"All the poets in the alley coughing up blood

And their visions and their dreams are coming up red

They can either wake up or go deeper

But it's so dangerous to wake a deep sleeper"

Small Bill$ by Regina Spektor

“It was some of the guys from the kitchen staff,” the woman, Andy’s manager, said when he got to the restaurant. He had already forgotten what her name was, not in the right headspace to be remembering things like that. Even if he had been, it was such a weird name he’d struggle with it anyways. “They were playing a joke on her. None of us knew she had such a bad fear of small spaces. They’ve tried apologizing to her, they feel so bad about upsetting her so much, but she barely acknowledged them.”

Yixing had still been on the phone with Baekhyun when he got the call from Christine. She had been who the manager had originally called as per Andy’s request, but was caught up at a job interview. She called Yixing, having gotten his number from Andy in case of an emergency, and just told him there had been some sort of incident at work and he need to pick Andy up. Christine didn’t know all the details, not having had much time, but Yixing was supposed to update her as soon as he knew what was going on.

“Andy’s always been very sweet and courteous; I've never seen her act like this. I just don’t feel comfortable letting her drive herself home in this state even though she keeps claiming she’s fine.”

Yixing nodded, feeling like he was only understanding half of what she was saying. He was frustrated this woman was even talking to him. A small part of him knew she was just trying to help explain the situation to him, but the language barrier made it to where he wasn’t understanding her very well. If he could just talk to Andy, she could explain it. However Andy was still in the bathroom and this woman wouldn’t stop talking.

Yixing still hadn’t seen Andy since he’d gotten there, and he would break down the bathroom door to make sure she was fine—which he doubted since she had decided to recuperate in the men’s room—if she didn’t come out soon. His worry for her was palpable, his barely contained anxiety enough to keep the woman at a distance.

“I was so shocked when she came running out of the walk-in. I thought someone had come through the back door and was trying to rob us or something. There are so many cars in the parking lot it’d be a bit ridiculous of an attempt, but this is a college town. A bunch of kids who aren’t exactly the brightest live around here. I’ve heard of crazier things before.”

Yixing had folded his arms and was now squeezing them to contain his annoyance. He still wasn’t following exactly what this woman was saying, but he could tell she had veered from the most important thing and was rambling on about something else. 

He had walked over to the bathroom door by this point and was about to knock when it opened. Yixing’s eyes devoured Andy checking her from head to toe to make sure she was alright. It didn’t take him more than a second or two to zero in on her eyes, which were red, or her cheeks, which were pink, or the rest of her face, which was pale. He was torn between wrapping Andy in his arms right then and there, cradling her to himself and cocooning her in him to squeeze out everything bad and prevent anything else like that from ever reaching her again, and running around the entire town to find every single guy who was in on the joke and punching each of them square on the nose so it would break and bleed and they would suffer.

Then Andy sniffed and he was reaching out to her before he could think. She raised her and hand up though, shaking her head. Frustrated he couldn’t physically console her and a little hurt at the rejection, especially since he thought he had been making progress, he lowered his arms worried he might upset her more.

“Let’s just go home, please,” she said.

Yixing nodded and tried to guide her to the door without touching her. The manager said something else to Andy as they were leaving, but thankfully didn’t try to stop them to talk. Andy grabbed her things and made her way to the motorcycle just fine, but hesitated before putting her helmet on.

“What is it?” Yixing asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Her voice was strained, and so was my heart.

Yixing double checked the directions back to the apartment before taking off, not wanting to bother Andy with asking about it. He would be asking a lot of questions once they got home, and wanted to let her have a few more minutes to calm down before he got to that. Plus, he figured she’d be more at ease in her own home and that would make it easier to talk.

While he was driving back, though, Andy suddenly started patting his side urgently. He pulled over in the nearest parking lot and pulled off his helmet to ask he what was wrong.

“I’ll be right back,” Andy said, a desperate yet determined look in her eyes.

She didn’t even look at Yixing before walking into the store of the parking lot they were in. He looked up at the sign and even with his limited English knew what kind of store it was. It only made him even more worried since Andy didn’t like to drink, and even disliked it so much that she specifically didn’t keep any alcohol in her apartment. Yet she suddenly wanted him to pull over so she could buy some? If it was anyone else, he would probably agree that a drink would be a good idea since it seemed Andy had been so upset and worked up earlier, though she was strangely calm by the time Yixing got there. Since it was Andy, though, it made him uncomfortable; Andy liked control, and she liked to be in control.

She came back out with only one bottle, though, so maybe he was worrying more than he should.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked, gently, as she got back on the bike.

“No, thank you.”

He hesitated, but started the bike up and began driving to the apartment again.

~

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Yixing asked once they finally reached the apartment.

