Chapter 47: Cinder

     In the balmy anonymity of the college town's crowds, young people, people Baekhyun's age, chattered and laughed as they passed him on the streets. The sureness of their steps spoke of somewhere to be. Would it last? Was that purpose and happiness merely transient, moments meant to vanish like fine-ground memories into dust?

     Baekhyun was calm, perhaps numb, as he put one foot in front of the other, sidestepping cracks in asphalt that had swollen in summer and cracked in cold months. They spidered forward like wrinkles of time, imminent, inevitable. He followed a deep gouge by roadside down the hill, stepping from one pool of streetlight to the next. In between them, the cracks disappeared along with his footsteps.

     His mind had stopped racing, chasing futile what-if's. It had run its marathon course. Kai, Kai, Kai. He could not fully believe it himself. How had one erstwhile hipster brewed such a tempest that both his and Chanyeol's lives now hung in the balance?

     He knew what he needed to do, what he should do, and what he wanted to do, but none of them matched up. He'd untangled one knot only to find himself in another. He needed to see Chanyeol, to see which thread he pulled.

     Baekhyun pulled his phone from his pocket and keyed a quick message to Chanyeol asking to meet. Then for good measure he sent a voice message as well.

     The noraebang would've taken effort to find on his own if he'd retraced his steps from the barbeque joint. He had been drunk on the way there -- mourning his fight with Jaehee and leaning on Chanyeol's shoulder -- and drunk on the way out. It was despicable, in hindsight. How had he lived with himself? A hot mess, Chanyeol had called him, too forgiving for his own good. Fondly chastising, making him eat, watching over him. Baekhyun's lips turned sadly at the memory. When he had been at his lowest, Chanyeol had provided safe harbor against himself, a warm shoulder to rest on. Now, he leaned on the little happiness he'd stolen that night and tucked it away in his heart. They could take everything else away from him, but his memories were his to keep.

     For all he had done, and all that he hadn't, he felt his time had run out, his episode over. It was not because there was no future for people like them, as he had incorrectly believed. It was because that future wasn't for people like him. It was for braver souls - like Tena, like Chanyeol, and even Kai - who were willing to fight. In that, Kai was right. Baekhyun wasn't one of them, he was as much an outsider as the suit he pretended to be. But that didn't mean he couldn't try and set his wrongs right before he was shown out the door.

     He paid for a room at the noraebang and wove through the labyrinthine halls til he came upon the door that read 24. Inside, red stuffed vinyl couches lined three sides of the room, with a table between them and a large screen on the fourth. He closed the door behind himself and pulled out his phone to send Chanyeol the room number. When he opened the conversation -- which was more a sparse, hapless monologue of his aborted attempts -- he saw that his messages had been read. His heart began to beat faster. He quickly sent one more message, a last stand of faith.

     I'll wait here til morning.

     Settling on the couch to wait, he let out a long breath and tilted his head back against the wall. His lip stung, swollen and ugly; he looked more like a washed up drunk than a high street executive. His eyes slipped closed and he wondered if Chanyeol would come. There were so many things he needed to say - would Chanyeol give him the time? Would he listen? As he felt the sand of sleep tugging at his eyelids, he shook himself awake. To stay alert, he tried listing the many things he needed to say -- wanted to say to Chanyeol. There were questions, too, but they would have to wait. It was past due for him to provide answers, apologies, reparations. He had no right to ask questions, not yet.

     When he woke to a hot stabbing pain in his neck, he realized he'd fallen asleep. Groaning, he rolled the kinks from his shoulders and neck, drawing his arms tighter around himself in the air conditioned space. What time was it? Slowly, his mind ticked toward consciousness. Slivers of light crept under his lashes, red cushioned couches coming into view. Along with a dark figure that hadn't been there before.

     "Chanyeol!" He sat up too quickly, head pounding in protest. "How long were you waiting?" The guitarist was sprawled on the opposite seat, arms crossed and a boot propped on the edge of the table. Though he seemed at ease, all long sideswept hair and lackadaisical posture, a strange tension crackled about him. His eyes were wary and dark as they met Baekhyun's, and a bit of his hard-won determination quailed at the sight.

     He didn't get an answer to his question.

     Mustering courage, Baekhyun rose, crossing to sit beside Chanyeol at a polite distance. "I wasn't sure if you'd come," he said softly, searching Chanyeol's face.

     "Well, I'm here," Chanyeol said, and though his tone was stiff, the deep earthiness of it made something inside Baekhyun melt. He curled his hands into fists to keep from reaching out - the desire to touch, to enfold himself in Chanyeol's warmth and shower him with apologies and reassurances beat hot in his veins. It surprised him, the fierce urge to make sure that Chanyeol was alright, to tear down the walls he'd built between them, brick by brick, til his fingers were bloodied. But the guitarist's guarded eyes stopped him short, and he kept his hands to himself.

     "I have something to tell you. A lot, actually. I don't know where to begin."

     Chanyeol's expression was unmoved and he maintained his silence. Baekhyun would have preferred another fist to the jaw than this stony recalcitrance. He pushed forward before he lost his nerve.

     "I guess I'll start at the beginning. A few weeks ago, my boss asked me if I was involved with a Park Chanyeol. I said no, because I was scared. At the time, I didn't know who you really were, didn't know you had been with the company. That came later... Kris told me. But CEO Park had already filed the suit. He seems convinced that you did this to get back at him, through me. I didn't know what to do at the time. Jessica and Kris and I put our heads together and tried to figure out who did this, and tried to find a way to stop it, but CEO Park's on a mission. None of us can stop him."

     Baekhyun paused to look at Chanyeol. The guitarist was listening, but his eyes were indecipherable. 

     "The thing is," he said, drawing a shallow breath to bring strength back into his voice, "I found out who did it."

     Chanyeol's brow furrowed. "You did?"

     "I just found out tonight. But, before I tell you, I need you to know one thing. You can win this case. All you have to do is show them any evidence you have. My calls, my texts, anything you want. It should swing in your favor and you'll walk out untouched."

     Chanyeol's eyes narrowe