✏ project exo {chapter five}
p r o j e c t e x o : chapter five
⇢ authors: illegiblesigns and mouthwash
⇢ fandom: exo
⇢ pairings: various
⇢ 5810 words
⇢ pg-13 (possible disturbing content)
Three weeks had passed since Lay stopped giving Suho the drugs. Lay walked through the corridors, typing little notes in his tablet (in a file he created specifically to document the Prototype's improvement. He was more talkative, open, and even his control of his ability was showing signs of advancement. Which granted Suho a few pats on the back from General Changmin and words of encouragement from the rest of the Prototypes. He was slowly regaining his confidence.
About four steps away from the elevator doors Lay realized he had forgotten his key-card. Cursing at himself, he turned around and headed back to the lab. This happened more often than Lay would like to admit. Forgetting things was a part of his daily life. The key-card never seemed to be in the right place, his tablet had a habit of disappearing, and strangers on the street had to warn him that the zipper on his bag was undone.
Another intern held the door for him. He passed by the young woman, offering her a shy “thank you so much” and running to his desk, the key-card sitting there mockingly. This routine was getting exhausting.
He wasn’t quite sure when it all started. He has been a forgetful person ever since he could remember. Forgetting to tie his shoelaces, the passcode to his parent’s house, his teacher’s name, the full address of the boy’s home after his parents were arrested. Lay's life consisted of making detailed to-do lists, self-notes, and setting alarms on his tablet to remind himself of the most trivial things. He ended up thinking of his mother. She was the one who taught him how to make lists. When he was little, she spread post-its around the house.
Don’t forget to take your vitamins.
Your ID card is on the shelf by the door.
Your math test is in two days.
We love you very much. Never forget.
He was running late for his first day of school. Lay lived in Corinth back then. The Skytrain station just a couple of blocks away from his parent’s modest two bedroom house. He had less than three minutes to make it to the station. His backpack feeling heavy on his shoulders as he ran down the street.
A voice echoed through the street, calling his name. Not the name he goes by now, but the name that was erased when his parents were arrested. That was the last time he had heard it. After that, a man in a suit handed him a new ID card. A new identity so he wouldn’t be associated with terrorists. A clean slate, they said. But of course, second chances come with a price. A very expensive debt.
He turned around to see his mother waving at him in the middle of the street, left hand waving his school ID card, and he ran down to meet her, apologizing furiously. She ran her fingers through his hair saying it was okay and planted a kiss on the top of his head.
“Silly head of yours. Too busy plotting plans to denominate the universe to remember the little things. That’s why I’m here,” she brushed his bangs away from his face. “Just worry about the big stuff. I will handle the rest.”
“Thanks, mom,” he said, wrapping his skinny arms around her torso.
That was the last time he saw her.
Later that evening, he came home to a government agent standing in the kitchen.
The doors to Suho’s room opened with a beep. He tried to push away all those memories. Suho needed him. He needed stability.
He found the Prototype walking in circles in front of his desk. A mass of water hanging above his head, slowly getting bigger and then retracting back to a water bottle. Lay watched, marveled, noticing that each time the process happened faster. Until the water was zipping through the air so quickly it was a blur.
“Shoot it on the window. With the right pressure I’m sure it will break it,” Lay said, sitting his bag down on the floor and crossing his arms. “After that it’s only a ten minute walk to the train station. I head Phoebes is nice this time of year.”
“What?” Suho stopped pacing, the globe of water above him wobbled, almost losing it’s form. He quickly regained his concentration, sending the mass back into the bottle.
“A joke,” Lay snickered at Suho’s confused expression. The boy’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head.
“It’s just a matter of time,” Suho said grimly. “We are going to escape.”
Lay froze in his place, feeling like the walls of the Prototype’s room were closing in on him and Suho’s hopeful gaze made him feel so small.
What can I do to help?
“You can’t.” They could. It was possible. If they came together, who could stop them? And if they were successful, tracking them in Hera was almost impossible. The
government would never reveal their existence to the public. Maybe they could run to a minor nation with no political ties. Maybe if the truth came out people would rally to their support.
