Something about the way Chanyeol walked— no, it's his shirt, wait, yes, – it's probably the look on his face, or the way his shoulders were squared and his back straight, posture erect and the way his long, lanky legs kept on striding forward towards the group of boys near the washrooms – made him look so, well, different. 

 

Something was wrong, too. Undeniably.

 

Making the weird sniffle he always does even without a runny nose, Chanyeol plays a smug grin on his lips. Pearly whites clear and bright like the early Sunday morning's sun.

 

"What's up?" Sehun nudges him with his elbow and Chanyeol nods knowingly.

 

He never, ever, never nods knowingly to Sehun (not because he never agrees with him or he disagrees with him or they don't get along just, he doesn't) all the more likely to nod knowingly with a smirk never leaving his lips.

"It's a good morning indeed," He nearly singsongs and breaks into a gentle laugh, "A very good morning." 

He was almost depicted as the subject of that old song,  For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow, and nobody can deny! because let's be real: nobody, literally, no living (and perhaps even dead) body can deny the fireworks sparks with a dash of handsome, a generous pinch of good charms and a drowning overflow of talent (with a rather ever ready positive personality) that is known by the name of Park Chanyeol. 

"Okay so it was you who stole my breadsticks?!" Baekhyun whines, making a face at Chanyeol. 

 

Chanyeol just cracks a smile.

 

"You never know," He winks and nods at Jongdae who was busy making holes on his shirt with those judgmental eyes. 

 

Then he snorts. 

 

Jongdae squints his eyes a wee bit more, his fringes tickling his eyebrows -- since he was on perm break for a week -- and his eyelashes nearly getting in the way of his stare down at Chanyeol's upper torso. 

 

"Spill, Park." 

 

Chanyeol inches away from them and cleared his throat, "Whaddya' mean spill?"

 

"You did something – that does not involve your ing shaped bread Baekhyun," (Jongdae shoved Baekhyun away rather harshly and he whines again) "And I mean something that benefited you."  

"I brushed my teeth?" Chanyeol frowns and asks, tilting his head to the side and scratching his nape, putting on a dumb face. 

At least Jongdae thought it looked dumb.

 

He keeps on tilting his head further to the side and that's the cue Sehun waited for, as if fate. 

 

"Red, angry and fresh— daaaaaamn." Sehun whistles and hits Jongdae's backpack continuously, his foot tapping the flooring fast. 

 And for some odd reason, that Chanyeol didn't really think was odd but felt that it was odd, kind of, the hairs on his back start acting up, standing proudly in his unexpectedly uneasy self that stood alternatively on his tiptoes, back to his heels and the cycle repeats again. 

 He's got butterflies in his stomach - or maybe they were space crafts zooming past each other through a wall of death in a tempestuous sea with the Kraken and a flying Godzilla-sized Dracula and-- he's gotten himself in trouble. 

 

Trouble or deep - it really didn't make a difference anymore. 

 

 

 

Not too long ago was the time when Chanyeol thought university was not as boring as it was supposed to feel like (according to Kris hyung anyway) and a place of burning hell, with tons of projects and homeworks and classmates with erectile dysfunctional male professors. 

 

Maybe the last part was stressing it but college wasn't that bad. 

 

He's made a lot of friends, gotten a lot of numbers, eaten off nearly the whole campus' lunch bags and copied off from who knows whose notes, and he guessed that's what made university life so interesting. 

 Chanyeol valued its diversity. 

 University for him was adapting to change (like Sehun's weird phone conversations in broken Chinese), introducing himself to new cultures and matters (like Baekhyun's obsession with anime voice acting and recently, bread sticks - or sticks, because that's what Jongdae called them - of different sizes), indulging himself in various activities but not forgetting his studies and learning more about, basically - life. 

 It was a training course to develop individuality and maturity, away from parents and completely unwatched with unlimited cheat codes (for games, strictly because this man has morals) and relationships to have fun with, or to break. 

 In their campus, he was most likely one of the hottest people and he is so not self-centred. Except sometimes he drops remarks like "I'm just really liked by other students," or "That's the way it's got to be, I'm so likeable," but nonetheless, he was a famous personality.

