xiii.

As good a distraction as it was at the time, the afterglow of a beautiful Saturday spent together couldn't dull the edges of Chanyeol's nerves about the following day's performance. Waking up the next morning to an empty bed and a handwritten note left on his pillow didn't help. In the note, Baekhyun explained that he didn’t want to wake Chanyeol because he looked like he really needed the sleep, but he would come past later that afternoon to pick him up before the concert. Chanyeol finished reading it and flopped back onto his bed with outstretched arms, like a child making a snow angel, the tiny piece of paper flitting away from his fingers. He rolled around helplessly for a while, longing for Baekhyun, for his cuddles and sweet kisses, feeling the loss of his warmth already.

When he went into the kitchen to get a glass of water for his pills, he saw that Baekhyun had made him breakfast — a stack of pancakes, which he'd left on a plate on the bench. They looked and smelled delicious, and within seconds Chanyeol felt his mouth watering. Baekhyun had also arranged all the magnets on the fridge into a smiley face, and had left another note pinned beneath one of them that read ‘don't worry, be happy’, followed by a tiny heart.

Chanyeol stood there at the bench and ate his breakfast, smiling at the little note the whole time.

***

The backstage area of the concert hall was chaos — there was no other way to describe it. All those people rushing around half-dressed, clouds of hairspray, make-up smeared everywhere. A flurry of tulle and feathers, sparkling sequins, flashes of blinding colour and glitter stuck to absolutely everything. Chanyeol had never witnessed a spectacle so dazzlingly, jaw-droppingly intimidating before in his life.

Baekhyun stood in front of a mirror, doing his make-up. He was dressed in a perfectly fitted black tuxedo, one he’d saved from his competition days — or ‘those days of yore’, as he called them with some irony, as if they were long ago and legendary. His hair was swept up off his forehead and he looked even more handsome than he usually did, which Chanyeol hadn’t thought possible until he’d first laid eyes on him earlier that afternoon. Chanyeol had hired his performance outfit, since all of the suits he owned were either grey, or navy, or a little too tight to move around freely, or had been worn to the funerals of extended family members — there was no way in hell he’d wear a funeral suit to dance in. It just seemed like an extremely unlucky thing to do, and he needed all the luck he could get right now.

“I know it’s terrible timing, but I’m having serious second thoughts,“ he whispered to Baekhyun — who was now busy lining his eyes with a black kohl pencil. He was sweating in places he didn't know he could sweat, and the anxiety was making him sleepy, which was an even bigger problem. He could only hope that the adrenaline would kick in at the right time and get him through, without him making an idiot of both of them; but the more Chanyeol thought about it, the more it seemed like this would require a heavenly miracle.

Baekhyun capped the eyeliner pencil and dropped it back into his make-up case. He turned away from the mirror to face Chanyeol, fixing his bow tie with a gentle expression. “Why are you so worried? You’ve been great over the past few practices — practically perfect, in fact. You’ve worked really hard for this, and it shows. And you know I’m not one to hand out compliments if they’re not deserved.”

“I’m just not sure I can do this on my own, without tanking half-way through,” Chanyeol whispered. “That’s all.”

Baekhyun just smiled and grabbed Chanyeol by both of his hands. “You’re not on your own, dumbo… you’re with me. Anyway, you think I'm here doing this on my own? I'm constantly fumbling around in the dark with my health situation, just like you are.” He paused to smooth out the satin lapels on Chanyeol’s jacket, still with that tender look in his eyes. “But I came here tonight hoping for the best, because sometimes hoping for the best is all I have. And even if things go a bit pear-shaped… well, it's okay. I just want to get up on that stage and dance with someone I really care about. That’s all I came here to do.”

When he’d finished speaking, Baekhyun looked up at Chanyeol, smiled, and stood on his toes to kiss him. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, whispering against Chanyeol’s lips. He kissed him once more, throwing both arms around his neck. “It’s only a silly concert. I’m just happy to be here with you.”

Chanyeol smiled into the kiss, his hands coming to rest on either side of Baekhyun’s waist. “Me too.”

“And anyway, if all else fails, just make ‘em laugh.” Baekhyun bopped Chanyeol on the end of the nose with his finger.

Chanyeol gave him a withering look in return. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because it doesn’t,” he said, but Baekhyun just laughed.

“Come on, you know I’m only joking.” Now he was fixing Chanyeol’s hair, combing it into place with his fingers; Chanyeol would have told him to stop, but truthfully he loved it when Baekhyun fussed over him. “Now remember, we're here to have fun. We've practised both of these dances so many times that I’m sure you could do them both blindfolded, if you had to. You can do this, I promise.”

Maybe Baekhyun was right, Chanyeol thought, his mood brightening a little when Baekhyun reached out to hold his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Maybe it was one of those things where simply believing in himself would be enough, even if he did feel woefully unprepared. “I think I’ll just pop into the bathroom and splash some water on my face,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Baekhyun’s mouth. “Thanks, babe… I feel a lot better now. I’ll be back in a jiff.”