Still, it was too risky. Too many variables and Lay never liked what if’s.
“Help us,” Suho said.
“What if something goes wrong? They wouldn’t hesitate on killing you. Or me.” Lay was the one pacing now, hands balled into fists in his pockets. “Not that I don’t want to help it’s just¬-”
“It’s worth the risk. I’ve never wanted anything more than this my entire life.” Suho’s posture was different. He seemed sure of himself and a far cry from the tiny scared creature Lay had met a while ago.
He could be happy and live a normal life after this.
Realization dawned on him when the Prototype’s hand found his, fingers interlacing gently. Lay’s heartbeat climbed rapidly.
I want to be part of it.
“Have you told anyone else? Your professor?” He asked, Suho’s thumb made small circles on this inside of his wrist, the warmth of his touch was inviting. He took a sit next to him on the bed.
“No,” Suho looked down at their hands. Lay followed his gaze and saw droplets of water moving around their fingers. Suho looked up, beaming. “You’re the only one I trust.”
When Lay left the room it was almost midnight. They talked for a bit and Suho told him about the Prototype's plans, his voice almost a whisper but excitement never left his eyes. Lay had never seen him more alive. After a while, the conversation faded into a comfortable silence. Their fingers still laced together over the blankets. It took forever for Suho to fall asleep, the boy was restless over their escape plan.
On his way to the train station he called Tao. There was no way he could do this alone and he had no one else he could trust.
“When we met, you told me that you worked with computers back in Kronos?” Lay said as soon as Tao answered.
“Yeah?” Tao voice was hoarse. He was probably sleeping already but Lay couldn’t wait until the next day.
“Let's leave work a little earlier tomorrow. I’m gonna need your help with something.”
-
Three weeks have gone by since Chanyeol first entered the Center as an employee, but he still couldn’t actually believe how fast time flew. He looked at himself on the elevator mirror, all tidy in his suit, the necktie making him feel uncomfortable. But Chanyeol knew better than try to loosen it up. My father would kill me if I showed up to this restaurant looking like a slob, he thought, while the elevator doors opened and he had a view of Parnell’s, the finest restaurant in Hera, and Chanyeol had to hold himself to not make some stupid face.
The place was beautiful, surrounded by gigantic windows instead of walls, which gave the customers a view of New Rome's nightlife. The tables were round, made of black glass with round chairs. Chanyeol could spot his father sitting on a far away table, near the windows.
“Mr. Park? This way, please,” the maître made a small reverence, gesturing for Chanyeol to follow him. On his way to his father table, Chanyeol took a glimpse with the corner of eyes of the other costumers, actors, actresses and important political figures. He felt a heavy load on his chest, the scene of the Gaza streets came to his head. How can this be the same city? But Chanyeol forgot everything about Gaza and it's misery when his father glanced up at him, a severe look on his face.
“You’re late,” he said, simply, and Chanyeol gave him a sad smile. He wouldn’t reply or even try to explain himself. It was the first time his father invited him to dinner in years and he couldn't screw it up.
“I’m sorry, father,” he sat down, looking through the window. Far away, he could see tunnel that let to Gaza and wondered what Tao and Lay were doing at that very moment. Probably having fun at the Jazz Club, he thought, bitter.
“Always apologizing,” his father whined and he gestured to the maitre, “we’ll want the Roasted Duck with Apples and Grapes, please. And two glasses of the finest wine you have here.”
“Are we celebrating anything?” Chanyeol asked, hiding the annoyance he felt by the fact that he wasn’t even allowed to choose his own food.
“Yes, we are,” his father joined his hands together, placing them on the table, and it was the first time Chanyeol noticed how old he looked. The years and years he spent on the Center, having time for nothing but his work took its toll. “You don’t know it yet, I suppose?”
“Know what?” Chanyeol asked but he was cut off by the maitre bringing their order, all fancy and beautiful. And small, he thought, looking at the tiny amount of food in his plate. He couldn’t help but remember of the massive plate of spaghetti Lay cooked to them that night, after the party, while they all crashed at Tao’s tiny studio apartment. He watched as his father took a bite of the food, a greasy marveled expression of his face.
