one

 

 

He doesn’t remember a time without his heartbeats resounding loudly in his ears, a steady hum over the racket of everyday life. It used to bother him when he was a child, when he felt that it limited him—counted down to the end even when he had no desire to. Now, though, he feels nothing but comfort in the routine that he has grown accustomed to.

 

Of course, if anyone asks him, he never admits it. He tells them about his dreams of breaking out of his shell and ruling the world. He tells them about the excitement he feels, the passion and determination running in his veins. They aren’t really lies, more like half-truths. He does dream of those; he just doesn’t have the guts to do anything about it.

 

 

 

 

five

 

 

Jongin waits until the fifth beat of his heart to open his eyes. At the fifteenth, he glances at his alarm clock and lets out a sigh of relief and resignation. It’s an ungodly hour but this is part of his routine. He thinks of sleeping in, of maybe breaking free of his routine today, but it’s fleeting. Instead, he lies on his bed, struggling to keep his eyes open as the beating of his heart resound in his mind.

 

He only gets up by the fortieth beat, more or less.

 

 

 

 

seven hundred

 

 

Jongin grabs a box of cereal from the top shelf and settles sleepily on a chair. He listens to the blaring television, on full volume in the living room, as he eats his breakfast mechanically, one chew per beat. He hears the news and tries to tell the words apart, but it’s all mixed up in his head, blurring into splatters of ink in his mind’s eye. He wonders for a moment if this is what it feels like for dyslexics. Do they feel as confused as he does? As distant from the rest of the world as he does? 

 

Jongin shakes off his thoughts. It’s almost time to finish up his breakfast.

 

 

 

 

three thousand two hundred

 

 

Jongin reaches his classroom in the nick of time. He sees Sehun waving him over and Jongin’s nerves settle. He hasn’t messed up his routine yet, even after his neighbor stopped to ask him if he was free to babysit that weekend. He had to decline, of course, and come up with a flurry of excuses. It cost him around two hundred beats, but he managed.

 

Jongin smiles at Sehun but it feels halfhearted, especially when he sees Yixing sitting next to his bestfriend. He tries, though. He pictures himself with a smile that reaches his eyes, tries to project it in real life. He fails. Sehun doesn’t notice. Jongin makes it a point to look away from Yixing, even though a small voice at the back of his mind is screaming at him to take a peek.

 

 

 

 

nine thousand

 

 

Jongin doesn’t like Yixing. He makes Jongin’s heart do all sorts of—things. Weird things like skipping a beat or going faster than it should be. When they first met, when he sees Yixing dance, when they go out with Sehun and end up riding the bus home together—his heart betrays him and his routine is ruined.

 

 

 

 

twelve thousand six hundred

 

 

The professor dismisses them and it’s all Jongin can do not to jump to his feet and flee from the room. Sehun and Yixing were passing notes the whole lecture and while he’s curious, he also has no business in their relationship—whatever relationship it is.

 

He has always wondered whether Sehun and Yixing really are close friends only or, well, together. He hopes it’s the former and he’s pretty sure they would tell him if he asked but he doesn’t anyway. He doesn’t want to hear it, doesn’t want to hear Yixing say, yes, we’re together, I thought that was obvious coupled with chuckles, doesn’t want to see them smile at each other, to see them share a look that boasts of something he might never—will never—have.

 

It’s the first time he’s felt this way and Jongin’s downright scared.

 

 

 

 

thirteen thousand seven hundred

 

 

The first time Jongin witnessed how a heart can be whole one moment and crushed the next was when his mom received news of his dad’s death. A black car came by that day, and two men in uniforms knocked on their front door. The next thing Jongin knew, his mom was sprawled on the floor, sobbing hysterically.

 

He didn’t cry, not at his father’s funeral, not ever. Heartless, his mom called him. You’re heartless. Jongin wanted so much to correct her, to tell her no, no, I can hear my heart loud and clear and it’s driving me insane, but he didn’t. She ran to her room before he had the chance.

 

Everything went downhill ever since.