Instead of setting everything on the small table next to the door, where Andy always puts her keys and wallet because that was where they go, she took them with her to the kitchen and set them down on the counter. She walked away from them as she pulled the bottle out of the sack, which she also left on the counter, and unscrewed the cap.

“Nothing happened.”

Yixing set everything on the small table, knowing it was safer for when Andy came back to her senses.

“Nothing happened?”

“The guys were just pulling a prank. It wasn’t anything.”

Andy put the bottle to her lips and tried to take a drink, but her face scrunched in confusion as she pulled the bottle back and stared at it for a moment.

“What are you doing?” Yixing reached out to take the bottle, but Andy jerked it out of his reach and turned away from him.

“Having a drink.”

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“I think we’ve already established that I’m good at having bad ideas.”

Yixing came up short, the venom in her words catching him off guard. Not for one second did he doubt that it was meant for herself. Like a cobra tangling in on itself to bite its own body. The next thing he knew Andy had tipped the bottle up again, this time turning the bottle almost completely upside-down, and shaking it. It must have worked somehow because he could hear her swallowing.

“Ugh,” she said after she lowered the bottle, “I don’t know why I expected rum to taste better.”

She turned back around to face him, and Yixing couldn’t help but think Andy looked more like a small child who had just drank medicine than a grown woman drinking alcohol straight from a bottle. He sighed before snatching the drink out of her hand and heading towards the kitchen.

“You’re not supposed to drink it straight.”

“What are you doing?”

“Getting some orange juice to mix it with.”

Andy stood at the edge of the kitchen and watched him, again reminding him of a small child. She crossed her arms and hunched her shoulders like she was trying to fold in on herself. He grabbed a glass and orange juice, and poured both it and the rum in together.

“Try this.”

“You didn’t put very much in.”

“Have you ever drank before?”

Andy frowned.

“Yes.” She hesitated. “Wine, mostly.”

Yixing sighed again.

“Rum usually has at least three times the alcohol content of wine. Trust me, you don’t need to drink as much to start feeling it’s effects.”

Andy picked up the cup and sipped from it.

“You know a lot about this.”

“I do drink sometimes. And I have friends who drink a lot and tell me things.”

Yixing made himself a glass of the mix and picked it up as well. He leaned against the counter as he watched Andy drink.

“I can’t hardly taste it,” she said.

“That’s the point.”

She took another drink. A big one this time. She had already finished half the cup. She suddenly stopped moving and stared at the counter. Her eyes were unfocused but her forehead was creased; her hands gripped the cup tightly. She remained this way a couple of seconds before her eyes darted to everything she had left on the counter. She began to clean it up, drink in hand. After she threw away the bag and set her keys and wallet on the small table Andy chugged the last of the mix. She turned around and come up to the other side of the counter Yixing was leaning against and set the cup in front of him.

“Make me another one, please.”

“I don’t think you should drink this much this fast.”

She stared back at him for a second. She grabbed the bottle before he could figure out what she was thinking and poured more in than she should have. Yixing grabbed the orange juice and tried to pour in as much as he could to dilute it but she pulled the cup back when it reached the level she liked drinks to get at in her cups.

“Oh no,” she said as she looked at the spilled orange juice on the counter.

Andy took another drink before coming around to grab a towel and clean up the mess.

“All clean,” she said brightly, and Yixing could already see her cheeks beginning to flush.

“Andy, I think that’s enough.”

“No.” She looked at him pouting. “I have to clean more.”

She darted out to the living room but almost spilled her drink.

“Oh, no, I have to be careful, too.”

She took another big drink.

“No, I need more room.”

Andy walked from the living room into the bedroom and looked around for a second, Yixing right behind her, his drink on the counter.

“No, this is too small.”

She took another drink and walked into the bathroom, but walked right back out.

“No that’s even smaller!”

She walked back into the living room and looked around again. Yixing noticed she was swaying now and he took the drink from her hands.

“Let’s set that down so you don’t make a mess.”

“I never make messes.” Her swaying was getting worse and she was now wavering her hand around as she spoke. Her lids were getting heavy. “I clean them up.”

Andy jerked her head to the door to the balcony and began making her way to it.

“More room.”

She flung open the door and walked out into the open night air, arms stretched out wide.

“Ahh! Much better. I can breathe!”

“Hold on, Andy,” Yixing said, rushing to set the cup down and follow her out. Drunk Andy was making him nervous and he wasn’t at all sure what to expect from her. He worried she might yell or try to go over the railing.

“Andy, let’s go back inside, please. It’s cold out here.”

“But there’s space out here.” She lowered her hands and stared up at the sky. Yixing wasn’t sure what she was looking at, all he could see was her swaying that could lead to her falling. He really wanted to get her back inside where it was warm and sat down so she didn’t hurt herself.

“You know, the night sky kind of looks like a giant blanket.” Yixing was shocked to see her eyes become wet and her face grimace.

