“Why is it that even after all this time I still get so nervous the night before the first performance? Like Annie . Remember when the school put on Annie ? I was up all night then overslept. And that kid I was carrying the desk with fell off the stage during the scene change blackout. And of course Annie’s locket had to fall out of it. A teacher in the audience came up to check on us… I’m so glad it was dark. All those big mistakes happen on opening night. Maybe that’s why I still get all knotted up. I think, ‘what if this will be another Annie ?’” 

The sky was only now just beginning to brighten, the gravestones all around him losing their shadowy appearance. In front of him rested his parents. To the right were his grandparents. To the right of them, his great grandparents. For a summer morning, the air was cool enough in a way that settled his stomach. When he had first arrived he’d kept his legs respectfully tucked underneath him but now he sat with them crossed comfortably, fingers twisting the stem of a dandelion. 4:37 AM saw him bent over his toilet but with a cup of tea he was out the front door less than an hour later.

“On the inside I still feel like how I was during that show, like I’m still fourteen. I thought maybe that’s why the world sometimes feels so… overwhelming. A man shouldn’t feel that way, right dad? I know mom would say it’s ok. But what would you say? I asked myself that a lot when things were really bad. I couldn’t figure out an answer. I was too afraid to call you to find out. From mom’s journals I know you were worried too. I’m sorry for worrying you.” Junmyeon clenched his toes in his shoes and unclenched them. He repeated that a few more times. “Baekhyun said I… experience certain things that might be signs of some sort of autism or sensory issue. That and maybe Seoul and the army added pressure onto whatever was already going on with me. He says I might have a desire disorder too or something called… auality? But I don’t want to start calling myself things. I said he can treat me through whatever methods are best but… I just want to be me. Kim Junmyeon. That’s what I told him. I want to be happy. These days, I still get stressed out sometimes, but I’m happy. I haven’t even started telling you about Yixing…” 

He hadn’t visited the gravesite since the funeral. Maybe at some point around the one year anniversary people had come. If they had, all signs of their visit were gone now. Theirs was far from being the only gravestone clear of mementos or flowers, but it still hurt to see. The neighborhood had changed so much over the years. With all the discontent Junmyeon had caused, he wondered if that impacted the social standing of his parents. It had sure impacted their grocery business for some months.

“Oh, Jongdae and Li Yin got a sitter so they’re coming to the show tonight. I told them they didn’t have to but they insisted. I can only imagine how hectic it must be in their home. Apparently Hyejin has discovered that Jongdae is much easier to manipulate than her mom. One sound from her and he’ll come running.”

Just the other day the small family had emailed him and a few others a digital photo album documenting how their first few months as three. After knowing Jongdae his entire life, those photos were the first time where it looked like he desired nothing else in the world that he didn’t already have. It was comforting to see.

“Yixing used to deliver mail to the house but turns out he was a dancer recovering from surgery. He dances with a company here in Daegu but he’s from Changsha. That’s in China. He really likes house plants and photography. In his bedroom he’s got snails and an ant farm but is thinking about getting a cat. I think he should get one as long as the ants, snails, and his favored plants are well out of reach. He gave me cookies on Christmas and cupcakes for my birthday and doesn’t just like The Dark Knight movies like most people my age do, he likes the Batman cartoons too. We watch episodes together sometimes. And Teen Titans. We also do puzzles and talk about ballet. Recently he said something about… being teammates. I’m not sure what that means. I think I’m overthinking it?”

Never before had he ever talked about dating with his parents. He’d surely never spoken to them about . They were never ones to pester him about it, even when all the rumors were traveling around about him and Jongdae. When that happened and when the tensions rose with his grandmother, his mother pulled him aside to hear the story straight from him. He told her that he liked Jongdae more than anyone else and that there was nothing he could do about it. He said that if what he felt for Jongdae wasn’t love, then it was as close as he’d ever get to it. She cried then and was oddly quiet for the few days following. But after that she went back to normal and so did his father. They went back to normal while most everyone else never looked at him the same way again. 