 

 

 

 

eighteen thousand three hundred

 

 

Yixing’s sitting next to him for History, and Jongin can feel his warmth, his every move. He hangs his head down, gives up on listening to the lecture, and instead, resigns himself to studying at home. He needs to concentrate on calming his heart, needs to—

 

But oh, Yixing’s hand is on his, and when Jongin looks up in surprise, the only things he sees are a dazzling smile and eyes full of concern. He feels his heart skip a beat but he’s too lightheaded to be angry about it, so woozy that he barely hears Yixing ask him if he’s okay.

 

Yes, he says, and for once, he’s telling the truth. He feels perfect, as if he’s floating on a cloud and no one can reach him. He thinks this must be what happiness is, and he wants to feel it again and again because, damn it, he deserves it after being caged up in the walls he built for years.

 

He comes down from his high after a thousand beats, after he remembers what happened to his mom, and forces himself to clear his mind. Only then does he convince himself, once again, that he doesn’t like Yixing.

 

 

 

 

twenty one thousand

 

 

The first time Jongin met Yixing, it was a sunny day. Jongin was on his way home, waiting for the bus. Yixing was there too, standing under a bright orange parasol to block the harsh rays of the sun. Jongin didn’t notice him at first. He kept his head down, with no plans to talk to anyone, because that was how he always was, what he always did. That was how his days went on.

 

He never expected anyone to change that, least of all an unassuming man with a silly parasol. He had always believed that he had his life under control, believed that his routine was what was best for him, that his life was good enough. It was kind of infuriating that after years and years of counting the beats of his heart, of molding his life to perfection, everything could be ruined just because of some guy offering Jongin a space under his umbrella and a piece of gum.

 

Jongin wanted to blame Yixing, wanted to blame it all on that friendly smile, the warmth and friendliness he seemed to exude, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t deny the way his knees shook and the way, after such a long time, his heart was out of his hands once again.

 

 

 

 

twenty five thousand two hundred

 

 

Jongin’s tempted to come up with an excuse of having an errand to run or feeling sick but he can see Luhan, Joonmyun and Baekhyun approaching and he knows he can’t get out of this anymore. He smiles at them as they sit down, answers questions, asks some as well, but after satisfying his self-designated quota, he stays out of the conversation.

 

He still smiles and nods his head, laughing when the others do, but his mind is in another place. He wonders how he landed himself in a group like theirs, but then the answer, like it always seems to be these days, is Yixing.

 

 

 

 

twenty seven thousand three hundred

 

 

Jongin was walking home from the train station, avoiding the bus at all costs, when he bumped into Yixing. He muttered an apology and turned away, cursing his luck and hoping that maybe he could get out of the situation with his heart intact. Yixing recognized him, though, and asked him if he wanted to hang out.

 

Jongin could have said no. He should have said no to save himself the trouble. The problem was, he took one peek at Yixing and, well, he didn’t.

 

 

 

 

thirty three thousand six hundred

 

 

It’s Sehun’s turn to dance and Jongin’s gaze is stuck on the floor instead of his friend’s movements. He’s been thinking a lot lately, about dancing, and much more than he’d like. Ever since Yixing first invited him to the dance studio, he has only watched. Now, there’s this odd feeling inside him that pulls him to it, challenges him, asking him don’t you want to know what’s so special about it that Yixing’s head over heels?

 

Jongin lifts his eyes and sees the measured twists that Sehun makes, admiring the way it seems so countable even though it goes against everything Jongin believes, or believed, in. He wonders if he could scrap his whole life’s work and reassess his heartbeats to make some space for dancing in his life, but then he realizes that it won’t help his cause to resist his feelings for Yixing. Not one bit.

 

 

 

 

fifty thousand four hundred

 

 

Jongin swears to give everyone the best brand of body spray there is on Christmas because, crap, he feels like he’s in some kind of hell with the smell of his friends. Or maybe he should just withdraw all his savings from the bank and make an anonymous donation to the dance studio coupled with a thinly-veiled threat to add a shower to their facilities. Until then, perhaps a pack of masks and incense should do.

