“Alright, freshmen, follow me.”

What is supposed to be a great first day of school as a returning student of Seoul National University for Kris Wu turns out to be one of the worst first days of school in history.

Not only is the junior nursing a migraine (courtesy of the hangover from yesterday’s before-the-first-day-of-school drinking party hosted by none other than Kim Jongdae), he has to deal with freshmen who know absolutely nothing of this campus (the job was pushed onto him by none other than Kim Jongdae). Which means introducing the campus in its entirety and having to deal with a headache and sore feet. Not to mention the fact that freshmen don’t understand the concept of ‘questions until after’.

“Um, so, where is the gym?”

“We passed it.” Kris puffs out a sigh, gesturing to his right and continuing to drone on about the rules of the library with a dead face.

“Is there a dance studio?” another voice asks loudly, interrupting rule number three of ‘any book damaged is to be paid for’, not even a minute after the first interruption. Kris clicks his tongue.

“We’re getting there.”

“What about food?”

“You’ll have to look for that yourself. There’s a bunch of cafes and diners all over campus.” The freshman looks dissatisfied by his answer, but Kris’ glare of ‘do-you-really-want-to-go-down-this-ing-road’ settles the topic.

Another thirty minutes of walking and minimal talking passes and the freshmen are becoming restless. Kris also finds himself an inch away from snapping when a question is raised and repeated at least three times.

“Where’s the Law Building?”

Breathe, Kris. Breathe. “We just passed it.”

“What did you say about food again?”

“I already told you about food. You’re gonna have to go look for your own place to eat. This isn’t high school where food is readily available during breaks.”

“Are we going to see the observatory?”

Count to ten, Kris. Just count to ten. “Hell no. You go there on your own time.”

“Can we go to the dorms right after this?”

“No.” Kris answers firmly, finally turning around to glare at all the little s in the eyes. The majority of them stare back blankly and Kris wants to throttle at least twenty of them before he can finally continue the tour in the same half-hearted attempt he’s been doing for the past hour or so. “If your question has something to do with food or when this thing is over or something we passed, I swear—”

“Um, excuse me?”

“What?!”  he very nearly yells as he whirls around to face whoever dared to interrupt him. “Can’t you ing see—”

The guy who had tapped his shoulder—a tall, lean, tan student with attractively dark and messy hair—takes a step back at his biting tone. As the other guy flinches, Kris instantly deflates with a harsh sigh blown out through his nose, and the freshmen go back to chattering happily behind him.

“Err…sorry,” the guy mumbles, scratching the nape of his neck, whilst one hand retires into his front pocket, oblivious to Kris’ judging, bloodshot eyes. His voice is unexpected, soft and lilting with a bit of an accent, but it’s not unpleasant. “I’ve been told to help out with the tour of the campus?” he clears his throat and sort of tilts his head in a questioning manner.

Kris is not in the mood for cute and attractive guys (“But it’s always a good time!” Kai would’ve belted out enthusiastically), and frankly, he’s not in the right attire for it (an old PE shirt and basketball shorts don’t exactly scream ‘date me’). Any other time when Kris wasn’t pissed off beyond belief or had proper hot guy clothes on or wasn’t hung-over, he would’ve been madly flirting like the modern day Casanova he was (“If beauty were time, you’d be eternity!”).

“Oh, good,” Kris sighs again, this time in relief, as his shoulders slump a bit. The other guy blinks as he finally takes in Kris’ disheveled appearance, and Kris kind of wants to crawl under a rock now. “You’re here to take over the tour? Great. Thanks. Bye.”

He’s a little apologetic for brushing the guy off like that, after all he looks like a nice guy (that’s totally his type), but his feet are now throbbing in time with the pounding in his head, and he deduces that isn’t a very good sign with his minimal knowledge of human body health. A good rest and some aspirin and he’d be back to chirpy Kris. Or as chirpy as Kris could get.

And with that thought in mind, he turns on his heel dorm-ward with a timid ‘sorry’ mumbled under his breath. He throws one last apologetic glance at Cute Guy over his shoulder before hurrying away.

“Oh. Um—” the guy watches with wide eyes as Kris turns to leave, the freshmen parting for him easily without question. He coughs. “…good talk.”

