Chapter 2 – Well I'll be damned

The sound of the bell signalling the end of the lunch break came like a personal blessing for Chanyeol. He was out of his seat with his tray in hand before any of the teachers could even put down their cutlery. There was a nervous energy brewing in Chanyeol’s veins as he went to place his tray in the collection area, and he wanted nothing more than to head upstairs to his classroom and start his first class of the day.

Chanyeol didn’t explicitly mind talking to his fellow educators, but there was something about being the “newbie”, the only person not in on all the hot gossip, that made him feel awkward. Sure, he’d laughed along when someone had told the story about how the students that snuck around behind the media and communications building to smoke actually thought they were getting away with it, but he’d still felt out of place.

He didn’t get to dwell on the thought for long though, because soon after dropping his tray off, a loud “hey, wait up!” emanated from somewhere behind him, prompting the new teacher to spin around to seek out the source. It was Jongdae, a loud-mouthed singing teacher who specialised in jazz and swing. He had a grin on his face, along with soft, almost concerned-looking eyes framed by a mop of curly brown hair.

“Where’re you rushing off to?” he asked. “Minseok and I were just about to ask you if you wanted to walk back with us.”

Oh, okay. The tenseness in Chanyeol’s shoulders ebbed away at that, and he felt a coy smile pull at his lips, before nodding and following after the man. Minseok was waiting for them at the canteen doors, and he practically beamed when they came into view. He threw a casual arm around each of their shoulders before steering them back to the second-floor music rooms, and it left Chanyeol feeling oddly content.

Once they reached Minseok’s classroom, the first door to the right just past the stairs, Jongdae parted ways with them, waving over his shoulder as he headed down the hall and into his own classroom at the end. Once he was out of sight, Minseok turned to Chanyeol.

“Hey,” he said, placing a hand reassuringly on Chanyeol’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine. The kids aren’t too unruly.” Then, as if on cue, the bell rang a second time, announcing that class was starting.

Chanyeol smiled at Minseok and nodded as the other man headed inside his classroom. After a moment, Chanyeol threw him a quick “thanks!” before jogging down the hall to his own classroom.

The room was full of eager-looking students, most of them already sitting on stools with their guitars perched on their laps in waiting. Offering them a curt bow, Chanyeol gave them a muffled apology as he headed over to the desk pushed into the far corner of the room, picked his notes up from where he’d left them earlier. They were hidden under a pile of sheet music that he wasn’t familiar with; most of it was written in Italian, presumably from Kyungsoo’s opera class. Chanyeol had been told that he’d be sharing the other teacher’s classroom whilst the school cleared out Yixing Zhang’s former classroom for him. With the sudden change in staff, they hadn’t had the time to prepare things for Chanyeol, so for the time being, he’d just have to deal with the grumpy teacher’s indirect company.

After ordering his papers, Chanyeol flipped through the sheets briefly to gather his bearings. The students had gone quiet, all of them fixated on him, curious. There were twenty-eight students in Chanyeol’s class; less than most of the other teachers taught, thankfully. He wasn’t sure how he’d have dealt with being thrown straight in at the deep end, going from a maximum of two students to forty.

Somewhere in the back, one of the students coughed. Realising just how silent the room had been in the few minutes since Chanyeol had come in, he felt an embarrassed flush spread across his face, momentarily left staring blankly back at the students. He’d been so fixated on preparing for the class, that he’d forgotten to actually start it.

Laughing hesitantly, each sound its own staccato beat, Chanyeol offered the students a toothy smile.

“Err—hello everybody, I’m Cha—Mr. Park,” he corrected himself, remembering the correct etiquette that Junmyeon had been so particular about in his interview. “I’m going to be taking over the class from today onwards.”

A student, the same one that had coughed, raised his hand in the back. Having completely blanked all their names, Chanyeol offered the boy a weak “yes?”, exhorting him to ask his question.