 

Kidding aside, though, Jongin has found reason number one to stick to his current lifestyle. After hours spent in the studio, the only person he wants anywhere near him is Joonmyun. He spent more time sitting than dancing, really, and there’s nothing to blame but his nonexistent stamina.

 

And so, Jongin clings to Joonmyun the moment they step out into the cool evening air, determined to keep his airways clean. He laughs when Joonmyun wrinkles his nose and says I don’t wanna be anywhere near them, taking the words right out of Jongin’s mouth. They walk side by side, chatting amicably and listening to the others’ conversations when silence falls between them.

 

Jongin jumps in surprise when Luhan grabs Joonmyun for a hug. Yixing falls into step beside him and Jongin’s suddenly so nervous that he has to hide his shaking hands in his jacket’s pockets. His chest feels like it’s burning, his heart constricting until Jongin wants to scream. His laugh is shaky and the lump in his throat only seems to get bigger every time Yixing smiles or stumbles with his Korean.

 

He’s set on a one-way road to destruction and he doesn’t even feel the need to do anything about it because Yixing.

 

 

 

 

fifty five thousand

 

If it isn’t obvious enough, reason number two to stick to his current lifestyle of attempting to deprive himself of Yixing and dancing is the irregularities in his heartbeats. Now, for example, he’s only supposed to be at the fifty four thousand and six hundredth beat, but he’s already at his fifty five thousandth. It messes with his brain, makes him rethink his whole life in the middle of a meal and a rowdy conversation.

 

The fact that Yixing’s sitting next to him again isn’t really helping, especially since his heart only speeds up more when Yixing asks him if he’s okay. This has happened so many times today that Jongin doesn’t even bother to think when he answers yes.

 

He does, however, chuck all of his thoughts into a bin when Yixing smiles, nods, and places a hand on his knee. Unfortunately for Jongin’s heart and brain, both of which feel like they’re about to explode, it stays there for the rest of the night.

 

 

 

 

sixty four thousand

 

 

Jongin doesn’t realize that he’s dozing off until Yixing pokes his cheek. His stop is next, and he has to wake up or else he’ll miss it, Yixing tells him. Jongin mumbles his thanks, stifling a yawn and trying to keep his eyes open. Suddenly, Yixing is poking him again, only now, on his side. I’ll keep you awake if I have to, Yixing threatens with a laugh.

 

A lazy smile finds its way onto Jongin’s face as he bats away Yixing’s hand. Yixing retaliates, though, and they end up in a childish fight. Yixing has him in a headlock when he speaks. Let me walk you home tonight, he says, and Jongin’s taken by surprise. He gapes at Yixing and, apparently, says yes somehow because the next thing he knows, Yixing’s pulling him to his feet and out of the bus.

 

They’re running and Jongin doesn’t know why, only that Yixing is leading him and he wants to follow.

 

 

 

 

sixty five thousand two hundred

 

 

Jongin and Yixing are slumped on the sidewalk in front of his house, catching their breaths. He raises his head, only to see Yixing beaming at him, and a jolt goes from the base of his spine, though his whole body. He closes his eyes, focusing on that tingling feeling, drowning in it, letting it take over his senses. When he opens his eyes, Yixing’s so much closer to him than before. The silence is heavy, pushing Jongin to do something because, oh god, is Yixing moving towards him or is Jongin just imagining things because this has never, ever happened before, jesus christ, what—

 

 

 

 

seventy thousand

 

 

Jongin used to count his heartbeats from the moment he woke to the second he closes his eyes to sleep. Sixty five thousand and one hundred beats, that was it, no more, no less. Now, he thinks he’s ready to change that, ready to change his routine, to live without expecting,  to be taken by surprise.

 

Jongin will still count his heartbeats, but he won’t know where Yixing will lead him, and he’s okay with that. Every day will be a new beginning, and he actually doesn’t find the thought repelling. Jongin isn’t scared anymore, not with Yixing by his side.