“I’ve been searching for a trail to follow again;
Take me back to the night we met.”

(Lord Huron, The Night We Met)

—

Present Day

The salty night breeze is cool and crisp against your flushed skin. Your cheek feels warm against your palm when you lean on it; perhaps you’ve had five too many glasses of wine for this evening.

The newlyweds are slow dancing to a jazz instrumental version of “Grow Old With You” as they gaze at each other lovingly, and your lips couldn’t help but form a wistful smile. Kyungsoo’s world-famous heart-shaped grin is on full display as it has been all night. No one can blame him, really; Yuna looks beyond beautiful in her wedding gown, the light reflecting on the embedded crystals making her shine—quite literally—as if she isn’t already the most alluring woman in the room. They make a rather striking pair.

Their song choice may be questionable (“Grow Old With You” is terribly cliché for a wedding), but the pure bliss in their eyes is undeniable. Anyone with two eyes can tell that they are what each other has been looking for: the missing piece of the puzzle, or so they say.

You’re not sure how to describe it anymore, because it’s been a while since you’ve felt anything like that—since you’ve felt love.

Something buzzes on the table. Your phone lights up as you look down, displaying a text from a pathetic excuse for a best friend. You still can’t believe he left you here alone.

[ Sehun / 20:46 ]
So… did you cry already? I know how weddings turn you into a crybaby.

[ You / 20:46 ]
Shut up. Don’t text me. I’m still mad at you.

[ Sehun / 20:48 ]
Nah, you love me too much. Is he there?

Your head instinctively snaps up after reading Sehun’s message, looking for someone you know well isn’t there. As much as you hate to admit it, you’ve been looking for him all night. To be fair, he’s supposed to be one of Kyungsoo’s closest friends, so he should be here. But you’re not sure if you’re just telling yourself that in order to justify the disappointment that you felt when you couldn’t find him anywhere.

Byun Baekhyun’s signature smirk suddenly comes into view. “Looking for someone?” He teases, as if he already doesn’t know the answer to his question. He’s still the same annoying kid after all these years.

“Maybe,” you shrug, sipping the last of your fifth wine glass as you arch your brow playfully. “Or maybe I was just looking to see which new girl you’ve managed to charm since the reception started. I stopped counting at four.”

Baekhyun laughs, the loud and high-pitched one he lets out when he’s losing it, and the sound carries a heavy wave of nostalgia with it that almost knocks you off your seat. It’s reminiscent of the high school days when the teacher wasn’t around and you and your friends would circle your armchairs around and just talk and laugh about things, with Baekhyun right in the middle of the commotion as he always was.

That was so long ago, you realize. Something pinches your heart.

“Hmm, maybe you’re the next girl I’ll charm tonight.”

Rolling your eyes, you say, “I thought we’ve established long ago that your ‘charms’ don’t work on me.”

“I know,” Baekhyun concedes, but the mischievous smile still hasn’t left his lips. “Everybody knows only one guy has managed to break through your great wall of feelings.”

It’s funny, how just as Baekhyun says that, the man you’ve been searching for all night finally shows up.

He heads to Kyungsoo and Yuna’s table before anything else, apologizing for his astounding punctuality. Nothing much has changed in the way he looks; perhaps he’s grown a bit bulkier and a couple inches taller, but he still exudes the same elfish charisma that you’re all too familiar with.

Another thing you’re all too familiar with? The pang in your chest that only he can incite.

With cold and shaking hands, you grab your phone on the table.

[ You / 20:59 ]
He’s here. He just arrived.

[ Sehun / 21:00 ]
Interesting.

Ignoring Sehun’s cryptic reply, you lock your phone and put it back down.

You look up to find him now standing in front of you. He looks even more the same up close—it’s almost terrifying. Your chest tightens as you take your first good look at him after ten years; his smile is just as you remember it—as bright as the sun—and his hair is styled in a way that resembles a comma, just like it was back in high school. He looks beautiful, just as you left him. Or rather, the other way around. Technically, it’s him who left you.

You haven’t seen him in so long that now, as you’re looking at him, he looks unreal, like he just somehow materialized from your memory. He seems like a dream, and he is. He always has been a dream.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hey, Chanyeol.”

October 2005

“Chanyeol, please sit down,” Ms. Song sighs.

You laugh at the kid who was scolded. Chanyeol. He’s always at the receiving end of teachers’ scolding, but he’s not really a troublemaker. Well, not totally. He’s just goofy, that’s all. He always has this unmeasurable energy, like he eats a jar of sugar for breakfast, but he’s a nice kid.

You’ve never really talked to him in depth, but he seems like the type of person that wouldn’t be hard to be friends with. Well, he’s friends with Baekhyun, so that’s another good sign.

“Okay, now that Mr. Park’s finally settled down,” Ms. Song begins, “let’s begin our agenda for today. First things first: seating arrangements.”

The class collectively sighs.

“I hate this part of the year,” Sehun whispers. “I don’t want to switch seats. I’m perfectly fine with where I’m seated right now.”

You scoff. “You’re saying that because you copy off of me.”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he says. “Who do you want to be seated next to for the rest of the year?”

You look around the room to see if there’s anyone you’re particularly fond of. “Hmm, I’m okay with anyone, actually,” you decide.