“I think about holding hands with Yixing. About kissing. I don’t know if I’d be ok with it. Taecyeon never… after those first few times, he never kissed me. I didn’t tell you about Taecyeon. I’m glad I didn’t. He’s not important. But Yixing is important. He’s really important to me. But I don’t know if Yixing wants to do stuff like that. Kissing, I mean. I don’t know what he wants from me. I’m sort of afraid to ask. But he’ll be at the show tonight too. He gets cold really easily so I told him to bring a sweater…” Junmyeon took a deep breath, suddenly buzzing with nerves again.  

“I wish you could see it. The show. I wish you could see the show.” Junmyeon turned around and pulled a binder out of his backpack. “This is my prompt book. It has the script. I’ll… I’ll read it to you.”

***

The sound of the house filling with patrons was one deeply familiar to him. All the presets for the show were complete by now but for his own peace of mind he liked to stroll from one wing of the stage to another, silent and empty today all but for a crew member who read quietly under a booklight, acknowledging Junmyeon as he passed. Everyone who had ever done a show regardless if their role was on stage or off stage, tended to develop some sort of meditative routine to either calm themselves or focus. By now his friends had probably texted him informing him of his arrival, but he’d put his phone on silent and tucked it into his bag the moment all cast and crew members were accounted for. 

“Chinsun for Junmyeon,” he heard over his radio from the house manager.

“Go for Junmyeon.”

“Scan count: 126 out of 155.” An update on the current total attendance versus how many people had bought tickets.  

“Copy. We’ll start on time.” He headed backstage to do his ten minutes until top of show call.

Like always, it was at this point where his nerves miraculously began to settle, his mind instead filling with the list of cues and mechanisms that would need to happen for the show to run as it should. This was nothing like the ballet but it was no less important. In some ways, this was the most important show of his life. But eventually when the house lights dimmed and the audience fell quiet, the show began. Tom Wingfield took the stage to begin his narration recounting the final days he spent toiling supporting his mother and sister in St. Louis before he finally had enough and set himself free. All of Junmyeon’s movements after that came to him naturally.

Soon Junmyeon stared at the monitor in front of him, watching the actors bow as the audience applauded. His heart was racing but not enough to make him feel like he was losing control of his body. Their tech week and preview night had all gone really well so it shouldn’t be a surprise that opening night had gone off almost without a hitch. Junmyeon had missed one cue but the board op took it anyway. Now the stage emptied of actors one by one. At his final cue, the stage lights faded out and the house lights came up. His ears finally breathed once he removed his headset.

By the time he walked back to the greenroom, the entire cast and run crew were jumping and cheering. The cake Junmyeon had arranged for from the bakery Yixing liked so much arrived during the show and was brought back by the house manager as planned. He entered silently, pouring himself a cup of lemonade. 

“JUNMYEON!!!” He flinched at the volume in which Hanseul, their props volunteer from a local college, shouted his name, many others following. He quickly gathered himself. Now everyone’s attention was on him. 

“Good job tonight. I do have notes-” Everyone collectively groaned. He blushed. “But… but those can wait until tomorrow. Enjoy the cake!” 

“You’re the absolute best,” Eunsun, who played the daughter in the show, said. The notes he had weren’t that lengthy. Mostly about timing. Speeding through lines. A slight fumble with prop food trays that had even plagued rehearsals. He would give that note gently. 

Not long after, Sunmi came backstage. Much different than how she normally looked at rehearsals, now she wore a green dress seemingly printed with leaves and colorful makeup to match, her hair intricately done up in some type of bun. She immediately embraced each of the actors but when she walked up to him switched to a salute. Once she got her own slice of cake, the two of them began comparing notes on the performance until they were interrupted. 

“Mr. Kim?” It was Jinri, one of their high school volunteers. “There are people by the stage door for you.”

