FIFTEEN

LUHAN

I am backed against the airport wall. Again.

And people wonder why I hate going on airplanes.

I was in Shanghai for the last promotional tour before what I considered my first break in a full year. I'd already been looking forward to sleeping in, maybe playing an extra hour of video games or watching another Manchester United match, but a sudden change of plans ended all my hopes, bringing me to the airport a day early. A call had come to tell me that the studio workers wanted me back in Beijing by two AM, deeming the high speed rail too slow.

It’s as if the words “high speed” mean nothing to them, I swear.

Beside me, my faithful partner Lao Gao is yelling into his cell phone, fighting to be heard over the mob of people in front of us. I can tell he was trying to sound calm... 'trying to' being the key phrase.

"For godsakes, he hates airplanes. The day after tomorrow was supposed to be his time off. We've agreed to this and we can't change-"

From the receiving end, I hear them say that we had to get back, fast. Or else. And then a dial tone. I do my best not to snort.

Right. Like being stampeded by girls is so much faster than a train ride. Turning my eyes back to the crowd, I see a jumbling mass of limbs, heads, and cell phones.

"Luhan. LUHAAAAAN. LU GE, LOOK AT MY CAMERA." The screams from the saesangs are all I can hear. I swear they're trying to beat my eardrums to pulp. I guess they don't realize that I can't sing if I'm deaf.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Lao Gao, now fuming due to the managers' impertinence, trying to part the mob in a feeble attempt to give me some room to breathe. It doesn't work; it never works. The saesangs- girls who are... well, with the lack of a better word, crazy- come meet me at each of the airports and stations I land in. Their sole purpose is to get pictures of me and steal items from my bag, whether it be my pens, my papers, my wallet, or my underwear. Even my extra face mask; they aren't very picky people.

Inwardly sighing, I push my finger against my lip with a ferocity I'd come to know, telling the crowd to hush.

"Please! Quiet! I'll take off the face mask and the glasses. I'll let you take pictures. But please be quiet, okay?"

Not all follow the instructions I'd given, but the decibels do lower a little. Living up to my half of the bargain, I take off the black mask I was wearing over my mouth and my sunglasses. It was stupid to be wearing sunglasses at midnight, anyways. At my action, the fans swarm even closer, trying to get a clearer shot of my now-exposed face. I stare past all the cameras and phones, hoping that the viewfinders won't see the tightness in my smile. Or the root of a massive headache burning behind my eyes.

"STOP PUSHING. MAKE WAY." Lao Gao instructs the crowd from behind me, both moving me along the wall and obstructing the view of the cameras from my face. From the sea of bodies, I hear their complaints drown over their screams.

"Tell the guy that's with him to shut up. I didn't come here to get a recording of his voice."

"Tell the idiot to stop pushing me away from Luhan!"

"Ugh. You. Bodyguard! Move already. You're blocking my view of Lu ge's face!"

Ignoring their vicious comments, Lao Gao continues to obstruct the flashing lights. Finally, frustrated, the people disperse and the screaming fades. Reaching Gate A07, I sag into a plastic seat closest to the aisle. Forcing a laugh, I say, "I still don't understand why they do this every time."

Rolling his eyes, Lao Gao takes the spot next to mine. "At least you can still smile after that kind of attack. Dunno how you can be so happy all the time."

"Part of the job description."

He shrugs. "If you put it that way, then following, stalking, stealing your stuff... that's all part of the saesang job description." Lao Gao grins wryly, and I notice the tight corners in his smile. God knows how many times I'd smiled like that myself.  

"Hey, you okay?" I ask, even though I already know the answer that he'd give me.

He nods. "Just tired of being the bodyguard all the time, that's all." I wince at the stressed syllables. "Besides, it's practically midnight. Some sleep is definitely called for."

"Yea." Hoping to cheer him up, I crack another smile. "You can relax now. I'll be quiet." He nods again, appreciatively, and then shuts his eyes.

Turning away from Lao Gao's worn face, I fall into my thoughts. In the quiet din of the airport, I try for the millionth time to recall a past where there hadn't been these wrinkles around my eyes, a place where I'd hated pretending. Where Lao Gao had always been able to tell when I was lying to him.

Now even he, my one best friend and partner, can't understand. “How can you be so happy all the time?” My acting skills must be amazing by now. They should totally just book me for their next drama.

Sighing, I let my gaze wander, my eyes eventually finding their way to a brightly lit screen, showing me the time. Well.. at least it's nice and calm now. Maybe I can finally get so-

"Hey." A girl's voice breaks my train of thought. I flinch and then turn, hoping she didn't see the expression I'd made when I'd first heard her. After making sure she has my attention, she asks, "Can I have your autograph, please?" in Korean.

I look at the paper and pen in her hands, and then notice her EXO t-shirt with Xiumin's name printed in bold black font. I wince again as the memories resurface.

"Um... are you sure you want my autograph? Because I'm not in EXO. I've been going solo for almost two years now."

