"Did you hear, Kai oppa has a girlfriend?"

"No way, that’s definitely impossible. With his schedule, how could he?"

"Are you saying you wouldn’t accept him like this?"

"Of course I would! I wouldn’t even blink! But anyways, it’s probably not true."

"Well if it is or isn’t, I’m going to ask him today."

"Hana!" You pointed a finger to the back of the room, "Focus on your plié. Your legs are too close together."

The group of girls turned their attention to you, the chatter of gossip falling silent. The shortest of the three, Hana, let out a sigh as she whined, “Seongsaenim, I can’t bend any further. We’ve been doing this set for an hour!”

You shrugged, smiling bitterly at the group, “You wouldn’t have to if you showed up for class last week.”

The girls erupted in a cacophony of groans. “But the fan meet is in two hours! Can’t we leave early, just for today?”

You crossed your arms and breathed a sigh as the girls continued to whine. A clatter of footsteps resounded from behind you as the chime of the front door’s bell rung throughout the room. You turned to see a thin, middle aged man approaching. His graying hair was tied behind his neck, his distant eyes wandering around the room, as if recalling an old memory.   You bowed respectfully.

"Annyeonghaseyo, manager-ssi."

The owner glanced at you for an instant, before turning his attention elsewhere. “______-ah, it’s been a while since I’ve visited this studio.”

You nodded, following his gaze as he inspected the room once more. Indeed, it had been quite some time since you’d last seen the owner. After leaving the 24th floor, his presence in your life had slowly faded, becoming nothing but a fond memory of an old friend. It wasn’t until six months had passed that he’d rediscovered you, as fate would have it, at another performance. He’d approached you with the request of becoming an instructor under his employment, an offer which you eagerly accepted. It wasn’t soon after that the mysterious man once again vanished.

"You’ve kept it in good condition." He commented, his voice droning as usual. "How are the classes?"

"Ahjusshi!!!" Hana whined from the back of the room.

You turned to face her as she approached the strange man, her lips pouting petulantly. “Ahjusshi, can we leave early today? There’s a fan meet downtown, we promise we’ll make up the hours next week! Pleeeease!”

The man looked down at the middle schooler, as if staring at an alien. His shoulders hung limply in a shrug. “Go.”

The girl squealed with delight, along with her friends. The group scurried to the cubbies in the corner, retrieving their backpacks. You turned your attention back to the owner, interrogating his whereabouts as the girls continued to chatter amongst themselves.

"I can’t wait to see Kai oppa!"

"Do you think we’ll have time to change before we go?"

"Forget about Kai oppa! The Chinese members are going to be here, finally!"

"Kris oppa must be so tall in real life!"

"And Lay oppa! I hope he dances for us!"

You felt your breathe catch in your lungs as you instinctively turned to the group. “Yixing?”

Your heart throbbed at the sound of his name. You unconsciously put a hand to your chest, clutching at the thin fabric of your shirt. One of the older girls turned to you. “Neh. You know him, Seongsaenim?”

You cleared your throat, shaking your head quickly, “No, no, I just-“

"Are you a fan of Exo too, Seongsaenim?" Hana chimed in, tossing her rucksack over her shoulders. "You should come to the signing with us."

You shook your hands in protest, “No, I’m fine. The name was just familiar.”

You scratched your ear nervously, looking at the floor. Hana shrugged, following the rest of the girls as they made their way out of the studio. “Suit yourself. I’ll get you an autograph!”

You smiled waving goodbye as the room fell silent.

"Lay?" the owner put a finger to his mouth pensively, his eyes staring off into the distance, "Wasn’t that the boy you asked about before?"

You shook your head, crossing your arms over your torso. The old man shrugged, his mind quickly wandering elsewhere.

"What did you come here for, Manager-ssi?" you asked, "Is something wrong?"

He shook his head, dragging himself around the room, inspecting the mirrors against the wall as he droned on, “I just thought you should know, I’m selling the old studio.”

