Chapter Two

     The moment the final bell of the day sounded, Baekhyun was already halfway out of the building, winding through the mass of people with his head down and movements precise.  His legs moved swiftly as they carried him across the paved sidewalks and well-kept lawns of the courtyard, through the gated brick wall that surrounded the campus and out to the small student lot on the south end.  He quickened his pace, shifting the bag on his shoulder and pulling out a glimmering set of silver car keys.  His vehicle sat where he left it hours before, where he always parked it in the mornings.

     Baekhyun popped the door open on the small import.  It had seemed to be the envy of his classmates in the months since his nineteenth birthday, though he rarely noticed the difference between his car and some of the older models that were passed down to the students by their older siblings.  Baekhyun was always one for practicality more than anything else.  A car was a car, as long as it ran well and could get him from point A to point B, and even a new was 718 Cayman no exception to that rule.

     Instead of waiting as he normally would, Baekhyun shrugged off his school bag, throwing it in the backseat before buckling himself in.  The engine purred as he turned the key in the ignition.  Maybe there were some perks to having a newer vehicle, Baekhyun thought.  He smiled to himself as he pulled smoothly out of the parking lot.

     On any average day, he would have waited for Lu Han so the two could go somewhere together.  Sometimes it was to be productive.  They would spend hours sprawled out on Baekhyun's bed, with heavy textbooks strewn between them as they discussed council matters and the newest homework assignments.  But it was more often than not, he was willing to admit (to anyone outside of his parents or brother), that they spent the time doing any and everything besides thinking about school.  They had a shared interest in music, and there was that.  And sometimes they read manga or played games online or just did things you might actually expect from two teenage boys, while Lu Han gossiped to Baekhyun about things he would not otherwise have found out in his own little bubble of the world.  Then, when Lu Han went back home later that night, Baekhyun would actually begin on the work he promised he had been doing all along, and more often than not, he did feel guilty about it.

     But considering that it was a Friday, and prime time for drunken, negligent behavior, Lu Han went home alone, just to get ready for a party somewhere in the more money-saturated part of the city, where students still threw massive parties every weekend just to prove that they could, that people would flock to them because of their wealth, despite how they may have actually felt about them, and that no one, their parents or the police, could stop them. And it would undoubtedly be more enjoyable than Baekhyun's night out with his older brother.  Part of Baekhyun did wish that he could go - even if he didn't really enjoy drinking, or the antics of high schoolers with too much money to waste, let alone the stares and whispers he got for being there - but the other part of him had already accepted his lot in life.  Inebriated shenanigans were made for other people.  People that weren't born into a family like his, or were at least fortunate enough to escape them.  He tried not to feel bad about thinking that or even wanting it as he turned another corner, but it didn't really work.

     After only a few minutes, Baekhyun pulled through the towering steel gates situated in the front of his family's sprawling estate.  He shifted his car into park, eyes fixed on the blatantly empty drive in front of him, before gathering his bag and climbing out.  He stopped for a moment to look at the home he had grown up in, the maintained lawn, the perfectly sculpted hedges and trees, the vibrant, exotic flowers shaping every entrance and alcove.  It looked so... ideal on the outside, he thought with a self-deprecating laugh, and he didn't remember the last time he had actually thought about it as anything other than it just being what it was.  He couldn't remember ever feeling so bitter at the thought, or ever even feeling anything more than indifference once he had gotten older. Because it had always just been how it was, but now everything felt wrong.  Baekhyun shook the thought away before he could consider it any further and started towards the front door, locking the Porsche behind him.

     Baekhyun stopped just inside the foyer, taking in the abrupt silence that met him at the front door.  He shook his head slightly in disappointment, though he had already figured as much, as a small sigh made its way from his throat.

  "They must have already left," he muttered, swinging the bag higher up on his shoulder.

     Baekhyun knew not to get caught up in his emotions.  He absolutely knew that.  His parents were always out of the country, and it wasn't exactly uncommon for them not to tell him goodbye before they left or even to say nothing when they arrived home.  But Baekhyun couldn't help it, any more than he could help the anger he had begun to feel in the car on the drive home, or how he was sure he had felt nothing at all at some point during the day.  A small part of him still broke a little every time he returned home, his parents' suitcases missing and nothing but an empty echo to greet him.

     Baekhyun shrugged his uniform jacket off and placed it with his backpack at the foot of the stairs.  He pushed open the artisan double-doors to his left that led to a small hall, the home's spacious kitchen at the end.  It was where he spent most of his time outside of his room, helping the maids cook foreign foods that he always wanted to eat, even when he wasn't traveling, or making sugary pastries to curb his vicious sweet-tooth.  There was something comforting about the speckled stone counter tops, the dangling lights with ornamental glass covers placed strategically around rich mahogany cabinets.

