“Hey, Twelve. Did Jongin tell you about Baekhyun?” Chanyeol asked timidly, voice echoing through the deserted streets.

It was past curfew and they were hurrying back to the dorm after a big job, the pass gripped tightly in their hands, ready to be shown to a Guard.

“I never really liked him,” came the blunt answer.

“Why not?” Chanyeol felt suddenly defensive, even a little offended. Baekhyun was still his friend, no matter what.

Someone walked by and they froze, tensing. When the person, a drunk man, passed them, Chanyeol let out a sigh of relief. “Why not?” he repeated, focusing back on the question.

As they continued back, Twelve sighed too, but it was for a different reason. “He always felt like he deserved something better, like he's better than the rest of us. It bothers me. And he said those things to Jongin. There's no way I'm going to let him go for that.”

Chanyeol stared at the top of the shorter boy's head and chewed on his lower lip. “Okay, I guess he was rude, but-”

“Stop being so infatuated,” Twelve interrupted, sounding more experienced than he was. “Now that he's not here, you can think things through and see him more clearly. You'll probably realize he's not as perfect as you think.”

“I never said he was perfect,” Chanyeol protested. “Just that his thoughts are understandable.”

“You're either really dumb or too deep in denial.”

“I'm dumb,” he replied quickly. He thought back to the many times he'd been told that, and a wry smile that Twelve couldn't see in the dark ghosted his lips.

“It's definitely denial.”

“Okay,” Chanyeol said, surrendering unwillingly. He could never win an argument against anyone. “But you should at least be grateful that you met Jongin because of him!”

And Chanyeol was chased the rest of the way back to the dorm, empty threats and defenses joining laughter in the air as the previous tense atmosphere and caution was thrown to the wind.

But as he lay on the mat and listened to the snores around him, he followed Twelve's advice and tried to see Baekhyun in another light. Memories flashed past of Baekhyun wearing the Cleaner's jacket, the yellow number glaring back as he walked away. Of Baekhyun in various revealing clothes, walking away proudly as if he didn't care. Of Baekhyun with a gash in his shoulder, blood trickling as he walked away, daring people to care. Of Baekhyun walking away that one last time, happy, with a light bounce in his steps.

Chanyeol saw all the flaws that everyone else had mentioned, but Baekhyun's image in his mind- unrelenting, proud, a little sad- wouldn't change.

“Maybe I'm dumb and in denial,” Chanyeol murmured to himself. But he couldn't find a reason why he should be in denial, so he finally concluded that he was just dumb and closed his eyes. And as he fell asleep, he wondered why his thoughts all seemed to revolve around Baekhyun and dreamed of happier times.

~ ~ ~

One night, Yixing brought out the wine and Baekhyun learned, among other things, that Yixing easily became drunk and a drunk Yixing was impulsive, very talkative, and a little saf.

“One year,” he murmured before throwing his head back and emptying his glass.

Baekhyun stared and didn't say anything.

“You asked before why I started hiring you,” Yixing said to the bottle as he refilled his glass. “Do you still want to know?”

“Yes?”

“I feel like I should pay you back for telling me stories about your life, because I never told you anything. I didn't know how to, but I guess I should today.” His words began slurring even before he lifted the glass a second time and Baekhyun was amazed at how badly Yixing reacted to the wine.

“There used to be a man,” Yixing finally began after too long of a pause. “Wu Yifan. I loved him. He loved me. We bought this house and we filled it with our favorite things, but mostly I was just happy 'cause he was there. With me. He's a lawyer, but when he was at home, we made music together. It was beautiful, but that was three years ago. We were so happy. Or maybe only I was. Because then one day-”

He stopped again and it was pitiful how he forced the wine down his throat. Baekhyun took the moment to wonder why Yixing was still a , considering the two-year relationship and scolded himself mentally for not focusing on the right thing.

“One year ago, on that day he left for a job in another city. He would come back sometimes, but then one day, he just never came back. I was the only one left, he left me. And he told me- he said that the other job was better for him, for his career, but me? I wanted to be understanding, but this house is so empty now and I just can't. I want to imagine that it's better for him to be where he wants, but I just want him here. What's so good about that other place? Wasn't everything we had enough? And he never properly said goodbye. He wants to be happy and I want him to be happy but I want me to be happy too. And you know, everyone says that word. Happy. But after saying it so much, it doesn't mean anything anymore. Like, Baekhyun, are you happy? If you say it, what do you feel? When you say you want to be happy, what do you even mean? What . . .”

Yixing kept talking, words slurring into a blubbering mess, but Baekhyun stopped listening. Phrases replayed in his mind, but mixed into Yixing's drunken pleading was Jongin's words that had been said to him, hurled at him in anger.

“I want to imagine that it's better for him to be where he wants, but I just want him here."

"You're my friend. I want you to be happy."

"What's so good about that other place? Wasn't everything we had enough?"

"We went through all this- all that during training 'till now, but what? All these years and I couldn't even make you feel human?"

"When you say you want to be happy, what do you even mean?"

"Baekhyun, you're never going to be happy."

"Jongin, it's different."

Baekhyun nodded. I'm different, he told himself. Different.

He was different from that Wu Yifan who left his perfect life, abandoned his love without an explanation for some similar life in another city. Baekhyun was different. He needed an escape from the suffering and Jongin and Chanyeol and even Sehun would understand. Different, because he was the victim who was finally rescued.

Different, different, different. He chanted it like a mantra, a prayer, as he dragged Yixing off the armchair to his bedroom.

It repeated in his mind like a taunt as he drifted to sleep in his own bed.

Different.

♔ A  u  t  h  o  r  '  s    N  o  t  e ♔

fanxing is my favorite lay-ship T_T

but how to not love baekxing???