They say good things come in threes but they never say what happens afterwards. It just so happens that a fair amount of good things had been happening recently. Junmyeon had spoken to Yixing on the phone so long the other night, the two of them staying on the line while doing mundane things like folding laundry until his friend’s soft snores could be heard on the other end just past midnight. That was a good thing. He’d also finished all the footage of the ballets he’d taken part in that Joohyun had sent him just last night, a therapy goal reached. Best of all, both Li Yin and Hyejin came home from the hospital with no complications and Jongdae was adjusting to his new life spectacularly. Who could ask for more? When confessing such thoughts to Baekhyun it was suggested that just for fun he wrote down all the good things that were coming to pass in recent weeks from the subtle to the extraordinary. It just so happened that a new grouping of three on his list began on the third Sunday of May.   

The heavy doors to the sanctuary closed slowly and silently behind him, the entry hallway of the church quiet and empty in contrast to all the people moving around and chatting further inside. Junmyeon sat on one of the benches here, the wood beneath dark red velvet creaking with age. It was dimly lit here and he found it peaceful.

It didn’t take long for Yixing to poke his head out after him, the dancer looking comfortably out of place in his matching maroon pants, fedora, and suspenders strapped over a collarless and pleated ivory shirt. It was a classy and muted kind of flamboyance all things considered, the kind where you wouldn’t be surprised if he suddenly started doing magic tricks or dancing like Michael Jackson. Yixing could actually do the latter. Junmyeon had seen it himself. 

Junmyeon’s suit was one his parents had bought him upon getting hired at the ballet, your typical black and white ensemble untailored right off the rack. There had actually been several times he'd had to wear it. If anyone at the ballet noticed he only owned one suit, they never pointed it out. As it was, he was considerably thinner now than he’d been back then. At the moment getting back to a healthy weight was one of his goals but he was no longer as visibly gaunt like he was over the winter or really over the past few years. Regardless, he never would’ve guessed the christening for Jongdae’s daughter would be the most high profile context in which he'd adorn his suit and tie.

“Taking a break?” Yixing asked from a certain distance away, probably overly cognisant of making Junmyeon feel too crowded in. 

“Something like that,” Junmyeon said, gesturing that it was alright for Yixing to sit down beside him. If he were going to experience a powerful bout of anxiety, it would’ve happened in the room full of crowded church pews. All things considered, he’d handled the service and ceremony pretty well. Taking a few moments for himself out here was more or less just a precautionary courtesy. "I suppose it’s more like… when Jongdae said he was 'kind of a big deal,’ it didn’t really register with me what that meant.”

Never had he heard of a christening being such an event but the congregation was full today mostly with people who probably hadn’t set foot inside a church in years if ever. Many seemed to be from Jongdae’s company or business contacts of varying degrees. There were people from their home neighborhood as well who seemed just as surprised as Junmyeon had been. Li Yin’s contacts were nothing to scoff at either. Together they had people coming in from Busan, Seoul, Ulsan, Chengdu, and Shanghai. It had taken all of his nerves to stand in front of that large crowd even if the ceremony had little to nothing to do with him specifically, all eyes on the couple and baby Hyejin. Jongdae navigated the crowd like a natural afterwards and it didn’t take long for Junmyeon to excuse himself from his friend’s side to retreat here.

“These white collar business types are a different breed,” Yixing said. “I’ll bet you anything each and every one of them has a list of ulterior motives for being here. But you’re right. I never knew Jongdae had done so well for himself. He seems too nice for this sort of thing.” 

“He has a mean side if you push him enough,” Junmyeon assured him. “He played a small but pivotal role in helping an investigative task force put my ex boyfriend in prison.” Junmyeon ly slightly, just enough to see Yixing staring at him in genuine surprise and disbelief. “I can’t tell if that expression is about the prison thing or the ex boyfriend thing,” he said with a laugh that he hoped didn’t seem too unnatural. Despite all the time they’d been spending together, he had yet to tell Yixing anything about Taecyeon, his stories of those years in Seoul abbreviated to say the least. 

“I swear, all you Daegu people are full of stories,” Yixing said, taking off his hat and fanning himself. It was as humorous a response as any, one that neither prodded Junmyeon for more information or put into too many words the surprise that someone like him would have anything close to a relationship history. Yixing’s posture did adjust though and his lower lip was now clenched between his teeth in thought. Junmyeon shrugged. 

“It’s all in the past. I’m much happier now. I'll tell you about it sometime.”