 

It's been three years through the celebrity life for Chanyeol. And he easily breezes through it, through crowds, events and other mishaps. 

 But the best part of university so far, is that now he was a senior and that meant he could do whatever he wanted (given the other burden on the shoulder which is shorter deadlines, more work, deathly and lazy profs, more assheads, and more stressful thesis things) during their college open house. 

 He loved open-houses and fairs, he was just in love with how the event was considered social but no one had the guts to socialize. 

 

You only live once, so why the hell not? 

 

It intrigues him how people are so easily scared of small talk and down to earth conversations, of simple Hi's and Hello's, even from strangers. Because in all honesty what harm would it do to you, or to anybody? 

 Chanyeol's had his share of awkward and misunderstood in high school, but he's never really been that cornered regarding his social skills. He was an outright butterfly when it came to sticky situations where your bestfriend's crush was with their current boyfriend and your bestfriend was like a frozen stick bug beside you - he's breezy, he makes his own ways through these roads and he has one life motto. 

 

You see a wall, you push through it. 

 

He's pushed far more than walls and people to get to where he was now, and Chanyeol wasn't ashamed to proclaim to the world that he was, in fact, not a wallflower even if sometimes his specs make him look like one. 

 So he's down the flight of stairs from the indoor gym and onto the grounds for the fair's upcoming talent show - where he found himself being struck with the spotlight from the stage, a thousand-something pairs of eyes on him and the speakers blaring through the silence in the cold pre-winter air of October. 

 "Can we have resident Park Chanyeol perform in his famous duo with Do Kyungsoo?" Yixing's gentle but loud words echo in his head, bounce off his skull and more importantly, makes his heart thud in his chest. 

 It wasn't something so effable that he's going to go berserk on the spot or that he'll faint because of the people (he already mentioned about liking attention, has he not?) or maybe it was just what Yixing was talking about on the microphone that was connected to, he doesn't know, sixty speakers throughout campus? 

 

He doesn't know. 

 

"Can we have a replay of two years ago?"  The question drips down the walls of the hallways, melts through the concrete of the flooring and definitely buzzes around people's heads - Chanyeol's included.

Looking forward,  he follows the other spotlight, the yellowish one in hue and sees the set up laid in front of him, and he felt like a bride walking down the aisle as he took step after step to the mic stand to pick up his guitar and do what he does best with it. 

 It was all the more a heart-stopping experience because amongst seven billion people in the world there was one pair of eyes that drilled through his skull the most. (-not that he's had the whole earthly population look at him intently)

 That looked into his eyes the most deeply, darkly and beautifully. 

 

Do Kyungsoo's. 

 

 

 

When did it start - Chanyeol doesn't know. 

 

He was never sure of most things because he liked to go with the flow, but he was assured of one thing - he plays the guitar fairly well. 

 No, he won't go around bragging about being all pro and master and senpai or the likes, but he was inevitably the Park Chanyeol who beatboxes, raps, plays a gazillion things (hearts not included, but Skyrim, yes) and he can also sing. 

 But he wasn't so sure of his voice, neither was he sure of how well it blended with his impromptu spot fill in for his first year college fair music club stall performance that went with the code name "D.O".  

 Chanyeol was not against code names, nicknames, alternative names or whatever but this, this person, this being, this small, small boy. 

 

What was he? 

 

He coughs, for he thought was going to be the last time in his whole life before his whole plan to top all the other dudes in university (like how well he did in highschool, for four straight years of being Biology lab partners with the snarky kid named Luhan who bit his shoulder in sophomore year) and crown himself King. 

 

As in King of Hearts. 

 

Because he swooned people, all of them, with his voice and his guitar and his arms (plus his legs) and his face because no one could possibly resist the Park genes, right? 

 But this miniature man of steel expressions and black fashion - this D.O, he didn't even spare him a glance when Chanyeol smiled at him with his warm, "I hope to work well with you, sing comfortably."

 What in hell's name was Baekhyun doing that he couldn't make it for today? 

 

Again, Chanyeol does not ing know. 

