“Are you okay?” Jongin asked when he walked into the dorm and saw Baekhyun staring into space.

The boy in question flinched at the sudden noise and blinked in surprise before scowling. “Knock before you walk in, you .”

“This is my room too, you ,” Jongin mimicked. He grabbed a cracker from their pile of monthly rations and settled into his cot. “So, what were you daydreaming about this time?” he asked with a smirk.

“Stuff.”

“Wow, such a detailed explanation,” the tanner boy replied sarcastically.

“Stop prying.”

“Are you sure it didn't have anything to do with a certain Cleaner?” Jongin continued, ignoring the order.

Baekhyun sat up with a sigh to glare at his friend. “Why do you always bring him up?”

“'Cause I'm pretty sure he likes you and . . .” Jongin rolled onto his side. “You're blushing! Aww,” he cooed.

“ you. I don't like him and I'm pretty sure he doesn't like me.” He laid back down and with closed eyes, he muttered, “Next time, we're going to talk about you and Twelve and how Sehun's jealous.”

“Sehun's not jealous!”

Baekhyun grinned when Jongin didn't go on to protest his statement about Twelve and fell asleep in a light mood.

~ ~ ~

His dream was shades of fusia, illuminated by a single candle in the back of Baekhyun's mind. He wandered aimlessly, guided by nothing but an ethereal and angelic voice. The song was wordless and almost tuneless, but the melody floated into his ears and carried him off. Gradually, the world brightened bit by bit, a light pink pulsing from the center. The cheery color revealed a piano and he found himself in Yixing's room.

He glided to the seat, still cushioned by the music, and sat down. Placing his hands on the ivory and ebony keys, he began to play and Yixing appeared besides him. As he played, his worries streamed out from his heart through his fingers and were absorbed by the wood, taking them far, far away. He felt so light, without a care in the world. Someone told a joke and they laughed and laughed. The piano and the voice joined in a duet, harmonizing, and the song crescendoed to a .

But suddenly, there was a grand pause- an abrupt caesura- and dread tingled at the edges of Baekhyun's mind. The silence was tangible and dark, taking the shape of a shapeless monster. It crept towards them and devoured Yixing slowly and then all at once. Baekhyun screamed, voiceless in the vacuum, as hands grasped at him and dragged him away.

The darkness cleared to a dirty gray. He was in a warehouse again and in this dream-turned-nightmare, he panicked. He ran, trying to find a way out, but there were no doors and no walls and really, there was nothing.

Nothing at all, except a hand that reached for him, pinned him down effortlessly.

And a needle- black ink- prick- pain-

~ ~ ~

“! !” He woke up gasping, spewing obscenities. Jongin's face loomed in his vision. “Why are you so ing close to me?” he yelped.

Jongin, seeing that Baekhyun was okay now, backed off. “Did you have a nightmare again?” he tried asking in the most offhanded way possible.

Baekhyun thought back to those scenes his messed up brain had created. “I dreamed of an Elite.” It wasn't a lie and it wasn't a joke, but Jongin laughed so he went with it.

“Well, then. Get up and get ready for those Elites.”

~  ~ ~

“Baekhyun. Baekhyun!”

“Huh?” He flinched and realized Yixing was staring at him worriedly. “Sorry.”

“Did something happen today? You seem very out of it.”

If it was any other time, Baekhyun might have laughed at that because Yixing was always in a daze, but the nightmare had unsettled him for some reason. “I had a bad dream,” he said, going with the truth.

“Ah,” Yixing said sympathetically. He looked at Baekhyun for a beat longer.

“What?”

He smiled. “You keep rubbing the back of your neck.”

Why are you smiling like that, Baekhyun wanted to ask. “Well, yeah,” he said.

“Do you have something there? Because when I'm nervous, I always rub this birthmark that I-”

“What do you mean 'do you have something there'?” Is he being serious?

“Huh?” Yixing asked. Confusion filled his eyes.

“Yes, I have something there. Do you want to see?”

Baekhyun impulsively grabbed Yixing's hand and brought it to the spot under his ear. Yixing's fingers landed lightly on the raised 100 and he pulled away quickly with a gasp.

“What-is that-that's a tattoo . . . right?”

“It's a brand,” Baekhyun spat. “So we always remember what we are and so when we die, it'll be easier for record-keeping.”

“What? I didn't know. I- I- no one ever told me.”

Baekhyun could barely contain his sudden anger. Why was it that the Elites could inflict so much pain but not even know? “Then, do you want me to tell you? I can tell you everything about our life.” He didn't wait for an answer because he was just so ing pissed and he wanted to make this Elite understand.

“When a Numbered becomes of age, the Government locks them in the Birthing Dorm with a random partner until the girl gets pregnant. Then they're forced to leave and a Guard takes the baby instead. When they turn two, they're taken and locked up in a hole that you Elites call an orphanage. They're hardly ever allowed outside and they just sit there, wasting their childhood, while the Guards start teaching them about their place in society. How they exist to serve the Elites and how they don't have a name, but it's okay! Because names aren't ing important.

“Some guy comes every now and then, and if he thinks you're a worthy replacement, you get dragged away to be branded so you can forever remember what number you are. And to remember that you're only a number and not even the only one who had that because numbers are recyclable. Then you get thrown into your new dorm and you start training for five years where you learn just how you can serve the Elites. And we get to experience everything! Even all the different types of Punishment for everything we can do wrong. Did you know we can get up to 50 lashes just for looking at an Elite the wrong way? And then we go off to work and we never get to experience that peaceful old age that you all look forward to, because we never get enough food and medicine and safety and we work until we ing die.”

He stared at Yixing who was gaping at him, horrified and terrified. To be honest, he felt a little bad because Yixing was nothing like the other Elites, but . . .

“I'm sorry.”

“I don't need your pity,” he replied instinctively.

Yixing looked even more flustered. “No. I know you don't and I'm not pitying you. But I really am sorry.” He took a deep breath, as if he was trying to process it all. “I'm a musician. I can make music all day, doing something I love for a living. But I have friends who complain about their jobs and are never . . . satisfied, but it was their choice. They had a choice, right? But they're taking it for granted. And I can't believe no one ever talks about this. It-it's . . . Why don't you hate me? I'm the embodiment of society's injustice to you. You should hate me.”

“I did,” Baekhyun admitted. “But you were too different and you kept hiring me, so I was too busy being confused," he said, awkwardly trying to lighten the mood.

As they sat in silence, the adrenaline from his outburst died down and he felt exposed and self-conscious. “Umm . . .”

“I feel like I'm responsible, so I'm going to take responsibility,” Yixing finally said.

“What.”

“I know I can't really do much to change anything, but maybe if I can help you, at least your life won't as much.” The Elite looked at the Entertainer and smiled tentatively.

“Uh . . . o-okay,” Baekhyun stammered out. He was feeling flustered again because he had expected Yixing to agree that the society structure was ed up and move on from the topic, but of course that didn't happen. “But what are you going to do?”

“Don't know yet.” Yixing shrugged as if it was no big deal that he had declared that he would try to change Baekhyun's life but had no clue how to go about doing so.

“Okay.”

“Wait! I thought of something, but I'm not sure if it would work . . .”

♔ A  u  t  h  o  r  '  s    N  o  t  e ♔

something's happening soon ^_^

Also, I'll try to have some Chanyeol in the next chapter.