“Okay. See you in a bit.” Baekhyun smiled and waved him off. Chanyeol walked a couple of steps backwards, and watched his new boyfriend standing there, strong and still in the whirlwind of colour and movement. How beautiful he was, how he glowed with happiness… and what a lovely picture it made, even without Chanyeol in it. Tearing his eyes away took some effort, and he turned around and headed for the bathroom.

Afterwards, feeling refreshed and slightly more prepared to face his fears, Chanyeol rejoined Baekhyun backstage, where they would wait to be called out for their first dance. They were only second up to perform, and Chanyeol knew he wouldn't have a lot of time to be nervous about it. The Foxtrot was to be the first of their two performances for the evening — “we’ll work our way up to the hard stuff,” Baekhyun said. They looked on while a couple from the intermediate class performed an energetic version of the Jive; Chanyeol stood at the edge of the stage, peering out through the curtain, with Baekhyun standing just behind him. He knew his friends were out there somewhere; the stage lights were so bright he couldn't really make out the faces of anyone in the audience, but that was probably for the best. He felt a warm hand grabbing hold of his own, and wished he'd wiped his hands on his trousers first, since they were slippery with sweat. “When we’re out there, look only at me,” Baekhyun whispered in his ear. “Pretend it's just the two of us, and you'll be fine.”

Chanyeol looked down at his boogie shoes, saw the stars on his toes and felt lucky. He met Baekhyun’s eye and smiled. Baekhyun smiled back at him and squeezed his hand, and although Chanyeol still felt like his stomach would fall out of his bum, something about those lovely little crinkles at the corners of Baekhyun's eyes settled him, made him feel much calmer. He took a deep breath and went back to watching the couple in front of them, swallowing thickly when he saw them taking their bows at the end of their performance.

As soon as they were introduced, Baekhyun led Chanyeol out onto the stage to the sound of applause, cheering and wolf-whistles from the audience. He turned his head to meet Chanyeol's eye, winking at him, and they stood side by side with their arms outstretched, holding each other by the hand. Baekhyun twirled in until they were facing each other, and they began to dance; Chanyeol's beginning steps were tentative, but as he got used to the feeling of being on stage and his eyes adjusted to the lighting, he got more and more into it. He counted the steps in his head at first, but he quickly forgot about counting altogether; Baekhyun was right — everyone and everything in the room seemed to fade away, and then he stopped feeling the floor beneath them, like walking on a dream. It was just the two of them now, him and Baekhyun, with his starry eyes and beautiful smile. He never looked away as long as they were facing each other, and all of Chanyeol's fears seemed to melt into non-existence. He was only aware of Baekhyun's warm hand on his shoulder, and his own hand on Baekhyun’s back, lightly tracing his shoulder-blade through his jacket. Looking deep into Chanyeol’s eyes, Baekhyun mouthed the words to the song. He couldn’t stop smiling.

‘Some day, when I'm awfully low

When the world is cold

I will feel a glow just thinking of you,

And the way you look tonight’

Chanyeol dipped Baekhyun gently, still looking into his eyes. Baekhyun smiled out at the audience until Chanyeol lifted him back up, and their eyes met again; those beautiful eyes, so dark and hypnotic. Two steps back, two to the side. The warmth of Baekhyun’s body as Chanyeol held him close; a body he’d had become intimate with in ways he'd never thought possible back when they first met.

‘With each word, your tenderness grows,

Tearing my fear apart

And that laugh that wrinkles your nose,

It touches my foolish heart’

Chanyeol couldn’t keep it to himself any longer; he leaned in with his lips to Baekhyun's ear and whispered “I love you.” He couldn’t tell if Baekhyun heard him over the music, but his smile seemed even brighter after that. They held their hands out to the side, both their heads turning to face the audience, promenading toward the edge of the stage. Chanyeol quickly scanned the sea of faces until he saw his friends, sitting in the centre of the hall, several rows from the front: Amber, Jongdae, Joohyun and Kibum, they were all there. But there was someone else, too, sitting right in the middle of them all — a young man with dark hair falling over his face, plump lips curved into a smile, his gaze focused on Chanyeol.

Jongin? No… it couldn’t be. But it was, and Chanyeol inhaled so sharply that he felt it all the way down to his buckling knees.

‘Lovely, don’t you ever change

Keep that breathless charm’

Baekhyun's smile faded, his expression switching to one of confusion. Chanyeol stumbled and fell backwards, pulling Baekhyun down with him, and the audience, who until then had been cheering and clapping, fell into a deafening silence. The only sound left was the music, a once tender song mutating into something haunting and sinister, the words ‘my foolish heart’ echoing inside Chanyeol's head. He could feel Baekhyun stirring on top of him, letting out a little groan of pain, but he was exhausted, too weak to move or say anything. Every atom of his existence screamed for sleep.

Please, just let me sleep.

When he opened his eyes, he was sitting on the sand down at the beach. Baekhyun was a little way along, dancing by himself on the edge of the shore, the sea lapping at his ankles. As he watched Baekhyun dance alone, a feeling of grief washed over Chanyeol, so profound that he was paralysed by it; the further Baekhyun moved away, the worse it got, a sorrow so unbearable that he found it hard to breathe. He tried to get up to follow Baekhyun, anything to make that terrible feeling go away, but it kept doubling him over, his own despair tripping him up unti