A heavy pounding on his door pulled LuHan from his dreams of a beach, and his eyes fluttered open to be met with the unfamiliar sight of pale brown walls. He sat up quickly in surprise, but as his tired mind took in the sights of the room the former day’s happenings came back to him. With a groan he swung his legs out of bed, flinching at the cold chill that met him and pebbled his skin, and with a grumbled complaint he moved to the door to yank it open. “What?” He snapped, and Mrs. Luo merely gave him a tight smile.

“You will be downstairs to begin work in twenty minutes, LuHan,” she said firmly, and LuHan’s mouth dropped open as he tried to fathom how her mind worked. 

“I can’t get ready in twenty minutes, are you kidding me?!” He said, all pretense of respect going out of him in his irritation, and her eyes narrowed in response.

“Then maybe you should have gotten up the first three times I knocked on your door. Twenty minutes!” And off she went, back down the stairs, leaving LuHan to growl at her retreating back and slam the door. He stomped over to the dresser, eyeing the bed and contemplating just going back to sleep, but he figured that parole officers would probably come drag him out if he did that and so with a wordless grumble he grabbed a fresh set of clothing from the drawers and headed for the shower.

By the time he emerged from the shower, twenty minutes had passed and he knew that he would just have to go the day looking like hell if he wanted to be on time. His pride won, though, and ignoring the clock that was showing 9:46 he carefully combed and styled his hair, used his moisturizing cream that he had so missed while serving his time, and even applied a bit of cologne. As he finally opened his door to head downstairs his clock read 10:18 but he ignored the rudeness of his actions and entered the kitchen. He was greeted with the delicious scent of cooking meat and baked bread, and he reached out a hand to grab one of the sugared buns cooling on a wire rack above the ovens. 

A wooden spoon smacked him hard across the back of his knuckles and he let out a yelp of surprise and pain, his eyes looking immediately to old Tzu to see the man shaking his head and pointing the spoon at him in reproach. “If you wanted to eat you should have been down here on time,” he grouched, and LuHan drew up to his full height to try and intimidate the old man to give him food.

“Well maybe you should have told me what time to be down here,” he snipped back, and reached again for a sugar bun. This time a firm grip on his wrist stopped him and his eyes traveled past the large hand, down the sweatshirt clad arm, and into the face of the wheelchair man. His brows were drawn over his eyes and his lips were tight as he regarded LuHan, but when he spoke he was obviously struggling to keep his voice light.

“You heard Grandpa Tzu,” he said, then motioned behind him to a few buttered rolls on another cooling rack. “You may have one of those, just one, but tomorrow you’d best be downstairs by nine at the latest.”

LuHan yanked his hand out of the man’s grip, though he assumed it would take quite a bit of force to do it and so when the handicapped man let go easily, LuHan stumbled and almost fell on his rear. The other man moved his wheelchair through the kitchen with a practiced ease, and LuHan glared at his back only to receive a swat from the spoon on his hip. He turned to stare aghast at old man Tzu, and the offender merely shrugged. “Don’t glare at Vinson,” he said, turning back to whatever he was cooking on the stove and ignoring LuHan.

With the distinct impression that the old man would see if he took anything but what ‘Oh Precious Vinson’ had allowed, LuHan reached out and pulled a butter roll off of the rest of the batch. The roll was so light and airy that it only served to make LuHan more hungry, but by the time he finished eating it Mrs. Luo was in the kitchen as well and she directed the tall man to come help her with slicing vegetables. LuHan had never done anything of the sort and so after butchering the first two carrots Mrs. Luo took pity on him, took the knife, and told him to go find Vinson.

He did so grudgingly, finding her senseless yet harmless chatter more amicable than anything he might find from the ill tempered Vinson, but he only grumbled a little before doing her bidding. He eyed the sugar buns as he passed but old Tzu gave him the evil eye and LuHan didn’t want to risk another sm