“I’m jealous,” Sehun pouts, and for a split second, you almost feel bad for him, but then you remember that he’s Sehun. “I’ll take anyone as a seatmate except for Baekhyun. I don’t think I can handle his mouth.”

You just laugh at Sehun’s remark. Byun Baekhyun’s infamous for being loud and outgoing. Teachers usually have a hard time shutting him up.

But Baekhyun’s nice, judging from all the times you’ve hung around him. He’s very easy-going, not difficult at all to be around with. As a matter of fact, you admire his personality; you appreciate people who always find a way to make the mood lively. Perhaps that’s why he’s friends with Chanyeol: they’re like the same person but in different bodies.

“Ms. Class President, if you’re done chortling with Mr. Oh over there, maybe you can come up here and help me do the roll call.”

“Sure thing, Ms. Song,” you smile because you know that she’s not really mad. One of the perks of being class president: you’re the homeroom adviser’s favorite. “‘Kay, guys, you know the drill: take all your stuff and form two lines at the side of the room and then sit where I tell you to.”

The class does as they’re told, but not without a few sad sighs and quiet complaints.

You’ve been in Ms. Song’s advisory class since freshman year and it’s been a tradition to change the class’ seating arrangement after every semester. Though, you’re not sure what’s the point of all this. For all you know, it’s just a waste of Ms. Song’s time to draw up different seat plans every six months, but to her credit, she always comes up with interesting seating arrangements.

The desks are arranged by two, so you don’t really have a choice but to try to get along with whoever your seatmate is going to be. This is why you couldn’t hide your laughter when you saw who Sehun was going to be stuck with for the semester.

“Oh Sehun, you get the honor to sit in the front row this time.”

In very Sehun-like fashion, he makes his way to the seat up front with his signature eye roll. He mutters something about Ms. Song being an old hag while he walks past you, but you couldn’t catch the rest of his sentence. There’s probably some more profanities in there somewhere.

“Byun Baekhyun…”

“Oh hell no,” you hear Sehun say from his seat.

Baekhyun beams. “No way. I get to sit at the front?”

“No,” Sehun repeats in disbelief.

“Yes,” you confirm with a sweet smile that you know will piss Sehun off.

Baekhyun makes his way to the other side of the desk where Sehun’s seated as you continue calling other names, and even though you couldn’t see Sehun, you’re pretty sure he’s scowling right now.

The roll call goes on. “Doh Kyungsoo, you’re with Kim Jongdae. Kim Jongin…” You falter for a second until you realize that you’re speaking in front of the class. You clear your throat, hoping no one noticed. “Jongin next to Soojung.”

From the corner of your eye, you could feel Sehun not trying his best to hide his smirk. You try your best not to glare at him and quietly remind yourself to kill him at lunch.

Jongin walks past you with Soojung following behind him, and you try to ignore the jealousy stabbing at your chest. Of all people, why did it have to be him and her?

Wanting to end the roll call as soon as possible, you babble, “Chanyeol, you’re with me,” before quickly closing Ms. Song’s class book and handing it back to her.

“Thank you, Class President,” she says. “Everyone good with their new seatmates?” A few unsatisfied whispers resonate throughout the room. “Oh, save your breaths. We all know it doesn’t matter who sits next to who in this class, you’re all gonna get loud in a few weeks time anyway. Now onto the second thing on our agenda…”

You probably should’ve been listening to that since you’re class president and all, but you’ve grown a sudden interest in your new desk because your stupid brain couldn’t stop thinking about how Jongin and Soojung are going to be seated next to each other for the rest of the year.

“That was really subtle, by the way,” your new seatmate whispers in your ear. You look at Chanyeol with fake confusion. He expounds, “You know, the roll call with Jongin and Soojung. Really subtle. Pretty sure no one noticed how you looked like someone died when you read their names together.”

You let out a half-hearted chuckle. “Baekhyun was right. You are hilarious.”

“What else has Baekhyun said about me?” He smirks.

“Not much,” you admit. “You’ll have to fill me in on the things he missed.”

Present Day

“This whole situation is so awkward that it puts the time my mom asked my dad about his mistress to shame,” Baekhyun laughs. He’s right about this moment being awkward, but you’re not sure if he’s kidding about that other thing.

“Thank you, Baekhyun, for pointing out the obvious and for that anecdote no one asked for,” Chanyeol says, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Baekhyun stands up from his seat. “I’m impressed, Yeol. You use words like ‘anecdote’ now. Ten years ago you probably didn’t know what that meant.” Chanyeol gives him the middle finger and Baekhyun playfully slaps it away. “I guess I’ll leave the two of you to fill in each other on the things you’ve missed for the past ten years,” he simpers. “Ciao!”

When Baekhyun is out of earshot, Chanyeol says, “He’s still so… annoying.”

“Can’t argue with your logic,” you agree, laughing as you do. “I think it’s cute, though. He hasn’t changed a bit since high school.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be a bad thing? People not changing?”

“Well, it depends on the situation,” you decide after thinking about it for a while. “What I meant was that Baekhyun’s still playful. It’s kind of nice that something from high school still survived after ten years.”

