LUHAN

As the summer faded into fall and then to winter, life seemed only to get faster and faster. Approaching holidays meant more shows, more stages, more concerts; the end of the year meant various award ceremonies and of course that fated red carpet. There really was no pause to any of it, and often I woke up panicking that I'd slept through my alarms and was late to an event. Too many times I caught myself dozing off as my stylist, He-noona, powdered my face for the nth time. Even Lao Gao looked dead tired, usually saying something along the lines of, "You might be used to this because you're the idol, but I'm normal and I'm beat." He wasn't wrong. 

Through all of the hustle and bustle, one surprising constant in my life became the 2AM messages and calls to a little girl across the ocean. What had been a spur-of-the-moment decision that I'd thought would end after one or two conversations, or at the very most when Xiulei left China, spawned into a kind of long-distance friendship. Although the beginning was kind of awkward, we'd quickly learned each others' quirks, and she'd just as quickly seen past my mask to a different Luhan that resided beneath this shining exterior.  The day I knew she finally stopped looking at me as just an idol was the day she'd called me "pabo," her laughing voice sounding a lot closer than the hundreds of miles of radio waves and telephone wires that separated us. The day I knew I began to see her as a little sister, a sister that I could confide in, was the day I'd opened up to her about my life, about Korea, and about EXO. 

What was it like, Korea? Her voice had been soft, a gentle whisper in the night.

It was fun. My words sounded broken. It was gaining eleven brothers, eleven more people to love, in a blink of an eye. It was... it was hard work. Days and nights up practicing. Going onstage when it felt as if the world was shaking. I'd paused. It was seeing Yifan leave. It was knowing that somewhere across that narrow sea and long stretch of land, my parents' hair was turning white, without me by their side. Waiting.

Xiulei had remained silent for a while. Do you think it was for the best? Leaving? 

I'd replied as honestly as I could. No. But it was the best that I could do. 

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

I sit in the backseat of my darkened work van, hearing the clicking of the cameras and the bustling of the reporters in the venue outside. I shiver, partly from the cold January night, partly from those old, familiar nerves that still got to me after all this time. "Fifteen minutes!" Lao Gao calls from the front seat, clicking his earpiece into place.

Aish. I feel my chest go on overdrive. Weibo Zhi Ye is usually one of the worst red carpets to walk because the evening is always littered with imposing, confusing questions that can get as personal as the reporter wants. Unscripted, pure, verbal bombardment, that's what this night is. Too many a time an idol has been caught giving too much away, saying too little, or offending someone or something in some way. All in all, there is almost always a multitude of headlines the next day, most of them in the negative. 

And leave it to my little, inexperienced self that still doesn't know how to open up in front of a camera... oh god. I'm going to make a mess of this and I know it. 

I taste the dread in the back of my throat, and regret once again that Suho and Yifan had always been the ones talking in interviews, and not me. I could have at least learned something! I really am a pabo. 

Wanting to distract myself from my thoughts, I pick up my cellphone, staring down at the time. Eight. That's also eight in the morning in Atlanta. I think of Xiulei, wondering what it was that she could be doing right now. In class, perhaps, listening to a teacher droning on about trignometric identities? I almost smile, flashing back to the days where I'd been in that same position, scribbling "I hate this" all over my test paper when I'd made a bad mark. 

Ah, the good old days-

A vibration from my phone interrupts me. I look down, seeing a new message from Xiulei. 

"Good luck at Weibo Zhi Ye!! I'll be watching the reruns tonight~ Don't do anything dumb~~" 

I roll my eyes, noticing how she'd chosen the wrong Chinese characters for the words "zhi ye," turning the phrase into “knowing also." 

"Easy for you to say. Have you ever been interviewed by a mob? Nope." 

The reply is immediate: "Oh my gosh, is the almighty-Luhan nervous? XD" 

"Pfff hardly."

"You know, you're still a really bad liar, even over text~" I shake my head, trying to figure out how she'd gotten to know my defenses so well, and managed to maneuver about them so easily. 

"Whatever~" 

"Well, I mean at least tell me what you're so worried about. You're the top star, everyone loves you!" 

I stare at the message glowing up from my screen. I know my stats; the gong-shi drilled them into my head long ago. Top seven on the Weibo Pai Hang Ban, one of the most anticipated idols of the year. I should have no problem picking up at least two awards tonight. But on top of all this, I also understand that there are still antis out there, still those that are mad about me leaving EXO, even after all of these years. There are also those that criticize my acting skills, and those whose expectations I cannot meet. How can I, when the stage tonight will be filled with so many glittering stars? 

"I guess its just nerves. I feel so ordinary here, and everyone else is just so extraordinary its blinding... (>人<)"

I can hear the exasperation tinging Xiulei's voice as her words play out inside my head. "You're such a pabo, I swear! Don't you know that the ordinary you is already hecking extraordinary? Why else would we be your fans~~~ We are picky with our idols, too, you know." 

"Well, what do you think is the most 'extraordinary' part of me, hmm?" 

