iv.

Chanyeol was on his way to pick up some breakfast before work when he happened upon an old upright piano that someone had left out in the street, stool and all. He stopped and stood there for a moment, looking at it; the lacquered wood was scratched and dull in certain areas, and he traced some of the scratches with his fingertips, then lifted up the cover to see if all the keys were still there. Some of them were discoloured from their original creamy ivory to yellow or pale brown, but when he ran his fingers along them, none of them were stuck. Looking around to see if anyone was watching, he sat down and began to play. The poor old girl was out of tune, and probably hadn’t been played for quite some time, but that was okay. Some of the people walking past stopped for a moment to listen, smiled at him and then continued on their way.

Chanyeol’s eyes fluttered closed as his fingers danced across the keys. What bliss… and yet with that bliss came the weight behind his eyes; that exhausting, crushing weight of emotion on his fragile consciousness. He already knew he was probably going to fall asleep, that was a given. But how long could he cheat it for? That was always the question in the back of his mind: how much time he had left before the lights went out.

He knew he could play an entire piece quite easily if it was a shorter one, especially if he felt indifferent about it. But something like Chopin’s Prelude in E Minor, a stormy little piece that he loved dearly, was more of a challenge. From the corner of his eye, Chanyeol noticed a small group of people standing around him now, listening to him play; it made him a little nervous, but he smiled shyly to himself, not meeting anyone’s eyes, and kept going. “Go Mr. Park!” a child’s voice called out — one of his students, probably, although he couldn't tell from the voice alone who it was. The applause made him glow inside with happiness. Being this happy only made him sleepier, but he was almost there. There wasn’t that much left of the song, and he was going to make it to the end.

He looked up for a second, just in time to see Baekhyun appear; he stood right behind the piano, his red hair blazing in the morning sun. His sudden appearance nearly threw Chanyeol off, but he recovered just in time. Baekhyun smiled at him, waiting until Chanyeol was finished playing before he spoke. “That was great… I didn’t even know you played. You’re incredibly gifted.”

Chanyeol smiled back. “Thanks.”

Baekhyun held out his hand. “Would you like to dance with me?”

Chanyeol hesitated. “Uh… right now..?” Baekhyun grabbed him by the hand and pulled him up, twirling him around on the pavement. Taken completely by surprise, Chanyeol almost fell over; the people gathered around whistled in delight, clapping and cheering at the spectacle. Someone else sat down at the piano and began to play the Minute Waltz, which was perfect for them to dance to, and Baekhyun led Chanyeol out into the street, spinning him around and around, over and over, until he began to feel dizzy.

He'd never felt so dizzy before… dizzy with happiness and excitement and infatuation.

“Hey.” There was a voice in his ear; an urgent whisper. “Hey, Chanyeol. Are you alright..?”

Chanyeol opened his eyes and tried to lift his head, but he couldn't. Sunlight burned his vision and he looked up, blinking at the face above him until it grew clearer. He was lying on his back on a public bench, and Baekhyun was standing over him, looking concerned. He was leaning on something — a cane, Chanyeol realised, made of dark polished wood, topped with a duck head made of bronze.

“I’m okay,” Chanyeol said, when he was able to form the words again. “What happened..?” He had a feeling he already knew what had happened, but playing dumb seemed like a better idea.

“I was standing over there with a bunch of other people, watching you play that abandoned piano,” Baekhyun said. “You were really good by the way… I didn’t even know you were a musician, you sly thing. But all of a sudden you fainted, so I got someone to help me carry you over to this bench. I was about to go get help, but… then you started waking up.”

So the dancing in the street was just a dream, then. Sighing, Chanyeol slowly sat up. “Thanks, but I’m fine… I just felt a bit lightheaded, that’s all.”

Baekhyun looked at him, chewing his lip. “Are you on your way to somewhere right now?”

Chanyeol’s eyes widened when he remembered the day’s plans. He looked at his watch, relieved to see it was only a little before nine o’clock — his first session for the day didn’t start until ten. “Well, yeah. But I don’t have to be there for another hour.”

“Great.” Leaning his cane against the side of the bench, Baekhyun held out his hand to help Chanyeol to his feet. “Let me shout you breakfast, then. Maybe you just need to get some sugar in you.”