Fifteen minutes later the two of them did eventually make their way to the reception where the aforementioned ulterior motives were seemingly playing out. Jongdae now had a formal line of people coming up to speak to him, exchanging business cards and rocking Hyejin in her stroller at the same time until Li Yin took her away. Jongdae seemed more bothered about being separated than the baby did who had managed to be on her best behavior all morning.

“I see them over here,” Yixing said as they continued wandering through the tables on the edge of the room. 

Just as previously planned, Baekhyun and his wife had saved a table for them way off in the corner. It was Junmyeon’s first time seeing his therapist outside of an appointment. It was his first time meeting Taeyeon as well who was apparently a neurosurgeon. Baekhyun had no doubt seen Junmyeon excuse himself from the migrating crowd earlier, a decent amount of whom looked curiously upon the man Jongdae held in such high esteem. They'd be sorely disappointed if they really knew.

"Baekhyun took the liberty to pile plates for you two with all available food offerings," Taeyeon said, looking at Baekhyun with both disgust and fondness. "I tried to stop him."

"Junmyeon will appreciate it. He's a class act," Baekhyun responded still with food in his mouth. But soon enough it was Junmyeon in Taeyeon's position as Yixing asked question after question about the couple, forgetting to chew.

"That's amazing! So the two of you combined must know everything about the human mind!"

"If only that were true. Humans are complicated. Baekhyun and I each have opportunities to learn new things each day," she said.

"Well I'm forever grateful you were able to fix me," Junmyeon said, only regretting it at the brief silence that followed. "I mean, I still have a long way to go but… yeah." And there it was, his cheeks heating up. He should've let Yixing continue to carry the conversation. He was good at that.

"Nonsense," Baekhyun said with sudden sincerity. "All I do is point people in hopefully the best general direction. Everything else was all you, Junmyeon. You should be proud of yourself." Beneath the table, Yixing lightly tapped their toes together in encouragement.

From then on it was mostly Yixing and Baekhyun being impressed by each other inclusive of a free psychoanalysis of Yixing's sleeping patterns and habits that sounded more like something someone would see written in a magazine next to the horoscopes. Taeyeon interjected now and again to derail Baekhyun’s theories. Junmyeon brought his attention away when he noticed Li Yin approaching with the stroller.

" Godfather Junmyeon," she said with an apologetic smile. "Can you make sure Hyejin doesn't die in the next thirty minutes? I'm still getting mobbed by people I barely know and Jongdae has been swallowed whole.”

"Sure thing. I-" but Li Yin was already scurrying away back through the sea of bodies. 

He moved the stroller to rest between him and Yixing, looking down just as Hyejin was looking up with curious eyes. She had already changed so much since he'd seen her in the hospital.

He quickly grabbed one of the baby toys from the back, a miniature maraca, and held it in front of her face, but she swatted it away and reached for him instead.

In the hospital he'd been too afraid to touch her. Even now she was the smallest human he'd ever seen up close. But cautiously he reached out his pinky finger, watched her eyes follow it as he moved it back and forth before she gripped it probably with all the strength she had. 

He still felt that discomfort, that subtle unease. But just like when he embraced Jongdae in the hospital, he refused to pull away.

There's no danger here, he thought to himself. Just breathe. No danger. You're ok. 

He looked up when a separate hand picked up the discarded maraca. Yixing looked at him and offered him a gentle smile before putting the toy back in its place and continuing with his conversation. 

By the time thirty minutes had passed, Hyejin was fast asleep and the room was considerably emptier. Junmyeon from afar saw Jongdae’s mother glaring at him but he turned away from her when Yixing softly called his name and didn’t look back.

Like that, the event he’d worried about for so long successfully came and went. This was the first of three good things. 

***

Dopyeong Playhouse hadn’t changed at all. Well, it had changed. It had gotten older and more cluttered. In a quick walkthrough of the backstage Junmyeon had seen glimpses of set pieces that were painted differently but were distinctly the same ones he’d built and worked with prior to going off to college which he didn’t think was even possible.

“We just repainted the exterior back in early March,” Kim Junsu said. He was a member of the board of directors and the person he was scheduled to meet today. “We finally got enough extra donations to start fixing things up a little. The bathrooms in the lobby are being redone right now.”

“That’s good to hear,” Junmyeon said. He kept his elbows in tight where he sat, his hands clasped against his thighs. Junsu had called him a few days ago after reviewing his volunteer application and expressed a desire to speak with him in person. Yixing had come up with all sorts of theories about what might transpire today and he had to talk Jongdae down from performing a full background check on the man. Junmyeon was more focused on staying composed. Luckily this building was so familiar to him, being here actually eased his nerves which made the odd mixture of nostalgia and disappointment in the theatre’s upkeep that much more prominent in his mind.

