Chanyeol looked around at faces he knew and didn’t. There were his parents’ friends (whom he didn’t really remember), his distant relatives (whom he didn’t really know he has), and his big family: uncles, aunts, cousins, nephews, nieces (them he knew, of course, and somehow this fact only worsened the weird feeling in his guts).

Then there were his friends. A very, very poor excuse of friends.

Second front row was occupied by some people (his sister’s boyfriend’s family? He couldn’t seem to remember and besides, what were they doing here?) and Lu Han-hyung and Minseok-hyung. For some reason, Minseok-hyung was sporting pink hair that Chanyeol knew was not his idea. Must be something to do with insanely big love he had for his fiancé, Chanyeol mused. Said fiancé was now clinging onto him (nothing new there) and nuzzled his face into Minseok-hyung’s shoulder (also, nothing new). Lu Han-hyung’s face was that of an agony (agony?) and impatience and Chanyeol was ‘lucky’ they were in his hearing range so he could listen to their conversation (or maybe, it was just his abnormally wide ears providing extra hearing).

“Baozi~” Lu Han-hyung sing songed.

Baozi, or steamed bun. Chanyeol knew not because he understand Mandarin, but because Lu Han-hyung would explain the namesake to whoever willing to listen and Chanyeol was too kind to refuse any lovey dovey crap Lu Han-hyung had thrown at him.

“What is it, Hannie?” Minseok-hyung with his never-ending patience (and love; don’t forget about that) indulged his fiancé.

“Let’s just go home.”

Chanyeol restrained himself from shrieking in disbelief.

Minseok-hyung just raised his perfect eyebrow. “Well, you know that’s not a nice thing to say.”

Lu Han-hyung pouted and Chanyeol marveled for a moment about just how pretty the Chinese guy was.

“Is there even a point of us staying? This isn’t like watching a movie when we have to sit still to know how the story ends.”

Excuse me? Chanyeol wanted to feel offended but found himself just frown instead. Watching the two interact made him agitated so he chose to shift his attention to a row behind the sickeningly sweet couple.

… And saw Jongdae flirting shamelessly with Liyin-noona. Chanyeol almost shook his head in pity. Did Liyin-noona even want to be here? But  Jongdae was nothing but tenacious and Chanyeol had to give that to him.

Beside Jongdae (who was now… serenading? Damn) was Kyungsoo with his big, round eyes stared at nothing and yet, everything. Kinda scary, but Chanyeol was no foreign with that. And nestled comfortably, snuggly, on his small, narrow shoulder was Jongin’s head.

He was sound asleep.

Chanyeol was this close to shout at Kyungsoo, asking him to wake Jongin up and tell him that he was being unbelievably insensitive… until he noticed Kyungsoo’s small hand patted Jongin’s thigh in rhythm, pulling Jongin into a deeper sleep.

Well, that was... displeasing, to put it mildly. Chanyeol gave up and averted his gaze to the seat behind the annoying, inconsiderate couple.

His eyes instantly found Joonmyeon-hyung’s.

He smiled at him and Joonmyeon-hyung returned the gesture and in process, enhancing the prettiness of his girlish face. Chanyeol sighed in relieve. At least one of his friends was sane and normal enough.

Chanyeol tried not to notice Yixing-hyung behind the rich man, waving enthusiastically (all the while smiling like he was stoned, which was a normal occurrence), sitting side by side with Kris-hyung whose head was leaning forward. Too forward. Chanyeol wanted to roll his eyes. Whatever.

“Are those your friends?” Chanyeol snapped his head to the source of sound. The middle-aged man with probing, disapproving stare quirked his eyebrow at him.

“Yes.” Chanyeol grinned (who was his name, again? Kang Pil-joo? Pil-hoon?). “Unfortunately, they are.”

Chanyeol was going to ask the older man something when he heard a whine from somewhere.

“I’m hungry~”

“Patience, Hun. This won’t take long.”

“It’s been fifteen minutes and I’ve seen nothing so far. Let’s just go home.”

Zitao patted Sehun’s (that ill-mannered, bratty boy) cheek, placating him. “Just wait a bit more, okay? Mm?”

“Nooo~ I want to go home. Please, Taotao. Ho~me.” He had gone into a legit, full-mode whine, now. Apparently didn’t give a flying to people giving him dirty glare. He even hugged Zitao’s arm tightly, as if he was afraid his Tao-oppa could fly away at any given moment.

Chanyeol’s right eye twitched.

“If you guys step out of this place before I do, I’ll kill you.”

Byun Baekhyun. Pretty, pretty Baekhyun with angelic voice, eye smile, toothy grin, and beautiful hands.

Chanyeol nearly cried at the sight of him. He was astonishing, even in moment like this which Chanyeol was sure is not something worth celebrating; garbed in the best ensemble he had: an all-black suit with blood-red tie. His otherwise serene face was distorted by frowning pink, soft-looking lips. Eyes adorned with perfectly applied black liner and those very eyes were now looking at Chanyeol with unreadable gaze.

Chanyeol realised, with aching heart, that there was nothing else he wanted right now other than to take him into his arms and soothe him.

Because no matter how it looked like to the outsiders, he loved him. Dearly, with all his heart and soul; a feeling so intense and overwhelming he thought it could choke him to death and he wouldn’t have minded it. So when Baekhyun turned away, refused to even look at his direction, Chanyeol felt a sting in his heart. The pain was almost physical it left him slightly breathless. He believed the inner torture was palpable enough because Zitao’s eyes were starting to water and Yixing-hyung’s face morphed into something akin to pity and understanding.

