Chanyeol awakened with a jolt, joints aching from having fallen asleep with his head resting on his forearm, eyeing his surroundings in disorientation.  In front of him was the snow globe he had been working on apparently, taking him a few moments before the object registered. 

 

It was a cute, penguin-like chef cooking abura soba, in that miniature kitchen, complete with oven, stoves, pots and pans…

 

“Oh, !” Chanyeol muttered under his breath as he fetched his phone from his backpack, and there were 12 missed calls from Kyungsoo, and perhaps 61 messages asking where he was or if he was okay, even coaxing him with wining and dining and offering to be the little spoon for him afterwards because it made Chanyeol come at least three times the last time they did it...

 

Tonight was the grand opening of Kyungsoo’s restaurant, an event that Kyungsoo had invited him to attend months ago.  However, Chanyeol hadn’t been sleeping too well lately as he had come up with designs for tiny snow globes for the holidays, and he was making a Chef’s Kiss version for Kyungsoo—the only one in the world—as a congratulatory gift for this awe-inspiring chef reaching a milestone. 

 

And Chanyeol had missed it.

 

He cringed at Kyungsoo’s last message, could feel the latter seething at him.  You douchebag.  I waited and waited for you, until closing time and everyone had left.  If you didn’t plan on showing up, you should have said so.

 

Chanyeol wanted to kick himself as he immediately called Kyungsoo’s number, only it rang once and then he was forwarded to voicemail.  “H-Hi, it’s me.”

 

, he really couldn’t blame Kyungsoo for blocking his number. 

 

Even if he didn’t know what to say, Chanyeol went on to leave a message, in case Kyungsoo would be still be up for listening to it.  “I… lost track of time.  I know it’s not an excuse but… I… really wanted to be there, and to celebrate with you and your—”

 

And then there was a long beep, and the line turned busy.

 

Chanyeol sighed, ending the call instead.  Perhaps he should come over Kyungsoo’s house, even if it was 1:12 a.m., to grovel and apologize.  Kyungsoo would tend to take pity on him after a short while, ask him to come in and even cook for him.  Then this would lead to cuddling and kissing and eventually to earth-shattering, astoundingly fluid, make-up that blew Chanyeol’s mind everytime.

 

Shoving the almost finished Chef’s Kiss snow globe into his pocket, Chanyeol locked his workshop and headed out in the cold snow, about to proceed with his plan.  He passed by the site of Kyungsoo’s empty and dark restaurant after a few minutes and extreme regret overwhelmed him.  It wasn’t even that far off from where Chanyeol’s apartment was and yet… he didn’t make the time to drop by and show his support.

 

Perhaps Chanyeol subconsciously panicked as Kyungsoo inviting him to a personal event—with Kyungsoo’s friends and family present—signified something beyond their fiery ing.  They had only agreed to  just one time when they first met.  However, they kept running back to each other, as if one activated an internal magnet that continued to impeccably attract the other, and vice versa. 

 

Yet neither Chanyeol nor Kyungsoo confirmed becoming more than buddies, and six years they had been sticking to this convenient-booty-call arrangement.   

 

“The restaurant’s closed.”

 

Chanyeol jumped at the amused voice that diverted his attention.  The store keeper next door was smiling at him, two deep dimples deeply puncturing both cheeks, as if entertained by him.

 

This store keeper was wearing a purple robe, etched with the constellation of the universe, and his outfit was rounded out by a purple head dress to boot.  “Care to have your fortune read?”

 

Chanyeol checked the store’s signage that said, “Zhang Yixing, Psychic: Fortune Telling and Magic Spells”

 

The toy maker started to retreat, finding it incredibly strange that it was the only store in the entire street still open at this hour.  “Um, no, thank you.”

 

Yixing held up his hand.  “I think you need it.  A few hours ago, there’s a particularly pissed off young chef who screamed that he never wanted to see you again.”

 

Well, Chanyeol didn’t need a psychic to tell him that, as an absurd blush tainted his entire face.  “N-Never mind, I really should go…”

 

“I always give free readings to first time customers,” Yixing added, blinking a couple of times innocently.  “If you don’t believe a word I say after a minute, you may leave.”

 

Chanyeol found himself weirdly considering this offer.  “I don’t have to pay anything?”

 

“It won’t cost you a cent,” Yixing assured, summoning Chanyeol to follow him, while the toy maker’s long legs dragged his own weight into the dimly, yet warmly, lit store.  “Please have a seat.”

