15. 

This was the 3rd floor. Yixing looked up the flight of stairs that still seemed to lead up. There was one more floor. That meant 10 more rooms upstairs. Yixing had no time. 

His hands gripped the metal bar in his hands tighter. He really hoped he would be inside this one. The old steel door was heavy and Yixing used all his strength to pull. It budged with an extremely loud thud. 

There were bones. It was too soon for him to be reduced into that. 

Yixing looked to the staircase. He could go up.

“XING-GE!” came the loud voice from opposite the hallway. Very soon, a very young looking boy came running into view. “We need to leave, the bombs are all in place, this place is going to blow.” 

“No. Jong-” Luhan stopped him short. “I need you outside. Now.”
“But Luhan, he’s upstairs!” Yixing reasoned. There was no way he would leave him here, after they had taken all the trouble to infiltrate into enemy territory. 

“Lieutenant Zhang, as your General I order you to regroup with your troops inside the safe zone.” Luhan stared him down. 

Yixing knew it was over the moment Luhan pulled his superior card on him. He gritted his teeth and sank into his oversized uniform. “Sir, yes Sir.”

Yixing looked at the building in the distance crumble down, only leaving a memory of what it once was. No one cared that his boyfriend was stuck inside the top floor of that building, lying in wait for Yixing to come save him. His heart clenched painfully, suffocating from guilt. 

Was it selfish of him to give up so easily, knowing that they’ll meet again?

A week later, Luhan was given the news that there was yet another reduction from his wing.
He needn’t ask who. 
 

1.

Have you ever felt like your life was at a standstill for someone?
Like, there was someone you were supposed to meet before continuing on its course. 

Yixing felt it in the way he picked up 5 apples on his way to work at the old lady’s shop, tossed a coin inside the supposedly blind man’s cap lying down across his house and greeted his neighbours who had twin girls. This was the same route he had been taking since 23 years ago, the destination just changed 2 years ago.

Being a rich merchant’s son has never been easy, but he didn’t feel like the reward weighed heavy enough. He had his own store where he had his own room at the back to do book keeping and keep up with the finances of his trading business. 
As he walked into his own room, filled with books on the shelves and with only a single old brush lying on the table, he almost felt tempted to just burn the whole room. But where would he go to hide from his father then?

‘Mr. Zhang, the goods just arrived at the port, we need to sign the delivery papers.’ His assistant came into his room. He sighed. Just another normal day at work. He quickly shuffled his desk for the correct documents and signed them before handing them to his assistant. If goods were only arriving today, that meant there won’t be any clients in store. Time to head out to the woods with his flute. 

Yixing liked music. He knew it since his mother used to play the zither in his house before he falls asleep. His mother has been dead for a good 5 years, but he still remembers the tune of it, and recreates it on his flute. But musicians in his time were not respected, frowned upon even. A woman’s job, they call it. But they don’t see the beauty in the unseen, sweet melody of music that soothes the heart. Yixing does. 

He usually tracks up the little hill at the outskirts of his village, and climbs all the way up to the top, where there’s a little clearing. People usually don’t come up here. There were no herb plants nor fruits to gather. It was a waste land according to most, but a treasure to a few. 

Upon climbing to the top of the hill and making sure his clothes weren’t ruined, lest he get scolded by his father, he dusted off whatever dirt that clung to his robes. He looked at his old flute. He couldn’t afford being caught at any of the music stores in his village. Word travels fast in small areas. 

Just as he brought up his flute to his lips, he heard a sound.
Not just any sound, he heard music.
That’s rare.

Yixing turned around and search the dense trees that surrounded the little clearing. Where was it coming from? The wind seemed to carry that sound through the trees through its breeze.
Yixing followed the small path that was barely visible amidst the trees. He remembers it leading to the small stream, where he often goes to wash his shoes before heading back to his small shop. He treaded the path softly - not wishing to alert the hidden musician. 

It was the same small stream that he frequented weekly, but something felt foreign. The water still reflected the sizzling sun that shone in the middle of the sky. The trees still swayed, moving in the wind that stilled carried the music with it. But a figure stood in the safety of the shades, with a strange looking capsule in his hands. Yixing noted the lithe fingers moving expertly directing the wind that was blown into the capsule, orchestrating the sweet sound just from a few holes on the instrument. 

He was so concentrated on the maneuvering of the instrument that he didn’t notice that the music had already stopped. The trees stilled.