     A small blue paper sat on the marble island near the sink now, stuck down haphazardly, as if an afterthought.  He reached for an apple from the glass bowl next to his hand before picking up the note, attempting to decipher the messy words scrawled across the middle.  It was a wonder his mother wasn't a doctor.  You would never be able to tell from her handwriting.

  "Left for Tokyo," he read aloud.  "We'll be home in a week."  And maybe that was better than nothing.

     Baekhyun crumpled up the paper, tossing it into the trash can before grabbing his things and continuing upstairs to his bedroom.  It had become almost like his own personal sanctuary over the years.  His parents rarely bothered him in his room, and even when his brother had lived at home, he had never actively sought Baekhyun out.  Living in their own quarters on the opposite side of the mansion, none of them even saw a reason to go near Baekhyun.

     After making the considerable trek upstairs, he quietly shut himself into the room, setting himself down on the edge of the bed.  He pulled his bag into his lap.  He assumed that there was still enough time to prepare for his tests before Yejun would come and drag him out for dinner, and since midterms were starting to come up, Baekhyun had grabbed practically every single book in his locker without looking at it.  It was only now that he noticed an unfamiliar composition notebook in the stack.  It looked enough like his own, without the perfectly flat cover and pages filled, one after another, in small, neat letters.  This one looked overused, with messy blotches of ink and curling pages, and when he opened it, Baekhyun noticed that the sheets weren't filled with notes at all.  They were lyrics.

  "Whose notebook is this?" Baekhyun mumbled to himself.  He sat quietly for a second, tapping his fingers gently against the binding, before roughly, stupidly, slapping a hand over his forehead.

  "I'm such an idiot."  He flopped down onto the mattress, studying long forgotten.

     Park Chanyeol.

     Baekhyun had been so nervous, so eager to get away from the boy that he didn't even bother to check which book he had given him.  Not that Baekhyun had even wanted to be away from him, at all, and now, as a result, Baekhyun had no science notes to study with for his test and no way of retrieving them before the end of the weekend.  On top of that, he would still have to find a way to talk to Chanyeol on Monday morning, just to apologize and give him his notebook back.  Lu Han was right.  Chanyeol did make Baekhyun feel something that no one else did.  Though he didn't want to say he liked him, because he most certainly did not know Park Chanyeol well enough for that, he didn't know what else to call it, either.  Baekhyun was often quiet or reserved in situations, but never flustered.  Never nervous.  It was just that deep, husky voice of his.  The soft looking lips.  His hands, his large, warm hands-

     Baekhyun's cellphone buzzed in his pocket suddenly.  He fished out the device, quickly dragging his finger across the touch screen, only to grimace once he actually saw the message.

[New message from Yejun]

I'll be there in five minutes.  Don't make me wait.

 

     Baekhyun eyed the screen in reluctance, his eyebrows pinching together in confusion.  It seemed early for Yejun to be picking him up, considering that he was supposed to spend the entire weekend with him.  Yejun always waited until later at night to come by, busying himself with work until he knew Baekhyun would already be in bed, thus limiting the amount of time that he had to spend with his little brother as much as possible.  It was like habit by now, and if there was anything Baekhyun was sure of, it was that Yejun didn't break habit.

     Nevertheless, Baekhyun stood, making his way towards the closet and pulling out a more casual outfit from one of the wardrobes lining the walls.  He didn't think he had seen Yejun wear a pair of jeans since he was in middle school. Always a suit or slacks, and even if it wasn't the same one he had worn to work that day, Baekhyun was sure it would be just as uncomfortable looking.  He chuckled to himself, pulling a pair of faded bootcuts up over the swell of his thighs, knowing just how much it would irritate Yejun.  He wondered, for a moment, what Lu Han would think of his newfound rebellious streak, even if it was such a simple thing as a pair of pants.

     He picked his wallet and phone up off of the dresser.  "Here goes nothing."


 

  "It's sort of early to eat dinner, isn't it?" Baekhyun asked once they were seated in the car, traveling down the streets of Seoul at a speed most wouldn't consider entirely safe.  With a nervous breath, he took his eyes off of Yejun and his reckless driving for a moment to glance down at his phone.  He tapped the screen, lighting it up and scanning for the time.  4:42 PM.

  "I promised Mother that we would go out.  I assume you know how to ask a servant for dinner," Yejun clipped, completely uninterested.

  "I thought you were staying over," Baekhyun questioned, directing his gaze to the way his brother frowned, gritting his teeth as his hands tightened around the steering wheel.

  "I have plans this weekend.  You're not a kid.  I don't need to babysit you."  Baekhyun flinched away from his brother's cross tone, before forcibly relaxing, settling his eyes on the dashboard instead.  He would never understand why spending time together was such a chore for Yejun.  Baekhyun didn't necessarily enjoy it, but he by no means hated his brother.  Baekhyun wasn't the same four-year-old that pestered Yejun to read him books or let him play with his model airplanes anymore.  Far from it, actually.  Not that it seemed to matter.  On some level, Baekhyun thought that maybe Yejun did hate him.  He didn't know what he had possibly done to cause it, and even less so what he could do to change it.  Maybe he couldn't.

