That Friday, I lay in bed and gazed absently on the little red alarm clock sitting on my bedside table, watching the hands tick away. There was approximately two hours before the competition started. I felt my chest start to bloom as I recalled the day when Luhan had personally invited me to come. My mind kept flashing back to the day I first met him, to his incredible showcase and the love he showed for performing in front of an audience. I was excited to see him in him dance again, to see him back in his game.

I rolled over and reached for my iPod. I already had my outfit for this evening planned, and I wasn’t planning on dressing up so flamboyantly. I had nothing to do but wait for the next hour to pass and for Jongdae to get out of the bathroom.

My brother may be a boy, but he took an extremely long time whenever he showered, especially after some sort activity that involved physical exertion and sweat. Besides, he practically held concerts in there. He would never come out until he finished at least four songs in four different genres, including cutesy girl group songs that he belted out with incredible passion. The evil little me had everything recorded, ready to be divulged to his future girlfriend.

I pressed play and ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ started playing through my headphones. I chuckled, recalling the day Baekhyun sung his rendition of the song in the music room. It had been a private performance, held in my favour as an attempt to appease me and so that he could return to my good graces. Baekhyun always had a way to make me forgive him. He’d come up with the most funniest things to say and also the craziest schemes, so amusing that my anger at him immediately evaporated and I couldn’t resist laughing.

Soojin was lucky that he liked her. Baekhyun was kind and funny, talented and jovial. He treated girls with respect and was a loyal friend; I know with all my heart that he would never abandon me. He may be silly sometimes but he was incredibly charming and good-looking. A lot of my cousins had instant crushes on him when I first introduced him to them. Any girl would be lucky to have him, and I knew that if she managed to win his heart, he would do anything for her, would love and cherish her as best as he could.

There was a pang in my heart. How would it be if Baekhyun and I weren’t just merely ‘best friends’? If we became more than that, would things change?

I imagined Baekhyun looking at me with love in his eyes, holding my hand as if I was as delicate and fragile as a flower. If he loved me, I would never have to worry about losing him, about having another person step between us while he slowly drifted away from me.

I tore off the headphones, cutting off the song in the middle of the chorus. No, I can’t afford to even think about it. I can’t afford to imagine what could never happen, to hope for something so foolish when he’s in love with someone else.

I can’t fall for him.

That’s ridiculous, another voice, different from the first said. You won’t fall for him because you like Luhan.

My breathing steadied and I could feel my heart slow. Yes, that’s right. I liked Luhan. Luhan, the beautiful boy who I met at the Dance Stage. Luhan, who I had lunch with on the school rooftop. Luhan, who invited me to watch him compete at a dance competition.

I rubbed my temples as I tried to get my thoughts straight.

Just then, my cell phone beeped, indicating that I just received a message. Gingerly, I picked it up from beside my pillow and stared at the name below the little mail sign.

Baekhyun.

I opened up the message and read the contents:

From Baekhyun:

Are you going to the dance competition?

My fingers shook as I typed. He knew the answer. Why did he ask again?

From Yoora:

Yeah.

My phone was silent for five minutes before he answered.

From Baekhyun:

Is he picking you up?

From Yoora:

No. I’ll meet him there.

From Baekhyun:

Will you be okay going alone?

From Yoora:

It’s not far. I’ll be perfectly fine.

From Baekhyun:

But the competition’s at night. It’ll be dark once you get there and dangerous too. Forget it, I’ll take you there.

 I was touched by his concern and gallantry.

From Yoora:

Friday nights are your family dinners. I’ll be okay. I can ask Jongdae to come with me.

From Baekhyun:

It’ll be fine. I’ll be over in 45 minutes.

I supposed there was no arguing with him. I snapped my phone shut and sighed. Knowing how persistent Baekhyun could be, I got up and grabbed my towel, ready to shuffle off to the bathroom and scream at Jongdae to hurry up.

The doorbell rang exactly forty-five minutes later, while I was busy fixing my hair in front of the hallway mirror. I glanced at the door and grabbed my purse, smoothing my hair down one last time before I threw the door open.

Baekhyun’s figure was illuminated by the dim light bulb hanging over his head. It threw shadows onto his face, darkening his eyes and softening his features. He wore worn jeans and his favourite T-Shirt, his wrist adorned with multicoloured bracelets and the neon green watch that he always wore. He smiled at me when he saw me.

