Hello lovelies. I apologize in advance for errors. This isn't edited and it's finals week, and the only reason this chapter is up is because it's seven in the morning and I haven't slept all night :)

Enjoy! It's a fun chapter...

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Yifan groaned as Minseok’s phone went off for the fourteenth time in the past five minutes, the bzzt bzzt reverbing painfully loud through the wooden table.

“Who is texting you?” Yifan yelled down the hallway, hoping his voice could pierce through the sound of the shower. He was apparently successful, since a few seconds later he heard the water shut off and Minseok’s voice yelling back.

“What?”

“Your phone,” Yifan angled himself toward the bathroom, his voice bouncing down the hall. “Who’s texting you? It’s gone off like fifty times since you got in the shower.”

He heard a small crash from the bathroom, some scrabbling, maybe a thump or two. Two minutes later Minseok emerged, hair still wet but with clothes on. “I’ve been getting texts?”

“Lots of them,” Yifan replied, handing his roommate his phone with a huff. “I want to know who the it is.”

Minseok grinned. “You met him,” he said, sticking out his tongue.

“I what?”

“You met him.” Minseok typed something back, his phone whooshing as he hit send. “He’s an artist.”

“An artist?”

“Yeah,” Minseok grinned, plopping into his chair with a piece of toast. He munched a bit, grimacing when he came to the part he’d slightly burnt. “He takes photographs. And you gave me his number.”

“Wait. What?” Yifan stared at Minseok, mouth agape. “Wait. Are you talking about C.Y. Park? The guy I just signed on for an exhibit?”

Minseok nodded, standing up again to pour himself a glass of orange juice. He took his phone with him, smiling as it buzzed again.

PhotoGod Park (8:03 am): when are you going to come to LA?

Xiumin (8:04 am): when I have abs. 

PhotoGod Park (8:04 am): why would you need those?

Xiumin (8:04 am): gotta show off that beach bod ya know?

PhotoGod Park (8:05 am): oh please. I’m sure that you’ve got enough abs for the beach.

Xiumin (8:05 am): how would you know?

PhotoGod Park (8:06 am): eh just a guess ;D

Yifan coughed from where he sat at the table. “Having fun over there?” he asked, his eyebrow raised. “You’re smiling like you’ve got a crush.”

Minseok spluttered. “I’m sorry I’ve got a what?” He hid his phone behind his back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re just friends. He’s nice.”

“I can’t believe you’re texting one of my contracted artists.”

“We’re just friends,” Minseok whined.

Yifan stood, taking his dishes to the sink. “Just be careful,” he said, clanking around to find the sponge beneath all the dirty spoons and forks. “You just got over a douche soulmate. Don’t fall for a douche not-soulmate too, okay?”

“He seems douchey?” Minseok asked, obviously not hearing anything else Yifan had said.

“I mean, not really?” Yifan scratched his head. “He didn’t talk much honestly. I think I might have scared him a bit. So he’s probably nice. But honestly Min,” Yifan sat down in the chair across from Minseok’s, “it’s you I’m worried about. You’re too nice. You get too attached too fast. And you haven’t even met the guy! I guess I just want you to make sure he’s actually worth it before you start flirting up a storm? How’d you end up talking to him again?”

Minseok barely looked up from his phone. “He drunk texted me.”

Yifan buried his head in his arms, letting out a sigh of defeat. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Minseok’s phone buzzed again. His friend took another bite of his toast.

“I’m not.”

Chanyeol smiled at Junmyeon from where he stood talking to one of his models. They were doing an underwear shoot today, and with any luck his exhibit at the Lia Gallery would be successful and this shoot would be one of his last. Junmyeon frowned back, pointing tiredly at Chanyeol’s phone. Chanyeol felt his smile creep even wider. Only one thing would make Junmyeon that bitter about Chanyeol’s phone: Xiumin.