“I guess you’re right,” he chuckles as he finally takes a seat beside you. “You’ve changed, though. Long time no see.”

Suddenly the room feels too cramped despite the venue being outdoors with the soft sound of waves crashing against the shore and the gentle sea breeze blowing through the reception.

“Really?” You force yourself to laugh, trying your best to ignore the way your chest is tightening. “When I saw you I thought you didn’t change much. I just thought you grew taller even though I’m not sure how that’s possible.” You’ve changed a long time ago, you want to add.

Chanyeol smiles, the kind that causes only the left side of his mouth to curl up. Oh, how you’ve missed seeing that. “You just… look different. You’re smiling wider now. It’s nice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, you sported a terrifying resting face in high school,” he says. “I’m pretty sure you’re aware of that, though. You’re just acting coy right now.”

You smile as you look at Chanyeol curiously, trying to gauge what game he’s playing at tonight.

‘Long time no see’ is the understatement of the century when it comes to the two of you—it’s been literally a decade since you last spoke, let alone saw each other, and yet he’s sitting here casually with you, conversing as if the last message he sent you wasn’t a birthday greeting that never got a response.

It’s not that you haven’t forgiven him. It took you a long time to realize it, but you’ve forgiven him so long ago. It just feels… weird; weird in a sense that it’s like the past ten years never happened, like the two of you are normal friends that are continuing a conversation that was interrupted.

“I’ll admit to the resting face, but not the terrifying part,” you say after a while. “You were never terrified of me. You actually acted way too familiar when we first became seatmates in sophomore year, teasing me about Jongin and . It was really annoying, by the way.”

Chanyeol shakes his head and says, “I was extremely terrified of you. Everyone was. Apart from the permanent scowl, you were class president and everything, so you were practically untouchable. I was just trying to be friendly because I saw you hanging out with Baekhyun and anyone who’s okay with Baekhyun’s okay with me.”

“What are you talking about?” You laugh incredulously. “Everyone and their mother’s okay with Baekhyun. He was like friends with the entire school and the whole town.”

“What I meant was,” he begins to explain himself, “Baekhyun was scared of you too, but you turned out to be cool. So I assumed you had the same humor as we did.”

Your brow arches in interest. “Byun Baekhyun was scared of me in high school?”

“Plenty,” Chanyeol confirms, nodding. “Pretty sure he still is. I think everyone else, too. You have a pretty strong personality, and even though Baekhyun acts all laidback and , he’s scared of women who come off strong. I’m still wondering how he managed to woo Taeyeon… you remember her, right?”

“I remember Kim Taeyeon, all right,” you nod. She was literally all the boys in the school talked about, so it doesn’t make sense for anyone to not know her. “So is that why Baekhyun’s such a serial flirt? Is it his defense mechanism for women with strong personalities?”

Chanyeol shrugs, “I wouldn’t know. I’m an engineer, not a therapist. Maybe, though.”

He became an engineer after all, you silently tell yourself. Before you can say anything about it to Chanyeol, your phone buzzes again.

[ Sehun / 21:36 ]
You’re talking to him right now… aren’t you?

[ You / 21:37 ]
What if I am? We’re just catching up.

[ Sehun / 21:37 ]
“Catching up” my balls.

“Sehun?” Chanyeol asks, stealing quick glances at your phone. He’s smiling, but there’s something else in his eyes. You don’t want to find out what that is. “I was wondering why he isn’t here.”

“I see that you’re still as nosy as ever.”

Chanyeol crosses his arms in front of his chest defensively. “To be fair, I wasn’t the one who asked you for your Twitter password when we were still—”

“You still play ball?” You question quickly to avoid the direction Chanyeol’s trying to steer this conversation into. It’s one thing to catch up; it’s another thing to bring up irrelevant things about the past. “I heard you made varsity in college.”

“Pool B, but yeah,” he answers quietly. “My favorite court’s still the run-down one in our old campus, though. Nothing compares to that, even though the backboard was practically just one layup away from breaking into a million pieces. You remember that?”

Of course you remember that stupid basketball court. How could you not?

“You and Baek and all the other guys cut class just to play ball. Delinquents.”

“Hey!” Chanyeol complains, “You did too!”

November 2005

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

An annoying shadow blocks the sunlight from where you’re seated. You open your eyes to see the source of the shadow—an equally annoying person. Chanyeol wriggles his eyebrows at you, prompting you to answer him, but your mind goes blank as your vision recovers from the sudden light.

Chanyeol’s uniform is ed, revealing an undershirt that is horrible at being an undershirt as it leaves very little to the imagination as sweat makes the thin fabric cling to Chanyeol’s skin, outlining the muscles of his torso.

You swallow thickly as you try your best to sound unconcerned. “Can you get your out of my face? We get it, you work out. Now, move. I’m trying to get some sun here.”

“You didn’t answer my question. What are you doing here? Isn’t it third period?”

“What are you doing here?” You turn the tables around. It’s hilarious how he’s telling you that you’re supposed to be in class while him and his friends are playing basketball at possibly the ugliest court in the entire world when they know full well that it’s third period.

Chanyeol sighs, wiping the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. “Look, you’re class president. Mr. Lee’s gonna notice that you’re gone.”