“It just seems a bit difficult to get people interested in theatre these days. Despite surpassing our recent funding goal, if our audience continues to dwindle we might need to either shut this place down or get more creative and expansive with our programming… like screening… action movies ,” Junsu explained, clearly not liking the idea of it even though there were plenty of theatres in the country like this that did occasionally screen vintage and independent films. Apparently Junsu was also a drama teacher at his old high school. 

“We are getting some generous discounted help from a local marketing agency so I’m crossing my fingers that something comes from them soon. We’ve struggled with attracting people who want to rent the space too… but that brings me to what I wanted to speak with you about. The building itself and actually making these shows happen is its own beast altogether. I’m the only one on the board who has any amount of academic or professional theatre experience. The rest are well-meaning but only enthusiasts nonetheless. What I’m trying to say is, your background is impeccable and I want to offer you a job.”

Junmyeon sat even more stiffly in his chair, his mind trying to catch up with Junsu’s words and a blush spreading up his neck and face when those words did sink in.

“Me? A job?” That must’ve not been the reaction Junsu was looking for so he leaned forward a bit, elbows resting on the cluttered desk to further explain. 

“You’re like a triple threat! You have a degree in technical theatre, job experience as a stage manager at the Seoul Ballet Theatre of all places, and you knew and loved this building growing up. You’re a local boy! Of course we’d love to have you as a volunteer if you already have other commitments, but I figured I’d be doing this theatre a disservice if I didn’t at least ask.”

“What… what would the job be?” 

Junsu relaxed at that, Junmyeon realizing the older man likely had fears initially that he’d reject the idea of employment here right away. Any regular person who saw his resume might be confused why he’d even be living in this part of Daegu given his previous position with the ballet. Then again, Junsu hadn’t asked about the significant gap in his resume over the past year either. 

“Production manager, essentially. And volunteer coordinator although I’d also help with that part. Our sound and lighting systems are old but they work and with the right care can make it through another season before we invest more into replacing them with something newer. Our storage areas are overflowing and need organizing. Having help to vet and manage the rental process during the off season is something we’re also in dire need of especially if that marketing team works out. We need someone who can work with our guest designers and make their experience producing here a good one. Most of all, we need someone reliable to run the shows. A stage manager. I know it sounds like pulling double duty but we can pay you and the atmosphere here is a great one. I’m also only a phone call away and have a handful of promising seniors looking to study theatre in university who I imagine would be eager to put in some hours up here as well to help with getting this place back into shape. Water damage plagued most of our season here last summer.”

And there it was. His next possible step laid out for him bare. All he had to do was say yes but as the responsibilities whirled around his head, he was already coming up with dozens of ways he could mess this up. But Junsu was right. He was experienced, he knew this equipment, and he knew this space. He had worked with people before, been a leader before even during what would probably be the most messed up years of his life at the ballet. 

It had been so long since he had felt the warm embrace of a theatre, the confidence and drive it gave him to make every show the best show, for kids and adults alike to see what was happening on stage and perhaps be forever changed by it. It was this place that made him confident enough to apply to attend school in Seoul years ago. Junsu might think this was a step down for him, but in so many ways maybe this was the exact step forward he needed even if he might mess up a bit, even if he might become overwhelmed at times. With this, he wouldn’t need to feel anymore like he was being left behind or like his past was nipping at his heels. His life was not over. Far from it if he had anything to say about it.

“That sounds great. I want to accept. I mean, I do accept. Is it… possible for me to see the stage again? Just for a moment?”

It was surprising how quickly his feet decided to carry him. He went right past the lighting controls and swung open the door into the stage right wing. It technically wasn’t safe to do this. Junsu hadn’t explicitly stated that the stage was clear but the ghost light at the center gave him all the illumination he needed as he made his way to the downstage edge and looked over the dark house. He didn’t flinch when Junsu did turn on the work lights, bright enough to once again see out into the two hundred seat theatre.

“This is it,” Junsu said simply, following Junmyeon’s gaze as he looked up and all around. It was smaller than the ballet stage. Much smaller. But it was comfortable and daunting, familiar and exciting, well worn but only just beginning.  

“It’s perfect,” he said. “It’s all I need.” 

