“It's not true

Tell me I've been lied to

Crying isn't like you….”

Raw emotion bled from his tone into that solemn face, icy blue eyes, color contacts, peeking out from under a mop of light blonde, honeysuckle fringe. A white oversized cable knit sweater drowns the small body, only allowing his whitewashed jeans to peak out mid-thigh, and it makes him look so tiny, so freaking small up there on a giant stage. A fluffy golden halo of hair on his head - a crown for the perfect prince, Chanyeol thinks it fits him so well. 

The little blonde pours his soul out with every syllable forming beautifully on his lips. Something about the ease of the words yet the devastation, and melancholy bitterness of icy heartbreak embedded in the sentiment, matches the blue color contacts in the man’s eyes, and Chanyeol can’t look away as something squeezes tight in his chest.

In all of Chanyeol’s sixteen years of life, he’d never felt something like this before. This obvious connection between himself and this man that doesn’t even know of his existence. It doesn’t matter if Baekhyun knows him or not, for this is the first time Chanyeol truly understood music.

This is his first love.

The haunting voice of Baekhyun is his everything and secures the love story between Chanyeol and music.

The young performer with the most gorgeous voice of their decade, Chanyeol was watching history in the making - The solidification of Korea’s fairy, one of EXO’s most talented members. Not only is Baekhyun the embodiment of beauty, but his talent is also unmatched. Even as a rookie nearly fresh from debut, no one can deny Byun Baekhyun’s evident skill level. You would have to be blind and deaf, not to notice the pure magic that is the most perfect boy in the world. He’s everything to Chanyeol, he HAS everything that the awkward, big-eared teenager will never be able to possess and something about him binds Chanyeol’s fate.

With one glance of those downturned, droopy endearing puppy eyes, he’s in love.

“It's not true

Tell me I've been lied to

Crying isn't like you

Oooh….”

Chanyeol is transfixed. 

His whole body is alert like a dog to its master, and every single little note has the hairs on his arms standing up on end. Chanyeol had never reacted this way to a singer before. Still, something so breathtakingly different about the small blonde male on stage in this dingy stage venue, looking like an angel who fell from heaven, perched on a wooden barstool against a backdrop too plain compared to the man’s ethereal profile and wow. Chanyeol is speechless by the sheer beauty from his outward appearance and the lush, rich voice that comes out of such a petite figure.

Chanyeol can’t register anything else besides Baekhyun. Not the man’s bandmates that sit idly by on stage, close to the little songbird, not the screeching, eardrum bursting squeals of fans, not even Sehun’s snarky comments. 

Baekhyun...

 The rich warmth of the blonde’s full tone flowed like hot chocolate as Baekhyun clutched the mic in hand. When he sings, it’s as if the angelic man is transcending Chanyeol to an entirely different world. It’s as if life slows down to a calming lull - drowning out the mostly drunk on adoration audience of young adults and teens and Chanyeol forgets that he’s one of them, just another young face in the crowd cheering for Byun Baekhyun. For now, he’s more than that. For if only in this moment, he’s getting to bear witness to the most beautiful human in the entire universe. This is the most precious moment to Chanyeol, just watching, having the privilege to listen to that burning tone that whispers broken promises in his ears.

Nothing is more magical than seeing Baekhyun caught up in the moment in his element, up there on the stage, high above the simmering crowd, and despite the hundreds of other fans there, the moment feels almost intimate. As if the only two in the world are Baekhyun and Chanyeol, and the latter’s whole body aches with the bleeding sentiment of the vocalist’s raw tone.

Never had he heard a more lovely voice. The passion that’s so obvious in Baekhyun’s strong voice and his soft, ethereal face scrunched up with emotion dripping from every crevice as he sang out, solo to the crowd.

With every note accompanying Chen’s guitar's gentle strumming, Chanyeol’s heart breaks along with the chords.

‘Baekhyun…’

“What the hell did I do?

Never been the type to

Let someone see right through...Maybe won't you take it back? 

Say you were tryna make me laugh. And nothing has to change today...

You didn't mean to say ‘I love you….’

