People easily come around—strangers walking into your consciousness without any intentions, staying a constant mystery as they walk away, writing lifelines along calendar days, and leaving minuscule marks. They come and go, and when they do they take with them a little part of each person they encounter for the first time as impressions; a smile, conversations overheard, a similar voice, and a reminder of a memory. It is subtle, discreet in its own way that nobody ever notices the cycle begin and end, until it hits you square in the face, an impact more powerful than pain.

The airport had mellowed down as crowds left for warmer places as the announcement of suspended flights rolled out. He sits down, facing the large tempered glass looking through his reflection and into the lights of the snow heavily falling over the cityscape that he was sure he’d miss, and would love to appreciate more intimately. A cup of coffee in hand and a bagel to go with, he contemplates whether this is a sign for him to not go back to his reality just yet. Baekhyun sips on the bitter coffee and burns his own tongue.

He watches the irony of heavy snowfall swirl like the lightest of confetti. The storm has yet to calm and brings the kind of feeling that keeps you halfway on edge and almost numb. Yifan knows the thought of having no choice but to sit back and do nothing is going to send him into a frenzy of worry amidst relaxation so he shrugs it off. His trip is already nothing short of hectic; of course, the weather would pitch in.

He heaves a long sigh and rubs his palm over his face in frustration. A walk, he thinks that’d do him some good. It’s simple and therapeutic. It keeps him pondering and distracted, takes away the stress and holds him down—as if every step directs him toward his conclusions, and helped him with his decisions. As the airport is buzzing with sounds of goodbyes and homesickness, Yifan walks along the sidelines, hurried clacks against the marble floors zooming past him as he looks for a calmer place in the vicinity. He makes a turn, puts his things down on the carpeted floor before sitting against the cold blurry glass.

Winter is his favorite. Everyone is faceless behind thick, fluffy layers and he can pretend he’s invisible. Yifan likes to escape. Thinks that one can’t always just keep to a single track of reality, a boring one at that. He stares out and wonders, admiring the stark white ice piled on the ground against the dark skyline.

He needs more warmth. A soft sigh as he looks into the cup of chocolate that doesn’t any more suffice, it’s turned cold as well. He sips to comfort himself from this lonesome trouble of trying to get home. He never found the airport a very accommodating place. There is a hint of despair at the lounge as the hands of fate tangle up. Yifan is reminded of strangers, constant and fading.

Yifan is shocked to almost dropping the cup of chocolate when he hears a soft voice, then an attempt to hide laughter followed after his ungraceful reaction. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” The grin is playful, though, and he realizes that this man is speaking to him in heavily accented English.

“I-it’s alright, I guess… I should pay attention to my surroundings more, maybe.” Fingers run through his hair then scratch idly on his nape. He feels thrown off, back into his awkward pool, but he has on a genuine smile.

“I’m really bored and I bet flights would resume at morning so… I thought maybe you’re okay with talking?” A hopeful gleam looks up at Yifan. He observes the smaller man as discreetly as he can. He seems harmless and too tired, so he smiles again, sincerity spilling over.

“Sure, I’m Yifan, by the way,” he nods in greeting.

“I’m Baekhyun,” they shake hands, he chuckles and the sound that flows from his throat is nice, a resonating piece of intangible contentment you don’t mind hearing over and over. Yifan can only smile unconsciously at the tone of it. “I’ve been here since the afternoon. What about you?” He gets a hint that Baekhyun is most likely the type of person who can make anyone comfortable around him. A ball of positive energy that absorbs one into his cozy, teasing warmth and makes them stay there until they’re all better, longer if they wanted to.

“Arrived just in time for the bad news, and I wondered just why I didn’t bother to check any weather updates,” he lightly laughs it off. The feeling is way too foreign, he was never good at small talk, but at least this conversation isn’t just about what he does for a living, or the weather, or fake mundane bull that people like to immerse themselves in when meeting other new people.

“Well, let’s hope we can fly out by morning, or at least, noon?” Baekhyun settles a decent distance away from where Yifan is slouched, his things a little pile to his other side as he leans back against them, “As much as going back to reality isn’t as pleasing as we’d like it to be?”

Yifan quietly exhales a breath he doesn’t know he is holding. His body relaxing against the glass as he turns to face Baekhyun and begin to let go of his worries for now.

