Chapter one ;

Whilst heaving out a pained sigh, twenty-five year old Kris Wu finally mustered enough energy to peel himself off the comfort of his bed, cracking an eye open with much difficultly as he looks around his fairly large room, grunting as soon as his eyes fall on his digital clock.

9:06 AM.

Deciding it was too early to accomplish anything, Kris threw himself back on the bed, enveloping himself within a cocoon of blankets; his eyes fluttering close a few moments after. He’s sure an hour of extra sleep wouldn’t really hurt anyone. Maybe two hours, he supposes. It’s his birthday, after all. All Kris wants to do on his twenty fifth birthday is get a day’s worth of rest. He doubts he has anything better to do anyways. It’s not like his grandfather is here to nag him as usual, he thought to himself.

Right then, his mobile phone blasts out into a noisy pop song, interrupting both of Kris’ thoughts as he lets out a disgruntled huff, lazily poking his arm out of his blanketed sanctuary, groping around blindly for the phone that’s supposed to be placed on his table, right next to him.

“Hello, Kris Wu speaking.” He lazily mumbles to the speaker moments after he’s found his phone, trying his best not to yawn out loud. “How can I help you?”
“Yifan! Don’t tell me you were still asleep?! It’s already fifteen minutes past nine!” A familiar voice shrieks out from the other side of the line, making Kris bolt straight up, his former sleepy self ceasing to exist.

“Holy shi—Grandpa? I thought you were going to be busy today! What’s with the sudden call?” He exclaims into the phone, rolling himself off the bed in haste, kicking his sweatpants off as he makes his way to the toilet.
“It’s your birthday, silly. I want to be the first one to greet you, my boy. Happy 25^th birthday, Yifan.” His grandfather cackles on the other side, Kris simply rolls his eyes at this. Typical grandfather of his.

“Thanks, Grandpa. But you weren’t the first one to greet me a happy birthday.” Kris muses as he slips his bathroom slippers on, walking over to the sink, eyes wandering around in search of his toothbrush. “Jessica greeted me about—8 hours ago.”

“Ah yes, that girlfriend of yours. What a sweet gir-“ His grandfather cuts himself off and Kris furrows his brows, wondering if the old man has fallen asleep while talking to him. Shrugging it off, Kris uncaps his tube of tooth paste, squeezing it onto his toothbrush before he was interrupted—rather rudely, he thought—by his grandfather’s voice. “Wu Yifan! Are you talking to me in the toilet?! The nerve of you—“

Toothbrush shoved halfway into his mouth, Kris quickly yanks it out upon realization, spitting the foam forming around his mouth back into the sink, letting out an awkward chortle. “Um, no?” Kris lies as he wipes his lips with the back of his hand, placing the toothbrush down. “I’m about to have breakfast.”

“….Alright.” His grandfather manages after a long pause, Kris lets out a relieved exhale at this, his grandfather can really get scary, at times. He carefully leans forward to rinse his mouth, not consuming too much water in fear of his grandfather’s harsh lectures; trying to rid of all the foam and hopefully, the aftertaste. “Moving on. Truthfully, I called you to tell you about your appointment with Mr. Han tomorrow. You’ll be meeting him at the same café we last went to together, alright? Two o’clock sharp.”

Kris wrinkles his nose in distaste at this. He was never really too fond of that man and he knew Mr. Han felt the exact same way towards him. He calls it a mutual but silent agreement between them. “Wait, Mr. Han? What for?”

“Have you forgotten already? It’s your twenty-fifth birthday, you silly goose. Not your fifty-fifth. Are you already suffering from Alzheimer?”
“Uh—not necessarily?” Kris replies rather unsurely, still not too sure what his grandfather was going on about.
“You’ll be able to receive your trust fund today, Yifan. Have you really forgotten all about it?” The blonde could almost see his grandfather shaking his head. Well how was he supposed to remember? It’s only a silly trust fund, after all—

“Oh yes, it kinda slipped my mind. How much are we talking?” He voice was laced with disinterest as he emerges out of the toilet, tugging his wardrobe’s door open.

“About two hundred twenty three million Korean won, my boy.” And Kris could’ve sworn his grandfather was smirking this very moment as he chokes on his own saliva, reducing him to a spluttering mess.
“Two hundred twenty three million?!”

“That’s right, my boy. Two hundred twenty three million. Don’t be late, alright?” Kris hears an almost inaudible from the end of the line, and soon, the dial tone was all that could be heard.

*

On the other side of Seoul, Korea.

Young and talented Zhang Yixing tapped his foot nervously on the marble flooring of the building, his hands clasped tightly together as he awaits his turn. Deciding that it’ll probably take a while, he pulls out his iPod to listen to some music, only much to his disappointment, he forgot his headsets back in his apartment. Yixing grumbles to himself in dismay, burying his face into his hands. He has the worst luck in the world, he thinks to himself.
‘Can things get any worse?’

