at his behaviour. “Can’t you be a cooler brother?” he snapped. “Who do you think you are to lecture me? You’re not even my real brother – I’ll ing take Luhan over you as my brother any day.” He scowled and stalked out of the room, elbow shoving hard against Yixing on the way out.

Yixing couldn’t even register the sharp jab to his ribs. Sehun’s words cut him far deeper than the broken porcelain plate and the lit cigarette combined. A part of him tried to rationalise that he was just angry to be denied something so Sehun was merely throwing his tantrum but it hurt. His words were as agonizingly painful as an arrow through his heart.

He had almost forgotten Luhan’s presence if the latter hadn’t snorted aloud. “I guess you are replaceable,” he whispered to Yixing and sauntered out of the room.

***

He was working alone the next day. Luhan had claimed to be bored of staying in the bookstore for an entire day so he hadn’t followed along, and after last night, Yixing wasn’t sure he wanted to see him around either. Yixing had left early in the morning to avoid having breakfast with the rest of the family because he didn’t want to see Luhan’s smug face and Sehun’s… something. For the first time in over 10 years, he felt awkward with Sehun. Maybe Luhan was right. Maybe he was replaceable.

“Ah—!” Yixing jumped back as hot water droplets from the espresso machine fell onto the back of his hand. He winced and stuck his hand under the running tap. Another injury to add to his hand.

“Are you okay?”

The concerned voice caused Yixing to look up and smile at one of his favourite customers. Uncle Heng was an elderly who religiously came to the Book Attic every Sunday, browsing the new releases as he sipped on a cup of black coffee until he came to a conclusion which book to buy. The whole process usually ended around 3 or 4pm, during which he’d ask Yixing for opinions and they’d chat about the books they read the past week.

“I’m fine,” Yixing assured him and to prove his point, he smiled extra brightly at him until he chuckled.

“You seem a little distracted today,” commented Uncle Heng. “Is something wrong?”

 “Just a tiny quarrel with my younger brother,” Yixing told him with a shrug, turning away to prepare Uncle Heng’s coffee and also to prevent him from reading his expression. “Nothing serious.”

If he hadn’t looked away, Yixing would have seen the deep frown on Uncle Heng’s face. But when he had turned back, all Uncle Heng had was a sympathetic smile on his lips.

“Siblings can be so bratty sometimes,” Uncle Heng said in agreement. “I used to have shouting matches with my brother about childish things like who stole whose clothes or food or facial wash…” He shrugged. “But fights like these come and go. Don’t let it bother you too much.”

Uncle Heng was clearly trying to make him feel better and it would work, if not for the fact that he wasn’t blood-related to Sehun. They weren’t siblings who had to be stuck with each other for the rest of their lives – at any one time, someone could leave, and that scared Yixing. While Yixing liked coming home to Qiuyue and Sehun (whom he considered his family), his younger brother had an independent streak and probably no qualms about moving on.

A loud crash interrupted his thoughts and their conversation. Yixing looked up, his startlement transforming into horror as the 2-metre-tall pyramid display of books he so painstakingly worked on 3 days ago toppled over on a person. Instantly, Yixing rushed out from the café counter to the customer buried under the pile of books and along with Uncle Heng and a few other kind-hearted customers, they pulled the books off him.

“Are you okay?” Yixing asked breathlessly, worry etched on every corner of his face at the man groaning on the floor. He swallowed the fear rising in his throat, knowing how the other person must feel to have that amount of heavy books fall on him.

The man was overly concerned with covering his face despite already wearing a pair of sunglasses and a cap. He nodded and muttered a quiet thanks to the crowd before scrambling out of the store without another word. Ah, crap. He didn’t give Yixing the chance to apologise.

***

Exhaustion made Yixing yawn multiple times in succession as he strolled into the house. Picking up the books had been a chore – he didn’t even want to think about how he was going to have to redo the display. Thank god the day had ended. He kicked off his shoes and dropped his backpack on the floor like he always did every day when he noticed something amiss.

“Did something happen?” he asked cautiously, alarmed to see Qiuyue, Sehun and Luhan in the living room instead of the dining room.

“A phone call just came,” Qiuyue answered flatly, her eyes devoid of any emotion. Yixing’s heart raced. Something was very, very wrong.

“The Book Attic is being sued for unsafe practices.” Qiuyue met Yixing’s eyes. “They want it shut down.” 

A/N: My ing...... T___T Luhan is horrible. Appreciate if I can have comments, please?