Their smiles become comfortable as minutes float deeper into the night. Their eyes don’t meet while talking, a subtle shyness hangs, a reminder that they’ve just met a couple of hours ago. Their conversations weave out starting from quiet curiosity, in between interests and distracted thoughts, jumping too often from one topic to another never finishing any of their long stories from years back, learning of each other through most random things, they talk of ideas, and just plain old experiences, laughing louder at the cross of polite jokes and experimental teasing.

Yifan checks the time, more out of habit than need, it is 3:52 at dawn. No wonder it’s still dark out and a lot quieter than earlier that evening. The replenished cups of coffee sit in their hands idly, more for warmth than anything else. “What exactly brought you to Japan?” The more personal questions drop along the stream of conversations, the tiny steps that bring people in faster.

“Idealistic whims, maybe, I came here with my boyfriend—,” Baekhyun’s smile waivers of fondness and pain at the same time, yet he thinks back to those memory lots. His eyes are readable in the dim orangey light, Yifan looks at him empathically as he continues, “I’m going away, you know, when you read things like moving to cities where nobody knows who you are… I’m going to try that someday, I told myself once. And now might be the best time for that... If I’m truly brave enough alone.”

“Gonna go around to look for yourself?” he is dazed as his thoughts start to steadily flow in his head, fluid like neon in veins, mumbling softly into the puffy air, “Nothing like letting no one hold you back from anything at all, no inhibitions.” He sees Baekhyun nod in his peripheral, out of focus, yet the understanding was clear as a cloudless day. How do simple questions make you dig deep and how does one hold back from saying too much?

“Why did you come to Japan?” Baekhyun guns the question back at him.

“Business,” He took a tentative sip, the beverage still a little too hot to drink. “You know when you’re at your prime age but you don’t have enough time to see what you want to see, and live how you want to live because you’ve become a corporate slave?” There is a hint of bitterness in his choked laugh. He clears his throat.

“Corporate slave, huh?” Baekhyun lightly teases, a slender finger playfully poking at the other man’s bicep, “But sometimes isn’t it more important to know if you are you where you’re supposed to be? Like stepping stones?”

“Yeah, though people’s priorities and short-term goals have too much weight that it slows them down.” Yifan’s words, he thinks, should never leave his head. He always feels like the moisture that dampens fragile things. Unbleached courage and recycled papers of optimism. He doesn’t understand why he throws everything away like he doesn’t need them.

“But those are things that you can change and work around on, right?” There’s truth in what Baekhyun says, it puts an itch under his skin. Yifan nurses a subtle annoyance in not being able to scratch that stupid itch because he doesn’t even know where it lies. “What’s holding you back from changing?”

“I’ve settled,” he begins. Yifan doesn’t even want to figure out why he’s telling Baekhyun, someone who just happened to ask the right questions, “That’s probably the saddest part about it. It’s a little fancier than saying ‘I gave up on myself’.”

“Looks to me like you haven’t completely, though,” Baekhyun smiles, a little curve up on one side of his lips, almost a smirk, “You still dream of escaping, don’t you? Don’t even deny it.”

“You may be right about being idealistic,” he teases back, “but it’s true, of course. I dream, I’m tired, I have thoughts of what if’s swimming around in my head when I have the time but that doesn’t mean I’ll act on it.”

“Why not? Aren’t you a little too young to settle that way? You’ve looked into the future too much you live in your future self already,” his grimace spells uncertainty, but Baekhyun knows he’s got a point.

“Maybe that’s just how it is, maybe that’s what expectations can do to you,” he chuckles and sips on the drink, it no longer burns. The warmth is evidence of how it’s been left to sit there for when you need to will away your own thoughts so they don’t swallow you whole. He shifts the tide the other’s way, “What are your plans now? You’re coming home, right?”

A loud sigh resonates and a soft grumble of being torn between wanting to go home and staying where he is, Baekhyun leans back against the glass right beside Yifan and looks at him, “I don’t really know or even feel a tinge of certainty about coming home,” he starts off, “I’ve met a lot of people since university and they’ve made me feel like family and more at home than when I’m with my actual biological family. That kind of thing…”

Yifan knows too well what Baekhyun means, his whole life he has only ever depended on himself because his family is too busy to mind him. He nods and looks at Baekhyun, observes as his thoughts visibly scramble in his head as he tries to sort them out.

