“Fifty-four, fifty-five, fifty-six.”

Sehun watches as the pile of brown paper-wrapped packages and neatly-enveloped letters filed on the table in front of him. A scowl appears on his face as he glances at the man standing smugly next to the mountain of things to be delivered.

“A rookie like you can deliver these and get the job done before the day ends, right?”

Sehun wants to scoff, but instead, he gives him his most charming smile. It’s not that Sehun hates the job of being a mail boy, in fact, he regards the act of delivery as a hobby and a talent that he was born with. Sehun simply loved being able to deliver letters and things that reflected the sender’s heart and emotions, but right now, Sehun hates the man that stood in front of him. He was a senior, someone who has worked in the mailing business for about three years, Sehun noticed by the man’s slightly different uniform which showed off a difference in rank. And Sehun hates the fact that the man was showing off by thinking that he can’t handle something as small as the task given to him just because he was but a university student doing a part-time job.

“I can handle it, Hyung. This is nothing.” Sehun finally answers with the same smile still plastered on his face. He inwardly smirks when he saw the older man’s annoyed frown.

“Keh. Whatever, boy. Just don’t screw up or else…” the man warns him before walking away and leaving Sehun to stuff the letters into his messenger bag. He glances at his watch.

'Two hours before class starts.'

He quickly finishes stuffing the envelopes into his bag with a plan to deliver at least half or a third of the letters before school starts. 'No problem.' He inwardly smiles as he started to make his way out of the post office only to stop when he sees a foreign man standing by the door.

The first thing Sehun noticed was the man’s callous hands that seemed to stand out from his prim and proper appearance – shaved face, neatly-pressed black trousers and dress shirt, and dark, woody hair brushed back. When Sehun’s eyes meet the other’s smiling ones, he felt instinct tug behind his brain to show respect so the first thing Sehun does is do a ninety-degree bow. Sehun hears the man chuckle and he looks up to see the man looking at him with amusement.

“I have a special package I want to be delivered.” The man’s deep, rumbling voice spoke and Sehun finally notices the waist-high box behind the stranger. 'Yup, no problem at all.'

~ξαναγραφεί~

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Every tick of Big Ben’s second hand has Zitao unconsciously tapping on the pocket watch necklace hanging around his necklace. He stands firm against the cold breeze that passes him as he watches the dots of people walking around the city of London, England that morning.

“Hickory dickory dock, the panda ran up the clock. The clock struck one, the panda ran down, hickory dickory dock.” Zitao sang with such childishness as he rocked his head from side to side to the tune of the old children’s rhyme which he slightly changed the lyrics of. Zitao glanced at his pocket watch, watching the small second hand tick in that familiar rhythm that he has grown accustomed to.

3. 2. 1.

With a snap of his finger, everything around him stopped. Zitao glanced up at the face of Big Ben to see it frozen. Everything was silent except for the soft ticking of the watch hanging around Zitao’s neck. Without a second thought, he jumps off the ridiculously high tower and lands softly on the pavement of the streets of London like a cat.

“Three blind pandas, see how they run…” Zitao sang another children’s rhyme as he hopped around the streets filled with people frozen like mannequins. Zitao stops in front of a young woman who was in the middle of the street. Zitao pokes her cheek, then her nose, then he looks around him before taking the phone from the girl’s hand and placing it inside her backpack. He smiles in accomplishment before hopping on towards the coffee shop across the seat. Zitao sits in one of the outside tables occupied by a middle-aged woman who had a solemn face that Zitao felt pity on.

Loneliness.

Zitao stood from his seat, went to the nearest flower shop, picket out a rose from the display, placed a nickel on the counter, went back to the coffee shop and placed the rose, together with some words written on a napkin, on top of the table next to the woman. Zitao takes one final look around him before looking at his watch and counting down the seconds.

3. 2. 1.

The gears inside Big Ben turn again and the second hand moves along with the busy-bodies of London as if nothing happened. The woman’s eyes widen at the flower that suddenly appeared next to her and as she read the words scribbled on the napkin, she found herself turning around to look for the person responsible of the act. Her eyes caught a glimpse of a tall, smiling boy standing in the middle of the passing crowd, looking back at her. She opens to say something but was interrupted by a loud honk of a jeep that has stopped in front of a young girl currently lying on the cement with surprise from the near-death experience. The woman looks back, only to find the boy has vanished from the crowd. She stares at the spot where he was standing just seconds ago before returning her gaze to the napkin in her hand.

A rose for a girl to make her smile. Have a nice day!