I love you --

And I don't want to…”

A skinny, fifteen-year-old Sehun at Chanyeol’s side resists rolling his eyes as his tall friend lets fat, warm tears roll down his reddening cheeks along with the numerous hysterical girls surrounding them. The ty lighting in the audience doesn’t really help Chanyeol’s pathetically ugly crying face, but Sehun can’t help the wave of fondness that rolls over him from the sight. 

God, his best friend, was so pathetic. A big, whiny puppy, head over heels for some idol that millions of others feel the exact same way for. But Sehun wants to think it’s different for his friend. Chanyeol was too sincere in his admiration, almost blindly dedicated in the purest sense. 

The tears on his face blend with his snotty nose as Chanyeol lifts his homemade sign as tall as his lanky youthful body can brandish it. He looks so stupidly endearing that Sehun has to avert his gaze up to the object of Chanyeol’s affection sitting high up on the stage. 

The burning lights cast a soft glow on Baekhyun’s lithe body, warm hues of gentle white and yellows playing in the silky sheen of his honeysuckle hued hair and Chanyeol let out such a soft gasp that Sehun barely hears it over the roar of the crowd. But because he’s so close to the other, it’s almost impossible to miss. And something unmistakable in the small noise clenched Sehun’s chest, and a frown finds its way onto his face. 

Sehun spares another glance to his friend’s tearful expression, the brightest twinkling light in those big eyes, rounding with a mushy softness that has the younger worried.

 ‘Hyung… how can you be like this? You’re going to get yourself hurt, you idiot, and you have no idea…’ Sehun thinks with a knowing look on his features, concern churning low in his gut, and he wants to protect the older from himself, but it’s futile. 

Sehun knows, has known - Chanyeol is already gone, and something about that hurts to the point that Sehun has to look away again at the crooked, goofy smile on his pathetic face. 

If only everyone else could see how pure Chanyeol’s love was, just like Sehun had witnessed firsthand… If only things could be different and his hyung would have an easier time, but it’s too late, nothing will ever be easier with Chanyeol.

‘Be careful, you idiot.’

“Hyung. You’re so lucky I’m your friend, or I would so be using this opportunity to bully you right now.”

“Shut up, Sehun!! Baekhyun’s voice is so beautiful - like a fluffy angel bunny hopping on clouds of rainbows and --”

“I’m never agreeing to come to an EXO concert with you again.” 

Or, as Sehun found out, he said that same line again and again for years. Still, somehow, every single time he’d end up right back to one of those screaming fests, awkwardly patting a full-on sobbing Chanyeol through his teenage heartbreak of his one and only bias, Baekhyun. 

Sehun had never seen someone else more obsessed with a singer than Chanyeol. Honestly, an obsession was even putting it lightly. Chanyeol lived and breathed Baekhyun. The taller male never missed a single interview, vlog, music video release, fan signing, the entire works. Chanyeol practically even ran the entire EXO fan cafe in Seoul. All of the little fangirls knew Chanyeol and Sehun couldn’t even count the number of times he had to separate a screaming match between some teenage girl and Chanyeol over who loved Baekhyun more… It was absolute madness, the leave of dedication to some idol his friend didn’t even know. And, not to mention one of the strangest parts to Sehun was the fact that Baekhyun was a male. 

All the other boys their age were starting to notice the fascinating soft dips and generous curves of female idols like Girls Generation, and Sehun was no different. But for whatever reason, Chanyeol wasn’t. Every time SNSD even came on the radio, it was the equivalent of listening to their English Language teacher drown on about poetry format that Sehun couldn’t bother to pay enough attention to. Chanyeol wouldn’t even glance twice at a girl group poster or gorgeous actress advertisement. It was as if they were as interesting as a pile of dust, and honestly, they might as well have been compared to Baekhyun. 

You couldn’t convenience Sehun by any means that that was normal behavior. 

Chanyeol blabbered about Baekhyun so much that Sehun felt like he even ing knew the guy personally. He was an ever-present part of their lives, unwillingly on the younger’s part, but what did he expect from his weirdo of a friend?

With how Chanyeol spoke about Baekhyun, the way the shy boy’s eyes lit up like the sun, and he bloomed from his little bud - Sehun didn’t have the heart to say anything otherwise, letting the big goofball have his crush in peace. Or, that’s what Sehun figured it was, the boy putting two and two together after years of sitting in uncomfortable places on the subway or even having to stand up while the empty space went for Chanyeol’s giant, limited edition Baekhyun cardboard cutout. 

