"The company’s getting really strict about where we’re allowed to go lately."

You could hear the hum of his voice as he spoke. Yixing lied on the floor, his body stretched out, while you rested your head on his stomach.

"They wouldn’t let any of us leave the dorm after sunset. So I had to ask the manager for help."

You looked up at the lights lining the ceiling. Most fluorescents buzzed irritatingly, but these lights had always been silent. Or perhaps they did make noises, whispering shyly, begging for attention, for someone to acknowledge their existence. Perhaps it was just that you’d never noticed. You searched for the noise, yet all your ears would focus on was the steady sound of Yixing’s breathing. Inhale, exhale, inhale exhale. You could feel his torso rise and fall periodically. Your lips involuntarily stretched into a smile. When had the sound of breathing become something so beautiful? His breathing, that unconscious act of taking in oxygen, was so beautiful. It shocked you to think such a small action kept such a profound part of your life alive. As you listened, you silently thanked the heavens for each intake and release.

"You know, I didn’t tell anyone else about the studio. Not even the CEO. Although Manager-ssi knows." He chuckled. "I guess it’s a secret between the three of us then."

He rested a hand on your head, his soft fingers grazing against your forehead. You closed your eyes and sighed in satisfaction. He smiled, continuing to gently pet your hair. “Is that why you were gone for so long?”

"Mhmm. It took a long time to convince Manager-ssi to help me without telling his higher ups the truth. And it took him a long time to convince them.”

"Idiot" you said with a laugh, "If it was that much trouble you could have just told them the truth. At least then you would’ve been back sooner."

He laughed. You felt the deep purr of it reverberate through his body. “Yah, I can’t do that!”

You smiled, turning to bury your face against the cotton of his shirt. “Well, you could’ve told me before you disappeared, at least.”

He scoffed playfully. “If I could’ve, I would’ve.”

You hummed in agreement, your eyelids becoming heavy as the tender touch of his fingers soothed you into a state of placidity. What time was it? The concept of day and night had completely left your mind upon waking up to the sight of those familiar amber eyes. You lifted your head from Yixing’s torso and turned to get a glimpse of the clock. Your eyes blurred with fatigue. As you rubbed them, the distant numbers came into focus; 4:43. You gasped.

"What is it?" Yixing asked in confusion.

You pushed yourself off the floor, gathering your things in a flustered manner. “It’s almost five in the morning! The sun’s going to rise soon and I haven’t even gone to bed yet!”

Yixing sat up, cross legged, and leaned back against the palms of his hands. “Are you leaving then?”

You scoffed. “Aren’t you?”

He shrugged.

You slung your bag over your shoulder and glanced at him in concern. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you tired? Or can you not sleep again?”

He stood up and walked towards you, following you out into the cramped hallway. “I took a long nap after training. I’ll be fine.”

You sighed as you entered the elevator. Yixing remained on the other side of the door. “Then you’re not coming?”

He smiled in assurance, but something was off. It was the same smile he’d always given you. It was sincere, and reached his eyes. It was meant to keep you from worrying, yet there was still something wrong with it. An unnameable foreboding lurked in your stomach. What was this feeling?

"Are you sure? Why don’t you just go back to the dorm?" You insisted, a note of anxiety shaking your voice. "You can come back later tomorrow. I’ll be here too."

He breathed a laugh, “Don’t worry. I just want to dance for a bit. Once the janitor’s here I’ll leave.”

You nodded, keeping your eyes on the floor as the elevator doors slowly closed. Yixing quickly pressed his hand against the metal to hold them back, leaning in to kiss your cheek softly. Your felt the warmth of his soft lips hug your skin with sweet passion. Before you could get a chance to look up, the doors closed on your view of the 24th floor.

***********

Tap…Tap…Tap

Your ears focused on the sound of your feet meeting unsteadily with the concrete sidewalk. Every few seconds, your pace would slow down, then quicken.

Tap, Tap, Tap.

The anxiety you’d felt before had remained writhing within your gut throughout the night, leaving you restless and dazed. Yet even now, you couldn’t place exactly what it was that was causing your fear. Perhaps if you could see Yixing again, just to ensure he is, indeed, still alive and well, perhaps then the anxiety would recede. It was this thought that drove you to quicken your step, increasing your pace almost to a run, as you searched for the familiar sight of the office building.

