Exhaustion clung onto Yixing’s eyelids like a piece of used bubblegum underneath a park bench. It was well past the time the Book Attic normally closed but for once he wasn’t sure if he wanted to return home so early. He didn’t want to bump into Luhan, although after what had happened at the cinema, he wouldn’t be surprised if Luhan didn’t come home.

With heavy steps, he opened the front door, his thoughts going into overdrive as he tried to come up with what to tell his foster mother if she asked how was Luhan’s first day at the Attic. Yixing didn’t like to lie to her but he was sure she wouldn’t be happy if she found out they closed the book café early.

It turned out she might already know anyway. Yixing blinked in surprise at the man standing in their living room with Qiuyue, his lips stretched into a guilty smile as he greeted Uncle Heng.

“Uncle Heng! What a surprise,” Yixing exclaimed as brightly as he could. “What brings you here?” He paused for a second, confused. “How do you know my address?”

The two older adults glanced at each other and if Yixing hadn’t been so moody, he might have noticed. Uncle Heng cleared his throat and stood up from the couch. “Yixing, I’m here to take you home,” he said hoarsely. “I... I’m your father.”

The silence that followed was so uncomfortable Yixing wanted to pinch himself just to have pain replace the awkwardness. He let out a small laugh, unsure if the other man was joking. Was this like a belated April Fool joke? Was he supposed to act out Luke Skywalker’s role?

“Yixing,” his mother started. He noticed she was extremely fidgety – why? She was known to be unusually calm in every situation. “Zhang Heng is your father. Your real father. He’s heard about the lawsuit and frankly, he’s in a better position to protect you if anything happens.”

Okay, the joke wasn’t even funny anymore. Uncle Heng? His father? No way. He was just a regular customer who came by every Sunday to check out books. How could he be his father? If he was, then... then he should have hinted or something.

“Ma... it’s not funny,” he said nervously, his fingers unknowingly tightening around the straps of his backpack. “How can Uncle Heng be my father?”

Uncle Heng hesitated for a long moment before he closed the distance between them. “I’m sorry, Yixing,” he said softly, “I-I couldn’t acknowledge you earlier because... I have my own family. You can hate me but please... give me a chance.” He struggled to smile and Yixing could see the hope in his eyes.

Yixing swallowed. He liked Uncle Heng, he really did. But to be told that his favourite customer was actually his father was a little overwhelming. He wondered if he should be angry that he was abandoned because apparently Uncle Heng had his own family that Yixing wasn’t allowed to be part of, but Yixing found that he really wasn’t mad at all. (Kris always said he was far too forgiving.)

“But the lawsuit... Luhan had already settled it,” Yixing said numbly.

Uncle Heng – or should he start calling him his father now? – shook his head. “I don’t want to risk it,” he replied. “I plan to eventually announce to the press that you’re my son and give you everything that I couldn’t for the past 22 years. Now’s as good a time as any.”

“Yixing,” Qiuyue said softly, “Give your father a chance to make it up to you.”

With the two of them so adamant for him to go, how could Yixing say no? His eyes searched his foster mother’s face for a full minute but her expression was so unreadable he wondered if she felt anything letting him leave. He might not be her real son but they did live together for over a decade. Didn’t... couldn’t she love him? His gaze fell onto the ground. Oh right. She had her real son now. Even Sehun preferred Luhan. If nobody wanted him here, what gave him the right to stay?

“Okay,” he whispered, ignoring the way his chest tightened with hurt and regret. “I’ll come with you.”

***

“, Luhan, can you be any dumber?” sighed Zitao, who literally plonked his face against the steering wheel. “You kissed him and then you called him dim-witted? I seriously think you’re the dim one here.”

The scowl on Luhan’s face darkened as his fist punched his manager’s arm hard. It didn’t make much impact to the other’s toned muscles, which annoyed him even more. He folded his arms crossly and stared out the window of the car, throwing what Zitao privately called the Tantrum of a 8-Year-Old. “The kiss was a mistake, okay? I didn’t mean to kiss him,” he said flatly, hoping his lie sounded more believable in Zitao’s ears than his own. “I just pitied him.”

“I pity you sometimes too but you don’t see me kissing you,” his manager muttered under his breath, to which Luhan pretended not to hear because knowing Zitao pitied him just made his life even less peachy than it already was.

“Look, it’s his fault,” grumbled Luhan childishly. “I wasn’t expecting him to laugh, okay. It’s just – it sounded... I dunno, nice?” Nice did not even begin to cover it but how could he explain it to Zitao without sounding like he was in love with Yixing? Because he wasn’t. He really wasn’t in love with him. He was just taken aback at hearing Yixing laugh because despite living in the same house for over a week, he had never heard the other man’s laughter. If Yixing’s tingling 3-octave laugh didn’t appear out of nowhere, Luhan wouldn’t have kissed him!