The man had proven himself to be bitingly funny, with a dry sort of wit that Chanyeol could only hope he’d get the chance to someday experience in person. He’d never been so successful after drunk texting someone. Honestly, he’d never been so successful texting anyone ever, drunk or not. For some reason, he never knew quite what to say. But with Xiumin it all flowed naturally, the jokes, the banter, the stories. Half the time they weren’t even talking about anything important—which was probably what was pissing Junmyeon off so hard. It was dumb things, like something stupid Chanyeol had to do for a shoot, or some silly story that Xiumin had from working in the gallery. He walked over to Junmyeon with a spring in his step. His friend raised an eyebrow.

“You know, you should probably meet this guy.”

Chanyeol waved him away. “I will eventually. But he can’t come down to LA.”

“He can’t? Why?” Junmyeon asked.

“No money,” Chanyeol replied, sitting down in the chair across from Junmyeon’s. “Apparently, he got really sick a few months back, lost his job. He’s still paying off bills. Kris is an old friend of his who offered to hire him.”

“And that doesn’t sound vaguely sketchy at all to you?” Junmyeon pressed.

Chanyeol looked up. “No Joon,” he replied, his eyes sincere. “Xiumin is a good guy, I can feel it.” Junmyeon huffed buy chose to stay silent. Chanyeol returned to his phone.

Xiumin (1:46 pm): you won’t believe what I just saw

Xiumin (1:47 pm): [image attached]

Xiumin (1:47 pm): she’s not wearing pants. Like I’m both fascinated and horrified. Is that even legal here? I could’ve sworn that counts as indecent exposure.

Xiumin (1:49 pm): oh ohoh she’s coming in.

Xiumin (1:50 pm): is it bad form to hide behind the information desk?

Xiumin (1:53 pm): we’re all good Kris came and talked to her and now she’s leaving. Apparently she’s expressing her freedom? Kris told her to express her freedom somewhere else cuz the gallery is a “family friendly zone”

Xiumin (1:54 pm): which is bull

Xiumin (1:54 pm): cuz like an entire room is just photos.

Xiumin (1:55 pm): but whatever she’s gone I’m happy. Anyway how’re you?

PhotoGod Park (2:07 pm): I’m good. But wow that’s wild. She really wasn’t wearing pants?!

Xiumin (2:08 pm): oh hey you’re on your phone! And yeah she really wasn’t. what are you up to?

PhotoGod Park (2:08 pm): I’ve got a shoot :(

PhotoGod Park (2:09 pm): it’s underwear

PhotoGod Park (2:10 pm); have I ever told you how much I hate underwear shoots?

Xiumin (2:13 pm): no but I’m curious

PhotoGod Park (2:14 pm): oh my god they’re the worst.

PhotoGod Park (2:14 pm): like first off, very few people can look good in this underwear.

PhotoGod Park (2:15 pm): also, women? Not my thing.

Xiumin (2:16 pm): so you’re a dude?

PhotoGod Park (2:17 pm): through and through. are great.

Xiumin (2:18 pm): same though

PhotoGod Park (2:18 pm): wait what?

Xiumin (2:32 pm): sorry had to help a customer.

Xiumin (2:33 pm): but yeah I’m a dude.

Xiumin (2:33 pm): as you so eloquently put it, are great.  

Minseok turned off his phone, trying not to look like he was waiting for the screen to light up again with a message. But nothing came. Minseok tried not to let the panic well up too quickly in his chest, but when fifteen minutes passed with nothing he began to worry. It’s probably fine, he reassured himself. He’s probably just busy taking photos. Of course, Minseok grinned to himself, he was busy. That’s all.

He looked back at his phone screen. Still dark. He turned it on, opening to his messages. His last text glared back at him, still no response. His fingers hovered over his keyboard, typing out a text. He stared at the send button for a few minutes, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. He pushed send.

Xiumin (2:49 pm): Park?

Chanyeol stared at the conversation on his phone, trying not to scream. Or cry. He could honestly do both right then, staring at the little grey text bubble in front of him. Xiumin was into guys. Xiumin was into guys. Which meant that Xiumin maybe, just maybe, could be into him. Chanyeol had a ing chance and he wanted to dance for joy.

Junmyeon groaned next to him. “What now?” Chanyeol swiveled toward his friend with a thousand-watt grin and Junmyeon flinched away, throwing his hands up in front of his face. “I’m sorry I asked I don’t really want to know.”

“Xiumin is into guys man.”