“Hello?”

The stranger with a strange instrument who spoke a strange language. His time has started ticking.

His name was Jongdae. Kim Jongdae. He came with a ship and a plan to travel the world. This was his 3rd stop. 

At least that was what Yixing understood from various forms of hand and body language. 

---

Yixing didn’t know when he realised he fell in love with Jongdae.

Maybe it was when Jongdae invited him over dinner and cooked for him strange food, which he found surprisingly tasty.
Maybe it was when Jongdae taught him how to play the strange instrument and carved him a new one personally.
Maybe it happened when Jongdae always flashed him that smiled in the crowded market street they frequented.
Maybe it happened on the day he met Jongdae by that stream and sunlight reflected from his eyes.

Or maybe he had loved him all even before he met Jongdae. 

Yixing was just near a lake near the entrance together with Jongdae, to search for that yellow flower Jongdae said was beautiful, looking at Jongdae go around the grass, looking for that special flower, when he realised it.

Yixing fell in love with Jongdae. 

“I love you.”

Jongdae smiled. He held a yellow flower in his hand. 

“Is that its name?”

Yixing thought it was such a long answer to a simple confession.

---

“I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Yixing shook his head. He didn’t understand. But he wanted to. He felt like Jongdae was telling him something important.

“Me. Going. Tomorrow.” Jongdae gestured to his single luggage.

Oh.

“Tomorrow?!”

Jongdae nodded. 

Yixing held onto his sleeves and shook his head. 
“No. Please no.”

Jongdae looked confused. 

“Why?”

“Don’t leave.” 

Yixing wished there was a way he could make his friend understand him. He so desperately wished so. He went down on his knees and clutched at the traveller’s clothes and begged. But he knew Jongdae didn’t love him, he loved the journey more than he did Yixing. He loved adventures, meeting new people, discovering new things, delving in things he didn’t understand. Yixing was just one of the many things he found fascinating in his travels, just a good friend, a name that might appear in one of Jongdae’s diaries if he could remember Yixing’s name. 

Yixing cried. Jongdae patted his back and said something. Yixing didn’t understand. But neither did Jongdae.

---

Yixing stood at the port. He was there to send Jongdae off. 

“Will you come back?”

“Thank you for your hospitality.”

“I love you.”
“Yes, that flower, here it is.”

Jongdae left a flower with Yixing, and took his heart. 

Yixing was a merchant. He knew he had gotten the bad side of the deal. 

The sun still shone on like bright orange lantern. Yixing hated it. It had lost its sparkle. He wonders what was the point of it as he twirled that ugly flower in his hand. 

He looked out to the sea, searching for the ship that had long disappeared in the horizon, along with his heart - his physical one that was stuck between in ribcage no longer beats in the similar rhythm that he had gotten used to. 

“Young man, what are you wishing for?”

Yixing turned to his side to see an old woman - she was the one that lived outside the village, in that small hut that everyone avoided. He took a few steps back. He looked around him. He was the only one left staring into the sea. 

“That flower is powerful. It gives you everything you wish for.”

The old woman grinned and walked closer. Yixing wasn’t sure he believed her.

“But be careful of what you wish for, son.” The old woman smiled, and walked away. 

Wish? Anything he wishes for? Anything? He snorted. How will such a thing exist in this world? He twirled that flower between his thumb and forefinger. He remembers Jongdae’s smile. 

Well, if this flower was really that powerful, it would allow him to see Jongdae again. See him again in every single lifetime till Jongdae fully understood him, understood his heart. Yixing still had a debt to settle with Jongdae for stealing his heart - he wanted his. 

Yixing closed his eyes and waited.

The wind blew the flower in his palm away. The trees swayed with the breeze. Then it stilled again.

The sun was going down in the horizon. There was no sign of Jongdae nor his smile. Nothing changed. Yixing turned back around. The old lady was nothing but a liar. 



7. 

“Lay, that’s the new student. His name is-”

“Jongdae.”

Luhan looked at him. “Well, no. His name is Chen.” Yixing shook his head and stared at the student taking a seat in front of him.

“His name is Jongdae.” Yixing would have known his name by heart by now. 

“How did you guys know my Korean name?” the new student turned around with wide eyes. Luhan just shook his head and pointed at Yixing. 

“You told me before.” Yixing just stared. He had been waiting for this for so long. How many times had he seen him now? 5th? He still has that same heart-stopping smile. 