“Project Exo is finally meeting its end,” Dr. Park said and Chanyeol felt something weird inside him when he saw his father’s lip open up a huge, relieved smile. “The Project was a success and our beautiful President wants us to put it on the field immediately.”
His father kept his smile but despite the sweet fruits he was chewing, Chanyeol felt a bitter taste on his mouth.
“And what does that mean? The Prototypes will go to war?” His father looked up to him with his mouth full and Chanyeol tried his best for him to not notice the flutter on his voice, “I mean, It’s true that some of them are quite ready, but I do think Baek-I mean, Prototype Lux needs some extra work.”
Chanyeol stopped when he heard his father laugh a little too exaggeratedly, making heads turn to them from the neighboring tables. The boy could feel his throat go dry and he took a sip of his wine, his head feeling heavy. There’s something wrong.
“My stupid boy, do you think our nation would put all its hopes on five boys? Are you really that dumb?” He took his napkin, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Of course not. These five kids were nothing but Prototypes, don’t you know the meaning of the word? It’s a preliminary version of a device. We’re just testing the genes, seeing how they would work on people.”
“I thought you’d already tested this, even before the Prototypes, father,” Chanyeol’s voice was shaking with anger.
“Don’t you talk at me like that!” he whispered furiously, “ you were different. I had to be sure everything would work to pass my project to the Government! I can’t believe you’re bringing this up right now.” He ran his fingers through his hair with exasperation, “this is all past stuff.”
It may be past to you, Chanyeol thought but he decided it was best to keep his mouth shut.
“So what’s gonna happen with the Prototypes?” Chanyeol tried to sound casual, but the way his voice trembled at the end betrayed him. “Are they gonna be released or something?”
“No, Chanyeol, of course not,” he sighed, already out of his patience. “They are dangerous, they are weapons. How can you release a weapon and let it walk around the town freely?”
“Well, you tell me, father,” the boy said before he could stop himself and Dr. Park slammed his fist on the table.
“Enough. They are not going to be released. They’ll be disposed by the end of this week, does this answer your question? Fuck, Chanyeol, I invite you for dinner and all you do is torment me with your boring work talk,” he stopped speaking, looking at Chanyeol with disapproval, but the boy was too busy replaying the word disposed in his head to actually pay any attention to his father’s tantrum.
“Disposed? What do you mean by disposed?” He asked, his hands turning into fists. “Are they going to be killed?”
His father placed his wine glass on the table, looking at Chanyeol as if he was the stupidest person in the whole world. I guess I am, he thought. He looked back at him, his face he couldn’t hide his disgust, already knowing the answer. Chanyeol could feel the flames inside him screaming to be released, like there was fire running through his veins, his fingertips burning hot pressed against his palms.
“No, we won’t kill them. How can you kill something that was never alive in the first place?”
--
Adrenaline rushed all over his body, his hands still shaking when he took out his card to pay the magnetic-taxi. It slipped through his finger and falling on the wet floor. He didn’t know when it started to rain but he could feel the water running through his hair, calming him down. His father face came to his mind and Chanyeol brushed it off, his chest still aching.
I can’t believe I fought with him, he thought, flashes of red flames flickering on his palm and his father frightened face running through his mind, while walking with long strides towards the Center. Maybe it was because he was so angry at that moment but he couldn’t really recall the details of what happened, when he noticed he was already inside a cab, his whole body burning with the strength of his power and anger.
Chanyeol almost ran through the reception, water dripping from his clothes and he knew he was getting weird looks from everyone but he didn’t really care.
I need to talk to him, he thought, placing his keycard on the elevator, brushing off his anxiety by breathing in and out until he reached his destination.
The Third Floor was completely empty, if it wasn’t by some soldiers on the corridors, and Chanyeol felt relieved when he noticed the most of them were people who were usually stationed by Prototypes' rooms. Chanyeol walked through the place until he reached the door he was looking for. He had to stop in front of it for a while. Even though he walked through that door every day for last three weeks, he felt his heart pounding inside his chest. Things are different now, he thought, I’m free.