Junmyeon put his hands down, tilting his head and looking at Chanyeol as if he were looking at one of those monkeys that likes to jump around and play with things at the zoo, the kind of monkey that everyone likes to watch because it actually does things, instead of just laying around. “Huh,” Junmyeon acknowledged, “fascinating.” Chanyeol felt offended by that for some reason. He threw a fry at him but Junmyeon barely batted an eye, reaching for his chocolate shake without so much as a flinch.

“This is a big deal Joon.”

“Why?” Junmyeon asked, his tone carefully neutral even as he raised an eyebrow.

Chanyeol huffed, running his hands through his hair, pushing the curls away from his forehead. “I have a chance with him. I mean,” Chanyeol paused, reaching for his coke and taking a long sip. He put his drink down. “I like him Joon. A lot. I think. And I’ve never even met the guy.” He laughed a little at that, the sound a bit high-pitched and strained, like he’d just shared a joke with Junmyeon that wasn’t actually funny. “Christ Joon, I’ve got a crush on a guy and I don’t even know what he looks like.” Junmyeon didn’t laugh. Instead he reached out and placed a warm hand over Chanyeol’s, slightly greasy from the fries, and squeezed. Chanyeol squeezed back and tried to pretend like he wasn’t having a mental breakdown in the middle of In-N-Out.

He texted back.

PhotoGod Park (4:04 pm): sorry I was busy.

PhotoGod Park (4:04 pm): but that’s dope Min.

PhotoGod Park (4:05 pm): It’s nice to know another man XD

Xiumin stared down at his phone, not sure he believed what he was seeing. Like, okay, he wasn’t offended. At all. True it wasn’t like he came out to every person who drunk texted him and to be honest, Park was probably the least threatening person he could’ve come out to considering the man himself had professed to being into men. But Park had XD’d him. XD’d him. After he’d gone and told the man he was gay. Like seriously, where was the ing respect for his ual orientation?

He huffed, putting his phone down on the counter to bury his head in his arms, relishing in the fuzzy warmth of the sweatshirt he’d stolen from Yifan’s closet. He’d have thought that he’d be warm living in California, but apparently fall is still a bit cold and Yifan kept the gallery downright frigid anyway so Minseok has been basically living in Yifan’s sweatshirt lately. He shivered, casting a baleful look at his phone as if it was the cause of all his problems. Granted, it was really only the cause of one of his problems, but it was a big problem.

Put plainly, Minseok desperately needed to get laid.

Yifan gave him grief for all his texting, every once in a while, warning Minseok against crushes and love and reminding him of his douchebag soulmate every time he did it but it didn’t stop Minseok from falling for the photographer at the other end of his texts. If anything, it made it worse. Every time Yifan mentioned Minseok’s soulmate, Park would somehow text Minseok something incredibly sweet. Every time Yifan warned Minseok against falling in love, Park made Minseok laugh with a dumb quote or silly picture. And quite frankly, it was getting Minseok hot and bothered.

He hadn’t gotten any since the destruction that was his meeting with the soulmate who must not be named. Plus, being heartbroken, and then so sick he almost died, was the worst kind of . As a result, Minseok had been celibate for almost four months and now that he had a texting buddy who was funny and cute and silly and y and honestly everything that Minseok had wished for from his disappointing soulmate, Minseok was starting to feel a bit neglected. It didn’t help that Park had started sending him some rather questionable things lately. Like the one time he’d asked Minseok what he was wearing, completely out of the blue, at two in the morning. Or the time that he’d sent Minseok a picture of a banana with the caption “someone’s rather excited this morning lol.” Or when he’d gone to visit Yifan at the gallery, missing Minseok by just a breath—Minseok had had to run an errand that day—and decided to text Minseok a picture of one of the photographs Yifan currently had on exhibit with a voice bubble drawn on that had “so, come here often?” written inside. That one had made Minseok blush, partly because he had a man on his phone, and partly because holy he’d just opened that picture in the middle of Fred Meyers. What the .

Minseok’s phone buzzed again, puling him out of his dirty thoughts, his cheeks flushed a light pink.

PhotoGod Park (4:40 pm): did you die?