“I did?” Jongdae looked at him quizzically. Yixing also knows that expression well enough now. This means that Jongdae was confused, interested and amused at the same time. 

“But this is the first time I’m meeting you…”
“Yixing.” Luhan introduced for him.

Jongdae was in his youth this time. Yixing has never seen him like this before. 

“Why do you never remember me?”

Luhan and Jongdae stared at him.

“Is your friend alright?”
“I’m not sure either.”

---

Jongdae joined the choir. Yixing was the president of the chess club. Choir practice was on Wednesdays and Fridays, but sometimes Tuesdays too. Chess club had trainings on Mondays and Thursdays 

Yixing stayed behind in school everyday.

“You’re stalking him.”
“No I’m not. I have every right to be in school.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re stalking him.”
“Why can’t I be watching you sing?”
“You can. But you aren’t.”
“That’s true. Your face looks horrible when you sing high notes. It’s like a chicken about to choke itself.” 

Jongdae looked over from watching his teacher over at the quarrelling pair just in time to watch Luhan deliver a hard punch to Yixing. Jongdae winced. That must hurt. 

The break time was almost over. Luhan jogged back to where he stood, in front, and he saw that Yixing just stayed in the audience seats. Yixing had been coming every practice and occupying that same seat all the way at the back of the hall where they were practicing for the upcoming school festival. He wondered if Yixing had nothing better to do than stare at him for 3 hours. He wasn’t stupid (if Yixing thought he was, in anyway), but he wasn’t about to confront his admirer stalker.

---

“Why don’t you just talk to him?” Luhan took a sip of his green bubble tea. The green tea flavor was great. He needs to remember to buy the same one tomorrow. 

“I do.” 
“Yixing, staring at the poor boy hoping he’d notice and recommend you to the nearest mental hospital isn’t exactly termed as ‘talking’.” 

Yixing sighed. He doesn’t know how to do this. He remembered the second time he saw Jongdae, he ran up to him and hugged him so tight that he had a court order filed against him, which prevented him from going within 5m radius of Kim Jongdae. Who’d have guessed Jongdae was a president-in-candidacy? 

---

Jongdae took slower steps to match his pace to that of his companion beside him. He looked to his right. Yixing had his head down as always - his classmate never looked at him directly. 

“Where do you stay?” Jongdae finally asked. He wasn’t used to someone walking him home. 

“Not far.” came the soft reply. 
Jongdae stopped walking, there was something that had been bugging him since the first day he met Yixing.

“How did you actually know my Korean name?”

Yixing stopped a few feets behind him.

“I just do.”

Jongdae was welcomed into the ‘Let’s-just-be-happy-with-Yixing’s-existence-and-not-bother-with-his-brain’ club the next day happily by Luhan.

----

Jongdae thinks Yixing is a special friend. Well, he is special to all that have met him. But, to Jongdae, he’s even more special. He’s sweet. He’s charming. He’s a little awkward. He’s a little shy. Everything he would want in his potential boyfriend, that is, if he was looking for one.

----

“Who is that?” Luhan peeped over Jongdae’s shoulder into his phone’s background screen.

Jongdae just smiled. 

“My boyfriend, in Korea.” 

Yixing’s face darkened - but everyone was too busy fawning over Minseok’s cute round cheeks to notice any shift in the atmosphere. 



11.

Being an arts student majoring in photography, it was part of Yixing’s coursework to turn up in the Arts Gallery of Seoul every week, just pouring through the different angles of photographs and paintings that were displayed there. Needless to say he has finished his analysis of those that were hung publicly. But no, his professors didn’t think he had learnt enough of the ways of capturing the art of moving life. So, Yixing now sits in the archived section of the huge museum, surrounded by nothing but dust and wooden relic that encompassed small to huge captured art. 

“Enjoying your time here?” A pile of books suddenly appeared by his side, together with the petite gallery attendant.

“Thanks, Minseok.” Yixing rarely had any human contact, being stuck many walls deep into the gallery - where people rarely ventured into. 

“You might want to start with the 17th century works - it was the start of it anyway.” the quiet man offered. Yixing was glad at least someone wanted to help him get through the old works that had nothing to do with his final projects - Modernism. 

Sighing, he nodded and flipped through the ancient works. 

Only one picture stood out. 

“Hmm.. you’re looking into portraits now?”

Yixing sighed, as he traced the name on the wooden carvings. Kim Jongdae. He was too late in this life as well.