The boy stood slowly, offered Chanyeol an inquisitive glance before asking his question, “what happened to Mr. Zhang?”

Now, how was Chanyeol supposed to answer that, when he himself had no idea? All Junmyeon had told him was that the man had had to attend to foreign affairs in China.

Running a hand through his hair, Chanyeol pursed his lips as he thought of an adequate answer. Finally, he managed a tentative, “he… had to relocate suddenly.”

‘Great. Way to make the man sound like a criminal on the run, Chanyeol. Good job,’ he thought, wincing upon realising just how he’d phrased it.

The boy’s eyes narrowed at him for a second, though he kept quiet, bowed, sat back down again. The class had broken out into a soft murmur at Chanyeol’s bizarre, pressure-induced choice of words, and Chanyeol was struggling to get them to quiet down.

“Hey, everyone… uh, if you could just s-settle down for a sec—” he tried, though they were no longer listening. Casting his eyes skywards, he said a silent prayer before turning resolutely and going over to the blackboard. He decided to scribble down a chord, the C-chord, before turning back to the class.

“Hey!” he tried, a little louder this time, though it was with little effect. Someone had started playing a tune on their guitar and had built up an audience in the other students.

Huffing, Chanyeol turned back to the blackboard and stared at his drawing. How could he make them listen?

Behind him, the student that was playing the guitar accidentally played a wrong note, and it sparked an idea in Chanyeol’s head. If they didn’t want to listen to him, then maybe just getting them to listen would be enough.

The teacher made his way over to the back of the room to where a grand piano was situated. It had a dust cover thrown over it, though he made quick work of pulling it over the keys, letting it fall onto the shut piano wing.

Seating himself down on the piano stool, he braced his fingers along the keys. The piano wasn’t his preferred choice of instrument, though he could play decently. He’d tutored his fair share of piano players, after all.

Now wasn’t the time for decent, though, and as Chanyeol started playing, the students finally turned to him, completely aghast. However, Chanyeol’s playing hadn’t galvanised them into finally paying him the attention he had so desperately been seeking due to his indubitable skill, but rather by his lack thereof. He was playing disjointed, terrible chord combinations, each one sounding less thought-out than the last.

Of course, the teacher was deliberately playing badly. Although really, it depended on whose opinion was being sought out. There was method to the madness, but even if the students didn’t understand that yet, the looks on their faces were worth the hassle.

After a few painful moments of Chanyeol playing to the almost distraught-looking students, he stilled, stared at them.

“So,” he asked finally, offering them a more confident smile than before. “Can any of you explain what I just played?”

Getting up from the stool, he walked back to the front of the room, the heavy feeling of the students’ eyes boring into his back emboldening him even further as he went. Back at the front of the room, he leant against the blackboard, just beside his drawing, and waited.

Nobody talked. The students were staring at him like he’d lost his head. Not a single one of them had anything to say, and the feeling boosted Chanyeol’s confidence enough that he could actually answer the open question for them.

“Have any of you ever heard of augmented chords?” Again, his follow-up question was met by silence. With a small tsking sound, he turned back to the blackboard, picked up a piece of chalk. “Well, even if you haven’t heard of them, I’m sure some of you have played them before, perhaps without even realising it." As he was talking, he started adding embellishments to the chord. First, he wrote a small diesis beside it, then scribbled the title “Caug” beneath it.

“Okay,” he said softly, before turning back to face the class. “So, as you can see, this is what an augmented C looks like. It’s pretty much the same as a C-major, except that you ‘accidentally’ play the fifth note a bit too high, so that it no longer sounds like a major chord.”

The students still weren’t talking, but some of them had taken out their notepads and pencils from under their chairs and were copying what the teacher had written.

“The notes I was playing for you on the piano were all augmented. We’re going to be starting today’s class off with an introduction into them; when they’re appropriate and when they really, really aren’t, as I just demonstrated,” Chanyeol earned himself a soft ripple of laughter from the class at that. It made him smile as he continued, “hopefully, by the time class is over, you’ll all be able to incorporate some into tomorrow’s lesson!”