"Your ability to be so dense," was the immediate reply, followed by, "Jk, jk. It's your personality." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean, you act so ordinary. Yet you glow with your own charisma. You have faults, but you also do your best to overcome them and show us the best sides of you. You get sick of things, but you never call it quits. You're Luhan. Ordinarily extraordinary~"

From the front, Lao Gao calls out that time is up and that I have to be out on the carpet in a legitimate thirty seconds flat. I switch off and pocket my phone, and then straighten my bow tie. Ordinarily extraordinary. I store those two words in my chest as if they were like a fire, burning gently in the cold night air.

Ordinarily extraordinary. That's me. 

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

XIULEI

I stare out into the darkened expanse of the night sky, tracing the constellations with my eyes and watching as the old man in the moon grins down at me in his semi-satirical way. I remember how Luhan had said that we all see the same face of this glowing orb, yet the meanings are different. In the West, we see a man, and in the East, they see a jade rabbit, accompanying the moon goddess Chang'er up in those lonely ashen plains. 

How could the same thing look so different? I shiver involuntarily, pulling my fleece jacket closer. January really isn't the time to be sitting on rooftops. 

From beside me, Nuoyi shifts in her drunken sleep, groaning as she buries her face further into my shoulder. I adjust the blanket wrapped around her unconscious form, sighing aloud. My gaze meets that miniature bottle of Icewine she'd stolen from her parents' liquor cabinet, now completely empty.

"It's not like my mother or dad would notice. They're never here; they never notice," she'd reminded me before passing out, tear stains still evident on her face. I flinch, wondering if, for the millionth time, I should try to convince her to get herself help. It never works, anyway.

A soft ringtone interrupts my thoughts, and I pull my phone from my pocket. Promises is playing, and I cannot help the small smile that makes its way to my face. 

Picking up the call, I hear Luhan's familiar greeting on the other end. "Hey, how are you?"

"I'm..." I look down at Nuoyi. "I'm out right now."

"What are you doing out at two in the morning??" Luhan's voice is unbelieving, tempered with a fair amount of worry. 

"A... friend needed my help. So I went over to her place."

"Oh. Do you have time to call then? If you're busy-" 

"No, it's fine! She's... er... asleep." If you could even call it that.

"Hmm... I see." Luhan is quiet, and on his end I hear the din of busy afternoon traffic, accompanied by his soft breathing. 

"Hey, Lu ge, what does the sky over there look like right now?"

"Huh? The sky?" There is a pause and the sounds of rustling winter clothes can be heard, along with the mechanical rolling down of a window. "It's that really clear, wintry-blue color, like the kind that tells you spring is coming. It's also freezing cold, but it feels like the kind that will go away after you start moving and running... heck, I wish I were on a soccer field right now." I hear the wistfulness in his tone. "This is the best weather for a game." 

A smile lifts up the sagging corners of my mouth as I paint an image of Luhan sprinting like a deer across a blackened canvas of stars, winding his way down towards an ungaurded goal. I stare out into the darkness, wishing that I was over in his corner of the world, where everything is the clearest shade of cerulean. 

"So you never answered my question." Luhan interrupts, chiding me in a teasing voice. "See, you never pay attention to my words; I'm hurt." I laugh at the sarcasm. 

"What was it again?" I play along and hear his feigned groan. 

"My point exactly." He states in a dry tone. "How are you, you dumb-? Are you doing okay?" 

At his words, I feel my smile fading. It had really been a hell of a week. School was hardly the worst of it; the material wasn't really quite that difficult. Everything could be achieved through hard work and time. The same couldn't be said about friendships. About Nuoyi. And... about my dad. 

"Hey, you there?" 

"Y-yea." My voice cracks, the word shaky. 

"What's wrong?" 

"It's... just been a long week." I exhale, my breath tracing out a cloud of mist that lingers before my face. "Something came up with my dad. He..." I pause, picturing his thin frame gasping for breath, shaking. Complaining of chest pains. "He was diagnosed with coronary artery disease. They said that the disease was lifelong but he suffered from heart failure recently. He's marked as 'at risk.' It could strike again at any time." 

Luhan's assurance is immediate. "It won't. He'll be okay." 

"It doesn't work like that, ge." I hear the note of helplessness in my voice. 

"He will be okay." Luhan repeats, and in my head I imagine his stare holding that familiar, iron-willed strength. "You guys will take care of him. He'll live to see his daughter graduate. High school. And then college. And then law school. And then achieve her dreams." 

I think of that timeline that hangs on my bedroom wall, the one with all of the things I know I have to do to build the life that I want. I think of all the green checkmarks; I am halfway there. I think of the many years left before that final destination of Shanghai and Lu Jia Zui. Would my dad see that? Could he? 

"You have to believe in him, Xiulei. It's the only way. And, really, things do turn out okay in the end. If they don't, it's just not the end yet."

Looking out into the distance, I remember the saying that the hours before dawn are always the darkest. Day will come. Day has to come. I pull my knees up to my chest, listening as Luhan spins out a funny story of what happened at a recent event, trying to distract me, to make me laugh. Slowly, I feel the smile return to my face.

If things aren't okay, it's just not the end yet. 

It's just not the end.