“Who do you think sent me?” He freezes as soon as you say that, his eyes growing so wide you’re convinced they’re going to pop out of this head any second now. He almost runs to his other delinquent friends when you yank him back and try not to die of laughter. “I’m joking, Chanyeol.”

“What?”

“Mr. Lee didn’t send me. He didn’t even go to class today. It’s free cut.”

Chanyeol still doesn’t look convinced, narrowing his eyes at you. “You’re serious?” You nod sincerely. “If you’re messing with me I’m gonna stick gum on your desk after the detention I get for cutting class.”

“That’s a disgusting threat. Lame, but disgusting.”

“You know you’re still holding my wrist, right?”

Your eyes travel down your hand clasped around his wrist, immediately letting it go when you realize that Chanyeol’s right. You pray that you don’t look as red as you feel right now.

Chanyeol chuckles for reasons you have no interest in finding out and sits next to you on one of the stone benches that surround the old basketball court. The place is older than any of you were; it’s been here since before your brother graduated, and even that was eight years ago.

It’s been bugging you for a while now why school administrators won’t just destroy the court and turn it into something else useful, maybe a football field or something, since the court only takes up a small portion of the field at the heart of campus.

Sehun argued before that maybe it has sentimental value to the students, which is why the administration never so much considered removing the basketball court, but you doubt that. What kind of memories would be tied to this place aside from memories of teenage boys doing stupid-looking drives to the hoop and being horrible at ball handling?

“You play?” Chanyeol asks, breaking your train of thought.

“Are you inviting me to play or are you just asking?”

Chanyeol chuckles and softly shakes his head. Lines form beside his eyes when he laughs, you’ve noticed. It’s cute; it means he smiles so much. “I’m just asking, but I’m not assuming that you can’t play. I mean, girls can be good at basketball too.”

“Congratulations on not being ist,” you comment, which makes Chanyeol laugh. You rest your palms on the space beside either of your hips, and your pinkie briefly grazes Chanyeol’s before you adjust it slightly away. You try to ignore the odd spark that you felt when your skin brushed against him. “I play a different kind of game,” you say.

“If I didn’t know that you played volleyball, I would’ve thought that was another way of saying you’re a serial killer or something.”

“Yeah,” you say, shutting your eyes in laughter. “But I know how basketball works. My dad’s a huge Gin Kings fan, and my mom used to play back in her day. They kinda rubbed off on me.”

“That’s cool,” Chanyeol nods, but he doesn’t seem entirely convinced.

“Perhaps you’re still a bit ist, after all,” you raise your brows at him. “I understand, though. Sophomore boys have the mental capacity of a goldfish. Boys in general, actually. Wait, that might be a little insulting to goldfish as a species.”

Chanyeol raises his hands in front of him, gesturing that he doesn’t mean any offense. “I just said that it’s cool. What’s ist about that?”

“You don’t seem to be buying it.”

“Well…”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Quiz me, then,” you challenge.

And so you spend the afternoon sitting beside Chanyeol, talking about what constitutes a flagrant foul and who are currently in the Gin Kings’ roster and whatnot with the cold November breeze stinging your cheeks and turning your skin pink. The conversation goes from basketball to all sorts of things, and you realize that Chanyeol is more than just the goofy kid in class who also happens to be your seatmate.

The two of you stay even when Baekhyun and Jongdae and the other guys have finished playing, and the next thing you know, you begin to spend every afternoon with Chanyeol on the very same bench, talking about anything that can be talked about.

Most of the time you still talk about basketball, but somewhere in between you’ve learned about each other’s first loves, each other’s pet peeves, each other’s favorite horror movies. When your pinkies brush against each other, you don’t feel the need to move it away anymore, letting the spark from the contact linger in the air like a question that doesn’t need to be answered out loud.

Well, maybe not yet.

Sehun was right—this old basketball court did have sentimental value to the students. You just didn’t have any memories tied to it… until Chanyeol.

Present Day

Baekhyun returns a few minutes later with another familiar face, the last person to complete their golden trio when they were in high school.

Kim Jongdae smiles from ear to ear as he makes his way to the table where you and Chanyeol are sitting, and he doesn’t need to speak for you to know what he’s thinking about. Jongdae’s playfulness is more subtle than Baekhyun’s, but it’s there. If anything, the fact that he’s not upfront about his teasing is what makes it more effective.

“Yeol, long time no see,” Jongdae greets Chanyeol first and then nods at you. “It feels so weird being with all of you right now… It’s like I’ve time-traveled to ten years ago. What have you all been up to since high school?”

That’s the question of the night, isn’t it?

Baekhyun’s the only one you know a lot about. He and Sehun went to the same college, and their campus was practically just a stone’s throw away from yours, so that would naturally mean that you saw him around.

On the contrary, Jongdae’s been difficult to keep track of. For some weird reason, he doesn’t have any social media accounts, so you don’t know anything about him other than the fact that he went to State U. You wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already married or something without you knowing. It’s nothing personal, really—Jongdae was a good friend in high school, but some friends inevitably lose in touch with each other as they grow older and, in turn, busier. That’s just how life is.

“Hey, Dae,” you call him, “What happened to you after high school? I know about State U, but that’s about the extent of my post-high school knowledge about you.”