The class offered him a short round of applause at that, and Chanyeol felt like he could melt. Sometimes, a shock to the system was all it took to garner the attention one was looking for.

As he pulled up a chair and sat in front of the class, opened his guitar case and took his own instrument out, he continued explaining various ways of implementing augmented chords without breaking any glass windows. Throughout the afternoon, the students seemed to warm up to the idea of having him as their new teacher, even asking questions and finally actively participating. The student that had been playing the tune on her guitar earlier, later introducing herself to Chanyeol as Jieun Lee, seemed to get the hang of things rather quickly, and soon she was happily helping out her classmates, leaving Chanyeol a few spare seconds to check through his schedule for the week. Aside from his guitar classes, he didn’t really have much else to do whilst his music room was being cleaned up. He’d been told to shadow some of the other teachers for a while, to see if he could take over any of their more minor roles in the foreseeable future, but aside from that it seemed that he had a steady 8AM to 4PM schedule.

Puffing his fringe out of his eyes, he peered at his students for a moment, smiling a little to himself, before getting up and commencing with the class.

***

The next day, Chanyeol barely made it to work on time. After the hassle of taking the train to the previous morning, he’d forsaken the public transport system that led to the Seoul Institute of Music and Performing Arts, instead taking his motor scooter out for a run. Having lived so close by his workplace for so long, he hardly ever got to use it anymore, so it was actually refreshing to be sitting on the hard, leather seat again and feeling the breeze on his skin.

What was not refreshing, though, was the morning traffic. Driving the short stretch between Gwangheungchang and Sangsu station alone took him almost thirty minutes! So, when the teacher finally arrived at the entrance of the visual arts building with two whole minutes to spare, it had to have been by some sort of miracle.

Helmet in hand, he took the steps two at a time as he made his way to his classroom. Just as he was about to go inside, he heard a flurried voice call from behind him, “Wait—Chanyeol, hold up!”

It was Minseok again, clad in a very serious dark-grey suit with a muted, red tie, and , should Chanyeol have worn something else? He’d come in a pair of black jeans and a lighter, denim button down, and he’d forgotten to put in his contacts, so he was wearing a pair of besmeared, wire-framed glasses. To top it all off, his helmet had ruffled his hair on the way, so he looked more dishevelled than anything, really.

“Jesus, you walk fast,” Minseok said as he caught up at last, effectively interrupting his worrying. “I almost forgot to tell you,” the man said, his voice breathy with exertion. “We have a staff meeting this evening regarding the end of year play. I’m afraid you’ll have to attend… hopefully it won’t take as long as last year’s did—if things go well, that is…” he trailed off, mumbling the last part more so to himself than anybody.

“O-oh,” Chanyeol managed, brows furrowing slowly. “Okay. Is there anything special I need to take into account? Anything to bring along?” The last thing he wanted to do to add to his seemingly inappropriate choice of clothing for the obviously paramount meeting was to come unprepared.

Minseok shook his head, but then stopped suddenly, a lightbulb apparently lighting up in his head as he instead answered with an almost frenetic voice, “ah! One thing that you absolutely must remember is—”

“Hey, Minseok!” came Jongdae’s voice from where he had popped his head out of his classroom down the hall, cutting him off. “We need your help with this routine. C’mon!”

Minseok turned immediately, conversation forgotten, and clapped a hand on Chanyeol’s arm. “Oh shoot, it’s important. I’ve got to run. I’m sure you’ll be fine, though! Just play it cool.” That being said, the man took off at a light jog, leaving a very perplexed Chanyeol in his wake.

’Play it cool, huh?’ he thought to himself as he headed back inside his classroom. If there was one thing Chanyeol could confidently say he had not yet mastered since being in the employ of the Seoul Institute of Music and Performing Arts, it was that. Sure, confidence got him a long way, but the way he tended to lose track of his thoughts and digress had occasionally left him appearing as though he lacked concentration, or worse, interest.