“I want to go back and see my friends again, people I’ve left behind for something I thought would last longer than it did. Maybe, make plans of travelling more; see how they’re doing and all that, after that I’ll think of something. I’ve always been into things like design, clothes… things my father would never in this lifetime approve of.” Yifan stares. Baekhyun doesn’t mind that he’s reading into his thoughts based on his words, it’s as if he wanted to be read and see if he will be understood, “I want to do more than just be what I’m expected to become. I’m pretty sure I’ll get more than earfuls of I told you so when I get back. And— There’s just a lot that’s going to happen once I’m back home and thinking about it already tires me out.”

“I’m no good with words or feelings, but let me tell you—well, try to tell you something,” Yifan has seen this unfold time and again, “To hell with the I told you so. Look at me. I’m a product of that. Nobody told me that at the end of the day you don’t have obligations to take care of other people’s feelings and dreams. You’re in your selfish years so might as well be your most selfish self now than five to ten years later, when it’s too late to turn things around.”

Silence settles upon them a few long moments as Baekhyun stares at him half-minded.

“My parents wanted me to do business, so I did.” Baekhyun explains with a soft voice, as if asking for help, thinking of letting it all out because what has he got to lose? “It’s not so bad, the people I went with were great and they’re probably the reason I got through until I graduated. But I’m bad at it, I know, I couldn’t wrap my head around some things and it discouraged me heaps when I saw my friends absorb it all as if it’s all the easiest thing to understand. I always needed their help and I didn’t want to become a burden then, all the more do I not want to be one now. It can’t be that nothing has changed even after we all graduated.”

Yifan laughs lightly, “I’ll be honest with you because I highly doubt that they’d look at you like you’re even a hint of a burden. You’re probably one of the people they love having around and I am willing to bet they miss you. You give off that kind of vibe, you know?”

Baekhyun can feel his cheeks rise with a tinge of warm pink, his smile trembling because he’s trying not to grin too wide, “I hope so.” It was too soft, Yifan shakes his head as he stares at Baekhyun’s face, leaning forward a little, the other a little taken aback and leans back further, “What?”

“Come on, it’s not like nobody’s ever told you those things before,” Yifan turns and avoids his gaze, realizing what implications he might have made.

Baekhyun is the one to lean in this time and grins that awfully beautiful stretch of lips over perfect teeth at his face, “You’re hitting on me…” He lets out an obnoxiously teasing, noisy laugh, and his flirtatious side seeping out within the confines of their close proximity.

Yifan holds himself together to fight off an overwhelming warmth crawling up his neck, cheeks and ears, turns up his boss persona, flicks the corner of his lips up in a smirk as he firmly holds Baekhyun’s stare with his stern eyes, far away from his timid real self, “And you’re basking in the attention.” He raises a brow daringly and the smirk deepens.

The younger man had teasing under his sleeve ever since he was young, like he was born with that talent. But at the moment, he was nothing but mush under the gaze of Yifan, shrinking under intimidation.

Baekhyun falls back into his body when Yifan’s laughter rings in his ears, the occasional “Hey!” resounding too teasingly he can feel his the rush to his cheeks and ears. “Hey… Baekhyun?” The laughter and pokes to his waist fades and Yifan’s face turns sheepish and uneasy and honestly concerned, “Why are you doing that face?”

It is a rare but welcomed occasion that Baekhyun finds himself flustered. It is true; he is enjoying the company of this tall, attractive guy, even though it’s definitely going to appear as a hazy memory of a sad sleepless night at the airport. There were thoughts in the back of his mind that he doesn’t want to surface but they’re bubbling up as the hours pass. A grin makes its way to his lips and he chuckles, pretends he’s finding the play fighting funny when all he can laugh about is how stupid it would be to dislike that Yifan will walk away by morning.

On some days, the joke is on him. At least, nobody knows.

The sun is rising but it is difficult to see behind the looming freeze over. A hint of warmth comes from their smiles as they’ve moved to sit far from the mirror, still on the carpeted floor, they start playing a silly game of “Questions”.

“I’m quite happy we’re not at some club while playing this,” Baekhyun randomly remarks as he fights a yawn, while Yifan thought of his next question and they both laugh. Teary eyed from sleepiness, bodies tired from the cold-laden wait.

“Ah! Then, what questions would you have asked if we were at a club?” with a raised eyebrow he challenges the shorter man. He is beginning to get convinced that this was his kind of fun. He felt it might bore anybody with so much energy, someone who shone like the sun.

Baekhyun chuckles softly and says, “Don’t act like you don’t know, I’m pretty sure you go out and have people approaching you—or if I may be more accurate, throwing themselves at you. You’ve got basically the whole ideal package going on.”

