“Why do we have to leave Canada?” 6-year-old Yifan whined, tugging his mother’s arm repeatedly when she wouldn’t reply him. “Where is Daddy? Why isn’t he here? Is he coming later? I didn’t say goodbye to my friends yet!”

The older woman pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, not wanting to deal with Yifan’s incessant questions. She sighed heavily and pulled the boy down back onto the chair when he stood up to look for his father.

“Your father isn’t coming with us to Changsha, Fan,” she said wearily, her voice thick as if she had been using her vocal cords a lot.

“Why?” Yifan pressed with a frown. “Why isn’t Daddy coming too?”

Her patience started to wear thin at Yifan’s shaking of her arm when she didn’t reply him right away. She closed her eyes briefly in the hopes of calming herself down but her temper flared up when Yifan nagged at her again.

“Stop asking for your daddy!” she snapped, wrenching his hand away from her arm. “Your daddy doesn’t want us anymore.”

 Her sudden outburst sent a shock through the 6-year-old, who stared at her for a long moment before his face crumpled. “I don’t believe you!” Yifan cried tearfully. “I’m going to find Daddy.” Before his mother could come up with a response, he ran off towards the sliding doors, fully intending to head out of the airport to look for his father when he ran straight into a pair of legs and toppled backwards.

The long legs belonged to a man who had a kind face and a dimple that dented his cheek when he smiled. He squatted down in his smart white uniform, took one look at Yifan and took out a model airplane from his briefcase.

“If I give this to you, will you stop crying?” the man asked gently.

Yifan gazed at the model airplane for a long time before realizing his mother had caught up to him and had her hand clamped onto his shoulder. Still mad at her, he tried to wriggle away but then the stranger placed the model airplane in his hand.

“You really don’t need to,” he heard his mother tell the man, to which he chuckled and affectionately ruffled Yifan’s hair.

“It’s nothing. I have a son his age too. I know how they can get.”

His mother bit her lower lip and looked conflicted for a moment before she flashed him a hesitant smile. “Fan, shouldn’t you say something? Say thank you to…?” She glanced at him. 

The stranger smiled broadly. “Uncle Zhang will do.”

***

. His eyes were bloodshot. Anyone who had the fortune to take a look at them was sure to discover Kris Wu had been crying. He gritted his teeth and readjusted the pair of sunglasses on his face before he pressed the elevator button to the 8th floor where his ad agency was. Most people would be calling in sick or taking a long holiday after the night he had, but unlike them, Kris preferred to drown himself in work to forget.

He briefly caught a glimpse of his reflection in the elevator mirror and noticed, wryly, that he was still wearing the goddamned couple ring. After the end of three long years of their relationship last night, what good was this ring for? He pulled out the ring from his middle finger viciously, leaving two long red marks along his finger that didn’t even hurt as much as a fraction of his heartbreak.

“Morning, Lina,” he greeted in a low voice when he got out of the elevator. Kris nearly headed straight to his office when he noticed someone else in the room – holy , wasn’t that—? He pulled off his sunglasses in disbelief, vaguely hearing the receptionist introducing him because hell, he already knew who this person was. Zhang Yixing.

When Kris was in high school, Yixing was in the year below him. He was in the same basketball team as Kris so Kris knew his name and other necessary information a captain needed to know but they weren’t close because Yixing tended to keep to himself and Kris ran in a different social circle due to his popularity. If it weren’t for The Incident, Kris might never have remembered his face.

To think he was the son of Uncle Zhang.

Pushing aside the initial surprise of the coincidence, Kris motioned for Yixing to follow him into the office. “This is where you will be sitting,” he told Yixing and vaguely gestured at the surrounding cubicles. “They are part of our team so get to know them.”

He didn’t wait for Yixing to settle at his cubicle before he escaped into his own private room.

Kris had barely sat down on his expensive swivel chair when his mobile phone started to ring and just as he thought, it was Uncle Zhang.

“Did he come?” was the first thing the older man said.

Kris chuckled slightly under his breath at the concern in his voice. “Yeah. Did you think he wouldn’t, Uncle?” he teased. “Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of Yixing.”

***

“Kris. It’s Dr Zhou. I heard about your breakup with Jessica. Please come in tonight. You need to stop skipping our sessions.”

***

The strobe lights that flashed across his eyes every three seconds were a pain in the and Kris made it a point to tell his friend, Chanyeol, who was the owner of the club. “Can’t you decrease the frequency of those damned lights? I’m too young to be going blind,” he yelled into the other man’s ear, put off when the latter merely laughed in his face and gestured for the bartender to bring him a beer.

“You need to chill, Kris,” the club owner told him with a grin that seemed a little more tense than usual. Ah, probably because he heard of his breakup too. “I know you need to get drunk. Drinks on me.”

Picking up the mug of Qingdao beer the bartender set in front of him, Kris took a hefty gulp from it and rolled his eyes at Chanyeol to show that he was over the breakup. More or less, anyway. “Drinks are always on you,” he shouted, miffed when the club owner laughed and walked off with some excuse he couldn’t even hear.

