A woman of Baekhyun’s acquaintance once wrote a book called “The Beauty of Loneliness”, describing her two weeks long “journey” she took in a beautiful and expensive resort hotel in Greece. 

In the book, she bragged, endlessly, relentlessly, shamelessly, about having ZERO connection with people. Of course, that didn’t count the driver who took her to the hotel, the bellboy who took her luggage up to her room (she didn’t tip him, because, once again, it is vital you understand this, she had to have no connection with people, she was on a self-discovering journey. Otherwise, of course, she would have tipped him, she wasn’t a barbarian, duh), and the receptionist who handled her check-in, who, as far as the author was concerned, was extremely slow and hadn’t mastered enough English to “drop her horrible accent”, which made it extremely hard for the author, who was on a journey to discover herself by isolating herself, bravely, mind you, to understand the said receptionist. All these people didn’t count because they were a driver and a bellboy and a receptionist. 

It must have been all very funny and a good laugh for their families when they told them about a pretty Korean girl coming into their hotel and refusing to say a single word, right? Sure, it got them running around, but they will now understand! She must remind herself to send them copies of her book. Imagine the surprise! The clarity, at last! They were famous now! Maybe not as much as her, not really famous like she was, but still! 

 

She was braving the world all on her own, armed only with ton of cash, suitcases full of clothes (as she would be unable, constricted by her own challenge and its rules, to go out and buy new ones — oh the horror, horror ... ) and the credit cards that her parents still paid for, as she was the darling baby daughter of one the wealthiest families in not just South Korea, but of all Asia, at least. 

 

The book had extensive, needless, boring, stupid details about everything she ate and drank on her journey. As she was not to have any sort of connection with another human being, she had to have her meals delivered directly to her room. She didn’t make any kind of eye contact with the person who brought her food, nor thanked them. The instructions, “her plea”, were clear: Bring in the food, close the door. There would be no need for “connection”. It was so hard for her. But she was on a journey, having a moment of her own, please. 

 

Pained by not being able to meet her friends, go on a date with her boyfriend, attend a concert by the latest hottest idol group, buy a house, or cuddle with her dog, she admitted to being “messier than usual” and “not having an ounce of will or energy” to pick up a single clothing, even her dirty underwear. Because she was moody and depressed and anxious and lost and tired and in actual physical pain. She wondered, all alone in her suite room, if someone would ever understand how she felt. 

 

As her housekeeper came to clean her room everyday — sometimes this took a whole two hours — she sat in a corner on her own and pretended that the housekeeper didn’t exist. It was all very hard for her. It was essential, she had written, because if she spoke to the housekeeper, if she had even uttered a single word, then the whole point of her self-discovering journey would have been “ruined beyond repair”. No, she had to be strong and do this for herself. 

 

The hardest of them all, staying away from social media. She spent most of her days browsing through her friends’ profiles, desperately clinging onto them. She was not allowed to post anything, — depriving her followers ( up to +300,000 of them!) from the glamorous life she led — she was not allowed to call anyone, she was not even allowed to like a picture of the hottest member of the latest hottest idol group. No, she had ceased to exist for those two weeks. She had, on her own, taken a huge leap of faith for the sacred journey of self-discovery.

 

Obviously, she must have discovered herself to be a at the end of the “journey”, Baekhyun thought, grimacing at the “book” he was holding. She had needed to only look in the mirror to “discover” that . 

 

Baekhyun threw the book unceremoniously into a box next to him. The great Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoyevsky’’s Crime and Punishment was the next book in his hands. 

 

Two days ago, Baekhyun picked up a book called the life-changing magic of tidying up. The Japanese art of decluttering and organizing by Marie Kondo (or, Kondo Marie). Fueled with the energy to clean up and encouraged by the easy, flowing writing, Baekhyun finished the book in one-sitting. Afterwards, he had decided that he was the perfect candidate to try out Marie Kondo’s method of getting one’s together: he lived alone, he was single and he had enough money to make these changes without worry or most-likely-to-come repercussions. 

 

He had tackled his clothes (was not difficult) and was now on his books. Of course, the great masterpiece sparked a joy in him (an immense one) so Baekhyun gently put the book onto his ‘keep’ pile. He was actually looking forward to putting all the books back into his bookshelves, in a whole new order. 

