War and Peace.

For those who have read Leo Tolstoy, you would know that he had an innate tendency to come up with irritatingly long names. Maybe it’s just Russia, I don’t know, but really – what’s wrong with… Aleks Popov or maybe Maria Ketrov? But no. He goes with Anna Karenina, Prince Vasili Kuragin, Anna Pavlovna Scherer, Prince Nicholas Bolkonski and heck, one of them was called Princess Darya Alexandrovna Oblonsky.

Can you imagine the number of words one would need just to describe that woman’s taste in food?

Princess Darya Alexandrovna Oblonsky had a prejudiced taste for beet-less borscht.

Holy .

That’s 11 words already. 50 of that on the typewriter, and you have a page.

Hence, Yixing’s lying there in a heap of books, the last words he ever read before he had all wind knocked out of him circulating his head like cow bells. Then, he shook them off, a kind of ringing in both ears as he looked down at the culprit – a huge, hard-bound leather copy of War and Peace resting on his abs.

Groaning, he shoved the 2-ton culprit off him and scrambled to his feet, glancing around in confusion.

“Wha…” he blinked, taking in the heavily-cobwebbed ceilings of the massive, multi-layered library, “where am I?” Then, he turned to find Zelo and Baekhyun, sitting in a corner with their eyes wide, staring straight at him.

“Zelo?”

“Y-yixing?” Baekhyun looked at him tentatively, “is that you?”

“What do you mean, is it me? Are you drunk or something?” Lay nudged a book out of his path with the side of his feet, “where are we? I thought we were supposed to be at the photoshoot?”

“Oh my god,” Zelo blinked, “it’s really him.”

“I sincerely thought that he was going to be drunk forever.” Aaron wiped away a tear. Zelo and Baekhyun turned to look at him.

“…where did you come from, kid.”

“Your mum’s house.”

“Wait.” Baekhyun interrupted indignantly, “I don’t believe this. He’s probably adopted yet another one of those other characters in his head. What’s your name?”

“What the heck is that supposed to mean…”

“Just answer it.” Zelo snapped and Yixing flinched at his rudeness. But then again, he was Chinese, so he recovered fairly quickly, throwing furtive glances at the maknae of BAP.

“Zhang Yixing.”

“Symbol in EXO?”

“Unicorn that heals. My publicist still sends me fanfictions of unicorns and horses.”

Silence.

“Hyung,” Zelo murmured, “I’m pretty sure you should sue.”

“What’s your favourite pastime?”

“Watching my straight friends gradually become less straight,” Yixing replied confidently. Then he glanced at Zelo apologetically, “yeah that’s sadly true.”

Zelo blinked.

“Yixing!” Jongdae gave an over-dramatized squeal and wrapped his arms around his EXO-M member, pulling him in a tight bear-hug, “I thought you’d be drunk forever, man. I’m so glad.”

*

Chanyeol was planting trees.

No, that was not a reference to anything, nor is it a slang. There seemed no better way of putting this mundane exercise in environmental benefit… hey, maybe there might be.

Chanyeol was carrying out the production slash manufacturing of leafy foliage in freshly-turned out earth for the preservation and conservation of the environment.

No.

Chanyeol was planting trees.

And that wasn’t because he was concerned about the preservation and conservation of the environment either. Not that he was particularly unconcerned though, it was just not on his list of Samaritan deeds for the day. Or week. Or year. Heck, trees annoy him anyway. Give him a flower, or a bush, or even a shrub, but no trees. Those things attracted squirrels and whilst red squirrels are adorable, the more likely grey alternative were as much as good to him as shot. (He was attacked by one once, and he was just trying to take a selfie.)

No, he was planting a tree because he just happened to sit on one that conveniently belonged to the very kid that he kept slamming the door on. He had been trying to get that stupid cat he and Kris rescued off the fence when due to Kris’ lack of shoulder strength, lost his balance and crashed into the flower garden next door, his derriere crushing the infant tree with all his glute muscles. In front of all the children.

Calamity ensued, and Samuel was then adamant that Chanyeol had come from hell to test his patience.

Seeming that no words of his own could convince Samuel otherwise, he apologetically, yet disgruntledly (his fingernails were manicured for crying out loud) picked up a rake and forks, and started to fix the damage, Sister Rosaria timidly handing him a fresh bag of seeds.

“Oh, and I hope you die, by the way.” Chanyeol addressed the ungrateful cat, now watching him from atop a branch.

He was barely done scattering the seeds into the ground when Yixing, Daehyun and Tao appeared next to Kris, who was sitting on the fence watching, occasionally throwing him words/shouts of encouragement in English. Which made it more irritating, because despite him being raised in Canada, his accent was extremely obnoxious.