Chanyeol opened the door to find the room filled with darkness, just a small spark of light coming from Baekhyun’s hands while he was trying to light up his room. The boy turned around with a confused look.
“Chanyeol, is that you?”
His voice was a soft whisper and Chanyeol felt like the weight he was carrying was being unloaded just by seeing him. I like him, he thought in all his new found sincerity. Baekhyun tilted his head, a worried expression and Chanyeol knew he was wondering why he was there, after lights out, in a suit, soaking wet and with red eyes and a swollen face.He felt like he could trace Baekhyun’s thoughts just by looking at his eyes. And in that moment, he felt like the biggest dumbass in the world because at some point he turned that boy down.
Chanyeol didn’t even try to control himself this time. He walked towards Baekhyun, holding the boy's small face with his hands, looking deeply inside his shocked eyes before closing the distance between them. He could feel Baekhyun’s lips trembling, his tongue hot against his own, their teeth clashing slightly due to the contrast against Chanyeol's eagerness and Baekhyun's restrain. A mirror representation their awkwardness and meekness. It didn’t fit perfectly, there were no fireworks or bursting colors, but Chanyeol thought it was perfect.
Baekhyun was the first to break their kiss, his eyes widening when he noticed that the room was pitch black. He turned up his palms, and they grew brighter, light spreading through his fingers until he joined them, creating a fluorescent sphere. He looked back at Chanyeol, who had the stupidest smile on his face.
“I like you,” Chanyeol said before Baekhyun could even start speaking, “and I know I said all those things before, and you probably think I’m crazy right now. But, fuck-Baekhyun, I like you so damn much. But I couldn’t tell you that. I’m such an idiot. How feel this way and not tell you that when I’ve been lying to you this whole time?”
He took Baekhyun’s hands on his own, taking a deep breath closing his eyes, trying his best to shut down any memory of his father-or his mother-at that moment.
I need to let go of the past. He is my present.
The boy stayed silent looking at him, disoriented.
“You say you’re a monster, well, I’m the same. You see, my father is the chief of this whole madness and he implanted the mutated gene on me when I was two years old,” he said it all too fast and Baekhyun looked at him confused.
“I don’t understand-”
“I’m-I’m just like you,” he stammered. He placed his index finger in front of Baekhyun's face, a tiny orange glimmer traveled up his wrists, up his hand, until it reached the tip of his finger. A tiny flame twinkled on top of it, like a burning candle. The Prototype gasped out loud, covering his mouth with his hands, his eyes wide at him.
“Chanyeol, I-”
“Just listen. If you say anything I’ll lose my courage. I had an argument with my father today, I-” he stopped, closing his eyes. No, that’s way too recent, he thought, the words choking him, I’ll talk to him about it, I’ll tell everything to him, but not now, “the important thing is I’m sick of hiding things from you, Baekhyun. I’m sick of lying. Now I’m laying all the cards out. I’m resigning from my job here in the Center, but I want to help you. I want to help you to leave this place, you have to leave,” the word disposal filled his mind again, but Chanyeol had no plans of telling Baekhyun that, he didn’t want to scare him, “it’s not fair that I can live freely while you’re-”
“You’re right. It’s not fair,” Baekhyun interrupted in a cold voice. Chanyeol looked up and Baekhyun had his lips pressed together, an indecipherable look on his face. “It’s not fair that you get to live it up, go to parties, have girlfriends while my friends and I live a miserable life and you get a free pass because you are the boss’ son?”
“No, no, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol laughed, nervous, “you’re getting it all wrong-”
“No, Chanyeol. You’re the one getting it all wrong. You come here, spill all these things and now what do you want? You want me to pity you?” he gave a out a bitter chuckle, looking at Chanyeol with something that looked too much like disgust, “I thought we were friends. I did understand when you refused me, but I won’t forgive you for lying. I showed you a side of me that I never showed even for my closest friends. And you hid everything from me!” He stood up, “please, leave!”