 

It was astonishing to find books he didn’t even know he had them. Being a bestseller writer had earned him few people worthy of knowing, a crap ton of leeches, and a very needless post box filled with gifts from strangers. Of course, all the books his publishing house published were sent to him, signed by the authors. Most of them were a pleasure to read and keep, some not really his cup of tea, and few that made him want to throw the damn thing into the “author”’s face and yell at them for lowering the class and dignity of being a writer. Like, the “book” he had just previously discarded.

 

He had no idea just how much stuff he had accumulated over the years. He was fully content in focusing on the things he liked, having an unhealthy amount of cups of coffee a day, writing his book, and enjoy being a twenty-something healthy young man in Seoul, who could actually afford to live there without the years of anxiety over ever actually having a place of his own. 

 

As you do, when faced with a problem, in Baekhyun’s case: a writer’s block, Baekhyun decided to ignore it and procrastinate his off. And that’s where Marie entered. He was doing a productive procrastination, thank you very much, so shut up. 

 

The whole set of Harry Potter went to the ‘keep’ pile. Truth be told, Baekhyun had found the first book to be very dry and slow when he last read it few months ago, but he still liked the book, maybe it didn’t spark joy in him as much as it did when he was twelve, but it wasn’t supposed to, Baekhyun mused to himself. He was a grown man now, the book was for kids; J.K Rowling had been an amateur, who improved with every single book thereafter, mind you. 

 

A book about an anatomy of murder, suggested by the title, was also put in the box. Baekhyun didn’t remember when and how he got the book, and if he didn’t read it for all the years it stood on his shelf, then it was not likely of him to ever read it. He thanked it silently for letting him know that. It was kind of cute to thank the things he was throwing away. 

 

Little Women, he kept, of course. A battered old copy of The Devil Wears Prada , definitely to be kept. Most of the classics were put into the ‘keep’ pile. Baekhyun found an old birthday card from his mother, in between the pages of Coraline , and felt like he was getting rewarded for his efforts. 

 

All the self-improving books were put into a box (all were gifts; Baekhyun never saw the appeal in being told what to do, especially if that person was wasting the first hour of their talk by saying what everyone knew, in a tone that suggested they were the first person to ever have those thoughts). Books he never read, Twilight series, Fifty Shades of Grey series, books he didn’t know he had were all, by the rule, were met with whispered thank you and sorry. 

 

After nearly three hours, Baekhyun had gone through all the books he owned. He had about sixty books to throw away, neatly put into 4 medium sized boxes. Then Baekhyun moved his bookshelves, vacuumed the dirt and dust that was revealed, washed the floor and put the shelves back. He wiped his bookshelves and started to put his books back. Maybe Marie was onto something, Baekhyun thought, as he looked at his copy of Good Omens fondly. He was definitely feeling good about how every single book he touched had made him feel something. 

 

When he was done, Baekhyun washed his hands, splattered his face with ice-cold water, which made him feel like he was reborn. He intended to make himself a nice cup of tea or coffee, but decided he wanted something cool and fuzzy. So, beer it was.

 

Baekhyun turned his favorite armchair so it was facing the wall that housed his bookshelves. If he turned to his left, he could still see the city through his window, which was where his armchair was usually placed to face. It was awesome to sit there, drinking his cold beer and watch what he had accomplished. He recognized every single book now. 

 

He turned his head to his left and watched the evening sky for a while. It was orange and red and blue and pink, promising a warm day the next day. The river was glimmering under the sunlight, it looked so pretty, as if excited for the arrival of spring, like the countless people who were walking down there. There were so many. So many people, who had their own lives, thoughts, dreams, pasts, futures … All somehow together at the same spot by the river. Maybe they were going home after a long day, maybe they were jogging, maybe they were taking their dogs out for a walk, maybe they were there on a date, maybe they decided to have their dinner outside … and maybe, whatever it was, it was wonderful. 

 

His phone was ringing somewhere. Baekhyun stirred in his sleep and wished it would stop ringing and leave him alone. It did. But then, after two seconds, it started ringing again. 