So, when his lunch break rolled around, he speed-dialled his sister’s number to ask for some friendly, from-one-sibling-to-another advice.

“Ugh, Chanyeol, why are you calling me now? I’m about to go on air—”

“Look, could you just shut upfor a second?! I need to ask you something,” Chanyeol whisper-hissed. They couldn’t speak in his classroom; Kyungsoo would be arriving soon to prepare for his next class. Huffing aloud, he squawked a quick “wait a second” down the line before leaving the classroom and looking around for a more secure place to talk. Trying one of the other classrooms wasn’t a possibility, he knew that much… but what about the toilets? Most of the students had already headed downstairs, anyway. They’d probably all be using the downstairs toilets over the lunch break, so it was actually a convenient solution.

Hurrying down the hall, Chanyeol peered around him before heading into the men’s room. Standing in the open room with its floor-to-ceiling tiles would echo too much, though; he didn’t want to be obtrusive. So, he walked inside a stall and locked the door, flipped the toilet lid down and perched cautiously atop it.

“Look, just make it quick,” his sister was saying. Chanyeol just rolled his eyes before finally explaining the situation to her.

“Well I don’t see how you expect me to help you,” she quipped once he was finished, and Chanyeol wanted nothing more than to reach down the line and shake her—

“—so we’ll have to completely rearrange the stage layouts because of Soojung, because apparently the way the props are arranged isn’t ‘dynamic’ enough for her, whatever the hell that means—” a voice said, the sound suddenly bursting into the toilets from outside. Eyes flying wide, Chanyeol managed to hiss a quick “shh!” at his sister before he was joined by the interlopers. The teacher fell quiet as he heard them draw nearer to his stall. , who else would’ve especially come all the way up to the second floor toilets?

“Well you know what she’s like,” said a second voice in response to the first, chuckling softly. Chanyeol knew that voice. It was Kyungsoo. That part at least made sense. But who was he talking to? Why did the men have to walk in now?

“I know, but she just really tests me sometimes. She thinks that, just because she has a ing masters degree in performance studies that that makes me her lapdog?”

Chanyeol heard the sound of a zipper opening, and then another, followed by a soft tinkling sound.

“Oh, come on Baekhyun, everyone knows that she respects you—”

Oh.

Oh.

Chanyeol clasped a hand in front of his mouth to muffle his breathing. What was the theatre coordinator doing there?

Somehow, the thought of him ever coming in this building had never even dawned on Chanyeol, who jumped at the sudden sound of the urinals flushing. The toilet seat lid he was perched on squeaked softly under his weight—

“Hey, Chanyeol! Look, if you’re going to be a little about this, then fine, but don’t involve me! Unlike you, I actually have to get back to work now. I’ll talk to you later.” Yoora’s staticky voice came from his phone’s speakers so loudly, the other men had to have heard it. Chanyeol froze in place, utterly motionless, the only sound in the room the quiet beeping emanating from his phone once, twice, three times to indicate that the call had ended.

Chanyeol wanted nothing more than for the ground to open and swallow him—

But no, the moment of silence just continued, stretching out until Chanyeol felt a wave of sweat surge unpleasantly down his back. His hairs were standing on end as he grew more and more tense with each passing second. The men were obviously done with their business, so what exactly were they waiting for? Chanyeol ran his hands over his face, pushing his glasses up as he silently willed them to stop existing.

Of course, his wish was not to come to fruition. Instead, Kyungsoo called out, voice a mixture of confusion and general displeasure, “Chanyeol? Is that you?”

Well, it seemed the time for hiding was over. Hesitantly, Chanyeol stood, peered out over the top of the stall door at the two of them. Despite his tall stature, only the upper-half of his face was visible to them, along with his sneakers, which were peeking out from underneath the door. He was sure that, even with so little skin showing, they could tell how shamefaced he was.

