Baekhyun and Chanyeol's conversations occurred weekly, picking up where they left off the Sunday before. Fate had stopped letting them run into each other during work and they could only meet at the landfill, the walk back to the Cleaner's dorm growing longer each time. (The greetings with Twelve stayed the same length, but Jongin more than made up for it.)

He still found Chanyeol annoying, but decided talking to him was much better when compared to Jongin, who's sassy comments required actual brain power to deal with.

It was nice to have someone who listened and acted as if he mattered.

“ . . . so, yeah,” Chanyeol finished his story. “Did anything interesting happen to you?”

“Uh.” Baekhyun picked at a fraying thread on his shirt. “Yeah.” He turned around to glare at Jongin, who was a couple of steps behind. The other Entertainer caught the signal and immediately slowed down his pace, lips curling into a smirk, probably thinking Baekhyun wanted alone time with Chanyeol. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, because no matter how much gay he had, he wasn't actually gay. Unlike some people . . .

“What happened?” Chanyeol asked.

“Well,” he said, dragging out the word, not really sure how to describe it. “This guy hired me and we didn't ,” he finally said.

“Huh?”

“And he gave me this look like I'm crazy when I started . . . you know.” Chanyeol nodded, blushing a little. “Instead, he sat me down. He sat me down. He literally pulled out a chair and told me to take a seat. And then we had tea like we were having a fancy get-together like, what the ?”

“That kind of sounds like one of your fantasies!”

“Yeah?” Baekhyun asked, even though he had thought that too.

“Yeah, with the two of you sitting together, not caring about being Elites and Numbered, right?” Chanyeol smiled his usual over-excited smile at him. “You should be happy, not freaking out.”

“I'm not ing freaking out! I'm just . . . confused. Suspicious,” he ended weakly.

~ ~ ~

He was definitely freaking out.

Entertainer, e, , toy . . . whatever name they used, it only meant one thing: . But this man (“You can call me Yixing”) hired him to ask him if he wanted tea, ask him for his name (“Baekhyun . . . that fits you.”) and ask him how his day was.

Baekhyun would stare at his teacup, stuttering and flustered because what the ? He would go through all the logical reasons (this is a cruel joke, or test, or something) but then he would look up and see those earnest eyes, sweet smile and a ing dimple in the cheek and what the what the what the actual .

The first few times (there were many. What the .) he was so paranoid that someone would pop out of nowhere and drag him to Punishment for sitting with an Elite, looking at an Elite, talking to an Elite.

By the fourth time though, he found himself relaxing despite everything. Like Chanyeol had said, it really was like what he wanted- those worlds that he escaped to. Even though he was there because he was hired as an Entertainer and Yixing seemed to be way too interested in the differences of their lives, Baekhyun could overlook that if it meant he could pretend for a night.

That night, he was sitting cross legged on the white leather couch, poking curiously at the dessert in front of him. “This doesn't look edible,” he said to the gold leaves sprinkled about. And way too expensive.

Yixing laughed. “Why would I give it to you if it's not edible?”

“I don't know.” He took a small bite, savoring the fact that he was eating something he would never have. “Are you sure you're not fattening me up so you can eat me later?”

The Elite's eyes widened, horrified at that. “Where did you get that idea?”

“Uh . . . it's-” He swallowed the cake quickly. “There's an old story- a fairytale- where that happened.”

Yixing nodded thoughtfully. A moment of silence passed as Baekhyun emptied his plate. “Can you sing?” Yixing asked suddenly.

“Huh?” Baekhyun asked. It really annoyed the hell out of him how ing dumb he sounded in front of the other all the time.

“You're an Entertainer and isn't singing entertaining?”

“Uh . . .” It was true that he had learned other stuff during training, but he only did one thing on a daily (nightly) basis. “Yeah, but I don't really sing that much.”

Yixing smiled and Baekhyun couldn't help noticing how it was different from all the other smiles he had seen. It was warm, sweet, gentle and genuine. And really nice to look at.

“Come,” he said, standing up. Baekhyun followed him into a room that he'd never been to. Dim light was provided by candles placed along the perimeter of the room, giving off a romantic atmosphere instead of a depressing feel. Two comfortable armchairs were placed at the sides of a thick carpet, and in the middle of it all was a grand piano.

“This is my piano,” Yixing announced.

Well, no , Baekhyun thought distractedly.

A piano- that was a dream he had never told anyone or dared to even think about. “Can you . . . play?”

The Elite might have blushed, but it was too dark to tell and Baekhyun was still staring at the instrument. “Yeah. Actually, I was thinking that maybe I can play piano and you can sing for me.” He sat down on the leather seat and glanced at Baekhyun expectantly. “I would love to make music with you.”

I would love to make love with you- wait. What the ? He slapped himself mentally for thinking like that ert Jongin.

“Uh . . . okay.” He straightened up and let out a small smile. “Sure.”

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

Thanks seungriseyoruienn from ⚡️ Mystic Garden Graphics Shop ⚡️ for this poster!!

Short and awkward chapter (more will happen next chapter maybe) because SURPRISE! it's actually a baekxing fic kekeke