The girl frowns. "Yea, I know that. Why would you think that I don't know... oh right. My shirt. Well, I wasn't supposed to tell you this but..." She leans in conspiratorially. "The signature isn't for me. It's for her. She’s my friend." She makes a small gesture to another girl sitting at Gate A06, whose stare I had not noticed. Our eyes meet, and in hers I saw something different, something too old for her age, and that surprised me. Before my mind fully processed it, though, her cheeks flush pink and she turns away, head down.

The girl standing before me clears and I turn back to her. She looks to her blushing friend and then back at me, raising her eyebrows with a smirk. I feel my ears burn a dull red.

Aigh... Luhan, the hell is wrong with you?

"You see, I wanted to get her your autograph since she’s been wanting it since forever, but she told me it was already really late, so she was just going to let you get some peace and quiet to yourself. But the thing is, we’re from America, right, and this is a once in a lifetime type of thing. So I thought, why not?" The girl laughs, and then continues. "Anyways, sorry for rambling. My name is Soomyeon. She's Xiulei."

"Well, Soomyeon, tell Xiulei I'd be happy to give her an autograph." I smile and take the pen and paper from her outstretched hands. Scribbling "Jia You, Lu Han", I hand the items back to the girl. "Here you go. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

She looks at Lao Gao nervously. "Uh... he isn't going to freak if I give you something, right?" She whispers.

"I'm not allowed to take anything from my fa-" The girl interrupts me.

"I seriously think you'd want to read this." She eyes me. "It's not a love letter, so it should be fine, right?"

I feel the blood rush to my face at her words. To avoid her smirk, I look away, then chuckle a little and then shake my head. "I still don't think..."

From above us, the speakers announce, "PASSENGERS HEADING TO FUZHOU, BOARD THE PLANE AT GATE A06. PASSENGERS TO FUZHOU." In a hurry, Soomyeon presses the envelope into my palm before walking away. Looking back once, she calls, "Please... it meant a lot to her!" She gives a cheerful wave and then quickly disappears into the throngs of people boarding. I turn my eyes toward the seat where Xiulei had been sitting. It is vacated and empty.

I look back down at the well-worn envelope in my hand, creased as if it had been carried in a pocket for a long while. From beside me, I hear the sound of Lao Gao as he shifts, sitting up. On instinct, I clutch the letter to my chest, as if I'd been caught doing something I shouldn't. I feel the heat rush up my neck. Luhan, what's wrong with you? It's just a fan-letter.

"What's that?" Lao Gao asks, nodding towards my hands.

"Nothing."

He raises an eyebrow, unbelief etched into his face. "How many years have I known you?"

"Uh... like, twenty one?"

"And don't you think I've been friends with you long enough to know when you're obviously hiding something? Give it here." He points to the note. "You have some sort of secret girlfriend you're not telling the world about?"

"What? No!" I scoff, still holding onto the paper. "Are you crazy?"

"Prove it then. Give it here."

Almost reluctantly, I hand him the envelope.

Lao Gao flips the letter over, looking at the Chinese characters written on the back. Xiu Lei. He turns his gaze back to me, voice triumphant.

"And you said you didn't have a girlfriend."  

"S-she's not! She was just a fan that gave that to me, I swear!" I protest, feeling my ears grow hotter. Maybe all the stress is finally catching up, and I just have a fever or something. Yea. That's it.

Lao Gao smirks. "Was it that girl that just walked off? To board the plane?"

"If you were awake, you should know that the letter wasn’t from a girlfriend." I say between gritted teeth, punching his arm. He flinches, rubbing at the sore spot. "And besides, that was only Xiulei's friend. She delivered the letter for her."

"Huh. I see that you remember her name. I'm surprised, since you usually don't remember your fans' na-" The smirk he is wearing is cut off by another punch.

"Okay, okay. I'll stop teasing. I only asked because your reaction was hilarious. Your ears are like... red." He smiles, pointing at the sides of my head.

"Shut up." I grumble, covering an ear with one hand while snatching back the envelope with the other.

Lao Gao is quiet for a few moments. Then he gets the look in his eyes, the look of a man with a plan. He smirks. "You know, if she really is just a fan, there's no point for you to read that. It's probably just another phone number, maybe a sasaeng or something, and god knows how many of those you get a day. Here, I'll throw it away for you.” He takes the paper and walks to a nearby trash can, tossing it in before I could protest.

Goddamnit, Lao Gao, I will kill you.

My friend stares at me, as if daring me to go and pick up the letter, or at least to react to what he did. I know that if I did react, he'd hold it against me for the rest of my life.

"You have a good point." I say flippantly, sitting back in my chair. "Probably just another phone number."

Lao Gao raises an eyebrow, impressed. "Wow. You've finally learned some self control, eh?”