“Oh—hi! Hey, Kyungsoo… and, uh, you,” he said, eyes flicking from Kyungsoo, to Baekhyun, where they lingered for a second. After another unnervingly long moment of silence, he finally unlocked the door, stepped out into the open. “Err, sorry about that. My sister called…” he trailed off, looking everywhere but the two men. Similarly to Minseok, the two of them were dressed to a tea in dapper suits and ties, with neatly styled hair to match. Unlike yesterday though, neither of them was wearing glasses (so it had been Baekhyun that he’d seen in the canteen!), and they both gave off a generally more put-together vibe than Chanyeol, who was standing there with his arms awkwardly dangling at his sides.

“I can see that,” Kyungsoo eventually replied, sounding thoroughly unconvinced. The man beside him, Baekhyun, seemed far more enthusiastic though.

“Kyungsoo, come now. Don’t be rude—introduce me to your friend,” he said, peering at Chanyeol out the corner of his eye. The man’s voice was like molten honey; a rich sound that came from deep in his chest, though it currently held an almost teasing tone. Chanyeol felt another wave of sweat run over him.

“He’s not…” Kyungsoo started, but he seemed to think better of it, instead rephrasing, “Baekhyun, this is Chanyeol Park. He’s Yixing’s replacement.”

Again, Chanyeol felt that same pang of despondency in his chest. It seemed to be a feeling he specifically associated with Kyungsoo by this point.

“Well I’ll be damned,” the man said, placing a hand on his hip and languidly staring Chanyeol up and down. Chanyeol could feel his cheeks aflame under the attention—again, another thing he now associated with this school and the people that worked there.

Laughing nervously, Chanyeol bowed to the two of them, before bidding them both a hasty goodbye.

“Well, I’ll… catch you later, then,” he said, before backing out of the room and making a bee-line back to his classroom, completely forgetting about lunch in his post-stupor state.

***

It seemed that Chanyeol’s idea of waiting out the remainder of his lunch break in his and Kyungsoo’s classroom was taking its toll on him. As the afternoon went on, his stomach started producing steadily loudening growling noises, reminding him of just how foolish a choice it had been. By the time the last of the students had cleared out of the room, he felt like he was going to faint.

“I’ll accompany you to the meeting, if you want,” came Kyungsoo’s voice from across the room. The man had made the executive decision of not bringing up the awkward lunchtime encounter, saving face for both of them. Chanyeol hated to admit it, but he was grateful to him for it.

“Oh, right… sure, okay,” Chanyeol said, peering up at him from where he’d been stacking chairs against the back wall. Kyungsoo took that as their sign to get going and picked up a laptop bag he’d tucked away behind their shared desk that morning, before beckoning for Chanyeol to follow him. For a man of his shorter stature, he walked fast, and he had no issue keeping up with Chanyeol as they headed out of the visual arts building and across the winding, gravel pathway that connected it to the administration centre.

The building was a true architectural marvel; with rounded, cylindrical glass shapes jutting out from it on all sides, forming external walkways sloping from floor to floor. The structure looked otherworldly in the dimming evening light—the way it refracted off the glass made the shapes almost look like arms, hugging around the building protectively. It was one of the most futuristic buildings Chanyeol had ever encountered, and that was coming from someone who had grown up in the heart of Seoul.

“Hey! Kyungsoo, Chanyeol,” a familiar voice said as they neared the building’s entrance. It was Jongdae. He was clasping a steaming to-go cup of coffee tightly between his hands, and he also had a laptop bag thrown over his shoulder. Chanyeol didn’t even have a laptop. Just his iMac at home that he had used to record practice tracks for his students.

Kyungsoo waved at Jongdae as they drew closer. He had explained on the way over that they’d agreed to meet outside the building’s secondary entrance. The primary entrance was for external visitors during the day, and it faced the street just outside the campus. The secondary entrance was only intended for enrolled students and staff.