  "Okay," he said hesitantly, then paused.  "Plans... with a girl?"  It was no more than innocent curiosity on Baekhyun's part, and yet he still should have anticipated the way Yejun jerked his head away from the road, scowling cruelly down at his brother, as if he was no more than a hindrance.

  "Sorry," Baekhyun murmured quickly, his eyes dropped down to his lap.

     A moment, and then, "Are you dating?"  He was gruff about it, a little harsh, but Baekhyun was thankful for his attention to be back on the traffic in front of them.  He knew that Yejun wasn't taking an actual interest, by now.  He was just making sure that everything was in order, that Baekhyun was doing what he was supposed to, or maybe hoping he wasn't.  Yet, the question still managed to take him by surprise.

  "No," Baekhyun answered honestly.  He wouldn't dare date.  Yejun knew that.

  "You better not.  Dating is the last thing we need.  The minute you start dating, everyone knows."

  "Do you think anyone actually cares?" Baekhyun asked earnestly.  He never did understand why his family was so bothered about who he concerned himself with, not really.  He was just a high school student.  How many people would even know if he dated?  Why would anyone care enough to find out?

  "Are you stupid?  Of course people care."  His fingers looked like they would break under the tension on them.  "The minute you let yourself get caught up in a scandal with some doe-eyed heiress you think has good intentions, we're ed.  All she would have to do is start some rumor about having your illegitimate kid or, better yet, run around claiming ual assault or some .  That's all it takes.  Do you even realize how many people have been ruined like that?"

  "Yeah... sorry," he mumbled, not knowing what else to say, because it wouldn't be an heiress he fell in love with, and that just made it that much worse.

     Yejun grunted in response, pulling the car up on a curb in front of a small café.  He released his grip, and with it seemed to be his irritation.  "Let's just get coffees.  You probably have homework or studying that you could be doing, anyways."

     The ride back to the Byun manor was painfully silent.  After their stop for drinks, Baekhyun no longer attempted to make conversation as long as Yejun was just going to offer unpleasant lectures in response, and Yejun, on his part, made no attempt at all.  In his mind, he had completed the task given by their parents, which was to take Baekhyun out of the house.  He saw no reason to waste his energy doing anything extra or unnecessary.

     Yejun steered the car back in the driveway and put it in park.  Baekhyun began to unbuckle his seatbelt and climb out of the car when the other gripped his wrist tightly, yanking him back into his seat with a firm jerk.

  "I was serious about what I said earlier.  No dating or screwing around.  Our family is important.  We don't need you ing up and ruining our name with your own selfish stupidity," Yejun reminded Baekhyun callously, before releasing his arm with a scoff.

     Baekhyun didn't know why, but his chest tightened at that moment.  He could consider himself many things, but selfish wasn't one of them.  Baekhyun always put his family first.  Always, even when the only thing he wanted to do was consider himself, what he needed.  What had he ever done to make his family dislike him so much?  Even his own brother.  Baekhyun bit his lip, blinking his eyes from the tears that threatened to spill over.  Yejun was always like this to him, so why did his words hurt so much?

  "Do you think that I haven't heard this?  I think about it all the time.  I work so hard not to disgrace our family."  Baekhyun's voice was filled with bitterness, and he knew he was only embarrassing himself, but for once, he didn't want to stop.  He needed to say it.  "You don't have to worry about it, because God knows I worry about it enough on my own."

     He wasn't sure where it came from, either, but it felt good to get it off of his chest.  Baekhyun had never contradicted his older brother before; he had never even considered it.

     A look of sheer anger passed over Yejun's face.  Baekhyun thought for a moment that he might have considered hitting him as his fingers twitched and curled around the steering wheel again.

  "Don't be a ing brat and just go inside.  If Father had heard you, he probably would've kicked your , and you know it.  I wouldn't have stopped him, either."  Yejun was right.  All things considered, Yejun was the lesser of two evils compared to their father.  The man rarely laid a hand on Baekhyun, but he also rarely gave his father a reason to.  Baekhyun opened the door, resentful and angry and alone, and started towards the house, this time, without any apologies.

     Park Chanyeol sat tiredly on a cold, wooden bench in the academy's gymnasium that afternoon, back pressed against a set of metal gym lockers, skin moist from the showers, as he ran a towel through his freshly washed hair.  A pleasant buzz of chatter had filled the locker room once word of a Friday night party spread around after practice.  The students of Joowon Academy could feel midterms sneaking up on them, and almost like ritual, they grasped at the opportunity for some alcohol-induced fun.  Most had no clue as to who was actually throwing the party.  Chanyeol had spent enough time at the school to know that it didn't matter in the least.