Baekhyun scoffs, rolling his eyes at Jongdae. “You wouldn’t believe how difficult it was to get a hold of this guy when he entered that damn university.” Jongdae starts to protest, but Baekhyun’s mouth overpowers him. “Whenever we would ask him to go out, he would say he was busy with school and . I mean, I get it, he’s always been like that ever since, but to see your best friend only, like, once every three months? I have to admit, I was offended.”

“It’s not like that, Baek—”

Chanyeol butts in even before Jongdae could finish defending himself, “And on the days he would agree to go out with us, he was always the first to go home,” he laughs. “Must’ve been boring, not having much of a life outside of school.”

Jongdae opens his mouth to say something again, but Baekhyun cuts him off again. “At least he graduated with Latin honors, didn’t he? Graduated with a 3.9, practically unheard of. Was it worth it, though? Trading your friends for the highest damn GPA of all time?”

At this point all Jongdae could do is sigh. “Yes, Baekhyun, it was worth it. Having good credentials on my résumé is better than having you two s as friends.”

You laugh at the trio’s bickering, realizing that you’ve missed witnessing this in person. It’s like the years are melting away from everyone’s faces—as if you aren’t adults in your mid to late twenties but stupid teenagers teasing each other. It’s refreshing, you must admit, how everything about this conversation feels natural, even with Chanyeol in the mix.

“What are you laughing at?” Jongdae suddenly turns his attention to you in the midst of his petty squabble with Baekhyun and Chanyeol. “You weren’t easy to get in touch with either, you know. I have no idea what happened to you after you and Chanyeol bro—”

The sound of silverware clinking against glass shushes the reception before Jongdae could finish his sentence and you couldn’t be any more thankful for it. Kyungsoo’s the one making the sound as he stands up from the bride and groom’s table, thanking everyone for being present in what could possibly be the most important day of their lives.

As you clap for Kyungsoo’s speech, you feel a pair of eyes lingering on you. Chanyeol. The smile he was sporting just seconds ago is now gone, an unreadable expression now replacing it on his lips. At first, he seems to be just looking at you, but you soon realize that his eyes are trained on your neck.

Slowly, his clapping comes to a stop and his eyes flicker to yours.You know what he was just looking at.

“And now I would like to call on one of my closest friends. He’s one of the few people that made college and life in general bearable. I don’t know where I would be without him,” Kyungsoo announces from the high table. “He arrived late, but he told me that he would make up for it by singing a song to me and my wife. Park Chanyeol, come on up here.”

The crowd’s applause snaps Chanyeol back into reality, and he tears his eyes away from the object around your neck. He makes his way onto the small stage just beside the bride and groom’s table and sits on the stool perched on the platform. A staff brings him a guitar.

He clears his throat before speaking into the mic, “Good evening, everyone. I… I haven’t played or sung this song for quite some time now, so please bear with me if I kinda .” Soft laughter fills the gazebo. “Kyungsoo practically held me at gunpoint just so I would sing this song, but I’m more than happy to sing this in front of all of you for our newly-weds. Let’s give them a big hand!”

When the claps slowly dies down, Chanyeol starts strumming on the guitar. All it takes is the first few chords for your heart to stop beating and for your mind to travel back to when you first heard Chanyeol sing this song.

December 2005

Chanyeol’s room is not at all what you initially expected. You expected it to be like your brother’s: messy and chaotic, with all sorts of stuff scattered everywhere, practically a pig-sty rather than a bedroom. Instead, you find yourself gaping at Chnayeol’s spotless room; everything is arranged neatly, from his bed to his desk. Hell, your room’s even messier than his.

“Are you sure this is your room?” You ask as you enter. “This is not how a sixteen year old boy’s room should look like.”

Chanyeol laughs as he sets his backpack on his desk chair. “Not all boys are disgusting, you know. There are boys who like to keep their room clean. Exhibit A,” he says, pointing to himself.

“He has to keep his room clean or else his sister’s gonna smack him in the head,” Baekhyun chides from behind you, carrying a large bag of barbecue-flavored potato chips in one hand and a pack of root beer in the other. “It’s not like he’s keeping it clean because he actually wants to.”

Heeyeon snorts as she takes a seat on a bean bag in the corner of the room. Baekhyun tosses her the bag of chips and she catches it without fault, ripping the bag open and popping chips into . You highly doubt that the rest of you will be left with some of it to munch on while working on your group paper.

“This is why no one likes you, Baek,” Chanyeol says. “You talk too much.”

“We like him,” Heeyeon counters, and you nod to prove her point. “But I agree with the last part.”

Baekhyun shouts triumphantly, “Ha! See? Everyone loves Byun Baekhyun.”

“Yeah, everyone but Taeyeon.”

You laugh at Chanyeol’s comment while Heeyeon chokes on the potato chips she’s chewing, and the look of genuine hurt on Baekhyun’s face makes everything a hundred times funnier. Baekhyun doesn’t say anything after that, and Chanyeol’s lips curl into a smug smile, knowing that he won this round.

“Whatever,” Baekhyun says petulantly as he sets the pack of root beer onto Chanyeol’s bed. “Door open or closed?”