“Oh, no thanks, I—”

“Please, I insist,” Baekhyun said, without letting Chanyeol finish. “Are you a pancake fan? Pancake Heaven isn’t far from here.”

Chanyeol sighed and nodded his head. “Yeah, I am,” he said, smiling at Baekhyun. “Sounds great.”

“Then it’s settled. Actually, I was kind of hoping I’d bump into you again.” Baekhyun was still just as chatty as Chanyeol remembered him being; he wasn’t really in a talkative mood himself, but it was cute. “You never came back after your first lesson, and I’ll admit I was a bit disappointed... I thought you had a lot of potential. It seemed to me like you enjoyed yourself that night, but I’m sorry if I was wrong.”

“No, not at all,” Chanyeol said, “I really did have fun. I’ve just been very busy lately, and haven’t really had the time to attend classes. But this thing about me having potential is news to me… I was convinced I was crap at it.”

Baekhyun just laughed. “What are you talking about? You did great. I would even go as far as saying you’re a natural — which is funny because, in my experience, the tall gangly ones usually have a lot of trouble controlling their limbs, at first.”

“Ah, well, I’m flattered.” Chanyeol eyed the cane and Baekhyun’s unsteady, slightly lopsided gait as they walked together. “Forgive me for prying, but did you injure yourself..?”

“Huh? Oh, this old thing — no, I’m not injured.” Baekhyun was quiet for a moment, and then he said, “I have multiple sclerosis, actually, and sometimes I need a cane to help me walk. It only happens when I’m in the middle of a relapse; at other times, I’m perfectly fine, and you probably wouldn’t even know about it if I didn’t tell you.”

Chanyeol’s brow furrowed. “Oh… right. I see. I thought you’d gone and sprained something…” and then his voice trailed off into nothing. Better to stop now, he thought, and avoid saying anything stupid or offensive.

Baekhyun fell silent again, and Chanyeol swallowed nervously — he hoped he hadn’t offended him after all. But then he just laughed, the joyful sound slicing right through the tense silence. “I’m okay, really… although today is not one of my better days, hence needing a bit of help from Abel. That’s the name of my cane, by the way. It’s a play on Cain and Abel — and also, when I’m with Abel, I’m a little more Able. I’m sure you’re rolling your eyes at me right now, but it still makes me chuckle.”

A cane called Abel, indeed. “Very punny,” Chanyeol said, laughing a little to be polite, and up flew one hand to cover his mouth, trapping the laughter inside. He’d let some of it slip out, and it made his knees wobble a bit, but not enough to put him in the danger zone. He would have to be careful around Baekhyun, he thought; he lured various feelings right out of Chanyeol without any warning, and that was dangerous when he already had little control over his own body. When they arrived at Pancake Heaven, he held open the door for Baekhyun, waiting for him to enter first. “After you,” he said with a smile, and they sat down at a little table inside, browsing through their menus, Baekhyun’s cane propped up between his knees. Chanyeol noticed Baekhyun staring at him for a moment, then looking away and smiling to himself when he was caught. He began to laugh again.

He sure did laugh a lot, this guy. “Is something funny?” Chanyeol asked.

“I asked you what you felt like eating just now, and you didn't respond,” Baekhyun said, beaming at him. “You're in your head a lot, aren't you? Don’t worry, I’m like that sometimes too.”

Chanyeol frowned; he didn’t even realise Baekhyun had spoken. “Huh? Oh… sorry about that.”

Baekhyun shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. Actually, it’s kinda cute.”

I’m not in my head, Chanyeol thought. I just want to sleep.

Baekhyun went back to his menu, still smiling to himself. “Speaking of apologies, it’s really nice to tell someone about the whole MS thing, and not get an immediate reply of ‘I’m so sorry’..”

Chanyeol frowned, looking up at him again. “Why would anyone say that?”

“Well, people seem to think that having MS means you’re dying, or that you’re in a wheelchair 24/7… neither is true, in my case. I only use a wheelchair occasionally, and I’m certainly not dying.” Baekhyun laughed a little and added, “at least, not t