Shouldering his way inside, Jongdae held the door open for them before directing them to the lifts. There was already another group of teachers waiting there, and Chanyeol’s companions comfortably struck up conversation with them as they all stepped into the lift.

Despite the building’s outer appearances, what awaited Chanyeol in the meeting room was pretty standard. It was a large, open space, occupied by a long table that had been pushed against a wall, as well as fifty odd chairs placed about, probably last-minute. Jongdae and Kyungsoo quickly located Minseok and the other teachers from their department and manoeuvred their way over to them, Chanyeol hot on their heels. In the end, there weren’t enough seats, as the directors and department heads had been prioritised and pushed to the front, so some of the other teachers were left to sit on the windowsill or lean against the wall. Chanyeol was one of the less fortunate people that ended up having to lean against the wall at the back of the room, straining to hear the speakers at the front. One of them had introduced herself as Chaerin Lee, University Chancellor and the planning lead for their project. The other speaker had introduced himself as Sooman Lee, the founder of the school, who had flown in from Busan specifically for the meeting.

Well, that explained the suits. Everyone in the room was wearing one, save for Chanyeol, and it made him feel almost glad for his low-visibility spot in the back of the room. He was effectively hidden from the speakers’ view, despite being almost a head taller than most of the people present.

As the speakers got started with their presentation, first listing the upcoming topics for the evening, they were interrupted by the sound of the double doors to the meeting room sliding open to reveal an almost flustered-looking Baekhyun, car keys in his right hand and a large Starbucks coffee in the other. The lapels to his suit jacket were slightly askew, and his shirt looked a little creased, but aside from that, he looked just as dignified as he had earlier.

The two presenters stilled, but they didn’t react. Instead, the man, Mr. Lee, nodded towards the back of the room. Bowing, Baekhyun followed the man’s silent order, shuffling his way past the other attendees and finally finding a spot against the wall a few feet away from Chanyeol. He took a minute to set his things down, tossing the bag he’d had slung over his shoulder into a narrow gap on the windowsill between two other teachers and setting his drink beside it. He too pulled a laptop out of the bag, and Chanyeol felt himself wondering if Minseok’s advice had been perhaps a little too offhand.

Well, at least he’d brought his music notes with him. Quietly, he tapped the person seated in front of him on the shoulder, asked if he could borrow a pen. The woman offered him an almost incensed look, but she obliged, quietly bending to rummage through her handbag before pulling out a lipstick-smeared Bic Roller. Chanyeol, refraining from reacting to the grimy-looking writing utensil as he took it from her, thanked the woman silently, earning himself a dismissive wave of her hand as she turned back around to focus on the presentation.

Turning his sheet music over, Chanyeol inspected the pages until he found one that wasn’t double-sided, noted down the date at the top of the page and braced himself to start taking notes.

Absently, he took notice of a faint tittering sound from his left. Looking over out the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Baekhyun in his peripheral. The man was intently staring at his laptop, busy typing something or other, though there was a faint smile playing at his lips that he was struggling to suppress as he took a sip from his venti Starbucks coffee. Chanyeol pursed his lips together at the sight, brows furrowing.

Was the musical coordinator laughing at him?

Something in Chanyeol’s gut was telling him to react; to humour the man, maybe grin back at him. Then again, they were in a room full of very serious-looking teachers, and their—well, he supposed it could be considered flirting—albeit covert, was totally uncalled for, especially considering the fact that the two of them had already made quite the impression on the other attendees. Between Chanyeol’s denim shirt and Baekhyun’s tardiness, it was enough shame for a lifetime. Plus, according to Minseok, the man was married! So, Chanyeol ignored the instinct and turned back to the front, pen steadied against his makeshift notepad in waiting.