“God, you are stupid.”

“Shut up!” Luhan burst out with a glare at his smirking manager. Growling, he punched Zitao’s arm again and yanked the car door open. He stormed up the stairs to the mansion and threw open the door but the sight in the living room stopped him in his tracks. Sehun was clutching a mobile phone, his eyes suspiciously red while his mother was next to him, patting his shoulder as if to comfort him. What, did he fail a test? Luhan rolled his eyes and started towards the stairs when Sehun blurted out, “Yixing ge is gone.”

He turned around with an eyebrow raised to meet Sehun’s teary gaze. “Are you... talking to me?”

“Yixing ge is gone,” Sehun repeated, his lower lip trembling despite his attempt to not show how upset he was. “H-his father came for him. H-h-he doesn’t want us anymore.”

“You know that’s not true, Sehun,” his mother said immediately while Luhan was trying to process his words. “Yixing will visit us. Let’s be happy for him, okay? He found his real family.” Qiuyue glanced at the motionless Luhan. “His... father doesn’t want him to work at the Attic anymore. I hired 2 extra staff. Is that okay with you?”

Yixing... Yixing found his real family? He wasn’t going to work at the Attic? Would Luhan even see him again? He found all this new information hard to swallow but one glance at Sehun told him that he wasn’t dreaming. Yixing really was gone.

Fury built up in his system; like Sehun, he loathed to have people leave him. Never mind that he was the one who left Yixing in the cinema earlier. Never mind that he claimed all he felt for the other man was pity. It wasn’t right – how could Yixing leave like that? How could Qiuyue let him go?

“Aren’t you his foster mother?” Luhan snarled, his hands clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms. “Shouldn’t you stop him? What makes you think that man is really his father anyway? He could be some conman trying to lure Yixing away!”

Qiuyue’s eyes went wide, as if she didn’t expect Luhan to argue. Sehun too stared at the idol in surprise. After all, Luhan had always steered clear of them at home, choosing to be alone than to talk to any of them. It didn’t make sense why he would protest.

“Sehun, go to your room,” the older woman said, and it was only when Sehun disappeared from the living room did Luhan resume his rant.

“Is this all you are good at doing?” the idol demanded to know. His eyes pricked but he didn’t understand why they were feeling so itchy. Or why his chest was feeling stuffy again. “Are you only good at throwing people away and not holding onto them?”

Qiuyue stood up from the couch and in five long steps, her arms were around Luhan. “I know you are upset, Luhan, but Yixing has to return to his real family eventually,” she said softly. “It was part of the agreement to adopt him.”

“What... agreement?” he asked slowly, too taken aback to even push Qiuyue away.

“His father is your father’s and my best friend,” Qiuyue told him quietly and steered him to the couch. “Yixing’s father had an affair outside his marriage and the woman got pregnant. She died giving birth to Yixing but his father couldn’t acknowledge him because he... was quite a respectable man in the industry and he could lose so much if the stakeholders find out he has an illegitimate son. So Yixing was put in the orphanage.”

What the ? His father sounded like an ... how could Qiuyue let Yixing leave with him!? He shot Qiuyue an accusing look but she merely patted his knee and continued.

“He secretly visited Yixing for a while and it was only until Yixing was a couple years older that he realised Yixing was being bullied in the orphanage.” She hesitantly picked on an invisible thread on her pants before continuing, reluctantly. “He begged me and your father to adopt Yixing but we didn’t want to. We gave you up in the first place because we didn’t have money – it didn’t make sense to adopt a child. But he was desperate and even opened a bank account for us to use the funds to look after Yixing. Ended up adopting Sehun too because Yixing had grown so attached to that child...” She shook her head, as if in deep thought, but Luhan wasn’t fooled. Did she expect him to believe that crap? To sympathise with her?

“Don’t act like you’re so kind-hearted,” he told her coldly, finally shrugging off her arm around his shoulder. It felt nice for a while, but he reminded himself that she deserted him. “Did you know the kids at school would call me unwanted trash? Did you know how often I wondered what I did wrong to have you leave me behind? Did you even think about looking for me?”

“I did – of course I did!” she exclaimed, but Luhan didn’t want to hear anymore.

“You ought to hate yourself for giving up a son like Yixing,” he sneered, voice dripping with cold malice, as he headed up the stairs to his room. Luhan glared at her viciously over his shoulder. “Because I’ll never love you like he does.”

A/N: Wow my writer's block is getting serious. Please leave a kind comment? ;___;