“Baek-,” Chanyeol started, in despair, trying to reach for the boy but Baekhyun was completely out of his grasp, refusing to look at him. “Don’t do this to me! It wasn’t my fault that I became this way. I never had a choice. How was I supposed to tell you?” He watched as the boy walked towards the door and his heart raced inside his chest, “You can’t treat me like this! I’m one of you-”
“No, you’re not! You’ll never be one of us! Do you even know what we have been through? We’ve been through hell and back. We’ve suffered horrid things while you were partying outside-”
“I had my share of suffering too, Baekhyun, don’t you dare to talk to me as if you know my life,” Chanyeol exploded, standing up as well.
“I don’t give a fuck about your privileged life,” he shouted and Chanyeol felt his heart pulsing in his throat. No, no, no, this wasn’t supposed to happen.
Baekhyun turned on his heels to face him again, and Chanyeol had to look away because he couldn’t stand the hatred on the boy’s eyes, while he got dangerously closer to him.
“And exactly, I don’t know anything about you. I gave you my trust and you paid me back with lies.” He whispered the last word and he was so close now that Chanyeol could feel Baekhyun’s breath against his skin, the lips that a few minutes ago, he felt against his own just a some centimeters away. His eyes lingered on Baekhyun's lips because the thing he wanted most in the world was to kiss him again. To take away all his hurt feelings. To make him understand.
“I’m sorry I disappointed you so much,” he said instead, his eyes lost into Baekhyun’s dark ones, “I’ll make sure you won’t see me ever again.”
“Please, do,” Baekhyun whispered, looking away, their hands touching slightly while Chanyeol made his way out, each step screamed of regret, his hand lingered by the keypad, not wanting this to be over. As soon as the door closed there was no turning back. He wondered if this was the last time he would ever see Baekhyun and the thought was enough to make his hands tremble.
He hoped not, because this wasn't like them. They argued about silly things, mocked each other to death, picked their own faults apart, until the both of there were doubled up laughing at their own missteps. Their moments together were filled with lightness, and Chanyeol could always count on Baekhyun to lift the weight of his troubles off his shoulders with a simple smile, a shy word of comfort, a soft touch that lingered on his skin a little longer.
In his mind, this was all a joke, and soon Baekhyun would run back, wrap his arms around him and say "gotcha!"
But it didn't happen.
He walked out the Prototype’s room.
-
“You gotta be kidding me.”
Tao’s eyes went wide. The coffee mug he was nursing between his hands was scorching, but he simply couldn’t move. Lay sat across from him with pleading eyes. They were practically alone in the jazz club, which had just opened its doors, it was barely six o'clock when they walked in after giving their superiors some crap excuse in order to meet up in the train station and take the first train back to Gaza. A woman stood behind them, cleaning a table and setting the chairs on the wood floor.
“This is it, Tao,” Lay placed his mug on the table, “we can’t sit around and do nothing. We have to help them.”
This had nothing to do with his mission; still he calculated the risks in his head. If the Prototypes indeed managed to escape the Center, this could damage Athena’s war effort for a while.
“What could I do? I mean, I’m only a kitchen boy. I do dishes. I make sure the rice doesn’t burn,” he said, before taking a sip of his coffee. It was terrible, but the waitress did warn them that the taste would be a little different. It was imported from Egypt and it had cost far too much.
“If we could cause an evacuation, the security in the Center would become more lax, and maybe the Prototypes can sneak out the emergency exists. I know there’s one in the machinery room that leads to the tunnel in Delos Avenue-”
“Whoa, do you realize that in an evacuation the first thing they would check would be the Prototypes? The third floor would be put in a lockdown,” Tao pursed his lips. The idea itself wasn’t too bad. It could work with a little tweaking. “If I can get access to the mainframe I could put a block on their response system. I don’t know for a how long, but it would give them enough time to exit the building. And then what?”
Lay simply sighed in response, running his hands through his hair, and placing them over his eyes. Soft music began playing in the background as the woman who served them approached their table.