 

It was six minutes till the sound system would be arranged for the two of them, and D.O was just swinging his legs around, twirling his high chair like a huge baby dressed up to meet Satan in a sweater weather Lana del Ray occult. 

 Everything might not go wrong but it may also go wrong, but he pushes through walls so why not push one all over again for the sake of reputation and future Park Chanyeol aka King Park. 

 Six minutes flew by like a pigeon on Red Bull and Kyungsoo was already clearing his throat for warm up, adjusting his vocals to the strums of his guitar, which he calls Pelé because he just felt like it for some reason not too odd, not too normal either. 

 

Fixing up Pelé and a few more throat clearing noises made by D.O, they were ready to go and hit off for the performance.  They decided to top up with Billionaire by Travie McCoy and Bruno Mars because that was one of the hip songs Chanyeol used to attract attention, although he's practiced thoroughly with Baekhyun and ended up not roughing up his own vocals for the song even one bit. 

 

"Uhm," Chanyeol  starts and kind of pokes D.O awkwardly at the side, "You can do this." 

 It came out entirely as You can do this..? Can't you?  and it definitely was most likely the reason why there was a big, grumpy expression on D.O's face before the people started crowding around them slowly as he plucked the first few notes. 

 Chanyeol took seconds to groove to the rythm and the beats came in naturally, as if in sync with his heartbeat, and then the small boy began to sing. 

 

If only Hallelujah wasn't a song by some dude from SHINee, or a thing in religious mass or some kind of praise practice, he'd probably say he's cussing Hallelujah's non-stop right now. 

 D.O looked helplessly breathless as he opened that cute heart shaped lips clad mouth of his. The way his voice melts in Chanyeol's ears like chocolate and it coats his thoughts on dangerously sweet, savoury sugar and to top it all off, D.O's expressions are off the hook. 

This boy is eargasm, eyegasm, everything-gasm. 

 

Chanyeol needed God, hallelujah. 

 

He found it so very hard to keep on going on with his guitar and his short occasional hums in support to D.O's cool voice, his vibrato, his alto, his everything was like watching chocolate drip from a fountain in slowmotion before it lands on top of a fluff of marshmallows and - Chanyeol wants to devour him. 

 

He was beautiful. 

 

The way his eyes looked here and there, his tiny, cute fingers tapping his thigh to the beat, his throat flexing as he hits his notes right and his mouth - that sneaky little mouth that smirks whilst singing, he needs to get rid of that. 

Chanyeol was sure his guitar was the only thing masking the sound of him getting semi-hard in his pants and the sound of his heartbeat that was slowly making cracks on his ribcage. 

Nothing beat the sound of claps after every performance but for once, something else took over the sound of a good applause in his systems when he heard his laugh. 

 

Hallelujah. 

 

He was running out of metaphorical statements to compare to D.O's unerathly, godly, out of this world, heavenly, ethereal voice but he was so, so, so - want-able? 

It's a feeling Chanyeol slowly felt pulling in his gut, when he stared with a dumb smile on his mouth, at D.O who laughed and giggled at the random compliments coming from the crowd of students in front of them, who were clapping and asking for an encore. 

 

"Sing another Bruno Mars song!"

 

"B.o.B's song, what's that called again?"

 

"Encore, encore!!"

 

"Uhm," Chanyeol side eyes D.O and he nods at him, that heart-shaped smile playing on his lips like a melifluous melody to Chanyeol's eyes because right now he thinks everything he hears and sees is beautiful because D.O makes everything spin and that includes Chanyeol's mind. 

 

"Kyungsoo-yah sing!"

 

That was his name, Kyungsoo, and , it was as beautiful as him and his huge perfection in such a tiny body of a five year old looking boy with round eyes and heart shaped plump lips and a heart warming smile with small fingers and an odd inkling to black clothes - he guessed. 

He'd love to hear more from Kyungsoo, more of Kyungsoo. 

And that one time, as he searched up imaginary lyrical and music sheets in his head for their encore performance, he's had one goal up in his mind that nobody else but he knew about:  to give up his original goal in college. 

 

Be the King of Kyungsoo's heart instead. 

 

---

I did not proof-read part 1, forgive me for any mistakes!

Next parts coming up soon! 

 

Elise