“But isn’t ideal subjective?” Yifan teases more, “Don’t people have different ideals? Are you as good as drunk when sleepless?” He feels Baekhyun fall to his side, the warmth and deadweight tearing him apart between pushing the man off of him and letting him sleep on his lap.

Baekhyun shrugs and eventually buries his face into Yifan’s thigh, “You’re so warm, also it’s my turn to ask a question,” he mumbles and stretches his legs and arms as he lay completely on the floor.

“Come on, you can’t fall asleep now,” a sleepy laugh makes it out of his lips and he leans a little bit forward and looks at Baekhyun’s serene face, “We’ll probably board soon, we’ll have to watch out for the announcements.”

Baekhyun reaches up to pat the top of Yifan’s head and chuckles softly, “Let’s take a nap, I’m too tired to drag myself down into the crowd that will be there once the flights resume.” He grabs a hoodie from his pile of belongings and drapes it over himself, covering his face from the rising sun’s hopeful rays.

Yifan sighs and leans back against the glass pane and puts his hands in his jacket pockets, closing his eyes as well. He is fading. And with a low hum he thinks, “Wake me up before you go…”

The hum of a response goes unheard.

Baekhyun wakes up to the sound of faraway padded footsteps of the incoming crowd. As he looks around, recalling where he is, he sits up and faces the glass panels. The morning is pretty friendly, sunlight barely stinging through fluffed morning clouds. At least the snow had stopped.

Mornings with strangers have never felt safe. And as passive his interaction with Yifan had been all night, he knows he would prefer waking up to him on an airport floor than sneaking out of an unfamiliar bedroom. He looks at the sleeping man leaning against the metal beam. His ashy light blond hair looked convincingly angelic over those closed eyes. Baekhyun sighs and shakes off the crumbling he feels in his chest as wishes bubble up at the bottom of his mind.

Yifan is greeted by the smell of fresh brewed coffee and the smile of a new acquaintance that managed to fill his dreams. His lips turn up at the edges unknown to him as he adjusts his seating. With a soft hoarse voice still laced with sleepiness, he asks about how Baekhyun’s sleep had been. Yifan’s eyes are bright underneath hooded stares. Baekhyun, being the ray of sunshine that he is, warms up to those looks and sneaks into the cozy comfort of this prospect of attention.

His first sip of coffee is bittersweet as any beginning of an impending goodbye. The conversation is lithe with hints dropped like parachutes landing on uncertainty, hands clammy with holding back from holding onto tiny moments.

Do you think maybe we’ll meet again somehow? Glimpses catch on quicker than the flicker of hope when their eyes meet. Yifan saunters into the hollow bit of Baekhyun’s existence and basks in the idea that he could be alone in there. “I have Korea on my list of business trips. I think halfway through the year,” He says with a smile, Baekhyun smiles back.

Coming back and falling into a new routine let him move on easier than he thought. It was a bad first couple of weeks—rekindling a past that has gone to let a few people know why he returned. It’s a little unnerving. His little to zero expectations hasn’t at all been a let down. And, to his surprise, his mother has been very supportive. Often meeting over lunch in between work schedules, or coming home on the weekends to spend time with everyone greatly encouraged him to straighten out his current short-term goals and reorganize his plans.

Being able to settle into a very grounding daily life gives him a lot more time to think, rethink, and over think. Baekhyun has come to realize that his age is catching up to him as responsibilities and terms of being a free spirit have changed some ways for him to stay upright in his roots to grow. He finds himself scrolling past articles on social media feeds and wondering why he chose to come home instead of travel after leaving Japan. He could have gone somewhere else out of sheer impulse. He was sure it would be far more exciting than a nine-to-five job.

Baekhyun is coming into terms with the truth that it was a bittersweet parting. Knowing himself as a hopeless romantic, he believed everything to be going fine. Living together for the longest time made him relaxed. The convenience of having someone to come home to had him forgetting a tiny detail that will always be important for any relationship to work out. He thinks back quietly days after coming home. When was the last time he had really asked Joonmyun if he was alright? When was the last memory of them talking about the depth of their feelings whether sober or after a few too many glasses of wine? If they still see each other in their future? Maybe, for reasons that it felt foolish, he hadn't had the courage to bring it up. To him, asking might mean doubt. He believed that since they were still together, they're still how they've always been. The underlying confidence of having Joonmyun with him until they grow old had blocked his hindsight.