It wasn’t until one fateful day of awkward regretful teenage years known as highschool that Chanyeol’s uality was put on display, and Sehun preferred to forget that day’s existence in their life. Labeling it as unnecessary and unimportant.

He would protect Chanyeol with everything he had. Sehun had vowed it from that day forward. But, there were just a few things in this world that even Sehun couldn’t prevent.

 

 

 

 

 

--Present--

So when he scrolled past the article on his phone, the twenty-one year old spat out his boba tea all over Jongin, drenching his tan features.

“HEY! What the , Sehun!?!” Jongin yelled out, tan face scrunching in disgust and exasperation, as he lifted wide eyes to his unresponsive friend. What the hell? What Sehun out of his mind? “What did you do that for, you ?” 

Sehun doesn’t even hear the other’s frantic curses. Instead, his entire attention is on the big, bolded print on his phone screen, and the color quickly drains from his face. When the other doesn’t respond to Jongin’s calls, the tan boy snaps his mouth, concern starting to mix in with the irritation in his look at the strange silence that engulfs his younger friend. 

“Hey man, are you alright?” Jongin’s tone softens, the anger slowly dissipating with the weird atmosphere, and he plucks up a spare napkin from the tabletop. 

Feeling gross and sticky, Jongin begins wiping at his face, waiting patiently for the other to explain himself when Sehun leaps up from the plastic chair. The metal legs scuff against the cafeteria tile obnoxiously, and Jongin stares up at him in shock, mid-wipe. And before either of them registers what’s happening, Sehun is sprinting away from the table, his boba tea and food abandoned with a sopping wet and very confused Jongin.

“What’s wrong - Where are you going!? SEHUN --” Jongin calls after him, but Sehun is already gone, using his long, lean legs to sprint out and away, leaving Jongin gawking after him.

Chanyeol slumped back in the uncomfortable black padded office chair, exhaustion slowly creeping into his limbs as his bloodshot gaze shifted over to the neon red blinking numbers of the clock above the recording booth, reading 2:39 a.m. Well, , no wonder he was tired. Last time he had looked at the time, it was only a quarter past 6 p.m., and he wasn’t even halfway finished with recording and composing the new tracks for his upcoming mixtape. 

Ugh, Chanyeol let out a loud groan that echoed around the empty studio room. There was just too much to do, and he couldn’t afford to go back to his apartment and sleep it off. He had to get these new songs finished within the next three days, or he would miss the deadline, and that wasn’t an option.

The raven-haired male dropped his skull into his massive hands, cradling his aching head as the seconds ticked by. ‘, maybe if I go downstairs and buy an Americano from the coffee machine, I can make it to at least 7 a.m….’ 

Chanyeol’s line of thought was cut off by the sound of glass door hinges squeaking open before slamming shut as a body flopped down onto the cheap pleather couch at the back of the room. He didn’t even have to turn around to know who the intruder was.

“Hyung, are you for real? What the hell? You !! I can’t ing believe you right now --” Sehun’s nosily voice pitched with exasperation, and Chanyeol could hear the younger throw his hands down against the furniture for emphasis. Slowly, the lanky giant lifted his head from his hold and swiveled around in the office chair to face the other boy’s shocked expression. Sehun is breathing heavily, looking more than a little winded as he glares up at the elf-eared male, anger darkening his face. 

Sehun looked more than a little mad...that was for sure. Actually, the younger looked like he was going to punch him in the face at any second.

“That’s not very nice to call your hyung, you know.” Chanyeol starts sheepishly under the intensity of the other’s stare before flinching as Sehun flies up to a standing position, towering over Chanyeol, and the older can practically see the furiosity rolling off of him in waves of red.

Well, .

He had expected this, but Sehun’s anger wasn’t a fun thing to deal with. And Chanyeol never dealt well with confrontation. This time didn’t seem to be any different, and really, Chanyeol felt super ing bad, guilt clenching his gut and twisting his insides. Sehun deserved to yell at him. He was a piece of friend and deserved to be told off, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Chanyeol! Get serious! How could you do this?? Do you have a death wish? Or maybe...You don’t care about your career or wellbeing?” Sehun starts yelling, volume