Chanyeol replies, “Closed. Yoora almost fainted when I told her that two girls were spending the night here. She’d definitely kill me if she sees my door closed. You’d have to search the river for my body.”

Baekhyun shrugs and then slumps on the floor beside Heeyeon. When he brings out his PSP from his bag, you know he’ll be of no help tonight. Sometimes you still ask yourself why you’re still friends with him.

You curiously look around Chanyeol’s room and try to find the few missing puzzle pieces about him, knowing that there’s no place better to search than the room where spends most of his time and possibly grew up in.

There’s a small shelf with glass covers that houses action figures of all kinds and sizes—you recognize some from animes, some from comics, and some you don’t recognize at all. Nerd. On a part of the wall just above his study desk, the Jolly Roger of the Straw Hat Pirates from One Piece hangs proudly. Super nerd.

You giggle when you catch sight of Rilakkuma plushies on the far side of his bed, wondering how you missed them when you first entered his room. Cute. Your eyes shift to his bedside table, where a baby picture of him squatting on the ground is framed. He was a chubby kid, you notice. He’s a lot thinner now, but his ears still stick out now just as they do in the picture. Super cute.

“Snooping around someone else’s room is rude. You know that, right?”

“I’m not snooping,” you say defensively. “I was just… looking around.”

Chanyeol flops onto his bed unceremoniously. His plushies almost falls to the floor. Poor Rilakkumas. “Well, I consider that snooping. Stop looking at my stuff and judging me.”

“I’m not judging,” you laugh as you sit down on the other side of the bed. You grab your laptop from your backpack and start it up before everyone else forgets why you’re all here in Chanyeol’s house in the first place. “I just didn’t know you were a nerd. And that you’re into stuffed animals. You truly learn something new everyday.”

“You say you’re not judging but your words are so… judgy.”

“Is that a word?”

Baekhyun yawns loudly, interrupting the conversation. “If the two of you are done flirting now, can you pass me a root beer? And yes, judgy is a word.”

The atmosphere changes after that. Chanyeol wordlessly hands Baekhyun a can, his neck and ears visibly flushing redder and redder. You know that this happens to him when he’s embarrassed, anxious, or both. Is he flustered because of what Baekhyun said?

The minutes that follow are spent in awkward silence with only the sound of keyboards clicking and Baekhyun’s tapping on his game console filling the air. You steal a quick glance at Chanyeol, who’s also typing away on his laptop. He’s not flushed anymore, but his body language is still so stiff, like he’s extra cautious about his actions.

“Baek, do you have any plans to help out or is our group paper disturbing you in your very important Tekken game?” Chanyeol sarcastically asks as he suddenly jerks his head in your direction, making you jump in your seat and quickly turn your eyes away from him.

Baekhyun doesn’t take his thumbs or eyes off his game. A few overly-enthusiastic smashes on the buttons later, he says, “Yeah, yeah. What can I do?”

“You can stop playing with that damn thing, for a start,” you say. “We need more references. Try T&F and Sage and see what you can find. And wake Heeyeon up.”

“Yes ma’am,” Baekhyun replies and finally puts away his game console. He shakes Heeyeon awake from her short-lived nap on Chanyeol’s bean bag, and the two of them begin to work on your group paper that they should have been helping with in the first place.

At around 11 p.m., the only thing left to do with the paper is to proofread it, and proofreading is assigned to you. You let the others do whatever they want for the rest of the night: Heeyeon falls asleep in a blink of an eye, Baekhyun returns to his game but follows Heeyeon’s steps not long after, and Chanyeol is softly playing his guitar.

“You’re quiet,” Chanyeol says when he notices you looking at him.

You shrug. “I’m always quiet when I’m busy doing something.”

Chanyeol doesn’t take his eyes and fingers off of the guitar. You know that he’s an amazing guitarist, but right now he’s playing sloppily, just barely making an effort to actually hold the chords down on the guitar’s neck. You recognize the tune, though.

“No you aren’t,” he says after a while. His eyes flicker to yours briefly, and the look in them tells you that something’s bothering him. “You talk from time to time even when you’re busy with something, but you’ve been quiet for most of the night. It feels weird.”

“Well…” You begin to say, scratching at the back of your neck while you choose your words. “Well, you’ve been quiet for most of the night, too,” you counter. Defense is the best offense.

Chanyeol sighs and stops strumming his guitar for a second. “I was just thinking… about… you know, what Baekhyun said earlier.”

Your heart catches fire at that, but you try your best to keep a straight face and look indifferent. “Which one? Baekhyun says a lot of things. It’s hard to keep track of what comes out of his mouth.”

Chanyeol looks over your shoulder to where Baekhyun and Heeyeon are sleeping. You and Heeyeon are supposed to take the bed, but since she’s already comfortable on the bean bag, perhaps it’s not a good idea to wake her. She gets really cranky when her sleep gets interrupted.

Meanwhile, Baekhyun is drooling on Chanyeol’s carpet. He’s lying stomach-down on the floor without even bothering to set up the comforters Chanyeol prepared for the two of them.