20.

Yixing liked to think he would have his life would have some salvation after all the that he went through in his teenage life. A e for a mother, an alcoholic for a father sounds like a typical sob story that played through the TVs nowadays. He was waiting for the time he would grow up and find his big break - but apparently fairy tales only come true for princes and he wasn’t one. He was a dirty street rat. 

He inhaled the stick that his boss so generously gave him for stealing the whole trunk of arms tucked away securely in their hideout. It was cancerous - but it was also addictive. It takes him away from the present life. Yixing doesn’t think he’d need things to distract him from life itself, when it was so preciously given to him from the ed up God or whatever existed high up above. Yixing would like to think such a higher power doesn’t exist. Because if they did, they were doing a ed up job. He inhaled more tar inside before he let the cigarette drop to the ground and stamped the flame out of it. 

“Work starts in a few hours.” Jongin grunted from beside him. 

Work meaning getting more punches, more kicks and possibly a few bullet wounds in courtesy of another gang. It was the same old job Yixing had been doing for the past 2 years, honestly he thinks he’s been granted a long life because it was a ty one. 

Yixing feels his skin prickle at the sounds of footsteps approaching their hideout. He saw Sehun, one of the newbies, stiffen and feel for the knife that was tucked at his back. 

Yixing let out a sigh and looked up at the rusty metal bars that supported a lone light source that was dangling on a pathetic wire - maybe he would die here, tonight.

He didn’t. But Sehun, the newbie did. He pulled out the knife too late. It was a pity. 

But Yixing wished he died instead - because he was forced to kill Jongdae.

Recognising the love of his life in the middle of a gang fight wasn’t how Yixing envisioned the start of his romantic fantasy to be. As Yixing stabbed straight into the heart of a lanky guy, he saw sharp and fast movements from the other side of the garage. Looking up, he saw the same sharp jawlines and high cheekbones that drawn him to Jongdae all those… how many lifetimes has it been..? He lost count. He wasn’t counting anymore. 

Because those were the number of times he let Jongdae slip right through his fingers. 





24.

Sometimes Yixing wonders why humans go through all that heart breaks for. Why do we endure someone torturing us from afar? Why do we give someone that power over us to decide our happiness? Why do we allow that person to control our very meaning of existence?

When did he allow Jongdae such power over him?

Many lives ago. 

Yixing sighed, as he took another sip of his coffee - already cold, he noticed. 

He watched Jongdae arranging the flowers from across the street. He had discovered this small Korean man maintaining those flowers by sheer luck when he stopped in this coffee shop to get his caffeine fix before showing up for work. Like many times before, he recognised Jongdae in an instant. But instead of approaching the man, like he had done so many lives before, he waits.

Would Jongdae still like him after all those lives?

Yixing feels like an extra character in the movie, whose job was to watch helplessly as the main actor falls in love and let the storyline end too soon. Why was he stuck in such a cursed state? 

Yixing watched as Jongdae picked up those yellow daises and started to arrange them into a new pot. After all those lives, he still finds Jongdae as breathtaking as the very first time he met him. How was that possible?

He feels the same fire burning in him everytime he recognises Jongdae’s face in all those lives. He has felt the same fire consume him and burn him in the end because Jongdae was never his. Yixing sighed again. He feels hopeless.

He didn’t welcome this spark in him if it was going to destroy his very being. He no longer appreciated the rapid heart beats and clammy hands where Jongdae was concerned, it will only leave him with a heavier heart and silent and numbing pain in the end. He doesn’t even know why this kept on repeating. He wants it to stop. Should he wish again? To let him never to see Jongdae again. He feels that it would be easier. 

Yixing looked at Jongdae again. This time, the man was at the cashier, checking out a bouquet of roses for a tall man with a wide grin and wider ears. Yixing briefly hopes for a second whoever those roses were meant for wouldn’t appreciate them and break that man’s wide grin just so another human being in this world could sympathise with his heart breaking consecutively for many lifetimes. 

----

Yixing stands at the front of the shop. He had no reasons to buy flowers, but he needed to meet the florist - so an excuse was needed, so he doesn’t come off too creepy and end up in Jongdae rejecting him, like one of those times. 

Yixing pushed the door, which resulted in a clear ringing of the bell.

“Good morning! Welcome! May I help you?” Jongdae turned to smile at him, in the midst of t off thorns. 