 

er .

 

Scowling to himself, Baekhyun got up from his chair and made his way to the kitchen. His phone sounded particularly loud in the silence of the night, and looked eerie in a dark room. Baekhyun quickly the light and picked up his phone.

 

“Kyungsoo?”

 

“Yeah, are you okay?”

 

“Of course, I am. Why? What happened now?”

 

Kyungsoo sighed. “It’s getting serious — more serious — did you know all schools and universities are shut down? We’re cancelling all the meetings for the next month.  Everyone will work from home, for a month, at least for now. Don’t go out. Do you have food?”

 

Baekhyun, affronted, assaulted and offended, scoffed. Rolled his eyes and cocked his hips, even though Kyungsoo couldn’t see him, and then deflated just as quickly when he looked around his empty kitchen and realized he had pretty much nothing to eat. He wouldn’t survive the weekend, let alone a whole month. 

 

“I thought so,” Kyungsoo muttered. He cursed and then said, “I’m going to pick up some stuff for you, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Baekhyun mumbled. 

 

He should have been, of course, prepared for this. He was living in one of the most convenient cities in the world and he had all the money he needed. He shouldn’t need Kyungsoo, his editor, to babysit him in the middle of a plague, of all things, for ’s sake.

 

Oh well .

 

Baekhyun came back to his living room and picked up his beer. He hadn’t finished more than half of it before falling asleep, but it was lukewarm and disgusting now, so Baekhyun poured it into the sink, washed the can and threw it into his recycling bin.

 

Knowing Kyungsoo will try to cook him something — “actual food” he would call them — and not wanting to tire out Kyungsoo more than he already did, Baekhyun quickly ate up a cup of instant noodles. He opened the kitchen window, hoping the smell of his shame would get aired out.

 

Kyungsoo came to his home armed with bags and bags of food. Baekhyun gaped at him, he was hauling them in and in and in, and there were still more to come. 

 

“Do I really need that much?”

 

“Yes, and more,” Kyungsoo replied. He put all the bags in the entrance and shook his head when Baekhyun offered his hands to get them inside.

 

“Don’t touch them without a glove,” Kyungsoo said. He took off his shoes and took off the rubber gloves he was wearing. “I gotta throw these out first, and then put on new ones and help you sort the bags,”

 

Baekhyun followed him into the kitchen. Kyungsoo threw the gloves away, pulled out a small bottle of hand sanitizer from the inside pocket of his jacket and cleaned his hands. Then he went to the sink to wash his hands (Baekhyun had a bottle of hand soap by his kitchen sink, since Kyungsoo insisted he needed one there when his hands got dirty while cooking). 

 

“Yes, I’m a little bit paranoid,” Kyungsoo said, catching the look on Baekhyun’s face. “But it’s better than being neglectful. Now, we’ll put on gloves and take all the bags I brought, to your second kitchen. That room is meant to be used as a storage anyway. I bought all the essentials I could think of, but I’m going to place an order for you, it will be delivered. Don’t open the door to greet the carrier, stick a tip on your door, if you want, with a note to thank them, but don’t contact anyone, understand?” 

 

“Yes, Daddy,” Baekhyun said and immediately crutched down to dodge the kitchen towel Kyungsoo threw at him.

 

Still laughing hysterically, Baekhyun wiped the tear from the corner of his eye as Kyungsoo clicked his tongue in disapproval. 

 

“You need to see someone about that,” Kyungsoo said. “After this whole thing is finished, of course. But who though? We need someone competent, distant but warm enough to connect with you. Minseok hyung’s therapist maybe? But then again, probably not … not your style. Come,” he added to Baekhyun. “Let’s start,”

 

“I only do it to annoy you.”

 

Kyungsoo snorted in disbelief. “Yeah yeah, but still … wouldn’t hurt to see someone.”

 

Baekhyun ignored that. “Let’s start? What do you mean ‘let’s start’?” he asked instead. “We’re just gonna place some stuff,”

 

“We gotta sort them out,” Kyungsoo replied. “You can’t just use them right away now. Apparently the virus can live up to 3 days on plastics. So we’re gonna keep them away for 4 days, just to be absolutely sure. It’s important that we be absolutely sure, understand?”