It wasn’t long before the skyscraper came into view. Already, you could feel the tautness in your chest alleviate. As you drew closer, the familiar silhouette of a frail girl stood, rocking back and forth on her heels in front of the entrance. This time however, she was not alone. Along with Eunhee stood nine or ten other girls, all dressed up, waiting patiently before the thick glass doors of the building. Were they more fans of Yixing’s? You approached cautiously, taking into notice the multiple signs they held, all of which read the same four words:  “Wo Ai Ni Lay”. As you neared the door, Eunhee caught sight of you.

"Hey! You!" she called, pointing a perfectly manicured finger in your direction. You nearly cringed at the sound of her voice. The other girls fell silent, turning their attention to you. Eunhee continued, "Tell Lay oppa to come down!"

She took notice of your insulted expression and quickly added, “Please! Look at how many of us are here! We’ve been waiting forever! I know you know he’s there!! “

You felt the nervousness return as the girls waited in anticipation for your respose. What should you say? Should you lie again?

"I already told you, I don’t know who you’re talking about. Sorry." You bowed your head slightly as you turned to let yourself into the building. Before you could enter, Eunhee spoke up again. Her voice dripped with disdain. "Yah! What gives you the right to keep him to yourself?! Does he even know you? Does he even care about you?! We’re his fans! We love him!"

Her anger intensified as she yelled with all her might, “Up until a few weeks ago, you didn’t even know who Lay was!!"

You shut the door firmly behind you, locking it as Eunhee began to bang against the glass, still yelling inaudibly. The rattling of the door caught the security guard’s attention. He ran over and took you by the shoulder, gently pushing you away from the door. Once you’d had his permission to leave, you made your way to the elevator, a heavy feeling in your chest. Eunhee’s words echoed in your mind as you waited silently in the metal room of the elevator. It wasn’t true. You knew as much. Yixing did know you. He did care for you. Yet you repeated her words to yourself like a mantra. What gives you the right to keep him to yourself?

Ding.

The red sign above the door lit up with those familiar numbers. The thick metal seperated slowly, welcoming you to the narrow hall of the 24th floor. You stepped in, automatically making your way to the private studio. As you slid the doors open, a fleeting feeling of deja vu crossed your mind. You recalled those days you’d opened the door so many times, the same anxiety in your heart, hoping to find Yixing there, waiting for you. The anxiety you’d felt earlier returned with full force, pressing down against your chest. As the door slid slowly, the sudden urge to turn and leave overcame you. Your body tensed as the room came into focus. It was empty.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. Where was he? Where could he have gone? Was he held up at the dorm? Was  he having problems with the company’s policy again? Or perhaps he left? Perhaps he had really left this time. Perhaps, as you stood there right at that moment, he stood hundreds of miles away, in China, far beyond your grasp. Perhaps he was gone for good this time.

You stepped shakily into the studio, turning your head either way as if he might have been hiding from you. The same cold abandoned atmosphere suffocated the room as before. Your eyes searched frantically throughout the bare room, in search of something, anything, familiar. Why had everything seemed so new? You turned your head to the table as a shining silver surface caught your eye. You dropped your bag numbly on the floor, walking over the the stereo as you had done so many times before. His iPod sat in the dock, silently as if it were a long forgotten object, collecting dust in the attic. You felt your shoulders lighten in relief. The large weight of unnameable anxiety lifted from your body. At least it was there. He wouldn’t be away as long as he had before. The iPod had as good as guaranteed that.

 Yet your breath still arrived in choppy intervals. Your chest felt tight, as if there were hardly enough air in the room to keep you alive.