The feeling of a smile splitting his face almost felt foreign to him but he couldn’t control it and didn’t even think about if the smile was awkward or not or if Junsu found him strange or not. A big star would definitely be put down next to this moment in his journal’s list of good things. Despite all odds, he would be working again in his chosen profession. 

He turned around to fully face Junsu and bowed deeply. 

“Thank you so much for this opportunity, Mr. Kim. I’ll give it my all.”   

***

It was because of his mother that the first thing Junmyeon thought of when Yixing invited him to spend time over at his apartment for a change was that he couldn’t arrive empty handed. In his mind, and in his mother’s mind, it’s what you did to be polite. The only thing was that he couldn’t cook like she could and no matter how comfortable he felt around Yixing, it was his first time being invited anywhere besides Jongdae’s house as a kid or his dorm room as young adults. The last thing he wanted to do was behave the wrong way. 

So when he pulled up on his bike with flowers, toilet paper, and the protein bars he knew Yixing liked, he was second guessing himself quite a bit. He second guessed himself even more when it wasn’t Yixing who answered the side door to the three story apartment building. Instead it was a tall man who had perhaps the largest ears and largest eyes he’d ever seen on a Korean.

“Yixing!” he shouted, staring at him. “All this time you didn’t tell me he was handsome!” And then the man’s eyes grew impossibly bigger when he spotted the bike secured to the lamppost on the street behind him. “And you didn’t tell me his Tomos was vintage!”

Junmyeon just managed to move out of the way before the man, who by observation must be Chanyeol, sped past him to begin inspecting the bike. He turned back around when he heard another set of quick footsteps coming down the echoing stairwell. Yixing looked flushed and almost irritated until he saw Junmyeon. Then his expression changed to one of a mildly exhausted happiness. 

“You made it,” he said, looking comfortable in slim black sweatpants and what looked to be a t-shirt commemorating some sort of college dance event. “And the most illustrious production manager in all of Daegu also comes with gifts! You didn’t have to, Jun, but the roses are beautiful. Is that toilet paper?”

“I wanted to. I’m happy you like them. And yes, it’s toilet paper. And those protein bars you eat.” 

Yixing reached around him and closed the door. Chanyeol didn’t seem to notice, still too engrossed in the bike. If it were anyone else, Junmyeon would be worried. But if this was the same Chanyeol who kept Yixing’s car from falling apart, his touch could only ever help the old bike.

“Don’t mind him. He was just leaving and has a bad habit of showing up here unannounced.”

Yixing lived on the top floor, a small but sunny one bedroom apartment covered in earthy tones and house plants that stood healthy under all the natural sunlight. He immediately cut the roses and put them in a vase on the end table next to his couch. As he did so, Junmyeon was next drawn to all the various photos that covered the wall, heart skipping a beat when he noticed quite a few of a far younger version of his friend next to a boy who must be Sicheng. If Chanyeol was the only other person who knew that story, Yixing must otherwise never or very rarely invite people to his home. Suddenly, the gifts he’d brought didn’t seem quite like enough. 

“I don’t like to keep good memories locked away in photo albums or hard drives,” Yixing said, coming up to stand beside him. “Instead I spend too much money to print out amature photos and frame them.”

And so Yixing explained the photos. One collage of them was of him and Sicheng at the hamburger place near their dance studio in Changsha. There was a beautiful one of his mother smiling for the camera with his father looking surprised in the background. There were several of him dancing, of Sicheng dancing, and from fellow dancers throughout his whole life gathered against mirrors and in green rooms. There were newer ones too of Chanyeol’s garage and the mechanic all smudged up and dirty. There were photos of his college classmates and the apartment they stood in now all empty and new with Yixing sprawled out on the floor with his dance bag still slung over his body, the day he signed the lease. Junmyeon looked closely when Yixing pointed out photos he’d taken of the Daegu City Dance Company but didn’t recognize any of the faces. And the most new, the ones closest to the wide windows was of the tin of cookies he’d gifted Junmyeon last Christmas, of Junmyeon sitting with his legs crossed on the burnt orange carpet of his living room watching Batman cartoons on the TV, and of Junmyeon in his suit standing off to the side as Hyejin was being christened. 

“You’re a voyeur,” he said, willing away the shock of being featured at all in Yixing’s life of good memories.  

“I’m sentimental,” Yixing corrected. “That’s why Baekhyun said I daydream so much but that it’s not bad so long as I don’t daydream myself into a wall while dancing.”