 

Chanyeol tentatively sat down opposite Yixing, who was now sitting in front of a blindingly bright crystal ball. 

 

“Hmm…” Yixing murmured, looking deeply into the circular, cloudy, smoky divination thingamajig. 

 

“Should I tell you my name or something?” Chanyeol whispered, when Yixing didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes. 

Yixing suddenly shushed him, eyebrows furrowed now as if concentrating even harder at whatever it was he was seeing in the crystal ball.  “You’re in love with someone.”

 

Chanyeol scoffed.  He knew it.  This was a ing waste of time, when he could have been ing Kyungsoo already right this minute!  “That’s it.  Goodbye and good night!”

 

“Wait!” Yixing stopped him, but his eyes remained focused on his crystal ball.  “The key is what you have in your pocket.”

 

Chanyeol immediately checked his wallet and his phone in both pockets of his pants and wondered if this fake mystic was about to rob him.  “What the hell are you talking about?”

 

“You’re going to give it to him as a gift.”

 

Startled, Chanyeol reached for the snow globe inside his jacket, but didn’t take it out because he wanted Kyungsoo to be the first one to see it. 

 

“But you don’t know how to tell him how you feel.”

 

“Look, however it is I feel is really none of your business,” Chanyeol snapped.

 

“But it is his,” Yixing replied, finally meeting the toy maker’s gaze. 

 

Chanyeol froze for some reason, as if the psychic acquired the autonomy of Chanyeol’s body at his very mercy.

 

“Give me your hand,” Yixing requested, extending his right one to Chanyeol, who was initially—understandably—reluctant.

 

“I’ll help you,” The psychic promised, his sleepy eyes now earnest.  “You just have to trust me.”

 

Trembling a little, Chanyeol gave his much larger hand to Yixing and all of a sudden… everything turned white.

 

************

 

When Chanyeol finally roused, he found himself… suspended, as if there was some kind of substance—gel-like almost—that was supporting his body.  He realized that there was no air, and he began to panic, flailing his long arms and legs wildly until he found that he could actually move—or swim—from his current position. 

 

Still, he didn’t seem to have a hard time breathing… or perhaps he didn’t need to. 

 

The last thing he remembered was that bastard Yixing spewing lucky guesses on the spat he was going through with Kyungsoo and the psychic holding his hand that caused him to lose consciousness.

 

Holy .  Did he just get murdered? 

 

Was this purgatory?  Was this his punishment for being such an —not just to Kyungsoo, but in general—all these years?

 

His eyes ardently searched for anything or anyone to help him make sense of what was going on, and why he appeared to be underwater (?) and yet he wasn’t, until his sights fell on a tiny man whose back was turned to him, with feet firm on the fine sand at the bottom of the sea (?).

 

Feeling a glimmer of hope, Chanyeol eagerly swam towards him, suddenly remembering that he was actually quite a skilled diver when he was still alive (since he was presumably dead). 

 

Only when Chanyeol tried to speak that he realized his voice was lost.  What was up with that?  He supposed he could resort to plan B: swim in front of the man to gesture to him. 

 

Kyungsoo? Chanyeol called out inwardly, as recognition befell him.  Kyungsoo was motionless as a statue, in his chef’s uniform in what appeared to be his prized kitchen at home, cooking Chanyeol’s favorite, abura soba.

 

Chanyeol rapidly approached, able to dig his shoes into the sand, and desperately wrapped his arms around him.  Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo!  Did Yixing kill you too?!

 

No reply or no movement from Kyungsoo, who still had a gentle smile on his face, and holding the pot where he was cooking the ramen Chanyeol would always request from him.

 

This had to be a dream—a nightmare!—because Chanyeol couldn’t bear the thought of a world without Doh Kyungsoo, such a beloved chef, son, brother, friend… lover…

 

Chanyeol framed the motionless Kyungsoo’s small face to gaze at him, but those round, brown eyes lacked their warmth and guile while his petite, lean body was too stiff and cold to the touch, as if there was no life in it.

 

It was then that it dawned on Chanyeol that this was not the real Kyungsoo. 

 

Quickly, Chanyeol went around him and peered down the chef’s collar by his nape. 

 

The initials PCY were carved on it.

 

As Chanyeol would carve on any piece of toy that he created with his own hands.

