Sehun rested his chin in his hands.

The sky outside the window was a wistful, cloudless blue. Someone had described it to him once as heartbreaking. Heartbreakingly blue. Sehun thought of Luhan and agreed with the adjective.

Heartbreaking, indeed.

“Sehun, you’re spacing out again.”

Sehun blinked and turned towards Jongin, frowning. “What?”

“You were spacing out. I asked if you wanted to go to the beach with me and Kyungsoo.”

It was the beginning of June. Sehun, Jongin, and the rest of their class had just finished their junior year of high school, and the two friends were eating lunch at their favorite café, enjoying the fact that they had absolutely nothing to do. 

“No, I don’t think so,” Sehun said with a sigh.

“Why not?”

“Hey, come on, I’m being a good wingman and giving you two lovebirds some space.”

Jongin flushed red. “Sehun!”

“Oh, don’t get all defensive. I am very observant, contrary to popular belief, and I see the way you look at Kyungsoo so I’m not going. That, and I’m currently having an existential crisis.”

Jongin blinked. “An existential crisis?”

“Yep. I mean, we just finished our junior year of high school. We only have one year left, then we’ll all be leaving, going off to different colleges and universities, finding our way in the world or some bull. And this little town where we grew up will be just a memory.” Sehun shuddered. “Existential crisis, ahoy.”

“Thanks for depressing me, Sehun.”

“You’re welcome. Now maybe you should go confess to Kyungsoo before he decides to go to a different University and you never see him again.”

“He doesn’t feel that way about me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s stupid to even suggest that he does.”

“You’re stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

Sehun rolled his eyes. “We’re getting nowhere.”

“Probably because you’re stupid.” Jongin gave him a look. “By the way, I heard that Luhan is back.”

“… Yeah.”

“Are you going to go see him?”

Sehun hesitated. He thought of Luhan’s smile and hesitated some more. “We weren’t really that close when he left.”

“So? I’m sure he’d like to see a familiar face.”

“Whatever.”

Jongin just sighed and finished off the last of his sandwhich. “I need to go. I have an interview soon.”

“Interview?”

“Yeah, for a summer job.”

“Oh, right.” Sehun plopped his chin down in his hands again. “I need to get one of those.”

“Like anyone would hire you.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. See you later, Sehun.” Jongin paused as he stood, frowning. “And Sehun?”

“Yeah.”

“Go see Luhan.”

He left without another word and Sehun returned to staring out the window, thinking about the blue of the sky and the intoxicating smell of summer and Luhan.

Always Luhan.

Luhan still wasn’t used to waking up in his old house.

Every morning when he woke up, he’d lay in bed for a while and stare at the ceiling, remembering. His mother—adoptive mother, he kept telling himself—used to come wake him up in the mornings, smiling as she rambled on about what her day had in store. She’d make Luhan breakfast, always something over-the-top, and then kiss his cheek as he left for school.

He’d been happy with her. Content.

Luhan sighed and got out of bed, rubbing his face. It was almost eight. He had to be at work in an hour. Running his hands through his messy hair, Luhan decided to tend to his appearance before his empty stomach and headed into the bathroom. Showers were nice. Hot showers, especially. Even though Luhan knew he was short on time, he took a moment to just lean back into the hot water and let it work out the tenseness in his shoulders.

By the time he’d gotten ready, it was too late to sit down and eat. He grabbed a protein bar on his way out and ate it as he caught the bus to work.

Luhan didn’t like growing up.

He was twenty-three. He should have had his life in order, according to all the other adults he’d met while he was away, but there he was, sitting in a backwater computer repair shop in his old hometown with monsters in his head. 

Sometimes he felt grown up, when he paid his bills or did his taxes or repaired computers the locals brought in. Other times he felt like a child, like when he sat on the window seat in his room and thought of his mother—of how that word had come to mean something more than just what he’d called the woman who had raised him.

You shouldn’t be alive.

And Luhan would wipe at his eyes, frustrated with himself, and feel like a child.

Business was slow, but that was normal. His usual clientel consisted of the younger crowd, kids and teenagers who were having problems with their iPhones or laptops and didn’t know enough to fix them themselves. Luhan made sure to give students discounts; he knew how tough it was to be in that position.

Sighing heavily, Luhan leaned back in his chair and wished he had something to do.

The bell above the door suddenly jingled, jerking him out of his thoughts, and a familiar face walked in holding a laptop case. He paused when he saw Luhan, his eyes lighting up. 

“Sehun?” Luhan managed a small smile. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

Sehun grinned and gave a little shrug. “That’s what happens when you leave for two years, Lu.”

“Yeah.” Luhan didn’t want to think about leaving. He didn’t want to think about returning to an empty house and going static. “So, um, what brings you here? Just coming to say hi?”

Sehun faltered a little, holding up the case in his hand. “I, uh, I have a bit of a problem with my laptop. Nothing major.”

“Let me see it.”

Sehun put the case up on the counter, ping it so he could pull out the shiny laptop within. It was a nice one. It looked new, too.

“How long have you had this?”

“Just a few months,” Sehun answered. “My old one was near to dying, and I needed a new one for school.”

“And what’s the problem with this one?”

“Some of the keys broke off and I don’t know how to get them back on.” Sehun held up a Ziploc bag. Inside were a few computer keys—the K, M, and T, respectively.

“How did that happen?”

Sehun shrugged, looking uncomfortable. “I think my little brother was messing with it.”

Luhan took the Ziploc bag and opened the laptop, glancing at the keyboard. “Well, it does look like someone pulled these off forcibly, but it shouldn’t be a problem getting them back on. Do you want to leave this with me and just come back when I’m done?”

Sehun hesitated. “How long will it take?”