***

The meeting droned on, it seemed, for hours. Chanyeol felt himself repressing yawn after yawn behind his hand as the presenters showed slide upon slide, making sure to reference every department as they meandered from one topic to the next. Chanyeol had already completely filled the back of his music sheet with hasty chicken scrawl; notes about department schedules and important check-in dates with directors, as well as thematic suggestions and a long list of the project collaborators’ names. The music and dance departments were to work closely with the theatre coordinators and technical crew to avoid the same mistakes that had happened last year—not that Chanyeol knew what these mistakes actually were.

By the time the meeting was adjourned, Chanyeol had resorted to such small cacography, the words snaking up the page margins and wrapping around the rest of the text, effectively framing it, that he himself could hardly discern the words. Jongdae snorted from where he stood beside him now once he caught sight of the scribbles.

In front of them, Minseok stood then from his much more comfortable position in one of the plastic chairs, exclaimed a relieved, “whoo, Bedtime!” The lucky bugger had arrived early and managed to secure a seat before the masses of other teachers had gotten there. Chanyeol just sighed, before peering down at his watch. It was 10:43PM already; he’d been standing in the same spot for the last four hours. The thought alone made him wince.

Junmyeon walked over to them then from where he’d been sitting with the other directors at the front of the meeting room, careful not to bump into any of them as they filed out into the hallway outside through the much-too-narrow-for-the-circumstances glass doors at the far end of the room.

“So?” he asked, offering them all an encouraging smile. “Think we’ll be on top of our game this time around?” He earnt himself some muffled words of agreement from the group of teachers, who all looked the worse for wear. Seemingly happy with the reply, Junmyeon nodded and turned then, beckoning the group to follow him out after the masses of other teachers. They were on the 14th floor, and even just the thought of having to walk all the way over to the lifts made Chanyeol cringe, let alone having to wait in one of the long queues lining up to them.

However, as it turned out, pretty much the entire group of visual arts teachers had collectively decided to just grin and bear it and walk all the way down to the ground floor through one of the extruding, glass walkways. Chanyeol felt a protestive whine rising in his throat, but he willed it down as he reluctantly followed after the group as they headed out into one of the winding, glass shafts leading downwards.

“Oh, ,” came a voice from behind him once they were a few floors in. Turning around, Chanyeol was surprised to see that it was Baekhyun. His suit jacket was still a little dishevelled, and some of his hair had fallen out of its neatly combed-back style and into his eyes. However, unlike the rest of the group, he looked rather chirpy—though, if his now-empty cup of espresso was anything to go by, Chanyeol was going to assume that his good mood hadn’t occurred entirely naturally.

“What’s wrong?” Chanyeol asked, peering at him curiously. After a moment’s delay, he slowed down a little so they could walk next to each other.

“I ing hate these stupid tunnel-things,” came Baekhyun’s reply. “I tell you, whoever they hired to build this place is a terrorist and should be locked up.” His affected words had Chanyeol tittering quietly. Despite his sprightly outward demeaner, Baekhyun sounded jittery, and his eyes were fixated on the glass ceiling, consciously avoiding the long drop below them. Even the floors of the tunnels were glass, so it really was, for all intents and purposes, like being suspended 100 feet above ground.

Chanyeol smirked then. “Are you afraid of heights?” he asked, catching the way Baekhyun’s shoulders drew together at the word “heights”. In an almost indignant tone, the man gave him a bout of caustic side-eye, answered, “pfft, don’t be absurd,” which made Chanyeol’s smile widen even further, despite his best efforts to act nonchalant.

Chanyeol wasn’t left floundering for long, though. “So,” came Baekhyun’s voice, demanding attention as it gripped at Chanyeol’s consciousness like a vice. Chanyeol could hear the smile in the man’s tone before he saw it as he countered, “not a fan of decorum?”