To his luck, his phone vibrates against the denim of his jeans. He pulls out his phone hurriedly, glancing down at the caller’s ID before letting out a loud grunt. Shaking his head at his unbelievably horrid luck, sliding his phone open. It was no other than his Landlord.

“Yixing, get your here at once.” His landlord hisses through the phone, obviously angered by God-knows-what. Yixing bites his lip, bracing himself for what his landlord has to say. “Your rent is overdue, Yixing. I’m afraid you’ll have to come here and move your things right away.”
 

The Chinese boy pulls himself to his feet straight away, taking a deep breath soon after receiving the news. Calm down, Xing. Don’t lose your cool.
“But sir,” He tries, making sure his voice doesn’t crack in the process. “Give me one more week. I promise I’ll pay my rent by then.”

He hears the old man tut in disapproval and his heart sinks immediately. “I can’t, Yixing. It’s been three months. I can’t keep giving you second chances.”

“At least give me a few hours, sir. I’m at an audition right now and—“

“You still attend those silly auditions of yours? Give it up, Yixing.” His landlord spits out rather harshly, making sure to give Yixing an unneeded reality check. “Chinese kids never make it big in the industry. That’s just how it goes.”

Yixing bites back a curse as his shoulders slump down in dejection. He mumbles a quiet, ‘Yes, sir.’ As he curls his fingers around his guitar, carefully zipping it back into its case before tossing it over his shoulder, dragging his feet to the exit. He thickly swallows the lump that has formed in his throat, biting his lip as he feels frustrated tears prickle around the corners of his eyes. It just isn’t fair, he thought. Discriminating between the Korean and Chinese contestants. He feels as though his pride has been gravely wounded after hearing his landlord’s words. Maybe he was right. Maybe he really would never make it to the music industry in Korea.

“Contestant number 48, Zhang Yixing? You’re up next.” He hears a voice call out just as he was about to push the building’s door open, halting at the sudden call. “Is contestant Zhang Yixing present?” 

Yixing finally chose to ignore the call, pushing the door open only to be greeted by the cold breeze of the cruel, unforgiving world. Albeit his heart didn’t really give up on the idea of joining auditions, his head decided it was better to find him a way to earn money first.

Yixing mentally notes down that he has to find a job, fast. And with a heavy heart, he trudges down the sidewalk; heading to his, now former, apartment complex.

*

The intoxicating smell of alcohol and the booming sound of music made Kris’ senses go all hazy, his birthday party that night took place in one of the largest clubs in Korea, of course. Knowing that his status in the society was so high, Kris Wu’s party was the talk of the town. The said man grins as a short, but ridiculously alluring girl presses a drunken kiss against his cheek, wishing him a happy birthday before she took off, his eyes followed her swaying hips as she walked away.

“Hey, hey! If it isn’t the birthday boy!” A tall, lanky Korean kid, better known as Park Chanyeol yells out as he makes his way over to Kris’ table, forcing himself between the ladies clinging onto the blonde’s arms. “How’s it going, my man?”

“Swell. Absolutely swell.” Kris chuckles as he raises his glass in emphasis, clinking it gently against Chanyeol’s. He waves his hands dismissively to the girls surrounding his table, indicating to them that he’d like to talk to Chanyeol in private. The tall man frowns at this, knowing that the girl who has made herself comfortable on his lap now as to leave. He places a kiss on her lips before bidding her goodbye, turning to face Kris bitterly.

“What’s so important, man? You made me send that hot one away!” The latter complained, flailing his arms in emphasis. Kris simply sighs at this.
“Chanyeol, listen. It’s about my trust fund—“
“She was so pretty, too! “ He rambled on, not really listening to whatever the blonde has to say. So Kris decides to opt for the most efficient way. Getting straight to the point.
“I’m going to be receiving two hundred twenty three million won tomorrow—“
 

“Two hundred three freaking million?!” Chanyeol exclaims as soon as the news made its way to his protruding ears, shaking Kris’ shoulder in an excited manner. Kris simply swats the other with the back of his hand, brushing Chanyeol’s palm off his shoulder with his larger one.

“Yes, Chanyeol. Two hundred twenty three million.” He groans out for the umpteenth time, falling back on his seat as the man finally unhands him, not forgetting to let out an impressed wolf whistle. Crossing his own arms as he too, returns to his normal sitting position.

“Dude. Your grandfather is awesome. You’d never have to work if you had that kind of money on your hands.”

Kris’ ears perk up at this, a large grin making its way to his features. That’s right, he thought to himself. With that amount of money, he could retire from his grandfather’s company before even actually doing any work. Plus he already has a roof on his head, a car and not to forget, a beautiful girlfriend. What more could he possibly want.

“My friend, you might be right, for once.” Kris laughs as he places his hand on Chanyeol’s shoulder, taking a sip out of the drink in his glass. “Let’s go all out tonight, shall we? Drinks are on me.”

wheezes 22 subscribers already bc of the foreword
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hi hi, i hope you enjoy this chapter, i typed it up quite late at night, so there might be some mistakes--

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