Turning to the group of freshmen, he’s surprised to see them already facing him and awaiting his response with highly expectant looks. He clears his throat once more nervously and scratches the back of his neck.

“Um…hey! I’ll be your new tour guide, I guess. My name is Huang Zitao, but you can call me Tao.”

“Taooooooo.” Lay calls out loudly, wandering aimlessly around campus. Both hands are cupped around his mouth as he searches noisily for his best friend. “Tao! Where are you! This isn’t funny, bro. I went to the library and you weren’t there that doesn’t make sense you’re always there c’mon dude—”

Students disperse upon seeing the brunette, each going this way and that. Lay furrows his eyebrows at their uncomfortable expressions and wayward eyes. He shifts the guitar in his hands to sling across his back snuggly. Things just got a little more serious. Or as serious as Lay can get.

“What the heck. Tao? TAO. ZITAO, PLEASE, I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR YOUR SILLY GAMES. We agreed to stop playing hide-and-go-seek since this morning! Tao, please.”

More students fleeing. More shouting. A little bit of mindless guitar playing. Still no Zitao.

Pouting, Lay sits abruptly down on the ground. It’s a little cold under his bum, seeing as its fall (speaking of which, he should really be heading to his first class—), but he pays the weather no mind. He sets his guitar down beside him dejectedly and decides to do some people-watching to pass time. Tao would come find him eventually. He has to. Lay crosses his arms childishly.

Zitao has to, I made a new song and he always is the first to hear it. He has to.

He taps a finger to his temple—ignoring the hung-over tall guy that is walking quickly to his dorm and avoiding all eye contact—thinking hard of places Zitao usually was seen.

The library, the library…the library—

“Zhang Yixing!” a voice finally draws the brunette out of his reverie of books and books and books—a blonde-haired student by the name of Luhan steps out into the guitarist’s line of sight, arms crossed with a faintly irritated and amused expression. “It’s the first day of school. What are you doing?”

Lay huffs as Luhan comes walking over, looking down at him and judging him fairly hard. He squints up at Luhan. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m waiting for Tao.”

“Tao is giving the freshmen a tour of the campus.” Luhan rolls his eyes, lips quirked up slightly. “He won’t be done for at least another thirty minutes. Get to class, Zhang Yixing.”

“’Get to class, Zhang Yixing’ !” Lay reiterates in an exaggeratedly high-pitched tone. Luhan’s lips become a thin line, semi-smile gone, and his eyes become steely. “Uh, no. Don’t tell me what do. I’m waiting here. Shoo.” Lay waves Luhan off dismissively and picks up his guitar again, strumming out shaky notes.

“Zhang Yixing, don’t be ridiculous.” Luhan says, voice as cold as the weather and as flat as the ground. “You can’t even play that.”

“He says I can’t play it!” Lay yelps to a student with wide eyes and red hair sitting nearby on one of the benches that litter the campus. “The nerve!” the student looks away with the same uncomfortable expression as everyone else. Lay turns back to Luhan with a dramatically insulted look. “I can play this instrument of mine very finely, thank you very much. Would you like to hear one of my songs? It’s called ‘Beautiful-ing-Chaos’. It’s great. Rivals Beethoven and all those other rad musicians.” Lay stands up, staggering a bit. “ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR—”

“Zhang Yixing, you know I can report you for coming to school drunk, right? And maybe you’re a little high—let me see your eyes—okay, yeah, you’re a little high.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW ME,” Lay screeches, rapidly strumming his guitar to a tune that rivals satanic incantations. “YOU KNOW MY NAME BUT NOT MY STORY. GO AWAY. BEGONE, YOU DEMON.”

“Yeah, you’re kind of high and drunk. Just a little bit.” Luhan uncrosses his arms to hold up his index finger and thumb with minimum space between them, indicating Lay’s sanity. “A liiiittle bit.” He repeats for emphasis, raising his eyebrows. “C’mon, Zhang Yixing, we’re gonna go to the office.”

Lay flails about with his guitar, swaying left and right, following the beat of something unheard. “MAY THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPEL YOU. CONFESS YOUR SINS.” he declares, before he promptly blacks out.

The red-haired student on the bench, who had been secretly watching the scene unfold behind an architecture textbook, widens his eyes even more and fearfully glances at Luhan…

…who looks more than unimpressed.

