pairing: ChenLay
length: 1992 words
Part Two: Room C4

He was untouchable.

At least that’s what Yixing thought when he first laid eyes on the new kid. He spoke in short, abrupt sentences, and kept away from everyone else. No one attempted to approach him, because he gave off a biting aura that was silently telling everyone around him to stay away. Even though Yixing wanted to go up to him, talk to him, and figure out what lay behind that stone-cold exterior, one look from the new kid kept him rooted in place.

When he had introduced himself on that first day, speaking in short, clipped tones, Yixing had searched his expressionless face for any clue as to who he was. But there had been nothing. The new kid had such a perfect poker face that Yixing mused one afternoon that he must be a professional gambler. Of course the new kid wasn’t. They were just teenagers after all. Although Yixing wouldn’t be surprised if this absurd notion actually turned out to be true. The new kid seemed capable of things that no one else their age would ever dare.

Every day, Yixing studied him. Although his notebook was laying open on his desk, the pencil he gripped between his fingers no longer graced the thin, blank pages. Not since the new kid had transferred. The teacher’s insufferably boring lectures about theorems, laws, and other useless things went straight over Yixing’s head as he kept his eyes fixed on the new kid who also never paid attention to the lessons.

Yixing didn’t know what to do. The new kid was just so alluring in an inexplicable way and he stood out among the hundreds of students that attended the school. The mystery that surrounded him and his aloof personality was too intriguing for Yixing to pass up, and he found himself staring at the new kid any chance he got while they were at school.

Even lunch times weren’t void of the curious student staring at the new kid, who always sat in the same spot every single day: the fourth table from the exit on the left side, third seat on the right half on the edge further away from the door. The new kid always had the same brown paper bag with him, never buying lunch like the majority of students. He ate methodically, a water bottle always placed to his right with the brown bag acting as a placemat to catch the crumbs of his daily sandwich. He cycled through different fruits every day and there would always be a carton of yogurt to his left.

“Hey, Yixing, are you listening?”

“Uh, what?” Yixing snapped his gaze away from the new kid, who was eating his sandwich with one hand and cupping an open book in the other.

Henry sighed, having caught Yixing staring at the new kid for the third time that week. “Zitao was asking if we were free for a sleepover at his house this weekend.”

Zitao nodded, adding in an excited voice, “My parents are going on a business trip, so we have the whole place to ourselves.”

“Oh. Uh, sure. Yeah, I’m free.” Yixing tried not to let his eyes stray back to the new kid again, but just couldn’t help stealing a few more glances. He was now eating around the crusts of his sandwich as he usually did, rotating the sandwich while he bit around the edges.

“Yixing!”

“Y-yes?” Yixing quickly shifted his focus back to his friends, who were all looking at him peculiarly.

“Dude, are you okay?” Jackson asked, concern crossing his face. “It’s like your mind is never here with us whenever we hang out at school nowadays.”

Yixing looked down with the tips of his ears turning red, slightly ashamed that his borderline obsession with the new kid was affecting the time he spent with the three friends he had been with for most of his years, through thick and thin. “Sorry.”

“What’s so interesting about him anyway?” Henry jerked his thumb in the direction of the new kid, knowing he had been occupying Yixing’s mind as of late.

Yixing didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t know why he was so drawn to the new kid. He didn’t know what was so spectacularly gravitating about the new kid. Everything was a mystery to him.

He guessed he just really wanted to know who the new kid was.

--

Yixing looked gloomily at the sheets of paper that were completely covered with red ink scrawls. His teachers had completely ripped his essays and other assignments to shreds. Henry, who was in the same class as Yixing, only tsked when the other boy slammed his head on top of his flimsy wooden desk in dejection.

“You only have yourself to blame for these marks, you know,” Henry told him without a hint of sympathy as he briefly riffled through Yixing’s papers. “If you paid just a fraction of attention to these lectures as you do to Kim Jongdae, then you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

He hated to admit it, but Henry wasn’t wrong. If Yixing hadn’t been so fixated on Jongdae, the new kid, then he wouldn’t be currently staring at these below average scores highlighted on his schoolwork. His parents were going to kill him if they knew his grades had recently been on a steady decline. They had never been very supportive of him and his friends forming a dance team together, and this would just be another reason for them to argue that Yixing should quit such a frivolous and meaningless activity. He knew he should head to the library so he could begin revising his essays and learning the material he was behind on, but he just wasn’t in the mood at the moment.