 

!  !  !!!

 

Chanyeol looked up and discerned that those things glistening in the sky weren’t stars but snowflakes and glitter and that what he was surrounded by was not water, but glycerin. 

 

Extreme fear gripped him, couldn’t help but curve his own body over Kyungsoo—or at least the miniature replica of him—hugging him from behind.  He was trapped inside his own ing snow globe and he didn’t know if he was ever going to get out. 

 

************

 

Kyungsoo was still in a bad mood when he opened up his restaurant just before 8 a.m.  Minutes later, he scowled when his best friend and main server, Baekhyun, came bouncing in with bright, happy spirits.  “Good morning, bestie!”

 

“What’s good in the morning?” Kyungsoo retorted, proceeding to put the chairs back in their places to get ready for the day.

 

“You’re still upset about Chanyeol?” Baekhyun guessed.
 

“I don’t know such a person,” Kyungsoo quipped sarcastically, and was about to proceed to the kitchen when their first customer for the day came in.

 

“Good morning,” Baekhyun greeted happily, and his beautiful smile broadened into a grin when he recognized who it was.  “Oh, hello, Yixing!  What a pleasant surprise!”

 

Yixing grinned back, two dimples digging deep on his cheeks that it made Baekhyun giggle.  “Good morning, Baekhyun.  Good morning, Kyungsoo.  I’m sorry I wasn’t able to attend your grand opening last night.”

 

Before Kyungsoo could react, Baekhyun replied for him, “It’s okay.  You don’t have to apologize.  Kyungsoo wants to hear that apology from someone else.”

 

“Shut it, Baek,” Kyungsoo warned in gritted teeth, smiling awkwardly at their friendly, neighborhood psychic, whom Baekhyun had the obvious hots for.  “The good thing is that you’re here now.”

 

“Unlike some people,” Baekhyun murmured under his breath, which earned him a death glare from Kyungsoo.  “How about some breakfast, Yixing?”

 

“I’d love to, but I have to take my costumes for dry cleaning,” Yixing politely declined, smiling especially sweetly at Baekhyun, while handing the chef a neatly wrapped gift box.  “I just dropped by to give Kyungsoo this, to congratulate him on his restaurant opening.”

 

“Again, unlike some people,” Baekhyun softly reiterated, which made Kyungsoo nudge him painfully on the ribs. 

 

“Thank you,” Kyungsoo told him shyly, graciously accepting the token.  He quickly reached for a freshly baked croissant at the counter and wrapped it in parchment.  “Here, something to fuel you this morning.”

 

Yixing bowed in appreciation.  “If this pastry tastes the way it smells, this would be heavenly.  I wish you both a good day.”

 

“Bye…” Baekhyun bid breathlessly, as the psychic gave him one last adorable smile before he exited.

 

The next thing Kyungsoo knew, his best friend was hovering over his shoulder, curious to know what Yixing had brought for him.  “Is it a lucky charm?  Wind chimes perhaps?  Yixing once told me they ward off bad energy.”

 

Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and carefully unraveled the wrapping.

 

“Oh, how cute!  It’s a snow globe, with a chef and his boyfriend in it!” Baekhyun gushed. 

 

Kyungsoo swallowed.  What a… peculiar scenario to be depicted in a snow globe.  The chef resembled him a lot, and the kitchen did appear strangely familiar… like the exact replica of Kyungsoo’s kitchen at home. 

 

How would… Yixing know what his home kitchen looked like?

 

And the boyfriend…?  The boyfriend was quite taller than the chef, which would be roughly how Chanyeol’s height difference to Kyungsoo’s in real life.  The boyfriend was affectionately back hugging the chef, just like Chanyeol would whenever he came over—Kyungsoo had given him his door’s passcode and vice versa—and found that Kyungsoo was making him abura soba for dinner. 

 

Suddenly, Kyungsoo’s eyes burned with tears at the memory so he dejectedly set the snow globe down, murmuring that he should get started on cooking, pushing open the kitchen door just a little too strongly.

 

Baekhyun was about to follow him when another customer, someone that Kyungsoo knew all too well, entered the front door.  Of course, Baekhyun had to greet him and take his order.

 

Kyungsoo sniffed as he expertly sliced the onions at incredible speed, using his knuckle to prevent him from cutting his fingers off. 

 

“Bestie, are you crying?” Baekhyun asked wo