“Has that ever happened?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

It was a peaceful afternoon of completing the beginning stages of a thousand piece Gotham City jigsaw puzzle that Yixing claimed he impulse bought a month ago. They drank lemonade and Yixing occasionally contorted himself into various stretches on the floor. Popular Chinese music from the 1980’s poured from Yixing’s record player and as usual Junmyeon was allowed to go through long periods of silence just existing in his friend’s presence without breaking some sort of unspoken social rule. 

“These cupcakes are from my favorite bakery here,” Yixing said a while later, placing the treats beside their work in progress, the two of them sitting on the couch in anticipation of the snack. “They taste almost as good as one I always went to for special occasions in Changsha. I still get homesick sometimes here but make sure only to get these specific cupcakes when there’s something worth celebrating.” Already blushing in embarrassment, Junmyeon knew where this was likely going. 

“So these cupcakes today are for a few things. The first is your birthday. I can’t believe you never told me and I can’t believe Jongdae assumed you hadn’t told me then went out of his way to give me the information at his church. How dare you, Kim Junmyeon, you old geezer! Congrats to you, you’re thirty-two.” There was no bite to his words but he held up a finger to stop whatever excuse Junmyeon was about to make. A day set aside just to celebrate him always made him uncomfortable so he usually avoided telling people unless he was asked directly. This year’s birthday was pleasant in its own way. After all, it had ended just shortly before Yixing fell asleep during their four hour phone call. 

“These cupcakes are also for your new job as production manager of the Dopyeong Playhouse! I’m so proud of you. You’re such a strong person even if you don’t think so and I admire you all the more for it.” Listening intently and looking at Yixing, Junmyeon felt himself almost floating in response to how joyous his friend seemed right now, the tiredness from the embarrassment Chanyeol probably caused him earlier long gone.

“And thirdly, I wanted to tell you first because… I am so very fond of you. You have been a source of strength and inspiration and you’re a beautiful person inside and out. So that’s why I’m telling you first that I submitted my two week notice to the postal service yesterday. I won’t be your postman anymore. I will miss the daily talks we’d have when I delivered your neverending junkmail but am proud to say I enjoy even more all the time we’ve spent together and all the conversations we’ve had outside of those tiny slots in the day. But I had to resign because I got the call. I passed my audition! I’ll be dancing with the company again next season.” For some reason, Yixing still appeared to be holding back his excitement, like he was too averse to talking about himself as an individual in the present instead of in the past in relation to all those he loved. As a rare contrast, Junmyeon could hardly contain himself.

“Yixing! I’m… that’s wonderful! That’s so wonderful!” The volume of Junmyeon’s voice filled the apartment whole. He wanted to jump up and down so he did as Yixing clapped and laughed with him in joy, finally letting go. Junmyeon danced in what was likely a funny and uncoordinated way to the crooning voice coming from the record player, but he did so without reservation because he knew how Yixing was feeling. He knew because he’d felt the same walking towards that ghost light on the empty stage of Dopyeong Playhouse, like for the first time in ages the sun was truly shining down on him. “I knew you’d make it! I knew you would. Because you’re one of the most talented and versatile dancers I’ve ever seen. I want to come to every performance! I want to hear about every rehearsal!”

He could tell that if he were anyone else, Chanyeol perhaps, then Yixing would’ve jumped in for a tight hug by now as tactile of a person as he was but instead he just kept clapping his hands together at the continued praise. 

“I want nothing more than to experience this journey with you, Jun. Thanks for celebrating with me. I don’t think I could’ve held all this in for another day! We did it. Both of us. We really did it.”

Junmyeon sat back down, taking in the sight of Yixing more to be further in awe of his happiness. He was so in awe he reached out a hand, not so hesitantly, the tips of his fingers sliding down from Yixing’s soft hair to the side of his face, his hand finally stopping to rest on his shoulder. Yixing firmly held his hand there and grinned at him. This didn’t feel bad. He was too happy, too excited, his heart already beating too fast.

Compared to last winter, it was readily apparent now that Junmyeon was not the only one who had changed, had gotten better. Yixing kept quiet or downplayed so many of his struggles, always working hard with his sights on where he wanted to be. And now that he was here it was like a whole other side to himself had been unlocked, the side that made Junmyeon get up and make a fool of himself and not care. 

And there it was in full force, these odd feelings that had no box to fit in, a growing love so unique and rare Junmyeon did not know what to do with it all or how to express it properly. So he latched onto Yixing’s words about the journey, the one they were setting out on together albeit on different stages in different companies in different roles. He liked the sound of that. He liked it a lot. He rested on the idea like an angel on a cloud. 

They say good things happen in threes. This set of three, one of many, concluded on the first Sunday of June.