How could he have forgotten? Jongdae, Li Yin, Yixing, and even Chanyeol were all here. Maybe it’s because it had been years since anyone he knew personally had come to see anything he’d worked on. It had been years since he had the type of life where he wasn’t pushing away everyone he cared about. 

“We seem to be on the same page,” Sunmi told him, likely seeing the conflict play out on his face. “I can call you in the morning to iron out the last few points.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, not wanting to seem unprofessional.

“Your friends were sitting right behind me during the show. I know they can’t wait to congratulate you. Don’t party too late!” Jinri barely managed to hold in a laugh.

“Mr. Kim doesn’t seem like the partying type. No offense, Mr. Kim.”

“None taken. None taken at all. Thank you, Jinri. Sunmi, until tomorrow.”

The outside air had barely hit him before he was being pummeled with roses and carnations, the flash of a camera going off so bright it made him momentarily cross eyed.

“Not so much Chanyeol! I warned you not so much!” Apparently it had been Chanyeol with all his height dropping flowers from above, many of which Junmyeon now tried to make sure he wasn’t stepping on by accident. Yixing looked at him as if concerned he’d done something wrong but returned Junmyeon’s smile when he saw it.  

“That was a great performance,” Jongdae said from his other side, arm comfortably around Li Yin’s waist. “That main guy was an though.” Junmyeon grinned.

“That’s stage drama for you. Li Yin, how are you doing? I’m afraid the next time I see Hyejin she’ll be as tall as me.”

“We’re both fine. Just pray for your friend. Even when it’s my night on baby duty he’s still right there with me. Hasn’t gotten a proper night’s sleep since we both came home. But this will be our last time going out for a while I think. Makes me nervous leaving Hyejin at home… even if we did get someone to watch her.”

“And who is watching her?” he asked. 

“Our neighbor’s daughter.”

“Whose parents think very highly of her,” Jongdae added in. “But either way, I don’t want to leave the two of them unsupervised any longer than I have to.” 

Junmyeon tried to not let the disappointment show on his face. It had been so long since he’d last been able to spend time with Jongdae. It’s not something he blamed his friend for, he had just gotten so used to Jongdae’s visits and still hadn’t gotten unused to them even though it had been almost five months since they’d stopped. True to Li Yin’s story, the dark circles under Jongdae’s eyes really popped out in person. 

“Thanks for making the arrangements to come out tonight anyway. I don’t think I’ve ever had a crowd like this waiting for me before. Not for a long time.” Jongdae nodded and leaned in close. 

“We need to catch up soon and have a proper conversation about your Yixing situation ,” he whispered and Junmyeon’s face got impossibly hotter. “Until next time!” his friend then said for everyone to hear, winking before stepping back to Li Yin’s side. Chanyeol returned the farewell but Yixing still stood unsure beside him, the rest of the dropped flowers in his arms. 

“Let me take a picture of you two,” Chanyeol said once Jongdae’s car pulled away. “Scootch over. In front of the stage door sign.”

“Only if you want to, of course,” Yixing added, voice taking on the same edge it did the last time Chanyeol embarrassed him when Junmyeon had visited his apartment. 

“I want to,” Junmyeon assured him and stepped closer. 

Holding the flowers now re-gathered into haphazard bouquets, their elbows bumped together but Junmyeon didn’t step away. He grounded himself and stood still, urging Yixing closer with a pull on his ankle. The camera flashed three times in succession. 

“It really was a good show,” Yixing said once Chanyeol was satisfied with his photography work. “A bit sad but… good. I think the set was painted very well. Pass on my compliments to your volunteers.”

“I will.”

“Yixing told the whole dance company about the show,” Chanyeol said, grinning in a way that made Junmyeon think he wasn’t supposed to have mentioned that. “One of them came tonight. More might come to the other shows.”

“Who came tonight?” Junmyeon asked just as Yixing was pulling his light jacket tighter around himself. Always cold. 