“Hey Dae,” Chanyeol acknowledged the latter, and Daehyun waved cheerily, holding a bottle of green tea in his hands.

“Uh, we’re here too,” Yixing pointed out and Chanyeol looked up at him, bemused.

“Since when can you talk to us without twitching?”

“What are you talking about, I don’t twitch.”

Chanyeol stared.

“You’ve been twitching all day, Yixing. What’s up with him?” He addressed Tao and he grinned.

“He sobered up.”

“No freaking way.”

“Yeah, he’s hung over though, so he’s a little cranky.”

“Huh,” Chanyeol dug into the dirt, “good to have you back, Yixing… ARGH!” He suddenly winced as he wiped his hand on his jeans, smearing the expensive material with fresh, dark red. Kris leapt off the fence, walked over to the back door of the convent and reached in with long arms, producing a brown bottle. Then, he pranced back and handed it to Chanyeol.

“Here, pour alcohol on it.”

“I got some notifications from my publicist in China,” Yixing leaned against the fence, eyes half-open, “apparently my new interview in Guangzhou hit record views. But the some of the comments are bashing.”

Tao, Kris and Chanyeol looked at him – Yixing never read comments, he just never used to care.

“Though I’m quite thankful to haters. They’re quite concerned about me,” Yixing looked at his nails, “they watch my shows and start talking about me, like… declaring that they won’t watch my shows anymore.”

Daehyun raised an eyebrow.

“But in order for them to bash me, they end up having to watch my shows for material.”

“Hey,” Tao’s eyebrow furrowed, “wait, that sounds familiar.”

“Very nice,” Yixing blew on his nails and looked at them all condescendingly.

“Oh for ’s sake,” Chanyeol stabbed the fork into the ground and groaned, “he’s turned into Tao, you idiots.”

“No wonder he’s been such a pain in the ,” Daehyun scooted away in disgust.

“Excuse me.” Tao glowered.

“What are you talking about, this is me. This has always been me!” Yixing looked around at them, eyes still half-closed, though not from any hangover, “if you all paid more attention to me instead of Kai all the time (since I am lead dancer) then you would understand my true feelings.”

“D-did you just call Jongin Kai?”

“And I realised that I haven’t been talking about my feelings a lot,” Yixing’s eye began to well up with tears, “and some things hurt me without…”

“That’s it.” Chanyeol straightened up and positively hurled whiskey out of the bottle in his hand in Yixing’s face. Yixing choked and sputtered, blinked in horror, before his eyes rolled to the back of his head and his entire torso clattered to the floor.

“One of these days you guys are going to kill him.” Daehyun observed drily from a corner.

“He’s not waking up.” Kris poked Yixing’s head with a toe.

“Let him sleep.”

*

“Can you teach me how to dance?”

Luhan and Jongup looked up from SISTAR’s legs, over the laptop towards the child who was standing at the doorway and immediately the former slammed the screen down, unconventionally beginning to whistle.

“Pardon?” Jongup hadn’t recovered.

“Teach me to dance? I asked Yongguk and he said you guys were the best people to ask.” Aaron looked quite shy, scraping the floor with his feet.

“Oh, sure.” Jongup looked pleased at the recommendation and stood up, “what kind of dance would you like to learn?”

“Hold up hold up hold up,” Luhan grinned, “this is about Penny, isn’t it?”

Aaron immediately shook his head, turning a shade of colour deeper.

“I knew you had a thing for her,” Luhan laughed, nudging Jongup, “I told you.”

“Would you like to dance with her?” Jongup asked, folding his legs together as he sat on the armrest of the sofa, “or would you like to learn something to impress her?”

“Something cool,” Aaron lightened up, “something that will make…” he trailed off and blushed again.

“Six-years-old and he’s got game,” Jongup sighed at Luhan, “when I was that age, I wrote a letter to my crush asking her to get out of my school.”

Luhan and Aaron stared judgingly at him.

“When I was that age,” Luhan gave them both the hairy-eye, “I collected Pokémon like a normal infant.”

Jongup and Aaron looked somewhat ashamed.

“Anyway,” Jongup jumped off the rest and scrolled through his phone, “let’s start with something simple.” Calvin Harris’ Summer began to play and Jongup slid the brim of his baseball cap to the back and began to demonstrate in front of them, Luhan snapping his fingers to the beat as he watched. When Jongup was done with his freestyling, he and Luhan began to point out with moves would be better replaced by simpler ones (like the bit where Jongup started to spin on the ground), Luhan occasionally throwing out a few moves. They would work really well as partnered choreographers, Luhan thought, and when they finalised the chorus, Jongup pulled Aaron next to him.

