Yifan walked into his office lobby, thick eyebrows furrowed like always, dodging the mass of humans that seemed to always preoccupy Market Values. He tried to balance the tumbler on his right hand and messenger bag on the other hand while attempting to avoid any contact with other people. It wasn’t that hard though; every regular in Market Values knew to keep at least a meter distance from the editor in chief.

“Good morning, Mr. Wu!” Kim Minseok, the receptionist chirped when Yifan was passing him. The said man only grunted in response.

Unfortunately for the tall blonde man, the elevator today was especially crowded. Yifan always preferred to have the carriage for himself but with the rush in his workplace, it was almost impossible. He breathed through his mouth not wanting to be bombarded by multiple human scents.

When he reached his floor, he quickly stepped out. He sniffed at himself and pulled out a bottle of perfume from his bag (while still keeping his tumbler balanced). He sprayed the perfume to the thin air and walked through the mist. He sniffed at himself again. Better.

“Thank God you’re here!” Park Chanyeol, his assistant, was running toward him.

“What’s wrong?”

“There are some new developments regarding that market trend article for next edition.” Chanyeol showed him a bundle of paper filled with charts and diagrams. Yifan handed his tumbler to Chanyeol, who readily accepted it, before opening his messenger bag once again to take his leather gloves out. He put them on and took the papers from Chanyeol.

“This report was dated yesterday,” Yifan grumbled. “Why do you choose to tell me this now when the deadline is only two days away?”

Chanyeol cowered. “I... I kind of forget?”

“Forget?” Yifan asked. His eyes narrowed. “Forget?”

“Boss...” Chanyeol started, but Yifan cut him.

“I want you to understand, kid,” Yifan’s tone calm but poisonous. “This is a very difficult job, which you might be totally wrong for it. One little mistake like forgetting can put this holy magazine on the chopping block. Do you get me, my dear?”

 “Y... Yea... Yeah?” The poor guy tried his best not to hyperventilate.

“Good.” Yifan continued to pace into his office, Chanyeol in tow.

Yifan’s office was a moderate size room but had a great view of Seoul’s downtown (though Yifan didn’t care one bit about beautiful view). It was only simply furnished but extraordinary neat. He walked around, checking whether there was a single dust left unclean. Satisfied, he sat down behind his desk.

“Now, I want you to run to Design and tell them to postpone working on page 120 till 127,” Yifan said. “And cancel every plan I have for until lunchtime today while I’m working on this new data you have the gut of forgetting to mention to me.”

“I...” Chanyeol opened his mouth but was cut off once again.

“One mistake means you have to work five times harder. And faster. Go!”

After Chanyeol went away (practically sprinting in his haste), Yifan let out a very dejected sigh. Humans are not reliable. At all.

Humans are not reliable, Yifan repeated. It was not even ten o’clock yet, but his subordinates already made Yifan wanting to bang his head on the hardest surface he could find.

“Oh Sehun! Fifty typos in five pages!?” Yifan hollered. He waved the article Sehun gave him earlier that day frantically. “What exactly are you trying to accomplish, kid?”

Sehun scrambled on his feet and took the papers from Yifan.

“Yah, Kim Jongdae! Where’s the article I asked you to re-edit last night?” Yifan turned to Jongdae who gaped at him, obviously stricken.

“It’s on the way!” Jongdae shrieked, and quickly averted his gaze back on his monitor.

Yifan closed his eyes and pinched his nose bridge. Why in the hell he was stuck in department full of incompetent people? How could they have been admitted to Market Values at the first place? His department was the heart of this place, for god sake.

“Boss!” Chanyeol ran toward him with a paper bag dangling in his hand.

“What?”

“I bought the ham and cheese sandwich you asked!” Chanyeol offered the bag to him.

“PARK-CHAN-YEOL! I asked for ham sandwich!” Yifan growled. “Just ham, no cheese!”

“Dang it!” Chanyeol ran away, obviously went back to the restaurant where he bought the sandwich.

“Ugh, Mr. Wu?” Sehun hesitantly called him.

“What again?” Yifan snapped.

“Lu... I mean Head of HR Division called for you.”

 

 

 

Lu Han was fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat. He wished that he didn’t have to be the one who broke the news to Yifan. He knew that the blonde probably (well, mostly) wouldn’t take it well.

There a knock on the door before it was opened. Lu Han quickly grabbed anything within his reach. By the time Yifan entered his office, Lu Han already had newspaper in his hand, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“It will look more convincing if you turn the newspaper upside down,” Yifan mumbled.

Lu Han calmly turned the newspaper so the words finally readable.

“So,” Yifan walked closer, “what is it about?”