“Ready?” he asked.

I stepped out, closing the door behind me and slipping my key in my pocket. I could still hear the sound of the blaring TV, muffled by the door, from inside. Jongdae was flipping through the channels, alternating between Music Bank and some sort of animal documentary.

“You don’t have to do this,” I said, stepping out of the porch.

“I want to,” Baekhyun stated calmly, following me.

“You’ll miss dinner,” I pointed out.

“Nothing that can’t be heated up.”

I sighed in frustration and trudged down the garden. To admit the truth, I was trying to get him to go home so that I could walk and wallow in my thoughts about him without him being physically present while I was doing it. I had been doing that a lot lately, thinking about him.

“Is it a big scale competition?” Baekhyun asked. I noted it as an attempt to initiate a conversation.

“Quite. I looked it up on the internet. Turns out there’ll be lot of groups performing, along with several individual performances.”

“Really?” Baekhyun frowned. “How come I’ve never heard of it?”

“It’s a sudden thing. It’s sort of exclusive so only people who attend dance classes or live off dancing know about it.”

Baekhyun nodded.

“And get this,” I said, turning to him as I remembered something that made my jaw drop when I first saw it on the net. “Kim Jongin’s participating too.”

Baekhyun nodded absently.

I raised my brows at him. “How come you’re not surprised?”

“Yoo, he’s a dancer. Everyone in school knows that,” Baekhyun said.

 “He is?”

Baekhyun looked amused by my expression. “Has been ever since the beginning.”

“How come I never knew?”

Baekhyun tapped his chin. “Maybe because you have an extremely limited social circle?”

I frowned and reached out to whack him in the arm. “I do not!”

“It’s been going on in school for years now. How can you not know?” he asked as he pouted and rubbed his arm.

“I guess it’s because I don’t pay attention to gossip,” I said defiantly.

“It’s not gossip if it’s the truth. Come on Yoo,” he said, his voice turning characteristically playful, “admit that you’ve been living under a rock.”

I scowled at him and crossed my arms across my chest. “Alright, fine. Maybe that’s true.”

 Baekhyun threw back his head and laughed. “Yeah, maybe.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. We were silent for a while.

“Hey, how are things going on with Soojin?” I asked quietly.

“Fine,” Baekhyun replied.

I raised my brows at his curt response. “No steady development?”

Baekhyun gazed at the ground, sighing. “No, there is, but it’s just that... I don’t know –” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “There’re a lot of things in my mind right now. I’m just really confused.”

 “Baek, do you have a problem?” I asked gently. “You know you can tell me anything right?”

“Yeah,” Baekhyun said, averting his gaze from mine. “Just not now. Not this.”

I bit my tongue to keep myself from saying anything. I could offer him my shoulder to cry on if he needed it; whether or not he chose to accept me as a confidante was up to him entirely.

“Alright,” I said softly. “Tell me when you feel it’s alright. You can count on me.”

Baekhyun didn’t answer but kept his eyes trained on the ground. His breathing was quick, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if he was trying to suppress some sort of emotion. Whatever bothering him was tearing him apart, breaking him to pieces.

“Hey.” I managed to get his attention. He turned his head to me, his confused eyes wavering like a child’s.

I smiled and held out my hand. “Here, if this makes you feel better.”

That had always been how I comforted him when we were children. Sometimes, when he got scolded by his uptight grandmother, I would find him crying under our tree, chin pressed against his chest as tears rolled down his cheeks. I’d sit next to him and hold his hand. He would grip it –grip it as hard as he could as if his life depended on it. Our intertwined fingers were like a bridge, a connection that linked us together. We found solace in one another, acted as each other’s anchors when one spiralled into the void of tangled emotions.

Baekhyun’s eyes darted towards my hand. Slowly, he withdrew his tightly curled fingers from his pocket and took it. I gave him a reassuring squeeze, hoping to convey the silent message that he could rely on me.

The same jolt that shot up my arm that day when I shook his hand rushed through my body now, and it felt nice to me.

Baekhyun smiled, the shadow of doubt in his eyes clearing to show the twinkle of relief. Together, we walked down the street, laughing at each other’s stories, reassured that nothing could tear apart the bond that existed between the two of us.