“Kim Jongin. I mentioned him before, that apprentice. He’s a fully fledged company member now though. Sweet as ever. But he couldn’t wait around. Once it gets to be ten o’clock he passes out and he lives on the other side of the city.” Junmyeon was glad to hear the news. He did remember Yixing mentioning the young dancer that everyone seemed immediately endeared to. 

“I’m sorry to have missed him then. Tell him I appreciate him coming.” 

By now the back of the theater had filled up with everyone else’s families all offering congratulations. Junmyeon glanced over them all fondly, not noticing that he had spaced out of the conversation happening in front of him.

“Junmyeon?” Chanyeol said, bringing him back to alertness.

“Oh! Sorry. I’ve been up and about since before dawn. What were you saying?” Yixing jumped in.

“We were discussing possibly getting something to eat to celebrate but maybe another time? Maybe after the show closes next week like we were thinking before. Are you good to get home alright?” Junmyeon stood up straighter, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to stay alert.

“It’s only a short ride away.”

“Yixing actually has the ability to take you there now. I put a rack on the back of his car that can hold your bike. Brand new!” Chanyeol said. The news surprised him but Junmyeon was too tired to object to Chanyeol urging him to the parking lot to check out his handiwork. “Yixing is quiet about it now but believe me he asked me over and over if I was certain it wouldn’t damage the bike.” The thing did look sturdy and since it was rigged to the back of the car instead of up top making necessary only minimal lifting. “See he’s probably mad at me now because I keep saying stuff like this but I’m very invested in… whatever this is,” Chanyeol gestured wildly in the air, “working out.” 

Beneath the somewhat chaotic manner in which Chanyeol seemed to carry himself, the earnesty in his tone was clear. Still, when the two of them turned to Yixing who stood a few paces away, his face stoic in a way that Junmyeon was coming to understand indicated irritation. Eventually, he sighed. 

“Go home, Chanyeol,” he said. If it weren’t for Chanyeol breaking out into laughter before excusing himself, Junmyeon might’ve thought Yixing was genuinely upset. Huffing, the dancer let all the flowers in his arms fall onto the hood of his car, wrapping his arms around himself. Still cold. 

“Junmyeon, I’m-”

“Let’s go back to the house.” Yixing froze. “I’ll go get my bike,” he said hurriedly, not looking back at Yixing as he rushed away from his car. 

***

The short ride back was quiet, Yixing’s old car causing its usual racket up the winding dirt road. The little house on the hill stood as it always did, calm in the summer night. After the previous weekend, Junmyeon didn’t have to invite Yixing inside. Instead they naturally walked together to the back to put the bike away, and through the back doorway that opened up into the mismatched living room. 

“Junmyeon, about what I said before. I hope it didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“What you said before?” Junmyeon asked, taking a seat in his dad’s old chair. But he didn’t sit back and relax, not with Yixing’s distress seemingly growing by the second where he still stood. 

“About being teammates.” 

So this was when they were going to talk about it. Maybe it’s because Junmyeon had been awake for so many hours that his insides didn’t automatically fill with knots. Instead it was like standing on the shoreline knowing a wave was coming, one that would either soothe his aching feet or rip him apart. 

“It didn’t make me uncomfortable,” he said. “I just… didn’t really understand what it meant. Can you tell me?” Yixing rubbed at his elbows, slowly taking his usual seat on the couch. 

“I’m not sure if I should. Like I said, it’s silly.”

Junmyeon looked to his family portrait on the wall, gaze lingering on the awkward boy there sporting an awkward smile while trying to control an even younger rabbit. He looked back over to Yixing, the thoughts cranking through the dancer’s mind so quickly it’s like he could see the smoke coming out of his ears. 