“uh.. I- I-..” Way to go Yixing, he patted himself mentally. 

“What’s the occasion? Maybe you could use some suggestions?” Jongdae offered softly, tilting his head to the side. Yixing nodded.

“For a funeral.” Aren’t you just delightful, Yixing?

“Oh. Hmm. We do sell the standard funeral wreaths - or would you like something special?”

“The standard ones are fine.” Yixing manage to croak out. Jongdae nodded and went inside the back of the shop. 

Yixing took the time to look around the shop - it was a normal florist shop, with Chinese writings on the wall. This surprised Yixing - he has never seen a Korean shop with such decorations. 

Jongdae soon returned with a white rounded lily wreath - “Will this do?” Jongdae smiled. Yes, Yixing thinks. This will do just fine. 

Every week, on Tuesday, he will go back to that flower shop, requesting for different arrangements of flowers. He’d ask his colleague, Luhan for a different excuse to go back to the shop everytime. Luhan was a supportive friend, when he wasn’t spouting nonsense - The excuse this week should be the pre-celebration of my in your .

It was Tuesday again today. 

“Good morning, Yixing, what would you like today?” Jongdae smiled at him from his counter. Yixing blushed.

“Is my routine becoming that regular?” Jongdae just smiled and readjusted his apron. “Yes, I think so. I always expect you to be my first customer on Tuesdays.” Yixing chuckled, he was becoming so transparent, his crush on Jongdae was so obvious. 

“So, what do you need the flowers for this week?” Jongdae looked at him with twinkling eyes. Yixing recalled his conversation with Luhan at the office yesterday - “A baby shower this week.” This created a laugh from Jongdae. Yixing was curious and cocked his head to the side, silently waiting for an answer. 

Jongdae just shook his head and waved his hand. “No, I just found it amusing that you actually have an excuse every week.” Yixing blushed even harder. So, he was really that transparent. “A baby shower it is then.”

 

Yixing twirled his pen in his cubicle. “I would give a penny for your thoughts, but I don’t need to, because I know they’re all about the new florist near the cafe.” Luhan walked in confidently with a coffee at hand, ready to battle the day. 

“He knows I like him.” Yixing confessed. Luhan looked above the coffee cup and straight at him. “I’m not surprised. Who doesn’t?” Luhan continued to observe the slump nature of Yixing’s body over his table. 

“Honestly, why are you so depressed? The guy knows you like him and actually lets you give him lame excuses to visit him every week. Saves you the trouble of confessing and just take him out on a date.” 

Yixing pursed his lips. Luhan had a point. But the previous lives proved otherwise.

Honestly, Yixing had given up hope long ago that him and Jongdae would get a happy ending. It just wasn’t possible. Love was hard. Getting a happy ending was hard. 

Yixing sat at the same spot inside the cafe just watching Jongdae work across the street. He looked at the way Jongdae’s face light up when he faced the flowers and held them delicately with his fingertips. 

But wanting to be happy was inevitable.

Just one time, one more time. He would try. Because he just couldn’t give Jongdae up yet. Who knows? This may the very last life he’d have the luck of meeting Jongdae again. He can’t give it up. Not yet, not when Jongdae was ed in front of him. He put down his coffee cup and walked across the street. 

----
----
----

”How long have you liked me?” 

“Too long, Jondae, too long.”

“Don’t make that face, it’s true.”

”You know I don’t really believe in reincarnation and all that stuff.” 

“You don’t have to. I’m telling you what I went through.”

”Just shut up and kiss me.”

----
----
----

No one told Yixing that life didn’t stop at happy endings.

“Hey… Yixing. You came.” Yixing’s hard gripped tighter at the wheelchair, willing that metal thing underneath his hands to disappear just so he wouldn’t have to accept reality. 

“Meet someone new after I’m gone.” Yixing shook his head even though Jongdae wouldn’t be able to see it. 

“No. No. I thought I told you. It’s you and it’ll always be you.” Yixing felt dry skin going cold even though Jongdae was under 3 blankets. Yixing started to sob uncontrollably. He knows that a separation was apparent. 

“You had me, Yixing. Now you have to let me go.” Yixing’s chest was shaking violently. No, he doesn’t want to give up. This life was the best. It had been the best. There was nothing to take Jongdae away from him and this ing cancer wasn’t going to either.

Why was it that in his happiest times with Jongdae comes the saddest separation? 