Your eyes widened, following him as he continued, “It’s not getting any business, and I’ve received a generous offer for it. I know you don’t visit anymore, but I thought you might like to know.”

He reached in his pocket and retrieved a small brass key, holding it out to you.”Take it.”

You held out your hand as he dropped the key into your palm. “If you decide to visit, you’ll have to use the key to get in.”

He turned his back to you, gliding towards the door as he called back, “Either way, just leave it by the door on your way home. I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

You looked down at the key, clutched between your thin fingers as the chime of the door rung once again.

*******************

The air smelled of crisp, fresh wind as the city slowly ushered in the Autumn days. The sky was clear, with not but a few small clouds in sight. You bundled your scarf tighter around your neck as a brisk breeze danced by, tangling in your hair. The steady click clack of your boots against the cement created a rhythm with the wind. You looked up at the heavens, watching as a fluff of white drifted lazily over the sun. The road was rather empty, despite the rush hour, making the street just a bit lonely.

As you continued to walk, the familiar silhouette of the old office building drew closer, becoming clearer and clearer to your vision. Although it had only been two years, the building had seemed to age greatly. The stones were yellowing. The glass windows were streaked from lack of care. Even the parking meter on the sidewalk seemed to tip over as if falling asleep. Still, despite the antiquity of the structure, the building maintained it’s tall figure, standing proudly above the lesser buildings surrounding it. You approached the door, your steps faltering as you came to a stop.

You shifted between your feet, hesitant to go inside. Did you really want to see that room again? To feel that cool air? To hear the silent florescents? To remember those last moments? You pulled the key from your pocket, turning it over in your hand as another cold breeze blew by. You glanced down the road. The local convention center was just a block or two away. Only five minutes by foot. Even from this distance, you could see the search lights illuminating the sky with two thick beams of blue light.  Your breathing shallowed as your heart constricted. Surely, that’s where he was…

You shook your head, erasing the idea from your mind. You turned back to the office building, wrapping your slender fingers around the rusted gold handle of the door. With one firm pull, the glass came ajar, allowing you to slip inside. The hall was warm and well lit, the yellow lights shining down on the waxed marble. You stuffed your hands in your sweater pockets, making your way to the elevator. A heavy silence burdened the air, as if the building had been completely abandoned. You stepped into the elevator, quickly shutting the door to ease the atmosphere.

5, 6, 7

You watched the glowing red numbers as they steadily increased.

11, 12, 13

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, listening to the hum of the little room moving upwards.

21, 22, 23

Ding! You opened your eyes, gripping the key inside your pocket. The doors slid open, a gust of air blowing into the elevator as you stepped into the narrow hallway of the 24th floor. The floor was silent. The carpet was frayed and dulled, as if washed too many times. The walls seemed to be freshly painted, giving the hall  the scent of a new home. You dragged your feet to the familiar wooden door. You took out the key, placing it in the lock fastened at the edge of the door. Strange, you’d never noticed the little keyhole before.

The door creaked as you slid it open. Your heart felt heavy as you took a reluctant step into the room. The studio was dark and smelled of wax. You fumbled around until you found the light switch.

Click

The florescents blinked on, as if waking up from a deep sleep. You dropped your bag by the door, your eyes wandering around the room. The mirrors on the wall were slightly streaked, and the silver poles were dulled with dust, but the room seemed otherwise unchanged. You stopped in the middle of the room, turning in circles to take in the whole studio. Your eyes rested on the old gray table situated in the corner. There, covered in a veil of dust sat the old stereo. You smiled fondly, recalling the many times you would enter the studio to find Yixing’s iPod still resting in the dock. You bent down, blowing the particles off the surface as you placed your phone in the dock. A rich melody filled the room, reverberating off the walls. You closed your eyes and breathed in a whiff of the pine wax, reveling in the familiar atmosphere. It was strange. The whole building seemed on the edge of collapsing, yet this room, this floor, felt exactly the same, like a childhood toy, tucked safely away in the closet, simply waiting for you to return and embrace it once more.