PhotoGod Park (4:41 pm): also do you like fireworks?

Minseok cocked his head, unsure where this was going. He typed back a response.

Xiumin (4:42 pm): I’m alive. 

Xiumin (4:42 pm): and yeah? Who doesn’t like fireworks?

PhotoGod Park (4:44 pm): Joon doesn’t like fireworks.

Xiumin (4:45 pm): He also likes pineapple on his pizza. I think we’ve established he’s not human.

PhotoGod Park (4:46 pm): hmmm. Fair point.

PhotoGod Park (4:46 pm): Anyway.

PhotoGod Park (4:46 pm): wanna go see some fireworks with me?

Minseok grinned at his phone, bouncing a bit on the balls of his feet. Yifan, of course, picked that exact moment to walk by. He cocked an eyebrow at Minseok.

“Why are you so excited?”

Minseok looked up, smiling so wide it felt like his lips might split. “He just asked me out. On a date. Like a real date. In person.”

Yifan’s face darkened almost imperceptibly, expression pensive. “Are you sure that’s a good idea Min? I mean, Park’s probably a nice guy and all, but considering what you just dealt with,” Yifan trailed off, noticing the look of distinct displeasure on Minseok’s face. “Look Min,” Yifan defended, “I just don’t want to see you get your heart broken for the second time in a row, okay?”

Minseok stared at Yifan, expression flat until his phone buzzed again. He looked down.

PhotoGod Park (4:49 pm): I didn’t overstep or anything, right? Like, I didn’t accidentally make everything weird did I? Cuz I totally didn’t mean to. . I should’ve waited till we’d actually met to ask you out.

PhotoGod Park (4:50 pm): I’m so sorry

Minseok looked back at Yifan, his messages open and fingers hovering over the keys to respond. “Look Fan,” Minseok huffed, “I appreciate the concern, I really do. What happened was ty. Chanyeol was ty. But this is different. I swear. I legitimately like this guy. Park is sweet. He’s nice. He’s funny. Like, what if this is my second chance to be happy? ,” Minseok laughed, giving Yifan a look that made him seem a little too lost, a little too young. “I don’t want to miss this chance just because I’m afraid of being hurt again,” Minseok said. “Besides, he’s not my soulmate. I won’t almost die if things go wrong this time.”

Yifan didn’t respond. He just stared at his friend, holding eye contact for a few seconds until finally he nodded, slowly, almost robotically. “All right Min. I trust you.”

Minseok smiled. “Thanks,” he said, looking back down at his phone, already formulating a response in his head.

Xiumin (4:56 pm): I want to go see fireworks with you.

Xiumin (4:57 pm): sorry I didn’t reply sooner Kris was talking to me

Xiumin (4:57 pm): I didn’t mean to make you panic. You didn’t overstep or anything. I promise. I’m really happy you asked me out! XD

He stared down at his phone, waiting for the message he knew was sure to come only a few seconds later. Minseok wasn’t disappointed, smiling when his phone lit up again with a text.

PhotoGod Park (4:59 pm): Xiu. Min. My good friend. My buddy. My pal. Did you just XD me?!? I asked you out and you XD me????!

Minseok laughed.

Chanyeol groaned, adjusting the ever so uncomfortable sleeves of his suit once again in a shoddy hotel mirror. He looked good, sure, black had always been his color and Junmyeon had made sure that this suit would make him look taller and thinner than Chanyeol knew he really was, but holy hell were the armpits tight. And it was hot. It wasn’t even summer still but Chanyeol was sweating like a pig where he stood. Noticing his friend’s predicament, Junmyeon laughed from where he laid on the bed, screwing around on his phone and already dressed in a grey suit of his own.

“Tugging on it isn’t going to make it feel better Chan,” he said, eyes fixated on whatever game he was playing, “you just have to get used to wearing it. You’re going to have to wear it for the exhibit opening anyway.”

Chanyeol groaned, not wanting to think about it. Leave it to Junmyeon to remind him of the one not fun thing he had to look forward to amidst all the exciting things the week had in store. His exhibit was in three days. Today was his meeting with Kris, as well as the finishing touches of the installation. Hence the suit. He hated the suit. The suit was the worst.