A blush crept its way onto Chanyeol’s face at that. He could feel his palms becoming clammy at the comment. The rest of the group was a few paces ahead of them, rapt in some conversation of their own about a particular piece of choreography. The lack of other people surrounding them just made Chanyeol’s reaction all the more obvious as he turned away from Baekhyun to instead stare out the glass walkway at the view down below. The teacher had managed to get through the entire day without having to deal with any comments on his poor choice of attire—until now. The sly, almost playfully confrontational tone in Baekhyun’s voice had his heart pounding with embarrassment-fuelled adrenaline. He tried his best to ignore it though, instead answering Baekhyun in a similar manner.

“So,” he said. “Not a fan of punctuality?” Despite his intrepidly pointed choice of words, his voice came out hoarse, uneven in tone. Baekhyun just laughed, shaking his head. Absently, Chanyeol noticed just how lovely the man’s smile was. It was wide and boxy, backed up by a set of perfect teeth—

Wait, was Chanyeol really fixating on Baekhyun’s smile? His mind suddenly seemed void of any other thoughts as he peered at the man, who was quietly walking alongside him, eyes still roaming about the ceiling above them.

Chanyeol didn’t notice that the two of them had fallen silent until they reached the ground floor and regrouped with everyone else. He was about to turn and say something to Baekhyun, perhaps “goodbye”, or “thanks for walking down with me”—he honestly didn’t quite know himself—when a woman walked up to them, arms thrown wide and smiling brilliantly.

“Baekhyunnie! There you are; I’ve been looking all over for you!” she exclaimed dramatically. Baekhyun muttered a gruff “” under his breath before she was on top of him, wrapping her hands around him and pulling him into a tight bear-hug. There was an uncomfortable expression on Baekhyun’s face as he lightly patted her on the back with one hand.

“Soojung, hi…” he mumbled. Pulling away, he offered her a small smile—a fake one, Chanyeol noted, now that he’d seen what the real-deal looked like—and a pleasant laugh, all traces of his previous expression wiped clean off his face. Placing a hand on the small of the woman’s back, he urged her towards the doors. He turned to peer at Chanyeol behind her, mouthed, “I’ll catch you round,” and winked—did he really just do that?!—before hurriedly following after his new companion. Chanyeol watched them go, an eyebrow quirked and his blush from before creeping back up his face, before finally heading over to the other visual arts teachers where they were standing near the exit to bid them goodbye.

“Ah! Chanyeol,” said Junmyeon upon his arrival. “We were just talking about you.” Behind him, Chanyeol could see Jongdae and Amber smirking at him. He pointedly ignored them, instead focusing on what Junmyeon was telling him, though the blush sitting high on his cheekbones did little to appease their snickering.

“I need you and Amber to come in early to check in with the theatre department tomorrow morning. 7AM works for you, I’m assuming? There’s been a rework in the choreography, so we need the two of you to rework the musical accompaniment,” Junmyeon said, and despite having to set his alarm back an hour, Chanyeol didn’t seem to mind the new arrangement all that much.

****

Annyeongggg! I realise that I got a little technical with all the music stuff in this chapter, but I just really like, well, music stuff. So yeah… sorry about that part.

Also, I was listening to Baekhyun's song "Young" (because ummm SMtown and aOmg collabs? hell yeah) and I kept getting distracted by his otherworldly beauty and those ing bEIGE CHINOS LIKE WTF, so I'm sorry if certain parts of this chapter seem… disjointed? I was a little absent-minded when I was writing. *nervous laughter*

Anyway, aside from that, please let me know if you found any weird  dotted about, and feel free to leave suggestions for the story in the comments! What will happen when Chanyeol goes to the theatre? Will the subtle flirting become more overt? Will someone make a move already?! Let me know what you're feeling! Comments really help me piece this story together. :3

P.S. I'm a prime typo-culprit, so if indeed you do find me guilty as charged, I'd really appreciate you letting me know!

P.P.S. This chapter ended up being a little longer than the first. Apologies if it comes across as long-winded at times!

So yeah! That's all, folks! I'll catch you later. ;)