The church gigantic door was then opened and gave Chanyeol the sight of his bride.

She was gorgeous. Even more than his forever-idol, Sandara Park, if he was honest with himself.

Chanyeol smiled faintly as she walked down the aisle; her father held her hand gingerly. She smiled back, eyes gleaming with joy and unshed tears which only wrecked his heart further. She was everything a man could possibly ask for. A young woman from a respected family, graduated from a reputable university, worked for a huge company.

‘And what am I, Yeol? An orphan, barely graduated from college, and living out of singing from one bar to another’

But he had Chanyeol’s undivided love; a love no other person had or even dreamt of having.

And that was not enough. Baekhyun never thought it was because he was selfish like that, because he only thought of Chanyeol and never of himself. No matter how hard Chanyeol had convinced him, Baekhyun would refuse to believe that his master degree could wait, that he could look for a job to save money and that no, he didn’t mind wearing hoodies and sweatpants every day as long as Baekhyun was beside him.

But then Baekhyun would take his hands into his own and say that he would never forgive himself if Chanyeol ever lived pitifully like that and how he would feel guilty for the rest of his life if Chanyeol’s hands, these hands he was holding, ever did hard, labor work.

A cool hand touched his cheek and Chanyeol looked down to see his bride stared lovingly at him.

“What's with the forlorn face? This is our happy day and one should never cry on occasion like this.”

But that was exactly what Chanyeol wanted to do so why couldn’t he? His heart was broken and his life was dark and it all, he didn’t even know her that well.

The priest’s (it was Kang Pil-hyun, he recalled it now) words flew over his head. He couldn’t bear to hear it nor did he want to. What was the use of it? His fate was sealed. He didn’t even prepare a fancy, touching vow to say. All he had to offer were the standard one and a heart broken beyond repair. He pitied his bride for having a groom like him, but she could take it or just leave it.

(Please, leave it)

“… And if there is anyone here has a legitimate reason of why the two shouldn’t get married, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Chanyeol unconsciously gripped his bride’s hands he was holding. He prayed for his sanity (very, very tiny portion left in him) that the priest would just get this over with. Why prolong it? Why stomp on his already crushed heart? Why so cruel?

Chanyeol opened his mouth, ready to yell at the priest to just cut the freaking crap when he heard loud gasp echoed throughout the church. He spun his head so fast, heart heavy with anticipation, and there he was.

“Yes, Young Man?” the priest urged him. There was an edge in his tone and Chanyeol hated it.

Baekhyun bit his lower lip before speaking, “I—today… today Chanyeol forgot to eat his Froot Loops. It’s his favourite cereal and he would get antsy if he didn’t have it for breakfast. Because he believes his day will go weirdly if he goes with another menu, or cereal brand for that matter.”

The priest clicked his tongue. “Young Man—“

“Please,” Baekhyun cut him off, voice breaking. “Please let me finish. He also wouldn’t sleep well if he didn’t hear me singing for him, which had happened for the last five days. And sleepless Chanyeol means cranky Chanyeol and I—I hate cranky Chanyeol. I like happy Chanyeol, hyperactive Chanyeol. But I…” he drew a breath and shook his head. “I just love Chanyeol. All of him. The cranky one, the noisy one, even the trying-too-hard-to-be-funny Chanyeol.”

Baekhyun lifted his head and his gaze met Chanyeol’s, beautiful face shining with tears.

“I’m sorry for not fighting hard enough for you. I’m sorry for not being enough for you. But I love you, Yeollie. So, so much. And while I think you deserve the best things life has to offer, I can’t lie to myself that I really, really hope you would take me; the only imperfect thing you could have. I’m sorry you have to know this today, of all days.”

Was it possible for a living being to feel this kind of happiness? To finally, finally held onto a hope so beautiful and promising?

Baekhyun was standing there, hateful comments and glare raining on him. His face was wet and his eyeliner smudged.

But despite everything, he was the most captivating sight Park Chanyeol had ever laid his eyes on.

A slight movement had his attention diverted and he saw Sehun smiled at him, uttering a soft, light-hearted “Go, hyung.”

Then the world shut on him. Suddenly, there were only the two of them; Park Chanyeol and Byun Baekhyun. He didn’t hear indignant shouts from the priest, the sobs from his bride, nor did he see the disbelieving expression written all over the attendances’ faces.

All he knew was that he was now closing the distance between them. All he heard were his steps toward Baekhyun. And his entire senses felt nothing but pure happiness and love.

“I only had sandwich, Baek. It was awful.” And with that, Chanyeol took Baekhyun into his arms (finally, finally) and kissed him full in the mouth.

Staring at the dazed expression etched on Baekhyun’s face, Chanyeol grinned. “Now let’s get my Froot Loops before all of these drive me insane.”

He then tugged Baekhyun’s arm and soon they were running hand-in-hand, leaving the church (and the stupid, stupid priest). Chanyeol saw a hand lifted from the middle row and laughed when he realised what it was. He grabbed the car key Joonmyeon-hyung was waving as he passed him, almost missed a playful ‘you’re lucky the gas is full’.

He, however, didn’t miss Lu Han-hyung hooted like the hooligan that he was.

“I’m glad I stayed throughout the ceremony, Yeollie!”

Omake:

“Joonmyeonnie.”

“What is it, Kris?”

“All these things make me think about everything.”

Joonmyeon sighed deeply and turned around.”Kris, can we not—“

“No, you don’t understand!” Kris hurriedly shushed the shorter male. “I think I have it all figured out now.”

Joonmyeon nodded. “Yeah?”

“Marriage is totally my style. Let’s do it.”