Junmyeon shoved himself off the bed with a grunt, coming up behind Chanyeol and tugging on his suit, pulling it down a bit at the waist, straightening out the sleeves, brushing the pants. “You look good Chan. Just breathe.”

“Breathing is hard,” Chanyeol pouted. “Everything is hard in this thing.” He yanked balefully at his sleeves again.

“I don’t get why you hate suits so much,” Junmyeon laughed, his focus on his phone instead of Chanyeol. “They’re just a part of life. Some people have to wear them every day. Just be grateful that’s not you.”

“I am,” Chanyeol bit back, his thoughts flashing briefly to Kim Minseok, his foolish soulmate, staring at Chanyeol with sad eyes in his perfect suit. The suit Chanyeol had said he hated. He didn’t need a man in a suit. Is that what he had said? Chanyeol couldn’t quite remember. It was something like that. The memory made nausea curdle in his stomach. Look at him now, wearing the very thing he’d told his soulmate he didn’t want anywhere in his life. The ing irony.

His phone buzzed and from where he’d disappeared into the bathroom to fix his hair Chanyeol could hear Junmyeon groan. “Are you seriously still texting him?” his friend asked, “you’re literally going on a date with him tonight.” Chanyeol grinned, the thought of the soulmate he’d left back at Yixing’s exhibit banished at the thought of the man he’d been messaging for the past month. He didn’t respond to Junmyeon.

Xiumin (9:32 am): fyi I won’t be there this morning when you’re finishing up exhibit stuff with Kris.

PhotoGod Park (9:34 am): what why?

Xiumin (9:35 am): He doesn’t want me “distracting the artist”

PhotoGod Park (9:35 am): You would be very distracting

Xiumin (9:36 am): awwwww

Xiumin (9:36 am): That’s so sweet of you.

Xiumin (9:37 am): He’s right though I would be very distracting

PhotoGod Park (9:38 am): well now you’re just full of yourself

Xiumin (9:39 am): I don’t see you telling me I’m wrong though.

PhotoGod Park (9:39 am): You’re right and I hate it.

PhotoGod Park (9:40 am): I’ll see you tonight though? :)

Xiumin (9:41 am): definitely :D

PhotoGod Park (9:42 am): can’t wait <3

Xiumin (9:43 am): gross a heart

Xiumin (9:43 am): jk

Xiumin (9:44 am): seriously I can’t wait either.

Chanyeol tried unsuccessfully to fight the smile creeping onto his face. Junmyeon snorted, having reentered the room at some point, watching Chanyeol texting in all his besotted glory. “You know you’re completely gone for a guy you’ve never even met, right?”

“Your point?” Chanyeol asked, an eyebrow arched high in question.

“My point,” Junmyeon sasses back, “Is that you’re totally whipped for this guy, and you don’t even know what he looks like.”

“So?” Chanyeol asked, still not quite following where his friend was going with his train of thought.

“So,” Junmyeon continued, “you could be surprised is all. What if Xiumin is nothing like you’re expecting?”

Chanyeol scoffed, tugging again at his suit in the mirror. He wandered to the bed to put on his shoes. “I highly doubt I’ll be that surprised Joon. I mean, I feel like I know him pretty well. We talk a lot.”

“Oh I ing know,” Junmyeon muttered under his breath.

Chanyeol chuckled a little, barely managing to overhear. “I’m sorry, what did you say Joon?”

“Nothing,” his friend grumbled. “Now get in the goddamn car. And leave that leather bracelet behind. It doesn’t match with your outfit.”

Chanyeol’s hand flew to his wrist and the offending tattoo that hid beneath the bracelet. “But.”

“No buts Chanyeol,” his friend cut him off. “Wear a watch if you’re so worried about people seeing it. Or don’t. It’s not like anyone cares here. Now grab your and get in the goddamn car.”