“What if I don’t meet you again Jongdae?” 

“Learn to love someone else.” Jongdae’s voice was thin but steady. Yixing was never the strong one. He can’t do it. He can’t let Jongdae go, not yet. He hasn’t had enough of him yet. He wants Jongdae to be forever beside him - loving him. 

“Yixing, we don’t live forever.” Yixing felt his tears flow as the truth seeped through his heart. 

“We never have a happy ending, Jongdae.” 

Yixing felt a cold hand pat his warm ones gently. “No love story ever has a happy ending. Because endings are never happy. We had a happy story, that’s all that matters.” 

Yixing felt a gentle squeeze. “My story has ended, Yixing. But yours hasn’t. Even though you think I’m your story, I’m just a chapter. I hope my chapter was an important one though.” Jongdae chuckled softly, before it turned into a coughing fit. Yixing grabbed the blankets and pulled them tighter around Jongdae. 

“But I love you.” 

“And I know that.” Yixing could feel Jongdae smiling through his fingertips. “I love you too.” Jongdae turned his wheel chair around and faced Yixing. 

Yixing bent down, holding what was left of his sick lover. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t love you any more and won’t be able to any longer.” Yixing couldn’t stop his tears. He desperately wanted to.

“Because of you, I understand what loving someone meant.” Jongdae continued, wiping the tears on Yixing’s face away. It was no use, the tears kept blurring Yixing’s view of Jongdae’s brilliant smile - which still shone through the numerous chemotherapy sessions that drained all colour off Jongdae’s face.

“Thank you for loving me, Yixing.” Jongdae continued smiling. Yixing continued crying. 

“But I’m giving you your heart back. Don’t let it follow me.” Yixing shook his head immediately. No. 

“Don’t worry though, you’ll have mine forever.” Yixing ended up choking with his head buried in Jongdae’s lap. 

Jongdae pressed gently against Yixing’s chest, and titled his head up. Yixing felt cold and chapped lips against his. He had never expected kisses with Jongdae to be any less than sweet and endearing. 

Yixing learnt what bittersweet meant. It meant salty tears with the taste of the ocean breeze on dry lips. 

“That’s your heart back. Keep it with you until you find someone worthy of it.” Yixing clenched at the fabric under his fingers. How was he going to endure this? How will he ever get over it? 

----
----
----

Yixing overlooked the ocean that he came with Jongdae just a day before he died. He put a hand on his chest. It was hollow. Jongdae didn’t give him his heart back. It doesn’t work like that, Jongdae.

Yixing realised something when he kicked a pebble off the cliff. 

It doesn’t matter if he sees Jongdae again. 
It doesn’t matter if he recognises Jongdae.
It doesn’t matter if Jongdae liked him or not.
It doesn’t matter. 

Because he would fall in love with Jongdae all over again. 
Because he would chase Jongdae again, through many lives, if he has to, just to taste that bittersweet kiss of separation.

Because Yixing loved Jongdae. 

He doesn’t need to hold onto Jongdae to know that fact. 
He doesn’t need Jongdae to love him back like he does to believe that fact.

He simply loved Kim Jongdae. And nothing was going to change it. Not all those lives and those heartbreaks that follow. Because his heart can break a million times loving Jongdae and it’d be worth it.





25.

“Yixing, this is Jongae, he’ll be in EXO-M from today onwards. You have to help him with his Chinese. Well, you can help Minseok as well, but he’d be guided by Luhan, since they’re really close.” Kris briefed him, with a short Korean man by his side. 

“Hi, I’m Jongdae!”

Yixing stared at him. 

“Hi! I’m Yixing! I don’t think we’ve met before though!” Yixing chuckled. 

“Oh! I’ve seen you around though! You’re always the last one to leave the studio.” Yixing blushed. He didn’t think anyone would catch him practising at night. 

----

“Looking at something?” Yixing almost dropped his water bottle. Luhan had sneaked up from behind him. 

“Yeah, Jongdae has been practising all day, since we’re going to debut soon.”

Luhan nodded. “Yeah, he must be stressed, since we’re going to debut in China and all.”

Yixing just shrugged. “He’ll do well. I know he will.”

Luhan nudged at his side and smirked. “You seem to know him pretty well, Yixing. Met him before?”

Yixing frowned, seriously giving it a thought. “No, not really.”

Yixing looked to the small figure restarting their dance routine for their debut title song, “But I’ll get to know him.”