“I was in a relationship with a man named Taecyeon for four years. We met at a ballet fundraiser. I hated myself and he said he could fix me. I wanted to be normal. I wanted to be like others around me… as much as I could, being drawn to men as I was. I was also what they call a functioning alcoholic. Had been for a few years at that point. I’d dabbled in some medications too. Gotten them off of other people from time to time. But Taecyeon had something for everything. I could be up and focused and raring to go when I had to be, and I could knock myself out when I needed to sleep. I got praised at work for how well I was doing and back at Taecyeon’s place, after he got tired of me panicking whenever we were intimate, I got drugs for that too. Sometimes I’d be conscious. Other times I wasn’t. But I was never lucid. It never occurred to me that what was happening to me could be considered … until he brought two of his friends over once to join. 

“My life was a very balanced group of addictions. I had moved out of my own apartment by then. He automatically got half of all my paychecks. The relationship was never a good one, but after that night it got progressively worse. I thought if I left, I’d die. I thought if I stayed, I could still die. But when my parents were killed in a car crash, a truck’s brakes failed… the thought of no longer living seemed more appealing. 

“I didn’t intentionally overdose, but I kept pushing the limits until it was inevitable that I would. And I did. I’d lost Taecyeon. It took me begging so that he wouldn’t throw me out on the street. I’d gotten notified by the ballet that they wouldn’t be bringing me back the next season too. Jongdae came and got me at the hospital. That’s how I ended up back in Daegu after the life threatening withdrawal symptoms passed. I was clean but I wasn’t stable. The thought of going outside was like going into a warzone. When I signed for that package you brought, that was my first time talking to someone other than Jongdae since I’d moved back home. 

“When I was a teenager, I was in love with Jongdae. In my own way. A way that probably doesn’t count according to most people. I’m ok with saying that now. He took my love and he was gentle with it. He still is to this day. I hope you are also gentle with it, with my love for you. So can you please tell me what you meant about being teammates? It has been keeping me up at night. I don’t want you to say anything that you’d regret, so if you need to rethink it now that you’ve heard that part of my story, I understand. No pressure either way. I don’t want you to feel an obligation to me just because I’ve had troubles in the past… or just because I still struggle sometimes in the present.”

A long silence followed, one that was broken by a quiet sob from Yixing. Startled, Junmyeon stood up and crossed the room, gently sitting on the other end of the couch, preparing an apology in his mind but Yixing shook his head quickly when he began to, wiping at his eyes and steeling himself.  

“I think we work well together. That’s what I meant by teammates. I think we could make good partners… in life. Nothing has to change. Just… we could plan things? If you wanted to. Like we could maybe live together eventually someday. Become like a family of sorts. Be together in whatever way we want to be. Whatever feels comfortable for us. But it would be us . That’s what I meant.” Yixing turned to him as if to gauge how well Junmyeon understood his words but Junmyeon’s heart was beating so violently it made him dizzy. Yixing continued.   

“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re fine the way you are. I love you the way you are in the most unique way I could love someone. I already said I don’t care about . In fact, I’d prefer not to do that kind of thing. I don’t care about kissing, I’d prefer not to do that either. But I’d like to hold your hand. To hug you someday. To be close to you like I was with Sicheng. But other than that, I’m talking about forgetting all these rules that presume what needs to happen between two people who decide to celebrate and acknowledge who they are together. I am talking about honoring the way my soul speaks to yours. I think that someday we could be like that if we wanted to. I wouldn’t bring it up if I didn’t think it were possible, but I didn’t know if you’d accept me like that. I’ve said before that I’m very fond of you in my own special way. I have been for a long time.”

Junmyeon scooted over to the couch cushion next to Yixing’s own. He managed to catch the younger’s eyes, keeping contact with them as he let Yixing’s words wash over him, a gentle wave after all. He flattened his feet on the ground and corrected his posture, a deep breath in and a deep breath out. He took Yixing’s hand in his own. Of course Yixing’s hand was cold. Junmyeon looked at the ways their hands touched and willed away his fear long enough for Yixing’s dimpled smile to return. And he could see it, the path together that Yixing wanted. And no matter how unusual or unheard of it might be, he wanted it too. 

“I accept you, Zhang Yixing.”