“Sit down first, Yifan,” Lu Han said.

“I have no time for this, okay?” Yifan crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I have this freaking article I need to finish before 2. You better tell me right now whether they want to fire me or cut my paycheck.”

“Geez, calm down a lil’ bit.” Lu Han finally put down his useless prop. “It has nothing to do with your job, okay, you’re doing very good as an editor.”

“Then why the hell am I here?!”

“Have you ever thought about getting some help again?” Lu Han blurted. Might as well went straight to the point.

“Help?” Yifan repeated as if he didn’t hear clear enough.

“Yes, help.”

“And what the does that suppose to mean?” Lu Han had been Yifan’s colleague for years, the closest thing for ‘friend’ in Yifan’s dictionary. They knew not to use any restraint in their conversation when they were left alone.

“I don’t really feel comfortable saying this to you, but you should see some professional,” Lu Han said, softly. “Things get a little bit out of hand, or so I heard.”

“You must have heard some juicy information from the .”

“Sehun’s already 24, okay!” Lu Han looked incredibly annoyed. “I wish people stop calling him that.”

“We can never get over the fact that you dated him since he was a college freshman.” Yifan shrugged.

“Anyway,” Lu Han tried to get the conversation back on track. “I really think you should get some help. Your condition is getting worse after Byun Baekhyun.”

“Condition?” Yifan’s tone dropped low indicating the tornado happened deep within him. “Byun Baekhyun?”

Unfortunately, Lu Han wasn’t a person who was easily intimidated by the editor. He rummaged through the pile of papers in front of him and pulled out a business card. The deer-looking man slid the card over his desk, closer to Yifan. “Take it!”

“I don’t bring my gloves.” Yifan reasoned, but he saw Lu Han’s steady gaze and sighed. He took the card, gingerly, and read it. Dr. Do Kyungsoo. Psychiatrist.

“This one is pretty young, I heard,” Lu Han said. “You always stopped going because your irrelevant ramblings that your previous therapists smelled like death.”

“They did,” Yifan muttered wryly. His previous therapists were ancient as artifacts and very wrinkly, Yifan wondered why they hadn’t retired yet. “I don’t need this.” He handed the card back to Lu Han, but the man crossed his arms with a stubborn expression.

“Please, rethink it Yifan,” Lu Han pleaded. “You’ve excluded yourself from social life. You’re easily irritated these days. Your cleanliness habit goes a bit overwhelming.”

“I’ve always been like this.”

“As your friend,” Lu Han said, “I’m begging you to consider it. You know that I always want the best for you. So, please.”

Yifan sighed and kept the card in his pocket.

Lu Han smiled at him. “Thanks.” Because even if Yifan was distancing himself from others, Lu Han would always care for him. He just wanted his friend to get better and be happy.

 

 

Five minutes later, Yifan was already in the elevator on his way back to his office. The card in his pocket from earlier weighing him down. He didn’t believe that Lu Han suggested him to get some professional help. Yifan was fine. He needed no drugs or any sort of behavior modification his therapists seemed to love to do.

Well, he might be a bit of clean-freak. And he preferred the solitude in his apartment rather than socializing with humans. But otherwise he was fine. Perfectly fine.

That was when the elevator door opened, and there he was. Byun Baekhyun. The source of most internal turmoil Yifan kept experiencing these days. Standing there, adorable as always, looking stunned because the unexpected encounter. It took only few seconds for Baekhyun to break into a smile and got into the carriage.

“Hey, Yifan,” Baekhyun greeted warmly, thin finger pressed the elevator button. The doors closed and the carriage moved upward. “I hardly see you nowadays.”

“It’s been hectic,” Yifan answered rather coolly.

“It’s always hectic for you,” Baekhyun commented. Yifan didn’t reply.

The elevator stopped. Baekhyun turned to Yifan. “I should get going,” he said. When Yifan only gave him a curt nod, the smaller man sighed and went out.

 “... been dating for a whole month,” Yifan heard Chanyeol’s voice when he reached his department.

“Seriously, Byun Baekhyun and that Kim Jongin from IT?” Yifan’s steps halted at Jongdae’s words. “Wow, Baekhyun is surely fast.”

“He and Yifan have been breaking up for more than two months,” Sehun said. “So it isn’t exactly...” The stoic face guy almost choked when he saw Yifan walking closer. There were two following gasps from Jongdae and Chanyeol.

“I didn’t know that it’s recess period,” Yifan sounded so calm. Too calm in the trio ears.

“It’s... It’s not...” Chanyeol started to explain but Yifan had already walked away.