You walked over to the window lining the wall. You traced your fingers down the cool glass as you craned your neck to look outside. There, in the distance, just barely visible beneath the towering skyscrapers, was the dome of the convention center. Your heart skipped a beat. He was so close, just minutes away. What was he doing right now? Surely, he was with his bandmates. Tao and Luhan, Sehun and Baekhyun. With all the stories he told, you could hardly remember them all. Was he getting along well with them? Were his fans treating him kindly? Was he happy? You wanted to know. You rested your forehead against the glass as you continued to stare at the white dome. You could just go there… You could see him, if only for a moment, just to make sure he was fine…

You sighed. Of course you couldn’t. What if he saw you? What if one of his fans recognized you? In just a moment of selfishness, you could ruin so much for him. You turned to face the empty room as you rested your head against the window. He must have passed this road on his way to the convention center. You slid down, pulling your legs up to rest your chin on your knees. Did he still remember this place? It would have been nice if he did. You gazed across the room, a flurry of memories encompassing your mind. You smiled softly. What if he were here right now? What would you say?

You closed your eyes, burying your head in your knees. You would tell him you missed him. You would ask him how he is doing and if he is happy. You would tell him how you were working for manager-ssi. You would tell him how, with this job, you were able to dance again. It isn’t the same as before, you would say, but it’s more than you could have asked for. You would ask him if his dream is like he thought it would be. You would ask if he’d met anyone new, and if he loved them. You would lie when he asked you the same thing, and say you had as well. You would say you cared for that person very well. You would tell him how even then, you couldn’t say you loved them. Not the way you had loved him, at least. Then you would ask him again if he was happy. You really hoped he was.

****************************

"Miss?"

Yixing?

A warm hand cupped your shoulder, shaking you gently. No. His hands were always cold.

"Miss, wake up!"

Your eyes creaked open, squinting at the light.

"I remember you." the voice mused, "Weren’t you the young lady that practiced here?"

You sat up, rubbing your eyes. “Ahjusshi?”

The old janitor nodded. “You shouldn’t fall asleep on the floor, Miss. You’ll hurt your back.”

You looked out the window. The skyscrapers glistened with lights, blinking on and off against the thick veil of the night sky. Your eyes widened as you gasped, “What time is it?”

You stumbled to your feet. The old man replied, “Almost eleven.”

You bowed as low as you could, your hair falling in cascades around you. “Jwesonghamnida, Ahjusshi.”

You stood up. “I was just-“

"I know, I know." he put a hand up to calm you, "The owner told me someone might be here."

You gave him a small smile, running a hand through you hair. “Jwesonghamnida. I’ll pack up now.”

He nodded, turning to exit the room. “It’s ok. I’ll be back after I clean upstairs.”

"Okay." you bowed, although he couldn’t see. "Kamsahamnida."

The door slid shut behind him, leaving you alone, the quiet tune of your playlist humming through the room. You breathed a heavy sigh, turning to look out the window. A few small droplets of water slid down the glass. Strange, there was barely a cloud in the sky earlier. You put a hand to the glass, the cold surface immediately cooling your fingertips. The rain was fairly heavy, although only a few drops collided with the pane. Your eyes wandered to the edge of the glass, searching for the white dome between the colossal buildings. The search lights were no longer on, leaving the building just barely visible beneath the darkness. The signing must have been over by now. You took a deep breath, your heart heavy within your chest as you exhaled. The sound of the door sliding open disrupted the seamless melody of the music.

"Ah, Jwesonghamnida, Ahjusshi." You turned to bow to him, "I’ll-"

Your words were cut off, your breath out of your lungs as your eyes rested on the figure beneath the door frame. His navy shirt, almost black with the weight of rain, clung to his chest and shoulders. His hair, now painted a frosty copper hung over his eyes, dripping against his lashes. His vivid amber eyes, as wide as a doe’s, stared through you.

Your heart felt as if it were made of iron, causing your legs to shake beneath the weight. You grew dizzy as a film of tears blurred your vision. You blinked rapidly, fighting them back.

