LUHAN

“Luhan, get your ing over here and explain to me how you, a guy that usually doesn’t even want to move after holding five fanmeets a day, decided that after such a busy schedule, it was a good idea to get up at two in the morning and... climb an unbuilt skyscraper??” Lao Gao calls incredulously from his office, stopping me mid-dance routine. My instructor eyes me in the practice mirror with his eyebrows raised comically, mouthing the words “unbuilt skyscraper?” in a questioning manner.

The heck… how did he know about the skyscraper? I only asked him to call his friends for help…  

“Uhh, n-nothing…” I mutter at the instructor, giving an embarrassed smile. “I… uh… should probably go check with Lao Gao about that?” He nods his head, giving me permission for a break.

Dragging my sore muscles to Lao Gao’s office, I plop down in one of his spinning chairs and immediately sink into my characteristic Beijing-tang position. From his desk, Lao Gao tosses me my phone, which I hadn’t seen all morning.

“If you’re gonna lecture me about calling you at two am and asking you to give me your friends’ number for help, I can explain.”

“You know… you’re really screwed.” He ignores my statement.

“Now why’s that?” I ask snarkily, powering my phone on and waiting for the lock screen to appear.

“You’re number one on the le-shou-ban.”

“Isn’t that a good thing? It means I’m popular, people are searching me up.” I smirk.

Lao Gao shakes his head seemingly in exasperation. “Not you. A statement about you.”

“Get to the point already.” I joke, typing in my password.

“You got yourself a girlfriend lately?” He asks, cocking his head to the side with a questioning look. “Because if you did you could have, one, given me a heads up so I could have controlled the media and, two, done a better job at keeping it a secret.”

I look up at him in shock. “What girlfriend?” I pause, and then laugh. “It better not be another rumor about me and some singer or actress. I thought you and I were both clear that in most cases, those aren’t even close to true, like that one with Reba-”

‘Well according to Zhou Mi, you decided to bring an ‘unidentified girlfriend’ to a romantic night on a rooftop.” He cuts me off sharply. “I sent you the link; it has a photo with it, and it’s obviously you in the shot. They got your face.”

My eyebrows furrow as the realization dawns. Oh . Xiulei...

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

XIULEI

I stare at the headline in disbelief, the bolded text blaring brightly from my phone’s lit screen.

“China’s Best Paparazzi Strikes Again: Luhan’s Girlfriend”

Scrolling down, there is a blurred, bad-quality picture of Luhan on the rooftop, holding a shadowed, hoodie-clad figure in his arms, her face buried in his shoulder. . That’s me.

Below the image is a statement, italicized, reading, “Zhou Mi is at it again, stirring up sensation in the media this Monday morning by releasing a statement on Luhan’s new rumored girlfriend. He supports his claim with the picture above, taken Saturday night in the Beijing Haidian district. How do you all feel about this new couple?”

I feel my face flush slightly at the word “girlfriend”. And then, mentally slapping myself, I remind myself that that wasn’t what was important here.

At least… at least they can’t really see my face? I’m unidentified, so no saesangs are gonna burn me to the ground. But… oh my god, this is gonna hurt Luhan’s reputation… …

Scrolling even further, I see the beginnings of the comments from the netizens in piercingly dark, black font.

“Who does she think she is? With a figure like that, hugging our Luhan?? She can’t possibly be his girlfriend; he has better taste than that.”

“Fat and flat. Such a disgrace, holding our nation’s idol.”

“Can you even tell if that’s a girl? I see no chest- what if it were a guy heh…”

“This is just another trash rumor; I don’t believe Luhan’s got a girlfriend.”

“Back off; Luhan’s MINE.”

I flinch at the comments, looking down first at my legs and then my chest. They're… they're not wrong… I feel my cheeks burn at the thought.

Flipping to Luhan's Studio’s Weibo page, I pull down to refresh over and over, praying that he'd had some form of clarification. His followers had already began to drop. And this is all because of me; had I not dragged him out of bed on Saturday, this wouldn't even be an issue… A guilty twist lodges itself in my gut.

I am contemplating whether to call Luhan and ask if he knew about it when a message from his studio pops up. Attached to it is a video, and clicking it open, Luhan's voice blares from my speaker.

“Good afternoon to all my fans. First off, I want to thank everybody for being patient and not jumping to conclusions so quickly. Thank you all.” His figure bows on the screen.

“Secondly, I want to apologize. I'm sorry for making you LuFans worry. I know everyone is questioning whether the girl with me on the rooftop is my girlfriend.” He pauses, looking straight into the camera. His eyes are earnest.

“To be honest, she is not my girlfriend. She is just a friend that I have begun to look at like a little sister in the past few years. She has had some rough patches and experiences in her life, and what happened Saturday night was just me trying to help her. Nothing more. Again, she is only a little sister to me. So please do not spread rumors about a nonexistent girlfriend.” Luhan smiles apologetically.

“Last of all, I would like all of my fans to please respect the privacy of the girl in the photo. Like you all would want to protect your siblings, I want to protect her. I know my LuFans can do it, because you guys are the best fandom out there. Again, I apologize for making you all worry, and I will be more careful of my actions in the future.” Luhan bows again, and then the video fades to dark.

Staring at my empty phone screen, I gingerly press the power off button, trying to ignore the strange and foreign feeling in my chest. Somehow, while Luhan's explanation may have eased his fangirls’ sore hearts, it feels like an unrelenting arrow piercing into mine.

Only a little sister.

Sibling.

In the logical portion of my head, I know what he said was completely true; after all, I am like his sister, always dragging him into trouble when he least needs it, always depending on him.

But…

But.

But when had these butterflies started appearing inside me, making my heart flutter helplessly at his voice, in his embrace? Making my chest hurt so hard at the label he’d given me?

When had I began to count on his arms holding me like the way they did on the rooftop, infinitely safe and warm?

Was this the feeling of a sister loving her brother?

Or was this something else entirely?

I no longer knew the answer.