He had known Joonmyun for almost a decade. Starting off as acquaintances, they'd first met at parties of common friends. He wasn't a very outgoing guy but he had a life where he had fun on his own terms. It was his quiet disposition that had interest Baekhyun in the beginning, a typical mysterious boy that had been appeasing to unfold. Every time things would take a deeper turn, he'd bask in knowing there are things about Joonmyun that he only shares and opens up about with him.

It was a violent whirlwind that stormed up way too quickly in the middle of the sea. He didn't know what to feel first when the calm broke off and he had taken in what Joonmyun had brought up. There wasn't a hint of pain while they had dinner. The mundane everyday topics they usually pondered were out of mind but the quiet wasn't awkward. He simply thought it was one of those nights when they were both physically tired.

"Baek," Joonmyun's voice was soft, he sounded exhausted and it irked him that he'd only ever say he's fine even if he wasn't, “What do you see yourself as in the next… Say, three to five years?”

He took everything in stride, it wasn’t an odd question but it made him think, “Probably still working an office job. I mean, it’s not that far ahead but I’m thinking I’d have a decent amount of savings that won’t have me worrying like when we were starting out. Maybe, in another country with you, possibly back home and be with our friends and family again. Something of that sort, I guess. At least, that’s what I want.”

Joonmyun looked at him with unreadable eyes, Baekhyun’s soft laughter died in his throat.

“What’s wrong?” Baekhyun said. Nerves concealed under concern.

“I’m afraid, I won’t be able to keep our promises,” Joonmyun looked away from him when he sensed Baekhyun search his eyes, “I’ve been thinking a lot and figured how much a whole lot of things have changed for me.”

“In other words…?” Baekhyun didn’t want to hear it but he needed to—unfabricated, no sugar coating. He had the idea at the top of his head. They both knew where the pages had turned, “You know me, and what I’d rather hear.”

The pleading look on Baekhyun’s face made Joonmyun waiver. But he knows better than to skirt around what needs to be said.

Baekhyun was empathetic and he would almost always already know. Joonmyun knew that it wouldn't make any difference. It's what had him contemplating for a while, the thought of being the one to cause Baekhyun a feeling he did not deserve to feel. But he also knew that it wouldn’t be fair either if he continued to pretend that things are the same when they have drastically changed. He just wished they both knew how and when it all began.

Baekhyun discovered how it felt to be peeled off of someone’s life. He’s now a mere memory that would not be relived. He kept his feelings to himself because it’s far too late to try again. He might feel it’s unfair, but there’s no point if you weren’t given any chance to redeem yourself. He was given but a moment of warning before that long running chapter died a seemingly natural death. Even if he strongly felt he deserved a better ending, he chose to simply walk away. Joonmyun will not see him cry.

It's never fair, Baekhyun concludes. When only one of them falls out and the other is left hoping and doubting, looking back and wondering where they let go of each other’s hand as they walked, then eventually drifted apart as they went further. He understands perfectly and is convinced that he would not find it in himself to blame Joonmyun. At least, he never lied, he always tells himself.

Snow days have gone. The airport has never been the same since the night he got stranded in Narita with a certain Korean boy shining a light on his boring work-driven life. Here he was again, on another business trip, far more lengthy than the last and filled with much more uncertainty as much as responsibilities. He feels himself grow older just by the mere thought of it all. Yifan walks to the exit and readies himself. He greets his new company with confidence and well-practised handshakes and bows.

For weeks, Baekhyun has been constantly hearing about the hype surrounding the new lifestyle luxury street wear brand from China opening its very first flagship store in Seoul. His curiosity has him looking it up online and is pretty shocked to have found such a young brand make its remarkable impact on the international industry had involved crossing over to Hong Kong, Japan, Los Angeles, and now moving into South Korea. The new generation of young celebrities from the east to the west have been excited for the up & coming designers that the gallery housed.

He simply wants in and starts thinking about it over and over. He has enough Marketing knowledge, and more than enough love and passion for clothes to want this more than anything. He would choose to work in fashion, even from a business perspective, more than anything.

After a whole weekend of researching and preparing a focused creative resume, he finds himself perched on a couch in the waiting area of a very modern building in Gangnam. He studies his surroundings and tries not to feel too small. The seconds tick by slowly like each of them want to stretch into minutes, and the minutes don’t want to end. He was 15 minutes early for his appointment and it made him a little antsy.