"Yixing?" your voice shook as you said the name.

The figure didn’t respond, but instead, continued to stare, his eyes widening even more. As you looked into them, they seemed to mirror the emotion in your own. But what was it they portrayed? Joy? Disbelief? Sorrow? Love?

You took a step closer to the figure, curving your lips upwards forcefully. Were you smiling? You couldn’t feel it. You breathed a hollow laugh, “Hey.”

Finally, the figure spoke, ensuring you he wasn’t just a mirage.

"H-hey."

His voice was quiet, nothing but a collection of shallow breaths, yet it still seemed to resonate through room. You felt your heart tremble within the chamber of your chest at the sound of it. You pulled your lips apart, willing your smile to grow. A tear escaped your eyes. You quickly wiped it away. Yixing took a step forward, the gap between you growing just that much smaller.

"I-" you in a breath, composing yourself, "I can’t believe you’re here."

He nodded slowly. Another step forward.

"I saw the "for sale" sign on the door earlier." he mumbled, "I didn’t know…"

You shook your hand, “Don’t worry, it’s fine. I didn’t really know I was gonna be here either.”

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “The owner told me he was selling it tomorrow.”

Yixing nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he looked at the floor. An awkward silence thickened the atmosphere. You fiddled with your fingers, rocking back and forth on the heels of your shoes as your mind scrambled for something to say.

"I heard you were having a fan signing at the center down the road."

He hummed in affirmation. “It was to celebrate our second album.”

You nodded, “I was going to go. Just to walk by, you know, but I fell asleep here, and…”

Your voice trailed off as your eyes wandered throughout the room. Should you have told him? You felt your cheeks flush as you looked to the floor. You bit your lip and looked up at him, plastering a grin on your lips as you ran a hand through your hair.

"Anyways, how are you?"

He shrugged, “Okay, I guess.”

"That’s good. How are you bandmates?" you let out a hollow chuckle, "I hear Kai got himself a girlfriend?"

He scoffed, shaking his head. “It’s just rumors. Something like that,” he bit his lip, “It’s impossible.”

Your smile, if you could even call it that, faltered. “Right.”

He glanced up at you, his fringe falling over his eyes. “What about you?”

You felt your voice catch in your throat. You shrugged, turning your attention to the streaks on the mirror. “Me?”

He nodded. “How have you been doing?”

"I… teach dance classes now. Ballet for middle schoolers and stuff." Your voice was dry as you spoke, causing you to pause every now and then to clear your throat. "I work at the owner’s new studio, a few blocks away."

For the first time since you’d seen him at the door, Yixing smiled. His lips stretched, revealing his gleaming white teeth. His eyes curved into small crescents, very nearly disappearing beneath the folds of his eyelids. A single distinct dimple creased his cheek in a charming manner. You felt your heart skip a beat.

"I’m glad." he breathed a laugh. "You must be happy, _____-ah."

You felt your veins throb as your heart raced to keep up with you. Your eyes stung as another veil of tears threatened to make themselves shown. Happy? You thought back to earlier that day, in your new studio. What were you feeling then? The words ran through your mind. Gratitude, fulfillment, satisfaction, energy, even fatigue. But happiness? No. What you felt now was happiness. The pine scent of the floor. The quiet florescents. The hum of rain against the window pane. The aching in your chest as you knew it was all going to vanish. This was happiness. A sick, bittersweet feeling that, despite it’s everlasting pain later on, was worth it for the one second of pure undiluted joy you felt now.

"I guess so."

Yixing smiled faintly, his eyes not creasing a bit this time.

"That’s good." He looked to the floor, shuffling his feet nervously.

"Are you happy, Yixing- ah?”

His head shot up involuntarily. “What?”

You took a step closer. “Are you happy?”

His eyes flickered between yours, before looking away. “If I said yes, would you be satisfied?”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

He turned back to you, “If I said I was happy, would you be satisfied?”