“I’m serious, Yixing. Get to class.”

Alarmed, the student stands up from the bench, eyes continuously wide as he calls out, “H-hey…s-shouldn’t he be taken to a hospital or something…?” Nervously, the student puts down his textbook and approaches the pair cautiously. “I…can call for an ambulance right now.” he offers as he holds up his phone awkwardly.

“Nah, he’s fine,” Luhan responds nonchalantly, nudging Lay’s side with his foot. He gets a groan in response. Luhan rolls his eyes. “Oh, c’mon, Lay. Get up. Zitao’s not here. Nobody’s here.”

With a whimper, Lay rolls up from his side and sits up with his legs criss-crossed. The red-haired student jumps when Lay looks at him wonderingly and then at Luhan.

“Aww, dang it. He usually always comes running.” There’s a pitiful pout on his lips as he turns around, eyeing the scenery as though Tao would pop out of nowhere and say ‘Hey! Yixing! I’m here, I’m here!’ which usually would’ve happened if Tao wasn’t on the welcoming committee this year. “You sure?”

“I’m pretty sure.”

“Nobody noticed a thing?”

“Yep.”

“Dude, what. I bet it’s because your acting .” Lay sits up from his slouched position and mocks, “’Zhang Yixing, get to class. Zhang Yixing, don’t be ridiculous. Zhang Yixing, you’re drunk. Zhang Yixing, don’t be a ing . Zhang Yixing, we’re going to the office! Zhang Yixing, Zhang Yixing, Zhang Yixing!’”

Luhan shakes his blonde bangs out of his face and sweeps it to the side, eyes going cross-eyed as he tries to style his hair perfectly. “But I went along with your act, didn’t I?” he sounds astonished by himself and chuckles briefly. “After two years of doing this, only one person bothered to care this time around.” He pats the newcomer’s back appreciatively. “Welcome aboard, mate, to the S.S. We-Really-Hate-the-First-Day-of-School. I’m your Captain, Xi Luhan. Chinese. Computer science major. Not quite at your service.” Luhan reaches out to vigorously shake the beyond confused student’s hand.

“And I’m co-captain—” At Luhan’s glare, Lay’s bright smile dims a little. He sighs and draws out a loud, “Fiiiiiiine. Ship hand. Lay.” He doesn’t sound as excited as when he had first spoken. “Pre-medicine program. What’s your name?” Lay questions curiously as he stands up, no sign of drunkenness as he stands fine and still on his own two feet. His eyes widen when he takes in the shorter’s appearance. “Whoa. Your eyes are biiiiiig.” He imitates his expression by making his eyes impossibly wider.

Luhan rolls his eyes and whacks Lay upside the head. Lay whines.

“I’m…Kyungsoo. Do Kyungsoo. Um. Architect major.” Kyungsoo eyes the two who begin snickering. Nervously, he takes a step back. “What?”

“Architect major! Oh, we really got one this time, didn’t we, Luhan? I’ve just been promoted from ship hand to seaman!” Lay chirps happily and takes both of his hands and shakes it just as vigorously as Luhan had done. “Welcome aboard, ship hand!”

(“Hey, Yixing?”

“Yes, Tao?”

“Promise me you won’t do that thing where you pretend to be drunk and/or high on the first day of school.”

“Who, me? Wow what how could you accuse me of such a thing.”

“I know you do it just to cause trouble on the first day of school. And to get my attention…Ow! Hey!”

“Don’t get cocky.”

“Whatever, dude. But I don’t want you to do it this year, okay? And don’t get Joonmyun involved this time. He told that he would do…bad things to you if you did.”

“What if I want him to do those bad things to me?”

“Yixing!”

“Sorry! …Not…sorry…”

“Oh, and also, please don’t try any of that ‘S.S. I-Hate-School’ thing again. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s funny how you first got Chanyeol and Chen to go along with this but I don’t want anymore requests for a real club to form from that. I’m already kind of busy with this Welcoming Committee stuff. Sorry, buddy. But you know I would create that club on any other day.”

“…It’s the ‘S.S. We-Really-Hate-the-First-Day-of-School’. And you’ll always be our first mate, Tao.”

“Yixing.”

“Less than three.”)