The silence was doing little to help the incessant thoughts going through your mind. You needed distraction. Taking his iPod in hand, you selected a song at random. A slow piano melody reverberated off the walls, filling the room. You closed your eyes as you listened. A gentle smile played across the corners of your lips. Even his music molded perfectly with his personality; Strong, powerful, passionate, yet tender and fleeting. You steadily began to move your arms and legs along with the music, attempting to mirror the passion of the notes, the airiness of the voice, the ethereal quality of the melody.  You willed your mind to control your frail limbs with all your might, instructing them to turn  this way and that, with as much fluidity as a human body could manage. As you danced, you became incredibly aware of your surroundings. From the sturdy gray substance of the table, to the metal of the speakers, to the very air you breathed in. Everything felt so alive. You closed your eyes. For once, you didn’t need to  observe your reflection in the mirror. You didn’t need to distract yourself with the wide skyline of Seoul. Only one image remained in your head as you glided across the waxed floors; you focused on the image, willing it to come to life, to stand beside you, to take your hand and pull you into it’s pace. If you could just dance a bit longer, if you could just push a little harder, you were nearly there…

Your eyes fluttered open instinctivly as a faint sound fought through the melody of the music to reach your ears. Your feet came to a slow stop, your arms falling lightly to your sides. Your body ached with sore muscles. You hadn’t realized how long you’d been dancing. You looked out the window. The sun had set. Slowly, you approached the thick glass, looking down to the streets of the city. A crowd of people stood on the sidewalk just in front of the studio. You furrowed your brow in curiosity as you craned your neck to get a better look. Hundreds of people squirmed in front of the building, like ants gathering by a crumb of wheat. What was going on? The sound of their screaming reached your ears again, stifled by the glass of the window. The familiar feeling on uneasiness returned to your stomach. Quickly, you turned from the window, running into the the small hallway. As you entered the elevator, you pressed your finger against the silver “1” before jabbing it against the button to close the doors. With a painfully slow pace, the doors slid shut, as the elevator began moving steadily down.

23, 22

You bit your lip as you crossed your arms over each other, your fingers fidgeting nervously. Had the building always been this cold?

17, 16

You tapped your foot rapidly against the carpeted floor. Your throat felt tight as a thousand scenarios went through your head.

10, 9

Your heart began to pound as you fought back the urge to tear the doors open.

2, 1.

You slid through the small crack of the doors and ran towards the entrance. From this level, it seemed as if there were even more people gathering. You spotted Eunhee clawing her way through a collection of girls, jumping up and down to get a better look. You could barely see above them all. Where was he?

You ran to the door, standing on your toes to search. There, in the middle of the mob, stood Yixing, unable to move between the flock of people surround him. His hair was a mess, his clothes very nearly ripped apart, as he attempted to make his way out. Your lungs clenched, as if you were the one being suffocated. You turned towards the service desk. It was empty. Where was the security guard? Where were the police? Your fingers clutched the handle of the door, pushing and pulling to no avail. You looked down to see it locked. With shaking fingers, you quickly turned the golden lock, pulling the door open. Without a second thought, you pushed your way into the crowd, calling out for Yixing. How could this have happened? How could his company have allowed it? How could his fans have allowed it? Strangely enough, as you pushed through the crowd, Eunhee’s words echoed once again in your mind.

What gives you the right to keep him to yourself?

For a fleeting moment, you caught sight of Yixing. With all your strength, you called out his name. You could have sworn he heard you. You could have sworn he saw you. You could have sworn he called out your name as well. Yet before you could do anything, a tight, bony grip caught your shoulder, pulling you away.

"What are you doing?!"

A shrill voice screeched into your ear. “You had your chance in that stupid studio! Go away! We’re his fans! We have a right to see him!”

With one more swift shove, Eunhee pulled you back into the swarm of girls. You felt your ankle twist as you lost your balance. You moaned in pain as a tear began to blur your vision. Several hands grabbed your shoulders, your arms, your shirt, pushing you back. You tried to grab onto someone to regain your balance, searching for something, anything to keep you from falling. Yet every shirt you’d gotten a hold of quickly slipped your fingers. Every shoulder you caught in your grip shrugged you off. Every arm you held onto, pleading for help, shoved you back. You shut your eyes tightly as you felt your body lose balance. You fell hard against the cement. Your back arched as  the electrifying pain cut your breath, your leg lay stiff and contorted against the rough street. Your eyes blurred with tears, yet two bright lights remained visible, drawing closer and closer. In a split second, you realized what was to come. You opened your mouth. You couldn’t hear your screams. You couldn’t hear the screams of the fans. You couldn’t hear the car. The only thing you heard, the only thing you saw, was the loud ringing of those two bright lights.