“Andy,” he said, reaching out to her. Before he could reach her, though, she had already spun around and was back inside the apartment. He followed her in, shutting and locking the door.

By the time he turned around Andy had already pulled out her cleaning supplies and was wiping down the counters.

“Andy, Andy stop for a second.”

She ignored him, cleaning furiously.

“Andy, please, stop.”

He tried reaching out and grabbing her hand to physically stop her, but she wrenched it away from him before he could get a hold on her.

“No!” she yelled petulantly.

“Andy, stop.”

He tried reaching for her again and she wrenched away again. Instead of going back to cleaning, though, she threw her cleaning wipe down on the counter and ran to her room, uttering an angry noise that was somewhere between a scream and a groan, slamming the door shut. Yixing rushed to follow, but she had locked her door.

“Andy,” he said while knocking. “Andy, open up. Please.” He knocked some more. “We need to talk Andy, please open the door.”

She didn’t answer and he couldn’t hear anything through the door. He knocked a few more times and called her name, but she remained silent. He stepped away from the door and began pacing, running his hands through his hair. Yixing regretted letting her drink, but he hadn’t known what she needed to be comforted. He didn’t know how she usually coped, but clearly this wasn’t her usual method, nor should it ever be repeated. He didn’t know how to fix this mess with Andy locked in her room, away from him, drunk, upset, and angry. At him. Because he had messed up. He still didn’t even know what had sparked this whole implosion.

What had happened at work? Why was she upset to begin with?

He let himself run his hands through his hair again before he forced himself to stop pacing and calm his breathing. He approached the door again, hoping Andy had calmed down a bit even though he was getting more worked up the longer that door was shut.

“Andy?”

She didn’t answer, but when he leaned closer he could hear her.

Andy was crying.

Once he realized that Yixing’s hand shot to the door knob again and he found that it was unlocked. When he opened the door he saw Andy laying on her bed, on her side, curled in, crying into her mattress. She had her arm up, covering her face as if to hide it from the world, as she could keep this act a secret from it.

Without thinking about it, Yixing walked up to her bed, crawled on it, and laid down right in front of Andy. He encircled her in his arms, pulling her into his chest. Part of him must have believed she either would have ignored him or pushed him away. He was surprised when she turned her head and buried her face into his chest and then grabbed fistfuls of his shirt next to her face. He wrapped his arms more securely around her and began her hair as she continued to cry. Each sob was a talon or claw ripping open his chest and shredding his mind. When she began quieting he rested his hand on the back of her head and pressed his face against her hair. There were a few moments where she breathed evenly, calmly.

“I don’t like small spaces,” she said.

Yixing didn’t say anything or move at all, too scared something he would say or do would cause her to close herself off again.

“When I was younger.” She paused. “I got locked in a cellar.” She paused again. “Not like a wine cellar, but a tornado cellar. They’re small and dark and under-ground and cold and—” She stoped speaking again, her breath hitching. Yixing decided to risk it and began to thread his fingers in Andy’s hair, running them through. Her breathing calmed down a bit so he kept doing it. She remained quiet for a few seconds before continuing again. “It was just a prank. The boys at work were just trying to pull a prank. They didn’t know I’m so ridiculously scared of small spaces. I know they wouldn’t have pretended to lock me in the walk-in if they knew.” Yixing heard her begin to cry again. He squeezed her tighter in his arms. “It’s such a stupid thing to be scared of. I’m making such a big deal out of nothing.”

“No,” Yixing said, surprising himself by the firmness of his voice. “You don’t have to apologize for being scared of something.” He ran his hands through her hair for another second. “You know, I used to be scared of fireflies. They still make me uncomfortable when I see them just because I can’t let go of that fear.”

He waited for her to say something.

“Why were you scared of fireflies?”

“When I was really young, my aunt, that I was pretty close to, died. After her funeral I was outside with my grandma when we come across some fireflies. I asked her why they glowed like that, and I don’t know why but she said they glowed because they were carrying souls. She said they ferried the souls of the dead from this world into the afterlife. She said one of them was probably taking my aunts soul to heaven right then, and her and some of the other souls were just stopping by to say good bye. She probably meant it to comfort me, but I got it into my head, somehow, that the fireflies could also take souls whenever they wanted, that they could kill. I was terrified of them and didn’t understand why no one else was. I kept that belief for years before I finally realized how crazy it was. I still hate seeing them, though, and I don’t like going near them.”

Yixing paused, wondering if Any would say anything. When she didn’t he continued.

“Your fear seems pretty rational in comparison, doesn’t it?”

Still she remained silent. He was beginning to worry if his story had, in fact, annoyed her or made her angry before she finally spoke.

“Yixing, can you sleep here tonight?”

He gave her a gentle squeeze.

“Of course I can.”

She fidgeted for a second before wrapping one of her arms around him.

“Thank you.”

Her voice was small, the size of a firefly.

“Of course.”