“Can I get you anything else?” She said with a warm smile, placing a lock of pitch-black hair behind her ear.
They wave her away as politely as possible. She took two steps back before turning on her heels and heading over to the bar, a curious smile on her red lips. As soon as she was out of earshot, Tao leaned in, fingers curling around his mug.
“I’ll help you, okay?” He whispered and Lay’s hands fell from his face, a tiny smile crept up his lips. “But we need to plan this out. It has to be perfect. Any slip and we’re all dead, or even worse, arrested and tortured for life.”
Lay’s expression turned dark. Tao thought he probably was thinking of his parents.
The bell on the main entrance of the club rang and the two of them whipped their heads back. Chanyeol stood by the door, hair and shoulders wet by omnipresent rain that had accompanied Hera that week. He shook his head, droplets of water falling everywhere. Tao thought he resembled a wet golden retriever, shaking off the water after coming back home from a walk in the rain.
Lay raised his hand and gestured for him to join them. Chanyeol took long strides, taking a sit on the chair next to Tao.
“Glad you could make it,” Lay said, he had a sympathetic look on his eyes.
“It was hard to find a cab that would come all this way,” Chanyeol said, removing his wet forest green sweater and dropping it on the floor. Tao thought that thing probably cost more than his rent.
“You took a cab?” Lay said, probably a couple of decibels higher than he should. The woman behind the bar shot them a look, "all the way from New Rome to here?"
“Yeah I just-” Chanyeol stopped, hands digging in his pockets and coming up his bank card. He chuckled bleakly and rolled his eyes. “I just spent the last bit of money I had.”
Bit.
Tao wanted to laugh. That last bit of money was probably enough to feed dinner to a family of four for a whole week. Lay had told him about Chanyeol’s situation, his argument with his father, and everything else. This was the perfect opportunity for him to get closer so he could gain Chanyeol's trust. Maybe offer some friendly advice and a shoulder to lean on. Chanyeol had access to privileged information, which Tao desperately wanted to clear his name and move forward with the mission.
“Crash at my place until you figure things out,” Tao said, placing a comforting hand on Chanyeol’s shoulder. “It’s not much. It's a bit claustrophobic. But the couch is pretty comfy.”
“Thanks, I think I’ll take you up on that.” The tall boy smiled sadly. His entire world had crashed on top of him and Tao knew exactly how that felt like.
“I talked with Chanyeol on the phone yesterday. He already knows everything,” Lay said, before taking his mug from the table and placing it on his lips, blowing on it twice before taking another sip and wincing at the strong flavor, “you said you had something to tell us? The reason why you argued with your father?”
Chanyeol pulled in a long breath and let it out slowly, his nostrils flaring, like he was trying to push down his emotions. Tao noticed that the hand he had placed on the table was trembling slightly.
“He told me,” he started, taking in another breath and squeezing his eyes shut, “the Prototypes are suppose to be put down by the end of the week. They are moving Project Exo to Phase Two, which means, starting the gene mutation procedures on the real army.” His voice shook and he opened his eyes, immediately putting them down to face his wet shoes. Tao thought he was seeing things when he saw Chanyeol’s hand glowing faintly. Maybe it was the exotic coffee that was causing hallucinations.
Chanyeol hid his hands under his tights. A silence fell upon them. Lay placed a hand over his mouth, completely baffled. Tao simply nodded. During one of his successful hackings he had managed to read the report about the Prototype’s disposal and Phase Two. He was planning to forward that information over to Xiumin, but he knew it wasn’t enough. Kronos wanted to have their own Project Exo but their past attempts at gene mutation on humans had failed miserably. If all the Prototypes were destroyed, there was no way Tao could get his hands on the sample. Phase Two meant defeat.
And Tao never accepted defeat.
“They were raised for slaughter,” Lay said, his voice weak.
“It’s not going to happen. They are going to escape. It can work, right? You guys are going to help? I can’t do anything from inside the Center anymore, but maybe-“
“It’s probably best of you sit this one out, Chanyeol,” Tao interrupted him. “You’re too recognizable. Every person in that building knows who you are. Plus, you lost your clearance.”