Chanyeol watched his friend leave the room in a huff, briefly wondering why he’d suddenly gotten himself in a tizzy. He stared forlornly at his wrist. He didn’t want to take the bracelet off, but Junmyeon was in a mood, and when Junmyeon was in a mood, Junmyeon’s word was law. He scrounges around for a bit, looking for a watch or something to put on his wrist instead that would match his suit but can’t find anything other than a thick silver chain that covers some of the tattoo but not all of it. His phone buzzes on the bed, a text from Junmyeon along the lines of “hurry up er we’re going to be late” so Chanyeol grabs the silver bracelet since it’s the best he can find and heads out.

Lia Gallery was, as always, impressive. The peacock feather statue was still there, still casting splinters of emerald green across the gallery floor in greeting and Chanyeol felt a bit like he’d stepped into wonderland. The entirety of the room on the left side of the gallery—the room where all the photographs used to be—had been cleared out and now Chanyeol’s photos were laid out on the floor, each one in it’s frame, ready to be hung on the walls. Kris smiled as he walked in.

“I’m glad you’ve finally arrived,” he greeted, stretching out his hand for a handshake that Chanyeol quickly reciprocated. It was an odd handshake, one that lasted for a few seconds longer than it needed too, Kris looking at Chanyeol strangely, as if he knew him from somewhere. When he finally let go it was with a comment, “Nice bracelet,” and that was it. Junmyeon shot Chanyeol a sharp look and a gesture of confusion. Chanyeol returned it, equally unsure. Kris brushed past both of them, bringing them into the left room, and together they began to hang Chanyeol’s photographs.

Kris had been, well, quiet. Not just quiet though, silent. It was uncanny and uncomfortable, and two hours into hanging photographs and trying to make his exhibit look the way both he and Kris wanted it to look, Chanyeol was panicking. Junmyeon had excused himself a few minutes ago under the pretense of buying lunch from some fancy sandwich shop close to the hotel, but Chanyeol was sure that it was just an excuse to leave the tense situation. Honestly, if Chanyeol hadn’t been the artist in charge of the exhibit, he probably would’ve left too. He stared warily at Kris, who hadn’t spoken a single word since he’d greeted them that morning.

“Um, Kris?” Chanyeol tried, his voice breaking unevenly in the silence. No response. “Kris?” No response again. Chanyeol wanted to curl in on himself and never speak again. Things had been going so well too. “Kris.”

“What?” The word came out clipped and aggressive. Kris didn’t turn to look at him but at least he was talking. Chanyeol took that as a win.

“Is something wrong?” Chanyeol asked, his voice unsteady. “You seem a little upset.”

“Upset?” Kris scoffed, the sound harsh, grating against Chanyeol’s ears and suddenly Chanyeol was very afraid. “Why would I be upset, Mr. Park Chanyeol?”

“Mr. Park, Park Chanyeol?” Chanyeol repeated, partly to himself, “How do you, how.”

“How do I know who you are?” Kris cut him off, talking now and Chanyeol almost missed the silence. “You tell me, Park Chanyeol.”

“I, um, I never told you my name. How um, how do you know it?”

Kris’ eyes turned hard in the gallery light and Chanyeol suddenly felt very small. “Tell me Park Chanyeol,” Kris said, “Is the name Kim Minseok familiar to you?”

Chanyeol froze, his heartbeat stuttering to a stop for a moment before starting back up again, hurried and panicked like a hummingbird heart. That name—why did Kris know the name of his soulmate. “How do you?”

“There are better ways to cover up a tattoo Park Chanyeol, than using a flashy silver bracelet.” He nodded to the bracelet dangling on Chanyeol’s wrist. Chanyeol was quick to shove it behind his back. “Do you know, Park Chanyeol,” Kris continued on, relentless now that he’d smelled the first drop of figurative blood in the water, “what happens to someone when they’re rejected by their soulmate?”

“What?” Chanyeol asks, completely lost know, confused and uncertain of everything except for the sinking feeling in his stomach that he had well and truly ed up somehow and he was about to find out how.

Kris’ lips twisted into a sardonic smile. “They get sick, Park Chanyeol. In some cases, very very sick. Sometimes, they get so sick they can die.” Chanyeol’s heart sunk into his gut. “Tell me,” Kris continued mercilessly, “do you know anyone who was rejected by their soulmate? They may have been told something along the lines of ‘I don’t need a guy in a suit.’ Does that sound familiar to you?”