“Now we’re going to start with this move. It’s got six parts, and I’m going to count in fives, okay? One, two, three, four, five,” he showed Aaron, Luhan helping the kid position himself by the side.

“Again, one, two, three, four, five. That’s great. Again,” Jongup seemed really excited as he watched Aaron mirror him. The kid seemed happy.

But an hour later, Aaron was a lot less happy.

“But I’m tired.” Aaron groaned, “I need water.”

“You’ve only been practising for 63 minutes!” Jongup was indignantly mortified, as Luhan snored in a corner, “when I was a trainee, I practised for 9 hours a day.”

“No wonder you have no future.”

Luhan opened his mouth in indignation but then closed it and hung his head in shame. Jongup didn’t seem to hear.

“Come on, kid. 57 more minutes and I’ll buy you a popsicle.”

“Do I look three? I want 10 Snickers.”

“5 popsicles.”

“15.”

“5 popsicles and I’ll throw in a Mars bar.”

“7 Snickers and a Mars bar.”

“One Haagen-Dazs,” Luhan interrupted impatiently, “and you get 5 minutes’ toilet break.”

“Deal.”

“Come on kid,” Jongup clapped his hands together, “if Kris and Chen can do this, so can you.”

Outside, Kris and Jongdae sneezed.

*

Nightfall came sooner than the members of EXO and BAP imagined, as they huddled around a newly built bonfire courtesy of teamwork, good management and a gas lighter. The children and nun had all gone to sleep, leaving them with the lawn all to themselves.

Oh, and it was 5 minutes to Jong Up’s birthday.

As soon as the electronic watches beeped, Jongup inhaled slowly as a chorus of cheerful happy birthdays rang in the air, followed by an overdramatic smash of a cake into his face, cheers drowning his hacking and coughing (idiot didn’t hold his breath and he laughed when he saw the cake coming). Then, Sehun reached behind Minseok and produced another cake, less damaged but very haphazardly decorated and made by Junmyeon and Himchan. Who am I kidding, they went crazy with the icing, whipped cream and sprinkles.

“Make a wish, Jongup.” Tao slapped his hands together like seals and Jongup grinned, closed his eyes and blew out the solo candle on the chocolate mountain of mess. Then, 19 forks shone in the night as they collectively stabbed into the cake.

“Is this wheat flour?” Tao chewed, “because normal flour makes my face puffy.”

Yongguk looked at him, back at Junmyeon and then back at him again.

“Remember when men used to carry swords?”

“…is that a derogatory reference to my masculinity?”

Yongguk frowned.

“It’s derogatory,” he analysed slowly, “but it’s not a reference. It’s criticism.”

“Ah.” Tao seemed settled, until they sank in and he kicked the BAP leader in the shin.

“I can’t believe Jongup’s 19 now,” Daehyun shook his head, “like… wow.”

“We met when Jong was 16,” Zelo wrapped an arm around his best friend’s shoulder, “I can honestly say we’ve kind of made it.” Everyone murmured in agreement good-naturedly, except one particular person.

“Hey,” Luhan refered to him cautiously, “is Yixing still stoned?”

“No, he actually reverted to fanboy Yixing this evening. But he’s been a little quiet the past few minutes.” Kris whispered back.

“Hey, are you okay?” Chanyeol nudged him.

He blinked and smiled up at everyone.

“The secret to well-being is peace, contentment and an everlasting thirst for knowledge.”

Silence.

It was broken by a timid ‘thank you’ from Jongup and he sank back into thoughtful silence.

“That was…” Baekhyun looked lost for words for the first time, “that was the deepest Yixing’s ever landed on us.”

“Hey,” Junmyeon raised a mug with a smile, “here’s to Jongup, and I can honest say I’m glad TS found you.”

Jongup turned a shade darker and returned the toast.

“To Jongup,” everyone echoed.

*

Daehyun

Online

Sehun, I am warning you.

01:00AM ✓✓

Lol

01:00AM✓✓

Give them back.

01:00AM ✓✓

Urm, I don’t think so.

01:00AM ✓✓

More importantly, I don’t want to. So, no.

01:01AM ✓✓

Okay, that’s it. That’s going to be my answer

for everything you ask me today.

01:02AM ✓✓

Okay

01:03AM ✓✓

Do you think handicapped people are

functioning members of our society?

01:04AM ✓✓

I’m coming to your room to

whup yo

01:05AM ✓✓

*