So Yixing crossed into the arts section of the campus, heading for the dance practice rooms. He needed to lose himself for a moment and dancing was just the thing to take his mind off of his current predicament. Since the dance practice rooms were in the basement of the music building, Yixing made his way into the giant white-colored, rectangular structure. The hallways were empty, since school had already ended an hour ago. Those who were registered in the arts course used these buildings during the day and vacated them by the time school ended so that the regular course students could utilize them for extracurricular activities.

And then he heard the loveliest singing to have ever graced his ears in this lifetime. Even if it was slightly muted, Yixing could hear the perfectly pitched notes being sung in quick succession. He had never heard such a voice before, which was strange. Yixing was quite familiar with numerous students from the arts course, since his aunt was a vocal trainer and many of them took lessons from her. He knew he would have remembered hearing such a unique voice as the one he had just stumbled upon.

There was just one room with its door closed, so Yixing sidled up to it and silently pressed down the metal door handle to open the door. He pushed it open just a crack and peered through to see whose voice was creating such melodic sounds. And to his surprise, it was the person who had been the object of his fascination since he transferred to the school.

Jongdae was seated at the large grand piano in the middle of the room, his eyes closed as he ran through a song without missing a beat. Yixing opened the door a bit wider to give himself enough space to noiselessly slip into the room with Jongdae noticing him. He didn’t want to interrupt the new kid’s amazing performance, so he made sure to keep as quiet as possible. As he listened, Yixing realized he had never seen such a look of serenity on the stoic boy’s face before. He thought to himself that Jongdae looked so at peace with his tranquil expression giving him a softer appearance instead of his usually sharp features.

As the song continued, Yixing felt the air shimmer with the lasting reverberations of Jongdae’s magical voice. He honestly would be completely okay with dying at this point. Jongdae’s singing was just that good. It was hard to believe that this brusque loner was hiding such a golden talent.

And then, as he was singing, Jongdae glanced to the side and saw Yixing stand there with a dumb, gaping expression. A loud screech filled the air as the new kid immediately stood up, his legs roughly pushing back the piano bench he had been sitting on. Yixing flinched from the sudden, unpleasant noise.

“Who said you could come in here?” Jongdae asked scathingly, his hands tightly grasping the now slightly crumpled music sheets that had been sitting on the piano’s built-in music stand. “The sign outside clearly says that this room is occupied and that no visitors are to come in.”

Yixing didn’t mean for his presence to cause Jongdae to stop singing. The boy had such a beautiful voice. It seemed criminal that no one knew of his God-given talent. “I-I just wanted to know who was singing so wonderfully,” the older boy answered, slightly stammering out of nervousness from being confronted so directly. Not to mention, this was the first time he had ever spoken to Jongdae. It was strange to finally have the new kid talk directly to him, instead of standing to the side while Jongdae curtly spoke to others, asking them to get out of his way. “Your voice is really great,” Yixing continued, hoping that some kind words would pacify the obviously angered student. “I’ve never heard someone sing so beautifully in my life.”

“Then you obviously don’t go out much, do you,” Jongdae responded, looking disdainfully at Yixing. His heart was racing wildly in his chest, being caught by someone for the first time. No one had ever heard his voice before. No one. And now this random kid had stumbled into his practice room uninvited.

Although he was uncomfortable with the other student standing there, Jongdae would be lying if he said that Yixing’s compliments didn’t inflate his ego just a bit. Because no one knew that he sang, he had never had the luxury of someone praising his voice before.

“You should join the music club! Or act in one of the school musicals!” Yixing suggested excitedly, ignoring the jabbing remark from the new kid.

“I don’t perform in public,” Jongdae answered flatly. He had no interest in gracing others with the privilege of listening to him sing. And he certainly didn’t want more strangers barging in during his private time. These precious moments were for him and him alone.

“Well, can I at least come here and listen to you sing more? I honestly really like hearing your voice. Even if you don’t think it’s incredible, I do.”

There was a long stretch of silence. A crestfallen expression began appearing on Yixing’s face, since he knew there was an almost nonexistent chance of Jongdae saying yes. Which meant he would never get to hear that melodious voice ever again.

“Fine.”

Yixing almost couldn’t believe his ears. Did Jongdae actually agree to allow Yixing to act as his audience from now on? He was almost about to write it off as an auditory hallucination until Jongdae continued speaking.

“I come here every afternoon at four to sing. If you want to listen, you can come. But you absolutely cannot bring anyone else,” Jongdae warned, his eyes sending daggers in Yixing’s direction to emphasize his point. “You’re the only other person I’m going to allow in here, so don’t go spreading this around. Got it?”

“Got it!” Yixing couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come so he could return to listen to the new kid’s singing. He was finally on the path to unraveling the mystery that was Kim Jongdae. 

♈♈♈