Chanyeol gaped, his mouth opening and closing but words refused to come out. He sputtered. “Is he, is, is he, he’s not,” Kris scoffed at Chanyeol’s attempt to speak.

“Dead?” Kris asked. Chanyeol nodded. “No,” Kris affirmed. “If he was dead I’d be cancelling my contract with you, consequences be damned. No, he’s alive. But you made him very sick Park Chanyeol. Very very sick. And let me tell you something about Kim Minseok,” Kris drew close to Chanyeol now, intimidating even though Chanyeol was taller than him, terrifyingly beautiful sleek lines and poise and confidence and raw fury and everything that had Chanyeol wanting to cower and run far far away and never look back. “Kim Minseok,” Kris continued, “is a ing angel. And you almost ruined him. I’ve already watched Yixing get ruined by his soulmate, and he wasn’t even rejected. But you,” hate stung in every word that spewed from Kris’ mouth, “you made me watch Minseok fall apart too. You ing bastard.”

Chanyeol shrunk back, chest painfully tight and he didn’t know why. “I’m sorry,” he squeaked out, immediately regretting it when he saw Kris’ face cloud even darker.

“Sorry?” Kris snarled, “You’re sorry. Do you even know what you did?” He stared at Chanyeol for a few seconds before scoffing. “You don’t,” he said, leaning back on his heels, his mouth twisting in disgust. “You ruined him and you don’t even ing know.”

“What do you mean?” Chanyeol asked, his voice small against the storm that Kris was.

“What didn’t you do?” Kris asked back, suddenly subdued, looking beaten and tired and sad. He made eye contact with Chanyeol and looked just so disappointed, Chanyeol’s chest grew even tighter and a sudden urge to cry welled up as his eyes grew wet and he had never felt so insignificant in his life. “Here’s what you did,” Kris said, voice so quiet that Chanyeol had to strain to hear, “you made him so sick he had to skip work, but he wouldn’t, so he passed out in his car. I had to go get him. He thought it would get better, but it just got worse. Some days he couldn’t even stand. We had to take him to the hospital. He lost his job. He lived in a hospital for a month. Do you know how much that costs? And when he got out, he had no where to go back to. He was weak. He needed a caretaker. He couldn’t even cook for himself. He barely survived, and everything he worked for, everything he’d achieved, all of it was gone. You took everything from him. Just because you didn’t want a soulmate who wore a ing suit.” Kris was crying now, his eyes glistening with pain and anger and regret and something more, something dangerous that shimmered beneath the surface that made Chanyeol want to believe that there was more, something else Kris wasn’t telling him, something so terrible it couldn’t be voiced. “I’ll finish hanging these pictures,” Kris said, straightening up, wiping the wetness away. “Get out of my gallery. I don’t want to see you again till the opening.” He picked up a picture and then paused, turning towards Chanyeol with a look of pure something, Chanyeol didn’t know what but he hated the way it made him feel.

“Are you really so selfish Park Chanyeol? Sure,” Kris shrugged, “your art is good, but you have no love in you. Do you even know what it means to care about another person?”

Chanyeol didn’t have a response for that. His shoulders slumped as he turned and left the gallery. He received a text on his way out, one from Xiumin. Chanyeol wondered if Xiumin knew about Minseok too.

Xiumin (12:04 pm): hey! How’s it going? Where are we meeting tonight?

Chanyeol stared at his phone, trying to quell the sick feeling in his stomach, wondering where the butterflies that usually came when he talked to Xiumin had gone. He couldn’t meet Xiumin like this. Not today, not when he was so full of shame and regret, not when he had treated his soulmate so terribly. He didn’t deserve Xiumin.

PhotoGod Park (12:06 pm): I’m sorry Xiumin. I can’t today. Something came up. Can we meet later?

The reply came a few seconds later.

Xiumin (12:06 pm): yeah, of course. Is everything okay?

Chanyeol couldn’t respond.

----

Seeeeee, wasn't that great?

Anyway, for those of you taking tests this week, best of luck! You've got it! For everyone who isn't taking tests... consider yourselves lucky, and have a wonderful day. As always, let me know what you think!

xoxo

Jay