“Say what you want to say,” you tell Chanyeol when you realize that he’s checking whether Baekhyun and Heeyeon are awake. “Those two aren’t gonna wake up any time soon. They’re sleeping like logs. Their snores are even louder than your guitar.”

Chanyeol nods, but resumes softly playing his guitar for good measure. The tips of his ears are burning red, you notice, and his strumming becomes more and more careless by each second.

His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows thickly. “I know we haven’t known each other for a long time,” he begins shakily, “but I’ve been thinking…” He trails off again. “God, why is this so hard?”

“We’ve known each other for a while now, actually. Since freshman year,” you point out, chuckling. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“I knew that,” Chanyeol pouts. “What I mean is that we’ve only been, like, friends recently… A-and… ,” he gives up. He reaches for something behind him, a small velvet jewelry box that looks so tiny compared to his large hands.

His fingers tremble, and when your hand brushes against him when you take the box away from him, his skin is cold.

You gingerly snap open the box, and a silver necklace rests inside. The charm glistens even in the dim lighting of Chanyeol’s room—a star embedded with small crystals. A warmth spreads across your chest and settles in the pit of your stomach. You softly trace the charm with the tip of your index finger as you wonder how something so small and simple could be so beautiful.

“I was supposed to give that to you on your birthday,” Chanyeol says. He’s still strumming away on his guitar. He continues, “But I didn’t know how to. I was overthinking the whole thing, like what should I say, what should I do. Should I act cool? What should I tell her? I was so scared.”

You smile, “It’s just a gift, Chanyeol.”

“But that’s the thing. It’s not just a gift. It’s not just a necklace.”

“Then what is it?”

Chanyeol exhales deeply and stops playing, setting the guitar on his lap. “I like you,” he blurts out. “As in, you know. That kind of like. Jesus, this is embarrassing. You’re gonna think that I’m crazy for liking you way too soon and now you’re gonna get mad and everything’s gonna be awkward and I’m gonna beat myself up for—”

“You’re rambling,” you say.

He covers his face with his palms and shakes his head. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. It’s okay if you hate me now or something but please—”

“I like you too,” you admit, cutting his rambling once again. “I thought it would be obvious by now.”

Chanyeol blinks rapidly. “What did you just say?”

Laughing, you shut down your laptop and place it back inside your backpack. “You have the biggest ears in this world, I think you heard me just fine,” you say. “Thank you for your late birthday present, Chanyeol. It’s beautiful. I’ll wear it everyday.”

You lay down on the bed and roll over to your side so that your back is now facing Chanyeol. You whisper good night, but really, you just don’t want him to see you smiling like a fool. You’re definitely not sleeping tonight.

But your consciousness drifts off eventually while Chanyeol plays on his guitar some more. The melody and his singing are barely audible by how soft he’s playing, but you recognize the song anyway.

“‘Cause it’s you and me
And all of the people with nothing to do
Nothing to lose
And it’s you and me
And all the other people
And I don’t know why
I can’t keep my eyes off of you…”

The last thing that you hear before sleep wins you over is Chanyeol giddily whispering, “She likes me too.”

Present Day

Chanyeol doesn’t take his eyes off of you throughout the whole song.

Your stomach churns as he sings while looking directly at you, and no matter how many times you avert your gaze, his eyes are still locked on you when yours travel back to him. And because of that, you know that he knows what this song means to either of you, something that you thought he would’ve forgotten.

You slowly get up from your seat and quietly make your way out of the reception. Baekhyun asks what’s wrong with a worried tone, but you assure him that you just need fresh air. He lets you go after that, though his frown doesn’t leave his lips.

For some reason, the sea breeze is colder and harsher outside of the open pavillion. You shiver as a strong gust of wind blows by, crossing your arms across your chest and rubbing your palms against your skin in an attempt to feel warmer through the friction.

You look up at the night sky once you reach the smoking area a short walk away from the reception. The moon is bright and full as it hangs low in the heavens with a myriad of stars surrounding it. You can’t remember the last time you saw the night sky like this because the lights in the city drown everything else out.

It’s beautiful, but at the same time you can’t help but feel a pang in your chest because the twinkling stars remind you of the necklace Chanyeol gave you, the one that started everything, the one you’re wearing now, the one that Chanyeol saw before he went onstage and sang that damn song. It suddenly feels like a hundred tons on your neck.

You said you’d wear it everyday, and you kept your promise. You always keep your promises, no matter when and to whom you made them.

Perhaps you should’ve left it at home and wore something else just this once, but you always had a hard time breaking habits. The silver necklace has been part of your day-to-day life for nearly three years, and it’s never easy to let go of something that has been with you for that long. Just like how hard it was to let go of Chanyeol.

But wearing the necklace really is more out of habit than of sentimentality. Sure, for the first few years after the breakup it was more of the latter, but as time went by you realized that it has become muscle memory—something your body has gotten used to, that’s it.

Come to think of it, you never really associate it with Chanyeol anymore when you wear it. It is what it is: just something that was given to you as a gift. But the look on Chanyeol’s face when he saw it around your neck earlier changes everything; it brings back all the questions that are still yet to be given an answer for all these years. It brings back everything.

You fish for your cigarette pack in your clutch bag and light yourself a stick, letting all your frustrations out together with the smoke. Instantly, you feel somewhat warmer. Smoking is another habit—a terrible one, at that—that you also have a hard time breaking away from.