     Chanyeol considered attending.  While some students, like the mysterious class president, took it upon themselves to jump into anything academic, or productive, as his mother might say instead, Chanyeol was considerably different.  He was a regular social butterfly, an extrovert. Given that he was the captain of the basketball team, he knew practically everyone, and practically everyone knew him in return.  Chanyeol was always surrounded by the spotlight, doing and saying things that got him recognized almost in a subconscious kind of way and making friends with people who were inclined towards the same kind of behavior.  That was the only way he would ever have it. But it came with a price.  The price being a low B average, sometimes even lower, if he were being honest with himself, in nearly every subject.  He knew that he needed to bring the grades up, if not for himself then for his mother, who constantly worried about Chanyeol maintaining his athletics-based scholarship with the school.  A drunken party only a few weeks before testing was not generally a fantastic idea.

  "Yah, Chan.  You goin' tonight?" Jongin asked as appeared from the shower stalls with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, water dripping from his dark bangs.

  "I don't know.  I promised my mom that I would actually try cracking open a book this weekend."  Chanyeol sighed. He really did want to be a good student, make his parents proud.  He just needed a little encouragement sometimes is all.  Unfortunately for him, most of his friends weren't the best motivators out there.

  "That's probably a good idea.  Your grades are ." J ongin chuckled as he slipped into a clean set of clothing.  Just a simple t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants now that school was over.  Chanyeol never thought that he looked quite right in the uniform. 

  "But you do have Saturday and Sunday to study, not just tonight."

  "Studying with a hangover?  Yeah, no thanks."  Chanyeol smiled slightly, wrapping the towel from before around his neck and leaning back.  "Not everyone has a perfect boyfriend to help them with school."

  "You could have one," Jongin sang as he shut his locker door.  Chanyeol frowned up at him in question.

     Jongin snorted, shaking his head.  "Come on.  I need to go home and get ready so I can pick Soo up for the party."

  "Sure," he murmured hesitantly, his lips pressed together.  "Let me just grab my stuff."  Chanyeol opened his own locker and began to collect the books from the bottom shelf when one slipped from the pile, landing on the floor with a dull clunk.  He picked it up and stared at it in bewilderment.

  "This isn't mine," he mumbled, thumbing through the pages of notes.  His eyes eventually settled on the name printed on the book's cover, the Hangul small and distinct, nothing like Chanyeol's heavy handed swirls and curls and loops.

     변백현

  "We must have gotten them mixed up this morning.  That means-" Chanyeol ran a hand down his face with a groan, pinching his eyes shut while his head fell forward, thumping plainly against the face of the locker nearest to him.  "Byun Baekhyun has my lyrics."

  "What's the big deal?" Jongin questioned exasperatedly.

  "It's just... personal," he said ambiguously, flapping a hand idly between his body and the wall mounted units.  He lifted his face away momentarily, only to bring it down again.  Jongin winced.

  "I've seen it."

  "Yes, but I tell you everything anyways.  I barely know Baekhyun, and..."

  "And you think he's hot," Jongin finished simply.  Chanyeol pulled his face away from the locker quickly, abashed and blushing wholeheartedly.  "If you're really so concerned, just call him or go over to his house and ask for it back."

     Chanyeol chose to ignore the previous statement entirely, it seemed, to think about Jongin's suggested solution. He didn't have Baekhyun's phone number, of course, or his home address for that matter.  He also couldn't just show up and demand for his notebook back, at least not if he had intended to make a good impression.

  "How?  It kind of seems rude."  He didn't seem like he was going to slam his forehead off of the locker again, and Jongin took that as a sign of encouragement.

  "Just play it off like you were being nice and wanted to return his notebook.  Then he'll just give you yours back while you're there."  Jongin waved a hand towards the object in question.  "Byun is a nice guy, anyway.  You literally can't upset him, which makes him just perfect for you, I think."

     Chanyeol scowled, trusting that Jongin knew he wasn't serious about it, mostly.  "How am I supposed to find out where he lives though?"

  "Jesus Christ," Jongin rolled his eyes.  "Am I supposed to figure everything out?  Baekhyun is friends with like half the school.  Even Kyungsoo knows him.  Just ask anyone where he lives."

     Chanyeol nodded slightly, determinedly.  A small smile formed on his lips.  He ducked down quickly and grabbed his gym bag by the strap, pulling it onto his shoulder.

  "I'm going to go and try to find one of his friends.  Oh, and Jongin?"  Chanyeol stopped walking just as he reached the door.  He turned back to face his best friend with a smile.  "Thank you."

  "Don't mention it," he grinned, impish and lopsided.  "Now go talk to your princess."

(Edited July 19, 2017)