“Oh, maybe twenty minutes. But if you have something better to do, you don’t have to stay.”

“I don’t.”

Luhan blinked. “Okay.” He liked the idea of having someone there anyway, someone who wouldn’t let his thoughts wander off into dangerous territory. “So, I bet a lot happened in the past two years, right? Mind catching me up?”

Sehun looked more than happy to. “Well, I got into the Honors program at my school, finished my junior year, and joined a few other clubs here and there. Not much, really. Oh, we did just recently get a whole bunch of foreigners settling down in the town.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. This one Chinese guy, I think his name is Zitao, just finished his junior year too. I heard he got straight As even though he started halfway through the term.”

“That’s impressive.”

“I know, right?” Sehun grinned. “He’s kind of creepy, though, this Zitao guy. He does martial arts, he’s really tall, he seems like he could kick anyone’s without breaking a sweat, and he wears a rather obscene amount of black.”

Luhan chuckled as he fit the T key back on Sehun’s keyboard. “You said he was Chinese?”

“Yeah. He speaks really good Korean, though.”

“Hmm.” Luhan checked to make sure the T was on right before getting started on the next letter. “You said a whole bunch of foreigners recently moved in. Who were the others?”

“Well, discounting you—since you grew up here and don’t really count as foreign even though you’re Chinese—there is this really quiet guy who runs a ramen stand on main street. I don’t remember his name, but I heard that he’s Chinese-Canadian.”

“That’s quite a mix.”

“Really, though. I’ve never spoken to him, but Chanyeol buys his ramen every once in a while. He says it’s good. I think he’s just using it as an excuse to flirt.”

“Does Chanyeol have a crush on a Chinese-Canadian guy who runs a ramen stand?”

“A huge one,” Sehun said, laughing. “It’s really pathetic sometimes, actually.”

“Anyone else?”

“Oh, yeah. Another Chinese guy who’s name is Yi-something. I can’t remember. Anyway, he lives in that old house by the market. The one that’s been empty for a few years, remember?”

“Wasn’t that the one everyone said was haunted?”

“Yep. I dared Jongin to go in last year, but he wouldn’t. Then suddenly this Yi-guy shows up, says he inherited the house from his grandparents, and moved in. It was all really weird so the police looked in on it, but everything apparently checked out.”

“Weird.” Luhan focused on the next key. The M. It looked like it had been pulled off with quite a bit of force, but it went back on easily enough. 

“Oh, there’s this one guy who moved here a few months ago named Joonmyun, but he’s Korean. He works at the grocery store down the street. Jongdae says he’s really nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh. Oh, and Minseok’s back, visiting for the summer.”

That gave Luhan pause. “Minseok is?”

“Yeah. I haven’t gotten a chance to see him yet, but I heard he’s doing well from Jongin. They ran into each other in the library.”

“Huh.” That was odd. Minseok had graduated high school before Luhan. When he’d left for University, he’d sworn that he would never return, so why was he back now?

“Everyone else is doing fine, by the way,” Sehun continued, oblivious to Luhan’s wandering thoughts. “Jongin joined a dance team and is amazing. Kyungsoo still follows him around like a puppy—which Jongin still hasn’t noticed.”

“Still?” Luhan shook his head sadly. “They’re both so stupid.”

“I know, I know. I tried to convince Jongin to confess today, but he doesn’t think Kyungsoo feels the same.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. Um, let’s see, what else … Oh, Jongdae is doing well. Like I said, he works at the grocery store down the street. He’s saving up for University. Chanyeol got a part-time job as a mailman. You should throw things at him if you see him riding down the street on his stupid bike.”

Luhan laughed. “I think he might press charges if I do that.”

“Chanyeol? Never. He’s like a puppy. You step on his tail and he’ll still love you.”

“That’s the most accurate description of Chanyeol ever.”

“Thank you.” Sehun seemed a lot more at ease now, leaning over the counter as Luhan fit the last key on. “Baekhyun is a lovestruck little teenager, but he refuses to admit it.”

“Lovestruck?”

“Remember that creepy Chinese guy I mentioned earlier? Zitao?”

“No way.”

“Yes way. Baekhyun thinks he’s cool. He keeps trying to tell us that he just wants to be Zitao’s friend, but we can see through him. I mean, Baekhyun’s probably the gayest thing to walk this planet. It’s stupidly obvious the way he looks at the Zitao kid.”

“That’s kind of depressing.” Luhan got the last key on and smiled, satisfied. “Okay, almost done. Let me just check and make sure everything works.” He powered up the laptop, absently drumming his fingers on the counter as he waited. “Any other changes?”

Sehun put a finger to his chin. “No others I can really think of. Well, actually, the beach reopened.”

“Really?” Luhan tried to log in, but Sehun’s account was password protected. “Oh, I need your password.”

Quickly—too quickly—Sehun grabbed the laptop and turned it toward him, typing in the password and logging in before Luhan could protest.

“Uh.” Luhan stared. “Were any of the letters that had been pulled off in your password?”

Sehun blushed. “No.”

“Okay … um, anyway, you were saying the beach reopened?”

“Y-yeah, right. You know, it was closed for a few years because of insufficient funds, but lately we’ve been getting more tourists than usual, so it was able to reopen. We’re all really excited.”

“I bet.” All the keys on Sehun’s laptop seemed to be working fine, so Luhan smiled and handed it back to him. “You’re good to go.”

Sehun smiled. “Thanks. How much?”

“That one was on the house.”

“No, I couldn’t do that—”

“It’s fine,” Luhan cut him off. “Really.”

Sehun hesitated a moment longer, seemingly ready to protest again, only to sigh and shake his head in defeat. “If you say so. Thanks, Lu.”

“Anytime.”

Sehun walked out the door, and Luhan found himself wishing he’d stay.