 

Kyungsoo pulled out new gloves for them from his messenger bag and they started working. They took all the bags into his second kitchen, careful not to let them touch any other surfaces on the way. Baekhyun thought maybe Kyungsoo was being a little bit too paranoid — what were the chances of the sides of his grocery bags being infected? — but knew it was better to shut up and do as instructed. 

 

There was so much stuff.

 

• Pack of toilet papers (36 rolls)

 

• Two tubes of toothpaste (Baekhyun’s usual. He was touched to see Kyungsoo knew which toothpaste he used)

 

• A pack of two spare toothbrush heads

 

• Two bottles of shampoo and conditioner, each

 

• Six bars of soap (Liquid soap is wasteful, Kyungsoo had reasoned. Besides, these feel like they clean better)

 

• 5 kg of flour (“What, you want me to bake?” Baekhyun asked, scandalised.)

 

• 30 eggs (“Too much. They’ll rot.”)

 

• 3 lt of cooking oil (“I see, you want to give me a heart attack. Why though? I benefit you better alive,”) and 1 lt of olive oil (extra )

 

• 4 cartons of normal milk, 2 cartons of almond milk

 

• Some tomato, green and red pepper, potato, onion, garlic, apple, tangerine, blueberries, banana, raspberries, kiwi, spinach, cabbage, cauliflower …

 

• Kimchi (3 different kinds), 10 cans of SPAM, 5 cans tuna, packs and packs of seaweed …

 

• 10 kg of white rice (No rice, no life)

 

• Four bottles of 1 lt of cola zero, 4 cans of energy drink, 4 packs of his favorite tea, 6 bottles of his favorite aloe juice, 36 packs of his favorite instant coffee, 12 packs of beer, six bottles of wine (all different)

 

• 8 packs of different pasta types

 

• Mayo, ketchup, pepper and tomato sauce, soy sauce (light, less salt) ...

 

• A box of his favorite chocolate ( 24 bars inside)

 

• ton of different snacks: jellies, chips, cookies, cakes, ice cream, crackers …

 

• ton of different kinds of ramyeon

 

• 20 lt of water (4 bottles of 5 lt)

 

• Ground beef, chicken , whole chicken, chicken wings ...

 

Why the he would need this much? How the will he consume this much? 

 

And they set off to work, which just means Kyungsoo did most of the done while Baekhyun did bits here and there.

 

Kyungsoo ripped the packages off and put his meats into new bags, in appropriate proportions. They also put all the vegetables and fruits into an empty kimchi container, poured some water and vinegar, let it soak for a bit and washed them. It took a long time to dry them, chop them, put them into a freezing-bag or a glass-container and place them inside the fridge. Everything else was put into a corner, not to be touched for 4 days. Even then, Baekhyun was told to wipe the packages. 

 

It was, unexpectedly, calming and Baekhyun found himself even enjoying the process. He liked the sound of water running and the way Kyungsoo made sure to thoroughly wash the lettuce. The swoosh and the swish and the drop drop drop and the rustling and the hustling and the bustling and the chopping and the dicing and the slicing — Baekhyun felt like he was in one of master Miyazaki’s movies. 

 

Kyungsoo wore a little white apron (his own, left in Baekhyun’s place since he cooked there every so often) that had a picture of a penguin and a polar bear playing hockey, and Baekhyun wore a pastel yellow one with Snoopy wearing a chef’s hat and holding a frying pan. They had been gifts from Chanyeol, Baekhyun’s old high school friend. 

 

“When were you gonna tell me?” Baekhyun said calmly, rinsing the tomatoes one by one. 

 

Kyungsoo was putting away the “dirty” bags. “Tell you what?”

 

“That we’re married.”

 

“What nonsense are you spewing now?” Kyungoo said, sounding very very tired.

 

“Come on, look at us!” Baekhyun gestured at himself and twirled around. “Getting ready for the dark times together. All domestic and cuddly and . If only there was a baby napping in the next room along with our dog —”

 

“Shut up and get to work already!” Kyungsoo swung a fist in the air, which just looked adorable, and not at all threatening. 