 

 

Impulses. Yifan had a handful of them. Maybe more. Impulse to wash his hands at least three times after he got home. Impulse to avoid any crack on the pavement. Impulse to turn on every lamp in his apartment before he went to sleep. Impulse to wake up at 4 a.m. everyday so he would have enough time to take two hours long shower and another hour for hair styling.

Yifan didn’t know when those urges started controlling him. No, not controlling. Yifan refused to think that the impulses controlling him. He felt like he had them since forever. He complied to them because he wanted to. After all, he felt wrong whenever he didn’t answer to his urges. There was always a twisted feeling in his stomach when he forgot to wear white shirt on Wednesday, or when he didn’t break his chopstick exactly in half.

He built his life around those impulses.

Then, Byun Baekhyun entered the picture.

Everything was perfect at first, Yifan recalled. Baekhyun was able to understand Yifan’s ‘antics’. They knew each other for two years prior to their relationship. But then, it wasn’t fine anymore.

“Did you just shower?” Baekhyun asked, taken aback.

“Yes, what’s wrong?” Yifan sat on the couch, towel perched on his shoulders. “You should too.”

“You showered,” Baekhyun said disbelief. “After hugging me.”

“You said you just doing voluntary work in that dog shelter.” Yifan shrugged. “We know how unsanitary that place could be.”

“Unsanitary?”

“Get some shower,” Yifan replied. He stood up and gestured Baekhyun to follow him to his room, but the smaller guy remained on his place. “What’s wrong, Baek?” Yifan frowned at his boyfriend.

There was a pause before, “If I was having a very bad day at work and some random car had the audacity to make my day worse by running on some puddle on the road and made me wet all over. I arrived at your apartment crying uglily, wet, and dirty. What will you do?”

“What is your point?” Yifan’s frown deepened.

“Just answer me!”

“I’ll make you have a shower first,” Yifan answered. “You could get sick.”

Baekhyun nodded as if he had expected his answer. Yifan extended his hand to him (he could always wash his hand later), but Baekhyun backed away. The tiny guy shook his head.

“I’m sorry but I think we can’t continue this,” Baekhyun whispered.

“What do you mean?” Yifan tensed.

“Let’s both stop.” Baekhyun sighed. “I thought I can do this, but I can’t. Not anymore.”

“You want to break up?”

“I want us to just stay as friends.”

“What’s the difference?” Yifan gritted his teeth.

“I just...” Baekhyun’s voice trembled. “I can’t handle this. I can’t handle you.”

“So this is my fault, huh?”

Baekhyun shook his head again. “I just need someone who is ready to give me a hug whenever I need it. I need someone who can give me that reassurance regardless the state I’m in. And...”

“And I can’t give you that,” Yifan said, drily. “I understand. Let’s stop it here.”

“I want us to stay friends.” Yifan could see tears in Baekhyun’s eyes.

“Sure.” Yifan averted his gaze from Baekhyun. Out of many things that Yifan hated, Yifan couldn’t stand tears the most. “We can.”  

But he couldn’t, Yifan thought when he was alone again in his too-organized apartment (as his colleagues stated), he couldn’t. He felt like someone stabbing at his heart repeatedly. He felt his gut twisted and stomach clenched. He had to struggle breathing. It was a very nasty feeling he never felt before. It was his first heartbreak, and he knew not to experience it ever again.

Yifan knew that Baekhyun tried to mend things up with him. The small guy always acted casual and friendly around him after they separated. But Yifan being Yifan, couldn’t afford to act like him. So he started to avoid Baekhyun like a plague because he couldn’t stand Baekhyun hurt expression whenever he only grunted in response of his jokes or just replied shortly to his questions. He limited his visit to Design (where Baekhyun resided) and sent the very unreliable Chanyeol instead.

The blonde already knew about the brunette relationship with the young tan male from the IT Division. He, unfortunately, had to witness them by himself. It was one rare occasion he decided to go out doing some groceries shopping. And there they were: holding hands and smiling dreamily at each other while pushing the shopping cart. Yifan was so stunned that he, six-feet-tall 28 years old man already at the peak of his career, had to crouch down behind the display of cereal boxes.

Love is nasty, Yifan thought as he lied on the comforter. People are not going to always stay.

He couldn’t sleep well that night and woke up with a bad feeling in his stomach and sweat running across his body.

 

 

The sound of his cell phone went off made Chanyeol jolted awake. He began searching frantically for the phone on the night stand, eyes only half-opened, knocking down things here and there. Once found, he pressed ‘Answer’ and brought the phone to his ear.

“Hello?” Chanyeol greeted. He could only hear some rustling breathe from the other line.

“Babe?” Zitao called him with sleep-heavy voice. “Who’s calling?”