~ξαναγραφεί~

The scent of newly-plucked roses and tulips filled the air inside the small greenhouse where Yixing was currently passing the time. Sheets of brown parchments and scrolls lie on top of the table, on the floor, and just everywhere. Yixing walks from one part of the greenhouse where the amaryllis grew to the opposite side where the poppies blossomed. He allows the scent of the flowers to waft to his senses before finally picking out a stem of the red flower and dropping it into the bowl where he grinds it. Beside him, a small white rabbit nibbles on a carrot whilst looking at him. Yixing smiles and pats the rabbit’s head lightly before pouring a small amount of golden liquid into the bowl and continuing to grind the amaryllis petals.

“Pour the grounded petals…” Yixing mumbles as he reads the instructions written on the paper. He puts the grounded petals inside the boiling blue liquid in the test tube turning it into a dark violet mixture. He takes a good whiff before scrunching his nose and shaking his head.

“Something is still missing.”

Yixing rereads every parchment on the table before scampering out of the greenhouse and towards the row of bushes that lie near a cliff. He gets down on his knees and shuffles along the long line of berry bushes, trying to locate that certain fruit that will make his concoction perfect. Yixing sniffs around like a dog before stopping on a silver-colored fruit and smiles.

“Bingo.” Yixing pumps the air in victory as he stands up and holds in between his fingers the shiny fruit that was the size of a pea. He marvels at it as he holds it up to eye level as if it was a piece of gem before noticing something falling from the sky a hundred meters away. Yixing narrows his eyes to get a better view of the almost dot-like object. His gaze stays fixated on the object that was now nearing the ground and Yixing couldn’t help but think that for one fraction of a second, the object was shining.

Like a star.

~ξαναγραφεί~

“Go an octave higher, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun clears his throat before repeating the same set of notes for the nth time that hour, the only difference is that with every repeat, his octave goes higher and higher and higher.

“Great job, Baek.” The pianist-slash-trainer complimented and Baekhyun can’t help but let a wide smile take over his features.

Ever since he was a child, Baekhyun had found a liking towards music that he couldn’t quite fully grasp yet he absolutely enjoyed. His childhood was mostly filled with blank pages as he couldn’t quite remember anything about the Mother who was barely by his side nor does he remember the friends that he thought he had. If there was one thing that Baekhyun had a vivid memory of, it was the man that would occasionally visit him during special events especially his birthday. At first, Baekhyun was hesitant with the way the man interacted with him but when he was presented with his first instrument on his 7^th birthday, Baekhyun realized that this man was no stranger but family. After that, Baekhyun always looked forward to meeting the man he now called ‘Father’ and the precious gifts that came along. For Baekhyun, the gifts represented something more than materialistic and he was always grateful to his Father who always knew what he wanted despite not always being around.

“I’ll give you a thirty-minute break, Byun. After that, we’ll try recording some songs.”

Baekhyun nods and bows as his mentor leaves him alone inside the studio. When he hears the door click shut, Baekhyun immediately takes a seat in front of the piano. He ghosts his finger along the keys and he smiles to himself before finally letting his fingertips touch the white keys. The sound of key notes flowing out of the piano as he plays with such precision could make anyone who hears the tune stop in his tracks and just listen.

Because the music that Baekhyun makes is just pure emotion.

Baekhyun was so into the zone when he suddenly hears his phone blasting full volume from his pocket. Clicking his tongue in irritation for having been disturbed, he pulls out the device from his pocket and brings it to his ear, not even taking a glance at the caller’s ID flashing on the screen.

“Hello?” Baekhyun answers with a slight hint of irritation evident in his voice.

“Did I disturb you or something?”

Baekhyun’s knitted brows and frown turn into a smile as he hears the sound of his Hyung and long-time best friend.

“Luhan-hyung! No, you didn’t! I wasn’t doing anything!” Baekhyun shakes his head as he presses one key at a time on the piano.

“Alright then. I can’t talk long. I have to get ready for a party. I just wanted to see how my favorite singer is doing.”

Baekhyun smiles proud at being called a ‘favorite’. It was something that he takes pride on since Luhan, being in the entertainment business like him, is his role model.

“Of course, I’m still the best singer out here!” Baekhyun boasts and he hears the older boy laugh on the other side of the line. He engages in a short chitchat with Luhan before he hears the door of the studio open.

“I have to go, Hyung! I’ll call you later.” Baekhyun says before ending the call after Luhan says goodbye. Baekhyun stands up from the piano and bows in greeting to his mentor who ruffles his hair and bids him to follow towards the recording studio. Baekhyun puts on the headphones and blows air through the microphone in front of him before getting the signal to start. Music fills his ears as he drowns in the sound coming out of the headphones. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and lets the music take him away.

“You are eternity. My eternal love.”