His eyes surveyed the dance crowd that evening and his signature scowl returned to his face. Whatever were Chanyeol’s bouncers doing, letting these people who clearly looked underage in? He motioned for the bartender to complain when his gaze fell onto a familiar figure seated halfway down the bar from him.

Kris blinked. It was Yixing. And he wasn’t alone.

His scowl got darker when the man next to Yixing stepped even closer to his personal space. Wow, how shameless could he be? The Yixing he knew from high school had to be uncomfortable with all that skinship. Kris stood up, fully intending to rescue his junior from the claws of that ert. Until Yixing practically draped himself over the man and let the stranger lead him out of the club.

***

[URGENT] Client wants a redo on the concept.

[URGENT] New mascot needed for Project Horizon

[URGENT] To supervise photoshoot this coming Thursday

Was this enough? Kris frowned at his email outbox, at the list of tasks he had forwarded to Yixing to complete. He was fully aware that he was being ridiculous on certain things – like what the hell did he want a graphic designer to watch over a photoshoot for when he didn’t even do photo editing –but he figured the busier Yixing was, the later he had to stay up for the projects, which meant he’d be too tired to go clubbing. Because after that first night, Kris found that he happened to be there at least once a week and each time, Yixing would go home with a different person. Call it stupid, but he had Uncle Zhang to answer to and this was the best method he could think of to take care of Yixing.

He stretched his arms over his head tiredly and rubbed the back of his neck while he idly looked out from the clear panels of his office to where his staff was sitting. Yixing sat at the cubicle that was directly across his office but he wasn’t there right now. Kris frowned and glanced at the clock. 4pm. Was he having his tea break? Maybe Kris could make use of the opportunity to talk to him.

Pretending that he needed a refill of coffee, Kris grabbed his mug and strode out of his office towards the pantry. Maybe I should ask Yixing out for dinner or a movie, he mused, as former schoolmates to catch up?

“… want to go with me?”

Too late. One of the staff from the other team obviously shared the same thoughts as Kris. His signature scowl reappeared on his face when Yixing agreed to the date and even reached out to touch the woman’s hair. From all the nights he had watched Yixing, Kris knew he was pretty much a smooth operator when it came to flirting.

Before he could stop himself – “Yixing.”

He swallowed down the guilt when Yixing and Tasha looked at him and pressed on. “I need you to stay back and finish an assignment for a client,” he said expressionlessly. “The client wants it tomorrow.”

And of all replies to get – “Sorry, I have plans tonight.”

Stunned, Kris' eyes flew to Yixing's face, devoid of any emotions. Nobody ever said no to him. He couldn't even process the rest of Yixing's words and before he knew it, the other had taken hold of Tasha's hand and shoved him on the way out.

***

"Daddy!" Yifan hollered happily at the sight of the older man in the doorway. He immediately lunged forward and hugged his father, glad that he had come for them. He just knew it, his mother had been lying when she said he didn't want them. How could Daddy not want them? They were a family! Never mind that he was a year late; in any case he was here now!

"What are you doing here!?" his mother screamed when she appeared from the kitchen, horrified to see the person she least wanted to see at their house. She yanked Yifan away from his father and shoved him out the door. "You are not welcome here. Get out!"

"Xueli! Come on, don't do this in front of Fan," his father begged. Yifan watched the two of them in bewilderment and tried to squeeze past his mother's legs to get to his father but was once again pushed back.

"I told you to stay away from us," she spat fiercely. "Go back to your !" Yifan gaped, unable to get a word in edgewise when she slammed the door in his father's face.

He stared at her retreating back, at how she hunched over the kitchen table. At seven, he was too young to comprehend her cutting words; he only knew that she was keeping his father from him. Yifan dipped his hand into the pocket, feeling a light blanket of comfort over him when he touched the familiar rectangular object that belonged to his father.

Hey – he had an excuse here!

“I’ll be right back! Daddy dropped something!” he shouted, quickly escaping out the front door before his mother could react. Yifan ran as fast as he could to where he last spotted his father and heaved a sigh of relief when he saw that the car hadn’t left. Maybe his father could take him away from Changsha! He missed Canada badly.

Grinning, Yifan approached the car with his father’s lighter in his hand and was about to knock on the window when he noticed his father wasn’t alone. He was kissing a woman that wasn’t his mother.

At seven, Yifan had a pretty clear idea of what that meant. He looked at them in disbelief up until the car drove off. Not once did his father look back at their house. His mother was right. His father didn’t want them anymore.

His gaze fell onto the lighter in his hand and out of habit, Yifan flicked the cover off to look at the flame. He used to find comfort in that, thinking that Daddy would come for him soon. He wasn’t going to be fooled anymore. Lips curling in contempt, he bunched up his fist and defiantly hurled the lighter against the bushes next to him.

At least the burning fire knew how he felt inside.

A/N: If anyone's interested, there's a Hunhan drabble here? Same verse as Pick Up The Pace.