You remained silent.Yixing caught your gaze, a tender look in his eyes.

"You were right before, _____-ah. This is my dream. Everyday when I go on stage and dance. And every time I hear all those people cheering for me… I really do need them, _______-ah. They’re more important to me than anything, almost."

His brow knit in frustration as he continued, his voice faltering, “But I I’m still not happy.”

He looked down at his feet, his thick lashes hiding his eyes in a dark brown fringe. “It’s selfish, isn’t it?”

"How? You can’t help it."

"It’s ok." He met your gaze. "I know it is."

Your eyes darted between his, a look of confusion lining your features.

"But it’s okay to be selfish sometimes, right?"

Your throat tightened at his words. Was he speaking about you? His eyes looked into yours earnestly. “You can’t put other people’s feelings before you all the time, right?”

You felt your cheeks burn as you looked away, crossing your arms over your chest, ignoring his question, “Why are you still unhappy, Yixing-ah?”

He bit his lip, taking a step back. “Because I miss you.”

You felt your heart throb as the words rung through the room. Your eyes stung with tears as you repeated the sentence in your head over again. How could something so simple bring so much joy to a person? He missed you. He thought of you. Even if it was only for a moment, you knew you were on his mind. Yet why did you still feel so heavy? What was burdening you so much? Your mind drifted to Eunhee, the car accident, the mob of fans pushing you away.

"Yixing." you bit your lip, searching for the words, "I…"

He watched as your features changed, your eyes growing dark, your skin growing cold and pale. He sighed in understanding, “But you won’t come with me, will you?”

You looked up at him desperately as he took another step back. He nodded, slumping his head to the floor as he mumbled, “It was nice seeing you, _______-ah.”

You watched as he his heel, his shoulders hung low, his hands stuffed into his pockets dejectedly. Your pulse seemed to slow with every step he took, growing quieter and quieter till you felt you couldn’t breathe. You thought back to the day you’d left him. Why had you turned away that day? You’d wanted him to fulfill his dream. You’d wanted him to learn to love his fans. You’d wanted others to love him as well. You’d wanted him to stop holding back because of you. As you watched him walk away now, had he not accomplished all these things?

He was fulfilled. He could love, and he was loved in return. And as you stood in the middle of the studio, he continued to walk away from with ease. Yet where were you? Yixing had learned to move, to go forward despite his unhappiness. You, on the other hand, remained frozen, unable to step forward, unable to move on, unable to do anything. Your mind scrambled for an excuse. What was it? What was it that was holding you back? What was it that was stopping you from going after what you wanted? Your mind was blank, but for one sentence, repeating over and over.

It’s okay to be selfish sometimes.

"Yixing-ah!" you called, your voice breaking.

He stopped mid step, just an inch from the door. He turned his head to face you. Your cheeks flushed crimson, your eyes clouded with a film of tears. You clutched the hem of your sweater, looking up at him pleadingly. There was no reason to hold back anymore. There was no one to please, no one to console, no one to sacrifice for. It was okay to be selfish.

"Can I come with you?"

Yixing’s eyes widened in surprise as he turned, taking a step forward. You hurriedly ran to his side, wrapping your arms around his torso, clutching at the cold, wet fabric of his shirt. A cool hand found it’s way to your head, running it’s fingers through your hair. His other arm held you by the waist, holding you up as your knees trembled.

”________-ah?”

You pulled away just enough to embrace his lips. They felt warm against yours, despite the cold touch of his skin. He returned the kiss, the sweet flavor of his lips causing your knees to weaken even more. You felt your skin tingle as he moved his hand to your cheek, cupping your face in the palm of his hand. Your body felt light, as though if you didn’t hold onto him, you would float away. Your heart beat erratically within your chest. Your hands felt warm as he reached for them. You felt a tear run down your cheek. Your lips curved up in a smile. You felt as though you were going to die. This. This was happiness. That wonderful, euphoric feeling that, despite it’s sometimes painful journey, was worth it for the one second of pure undiluted joy you felt now.