Footsteps fill the still air when you’re halfway through your first cigarette. You look to where the sound is coming from and see Baekhyun walking towards you, his hands inside his pockets.

“I don’t think cigarette smoke counts as fresh air,” he says.

You take a long drag before replying, blowing the smoke away from where Baekhyun is standing because you know he doesn’t like the smell even if he never says anything about it. “You see, Baek, when people say they need fresh air, they mean they want to be alone.”

“I know,” Baekhyun shrugs, kicking at the sand underneath his feet. “I also know that wasn’t what you meant. I think you need someone to talk to.”

“I don’t have anything to talk about with you.”

Baekhyun laughs, but it sounds different. Empty. “I wasn’t talking about myself,” he clarifies. He looks at you before looking upward at the sky, and you catch an odd sadness swimming in his eyes. “You should talk to Chanyeol.”

Your cigarette is almost burned out, just enough for one more puff. You inhale the remains and toss the at the receptacle once you’re finished. “We don’t have anything to talk about either,” you say, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

“That’s bull,” Baekhyun says, and you’re taken aback by his choice of words. “I think the two of you have plenty to talk about.”

The cold creeps back into your bones at Baekhyun’s last sentence, because you know deep in your heart that it’s true. You shiver, and Baekhyun must’ve seen it because he wordlessly takes off his coat and wraps it around your shoulders.

“I don’t know what to say to him,” you admit, wrapping the coat tighter around your body. “What happened between the two of us… That happened so long ago. I’m not sure if any of that matters anymore.”

“It matters,” Baekhyun assures. “I can see it in Chanyeol’s eyes. I think he has a lot to say, but he’s not sure how to get there and how to say it. Maybe he’s not sure either whether any of it is worth talking about anymore, but I don’t think he’d be staring at you while singing if none of it matters anymore to him.”

Your hands instinctively fly up to the charm hanging on your neck, your fingers brushing against the studded star.

Baekhyun’s eyes notice your movement. Smiling, he says, “I don’t know the story behind that necklace and that old song he was singing, but I’m pretty sure that it has something to do with the two of you. Both of you wouldn’t be so weird about it if it didn’t matter, so I think that’s a good enough sign that the two of you should talk it over.”

“I thought Chanyeol told you everything.”

“He did, for most things,” Baekhyun nods, “but he didn’t say much about your relationship, even after you broke up. I thought that was a pretty cool thing for him to do, keeping whatever happened between just the two of you. I think he didn’t want any of us to take sides, knowing that you’re friends with us too, so he said nothing.”

Tonight’s the first time you’ve heard about that. You always assumed Baekhyun and Jongdae knew what had happened since they’re Chanyeol’s closest friends. In your case, Sehun’s always the first to know everything.

But then again, Chanyeol has always been a very private person. He shows his emotions well, but he never talks about them outright.

“He really told you nothing? About us?”

Baekhyun shakes his head. “I didn’t even know it until months later,” he says. “I asked him about you, and all he said was that you weren’t together anymore. A few weeks later I saw him posting about some other girl online. I didn’t want to ask, but Jongdae brought it up while we were having coffee one time and Chanyeol told us about her.”

Your chest tightens because you remember the day you saw that post so vividly. You were eating lunch with Sehun when he suddenly froze while scrolling on his phone. Eyes wide, he silently handed you his phone and tears began to fall from your eyes the moment they landed on the photo of Chanyeol with his arms around a girl, captioned with nothing but a heart. Sehun had to take you home and skip the rest of his classes because you were so out of it. It was one of the worst days of your life.

“Why didn’t you want to ask more about it?”

Baekhyun answers without hesitation, “Because I knew that whatever Chanyeol says, I’ll be pissed about it. So I never asked how the two of you broke up, how he met Chaeyoung, all that.”

You reach for another cigarette from your pack. Hearing that name—Chaeyoung—still sends your stomach roiling, and it will probably stay that way forever.

“I thought you’d understand Chanyeol, no matter what he said,” you say after lighting the stick. A stray ember of the cigarette ash falls on your arm and scalds you before dying out as soon as it touches your skin. “He’s your best friend.”

“That’s true,” Baekhyun says. “But we don’t always agree with or understand our best friends, do we? Besides, I didn’t want to take sides either. But I have to admit, Chanyeol being with Chaeyoung in just a short time after the two of you broke didn’t look good at all. I bet Sehun hates him.”

“He did,” you say, nodding as you laugh. “For quite some time. When I moved on, I guess he did too.”

“Have you really moved on, though? Do you think Chanyeol has moved on?”

Before you could say anything, a tall figure emerges from the path where Baekhyun came from. You can recognize those ears anywhere.

“Am I… interrupting something?” He asks.

Baekhyun laughs, shaking his head. “Nope. She’s all yours. I’ll head back to the reception now. The two of you can continue catching up.”

“Baek, wait,” you call out as Baekhyun begins walking back to the pavillion. He stops in his tracks and turns around. “Your coat.”

“You can return that to me tomorrow morning,” he replies. “I have a feeling that you’re still gonna need that. Tonight’s gonna be a long night.”