Yifan types into his phone right as he steps into the vehicle waiting for him outside the hotel. He wills himself to have no expectations or anything but still, he hopes.

To: Byun Baekhyun
08:45 AM “I’ve arrived in Korea! :)”
08:45 AM “See you soon?”
08:45 AM “By the way, I’m staying in Seoul for work.”

It is farfetched that Baekhyun will still reply after almost two months of zero messages or social media updates.

To: Byun Baekhyun
08:47 AM “I’m sorry, I’ve just resurrected from the dead when I got here. I was buried in literal piles of work. ^_^”

Minutes pass and he gets nothing. Yifan lets the thought go and starts reading through the documents his secretary handed over to him after giving him a summary of his schedule for the day.

Baekhyun steps out of the interview office. He’s equally ecstatic and nervous for what he’s expected to do for the rest of the day. As he is lead to another floor for a talent test, he runs his clammy hands down the front of his black jeans, giving himself a mental pep talk. His interests and background may land him a spot in the Visual Merchandising Department.

In a room full of clothes that have been out the previous seasons, he’s tasked to create five different looks to suite each function and target market. Baekhyun starts as soon as the stylist leaves to give him 45 minutes to complete the exam.

Yifan walks and shyly greets back other employees on the way as he saunters to his office at exactly 8:55 AM. Things set on the large slick black desk as he prepares the materials for the next meetings. There’s brunch in about an hour, a few resumes to look over before lunch, and if he has a half hour to spare, he’ll catch the meet & greet of the new interns and employees. And the go-see currently happening as well, which will all definitely help the company settle in new land.

His mind wanders off once he leans back to refresh his head for the meeting. He checks his phone and still nothing he only sees the time. It’s 10:08 AM.

His secretary knocks and enters as Yifan smiles, “What’s up? Are those more applicants?” The woman is impeccably dressed and she carries herself well. Yifan is convinced she hardly looks like his secretary but more like a business partner. Today, she is wearing a light cream boat-necked polyester top that reached down to her belly button and is layered with very lithe silk chiffon of the same color. Her skirt is black and covers her waist down to the top of her knees. Her blazer is an off white linen with black piping, lapels, and lining; her shoes, nothing less than a classic pair of pointed stilettos.

“Yeah, you can look at their work later and also meet them if you have the time. The go-see needs your attention as well, and I’m thinking you should start heading over to your brunch meeting.” Stella is always on point. “Any news from the boy yet?” And she manages to pull him in and out of stress by pushing the right buttons.

“He hasn’t replied. I sent him a text this morning but… Well…” Yifan sighs and shrugs, he smiles anyway when Stella chuckles light-heartedly.

“Well, he might be having a busy morning, though, right? You’ll survive. Now, get going if you don’t want to be late!” Stella playfully reminds him of the car waiting in front of the lobby.

Baekhyun is given a two-hour break after he finished dressing up the mannequins and he feels he did fairly well. Currently sitting at a café a block down the road, he pulls his phone out before even touching the plate of salmon potato salad. A smile grows on his face as he sees the thread revived to the top of his messages.

To: Yifan
11:16 AM “Oh, cool! Yeah, we can definitely meet up. I’m free on weekends. Or lunch everyday, or after work also… tbh.”
11:17 AM “How long are you staying tho? :)”
11:17 AM “I had been busy the whole morning, I’m sorry for replying so late. >///< “

He only puts his phone down when his stomach grumbles in protest.

The afternoon makes Baekhyun a nervous bet. He’s seated among a few other people and it tenses him up not having any clue about whether he’s got this in the bag or not. Some of them look pretty much like every other fashionista during Fashion Week, the others look sophisticated and learnt, and there are those who look like they’re cosy on the outside but shockingly in-depth and serious. He’d like to think he is a little above average. He might carry on more of the mainstream labels in his closet but he’s not ignorant, he always has just been safe with his line of work being purely business—

“Mr. Byun Baekhyun, please?” His thoughts are cut off at the mention of his name and he stands on wobbly legs.

Yifan hides a laugh as he reads through the resume of a certain Byun Baekhyun. This ought to be fun! “Oh !” He remembers the texts and hurriedly fishes his personal phone out of his pocket and grins at the sight of new messages.

To: Byun Baekhyun
2:37 PM “How does dinner tonight sound?”
2:37 PM “Or a drink out? What do you feel like doing?”
2:37 PM “I think I’m