“I just want Baekhyun to be safe. He’s scared of the dark. He doesn’t know it, but his power grows stronger when he’s more relaxed. I’ve tested it. He can do it. They all can.” Chanyeol’s gaze switched from Tao to Lay then back to his shoes. Tao could read his anxiety all over him, from the way he stood, his shoulders hunched, and legs shaking under the table.
He grew attached. Big fucking mistake.
“They’ll make it. I’m sure of it.” Lay offered Chanyeol a shy smile.
You too. You’re going to regret it so much.
The woman approached the table again, big smile on her face as she collected the empty mugs, placing them on a tray. She wore a tight purple dress that hugged her body perfectly. It looked way too expensive to be a waitress uniform. Tao examined her as she walked away, heels clicking on the wood floor. Her face looked familiar, but he couldn’t exactly remember where he had seen her before.
“Doesn’t she look an awful lot like the daughter of the Kwon Industries CEO?” Chanyeol said in a rushed tone.
“I don’t know. These are your people. I don’t frequent New Rome benefit dinners that often.” Irony spilled out of Lay’s lips and Tao let out a giggle.
Oh, here we go.
“These benefits are boring anyway. You wouldn’t like it,” Chanyeol snapped in the same manner.
“Do you sit around eating expensive food, like apples? Talking about the amazing things you are doing to save the world? Writing thousand dollar checks to organizations that spent that money making documentaries about the poor instead of actually helping them?”
Tao sit back on his chair. He absolutely adored watching Lay call out of Chanyeol’s privileges as the boy withered in his place, trying to come up with arguments to deny them. They did this often during their lunch hour. Krystal was always the one to say “enough, I think he gets it, he’s a spoiled brat,” but later give Lay a fist bump, congratulating him for speaking out.
“Apples are delicious, but I like strawberries better,” Chanyeol crossed his arms. “But you wouldn’t know.”
“Well, guess you better start getting used stale canned food, because that’s all we get here in Gaza while New Rome basks in hundred dollar fruit salads and-”
“Guys,” Tao called out, placing one hand on Chanyeol’s chest and the other on Lay’s. “Remember how we were talking about working together? I know you two love this, but we have more important things to get to? Like the escape plan for example?”
“Sorry,” the two of them mumbled in defeat.
Tao rolled his eyes. It was going to be a long week, but he was looking forward to it all. After being stuck in a kitchen for so long, he missed the action. Excitement tingled in his stomach, as he pulled out his tablet from his bag, opening a map of the Center.
“Let’s do this then.”
-
“Hello?”
“Victoria?”
Victoria pushed away her blanket, wondering who called her in such a late hour in the night.
“Yes. Who is this?”
“It’s Yuri, from the Jazz Club,” the image of beautiful black haired woman appeared on his mind, but Yuri kept talking on a rushed tone before she could say anything, “listen, I need to be quick. The Prototypes are planning their escape. Whatever you did, it worked.”
Victoria left out a loud gasp, tears of relief coming to her eyes. “Are you sure? How do you know this?”
“Three guys came here today and talked about it. I could recognize Dr. Park’s son. They said help the Prototypes and stayed here until the place started getting full, they were putting together a escape plan and it's fucking brilliant. I thought I should let you know. Don't tell Yunho I told you, though. He told me to keep this secret. Something about a surprise, but anyway, I figured you should know.”
“Thank you,” Victoria sighed, her heart pounding nervously, “I hope they’ll do fine.”
“Oh, don’t worry, dear,” she could hear Yuri chuckling, “they’ll have all the help in the world.”
⇢ next: chapter six
a/n: omggg this chapter was such a pain to come out. me and fernanda were extra busy this week so when we noticed it was already this late and we were still reading the chapter again and trying to make it perfect. dear lord.
anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and thanks for all the sweet feedback ;~; i love you guys srsly.
my baekyeol shipper heart is hurting so MUCH RN