 

“Feisty,” Baekhyun whistled. “I like it,”

 

After two whole hours, they were finally wrapping it up. Again, Kyungsoo had done most of the job. 

 

“What’s this?” Baekhyun asked, pointing at the small package wrapped in a paper bag. He hadn’t noticed it before.

 

“A gift,” Kyungsoo said. “Open it,”

 

“Is it safe to touch?”

 

“Yeah. I got it for you three days ago, and they said the virus survives for up to 24 hours on paper. Throw your gloves away — you don’t need them anymore. Wash your hands and you can open it,”

 

“You really shouldn’t have,” Baekhyun said, winking at Kyungsoo dramatically. He happily threw away the gloves and went to wash his hands.

 

“This is a pot,” Baekhyun said, disappointed. “With dirt in it”

 

“It’s a plant, you dip, and you know it,”

 

The small pot was obscenely orange and had, as Kyungsoo said, a plant in it. The leaves were thicker than usual and had a simple shape. There were a bunch of tiny buds on the top, which were sure to bloom into hideous and smelly flowers. 

 

“ Thaaaaanks ,” Baekhyun singsonged. “I hate it,”

 

“You’re welcome. Just water it whenever you feel the soil is dry and wipe the leaves for dust, otherwise it may get tiny bugs,”

 

Baekhyun was disgusted. He could just see hundreds of filthy little things crawling around his home, getting into his food and marching into his nostrils as he slept …

 

“I’ll burn it the moment you leave, or you can take it away now.”

 

“Yeah uh-huh,” 

 

Kyungsoo wasn’t even looking at him, he was busy typing on his phone, a faint scowl on his face. “I gotta go now. My mom is going ballistic, telling me to come home, like I’m a student or something. She reckons cities are more dangerous, which is, to be fair, true. Now she’s demanding that I video-call her everyday, and prove that I’m not going out,”

 

“Don’t you call her everyday anyway?” 

 

“I do, just a call though. Good old voice call.” Kyungsoo said, rubbing the bridge of his nose under his glasses. 

 

“You should go,” Baekhyun said, patting Kyungsoo on the shoulder. “Thanks for everything, I’ll do it properly from now on. Sorry that you had to come over — I got a bit too carried away with this chapter.”

 

“Speaking of,” Kyungsoo looked up. “send me a copy when you feel like it?”

 

“The moment I’m ready,” 

 

Kyungsoo nodded. “What are those?” he asked, noticing the boxes on the floor. 

 

“Ah, yeah. I’m doing some major clean up. These are the books I’m throwing away,”

 

“That’s good, that’s good — stay productive and all that .” Kyungsoo peered into boxes and snickered. “Didn’t enjoy her amazing self-discoveries?”

 

“If you guys publish one more dirt like that, I’m breaking my contract with you.”

 

“Well, we had to,” Kyungsoo said, looking at the “book” with some special disgust he reserved for Chanyeol. “It was money-magnet and it wasn’t even under my imprint, the only reason I get to sleep during the night, thank heavens.”

 

“I wanna get rid of it now,” Baekhyun said. He heaved up one of the boxes. “Let’s go out together.”

 

“Might as well,” Kyungsoo said, picking up a box of his own. “Put on a mask and gloves. Don’t touch anything outside with bare hands.”

 

“Yes, Da —”

 

“Don’t you dare! I will kick you, Baekhyun!”

 

Baekhyun cackled loudly and quickly waddled his way to the entrance.

The air was chilly and windy when Baekhyun and Kyungsoo went outside, but it smelled fresh. It instantly cheered Baekhyun up, as he was cooped up inside all day, working around like a hamster. 

They put the boxes in the recycle-corner and took a moment to stay outside before heading in (Kyungsoo had parked in the underground parking lot). Baekhyun whipped his head around before locating the moon, it was almost full. Not many stars could be seen, just one or two here and there. Such a shame, Baekhyun thought. 

“Text me when you get home,” Baekhyun said, as he stepped into the elevator. 

Kyungsoo nodded. “Don’t go out,” he said again. “And wash the entrance well, who knows what I stepped on on my way here. Order everything and stay the home. I’ll call you,”

“Bye! I love you!”