I shrug nonchalantly. "It's not self control; it’s the truth.” I yawn, shutting my eyes. Without opening them, I say, “I think I’m going to need some coffee if I’m going to survive flying for another two hours.” I dig through my bag and shove some yuan in his face. “Mind getting me a cup? I think we’re going to be recording in the studio when we get back, so I’m going to try to rest up now.”  

Lao Gao raises his eyebrows, unbelieving. "You're sure you're gonna be okay on your own?" His voice is patronizing.

I roll my eyes. "I'm not three. I don't need your supervision."

"You say that, but you'd be mobbed by the saesangs, or worse, die of boredom if it weren't for me." Lao Gao laughs. Shaking his head, he walks off, probably trying to find the closest place to buy an Iced Americano. As soon as he gets out of sight, I go to the trash can, pulling out the envelope. Mentally berating myself for my action, I question why this stupid piece of paper meant so much to me.

I'm just curious. That's all.   

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After around half an hour of flying, Lao Gao is fast asleep again.

Well... he's tired. Don't blame him, though.

I feel the start of another headache, searingly painful, and I desperately wish that I were asleep as well. But, of course I can't, not when I'm on a plane, so high up. At least, not without meds, and both Lao Gao and my managers had forgotten to pack them, not thinking that I'd need to fly at all.

Of course they didn't. Because I was supposed to take the rail home, and then get my break.

Supposed to.

I sigh. Nausea rolls in my stomach as I glance out the window at the dark expanse surrounding us. It feels empty, cold, and dangerous, as if I could fall any second and be swallowed by the abyss. I feel another twist in my intestines and decide to just stop thinking altogether.

Pulling the plastic shades down, I reach for the envelope in my pocket. After making sure Lao Gao was out cold, I hesitate. I know I shouldn't open it; usually fan letters were just lines of confession, with the occasional few brave enough to put their phone numbers. Despite this fact, though, I wanted to open it because Xiulei seemed so different from the others. She hadn’t jumped on me, didn’t force anything, didn’t even want to disturb me until her friend did it anyway. Not only that, but also...

Her eyes.

They'd been shining, her gaze gentle and caring, bordering on pain. In it I saw something that was older than her age, infinitely so. It made me want to know more, to protect her, because someone so young shouldn't have learned the art of faking a smile.

Luhan, stop all of this. She's a stranger you will never meet again.

Ignoring my thoughts, I turn my attention back to the envelope in my hands. Ripping it, I take out two pieces of folded paper, eying the first warily before unfolding it from its creased position.

Luhan,
I know you're probably not going to get this. If you do, you're probably not allowed to read it. That's okay.
If you're miraculously seeing my words, let me first apologize for my horribly written Chinese. My name is Xiulei, and I'm fifteen. I'm from America, so this language is hardly my strong suit. XD
I wrote this note to thank you for being there for me. I know it's probably creepy to read that from a stranger, but your music was always with me when I needed company, whether it be late at night or early in the mornings. Just... whenever I didn't want to think too much, I guess. So thanks for singing, for giving up your original dream to pursue another, and for giving your fans a reason to smile.
You must have had your own struggles to go through, experiences on levels which I can't comprehend. I guess that was what had drawn me into you music, into LH7. What caught my eye hadn't just been your voice or your appearance, but rather your quiet strength. Ever since EXO, you've gone onstage even if you were sick. You push yourself to the limit, have to face all the stress and fears alone. You hold everything in, and that is the resilient mask you wear. Everyone thinks that that life is easy, that everything is okay. They think that you have it all, so you should be perfect too. Isn't it for there to be expectations that can't be met, no matter how hard we try?
Isn't it tiring, to keep pretending?
I remember watching last year's Running Man New Year concert. You had told the crowd that purple was your color, the color of wishes. I wish for two things. The first is that I wish that there's a person out there you can talk to about the other side of being an idol, the pain, frustrations, fear, happiness. Someone who can stand by you, dry your tears (you don't always have to "be a man" and hold it all in). Someone you can trust with both the good and the bad.
The second wish is purely personal. I wish that I could have that strength to smile when I want to cry, to hold it all in until I'm alone at night.
I've always needed that strength, I guess.
Jia You,
Xiulei

The second paper is folded into a heart. I frown, and then unfold it against my better judgement. The handwriting has changed, seemingly older and messier.  

Hey. I was pretty sure Xiulei would chicken out and not go up to you and give you her letter. She's always like that. By the way, her phone number is 6784247775, in case you ever wanna talk to her. Just so you know, she doesn't know I gave that to you because I wasn't supposed to read her letter, though I kinda did. I mean, how could I not, since she carried it around all the time? Anyways, don't tell her, okay? :3
Soomyeon

I can feel the heat rush through my body. That girl gave me Xiulei's number? Is she an idiot? I could be a serial killer or stalker... she shouldn't have.

Okay, Luhan. You will throw these away and forget about them, forget about Xiulei.

But... what she had said, about having someone to talk to...

I groan, tucking both papers into the outermost pocket of my bag.

I don't think I'm going to forget.