Chanyeol distanced the phone from his ear to check on the caller. His boss.

O-oh. This couldn’t be good.

“Boss?” Chanyeol quickly pressed the phone to his ear once again. “Hello? What’s wrong?”

“Chan... Chanyeol...” Yifan finally answered though it sounded like he was just finished a rally.

“What’s wrong?”

“You better tell him to off.” Zitao grumbled. “Calling his assistant at three in the morning in is a fundamental right violat...”

Chanyeol pinched his boyfriend thigh to shut him up. Zitao groaned loudly. Chanyeol quickly caressed the red mark his nails left.

“I’m just...” Yifan sighed. “I... I didn’t mean to disturb your sleep. But... I...”

Okay. That was definitely not normal. Wu Yifan didn’t stutter. Or lost for words.

“Just tell me and we’ll see if I can help.” Chanyeol tried to make his voice as soothing as possible.

“Everything just wrong! The place, the clothes, the people! And ME! I’d never ever wear pink leggings nor having my hair styled like Bob Marley. Everything was wrong. And out of place. And I felt so dizzy, I couldn’t breathe!” Yifan was panicking. “And then I woke up...”

“Whoa, whoa, you called at three in the morning because you have a bad dream?” Zitao asked disbelief.

“Who was that?”

“Chanyeol’s boyfriend!” Zitao snarled. “You practically screamed, dude, I could hear you from here even without the loudspeaker.”

“Zitao!” Chanyeol pinched Zitao’s thigh again, not caring anymore if he caused any bruise. “Go back to sleep!”

Zitao grunted but obeyed. He turned sideway, back facing Chanyeol, in the way Chanyeol knew he should make amend later.

“Now shoot, Boss!” Chanyeol said.

Yifan sighed again. “Forget it, just... I didn’t know why I called you, I just need somebody to talk to and...”

“Yifan.” It’s one of the rare occasions that Chanyeol called his boss with his name. “We’ve already known each other for about two years. We’re practically friends.”

Yifan didn’t reply.

“How about you take a day off tomorrow?” Chanyeol suggested. “There are no major meetings for at least two days ahead.”

“Deadline.”

“You overwork yourself, Boss.”

“But I think I’ll take a half day off, the day after tomorrow,” Yifan continued, sounding so tired. “Can you clear off my schedule?”

“Sure!” Chanyeol beamed at his phone. He really thought that Yifan should rest even though it’s only for half a day.

“Good.” There were some shuffling sounds. “And I’m... I didn’t mean to disturb your sleep. Good night.”

“Good night.” And the call ended.

Chanyeol sighed and dropped his phone on the night stand again. Wu Yifan, for most people might be a tyrant, crazy, and too perfectionist editor. But Chanyeol adored his dedication toward his work and learned a lot from the cold man. He even dreamed to be an editor in chief like him one day. Well, if only he could order the right filling for his boss sandwich the next time.

The lanky guy turned toward his sulky boyfriend.

“Huang Zitao,” he murmured ily. Or tried to. Zitao didn’t budge, so he tried again. “Huang Zitaooooo.”

“Yah, stop that! You sound like you have a constipation!” Zitao turned around and faced him.

“Ehm, maybe I do.”

“No, stop...”

“I’m constipating,” Chanyeol whispered seductively. He crawled slowly toward Zitao. “With my love for you.”

“Here we go again,” Zitao mumbled when Chanyeol pressed their lips together.

 

 

Do Kyungsoo loved to spend mornings in his tiny office, drinking Darjeeling tea and reading some medical journals before the hectic day started. Well, it wasn’t like he had hectic days. He only started his therapy center a month ago and the amount of clients he had was quiet embarrassing. But hey, things would look up, Kyungsoo kept telling himself that. At least he already on the right track for achieving his dream: becoming a prominent psychiatrist. He already had a center and at such a young age too.

A knock on the door startled him a bit. He didn’t have any appointment during that time of the day or until after 3 p.m., actually. That probably was Mrs. Jung, his assistant.

“Come in!” Kyungsoo said.

The door opened and a very handsome and very tall man came in. He looked around the room hesitantly until his gaze landed on Kyungsoo. His impressive eyebrows furrowed.

“Can I help you?” Kyungsoo asked politely.

“I’m here to see Dr. Do Kyungsoo,” the man answered in heavy and steady voice. “I hadn’t made any appointment but the woman in the front desk told me to just come in.”

Kyungsoo excitedly jumped from his seat. Well, how could he not? Client! “Please, call me Kyungsoo,” he chirped, extending his hand to the gorgeous male.

The man stared at his hand and said, “You gotta be kidding me.”