CHINGUX 2014: summer fling, don't mean a thing (2/3) for frailspells
← PART 1
noblesville, indiana. july 3.
"Hey. Have you seen Baekhyun around?" Jongdae asks, and the question makes Chanyeol pause as he's coiling up extension cords. The first leg of the tour, Baekhyun and Jongdae were inseparable, practically attached at the hip. Considering Chanyeol's inadvertent voyeurism in days past, he's fairly certain they're attached in several other places whenever they get some time alone on a bus.
"Just whistle and call his name," Chanyeol teases. "He'll come running if it's you."
Jongdae laughs, but he's fiddling with his earrings, a sure sign that he's not being completely forthright with Chanyeol.
"What's going on?"
Jongdae sighs loudly and leans against the edge of the amp, chin on his fist. "I think that AP review of the album really bummed him out. That whole article... I mean, I know your sister works there, but it was-"
"Shitty, I know," Chanyeol finishes for him. "I agree. So does Yura, for what it's worth." He frowns. "Baekhyun seemed okay with it yesterday, though."
Jongdae shrugs. "I think he worries what you guys think. After the hiatus and everything. He still thinks it was his fault."
Fault is a strong word. The hiatus had been because of Baekhyun, but for a situation out of his control. About a year earlier, Baekhyun had started struggling with his voice. It kept cracking and splitting and suddenly Baekhyun couldn't trust his voice to be there when it always had been reliable before. His throat hurt, too, and he kept complaining about sore throats and swollen glands until Kyungsoo had forcibly taken him to the doctor. The doctor removed his tonsils and a small node, and put him on vocal rest for what was meant to be a month. It stretched into four months, four long months that delayed their recording for the next album, four months where the others wrote songs for a band whose future was up in the air and subbed in other bands while they waited for their lead vocalist to come back.
"It wasn't his fault," Chanyeol says. "Shit happens."
"That's what I kept saying. But that bad review really crushed him, I think. He was really happy with the album, especially after everything. Just-you know. Talk to him, when you get a chance. I figured he wouldn't approach you first, but I thought you should know."
"Yeah," Chanyeol agrees. "Thanks, Jongdae."
toronto, ontario. july 4.
They spend American Independence Day in Canada.
To make up for the fact that they're not going to see any fireworks, the food service truck does a barbecue for everyone. There's plenty of food and beer left over even after most of the concertgoers have gone home for the night. Chanyeol's grateful that round-up isn't until late again. They've crossed the country in the past week and right now he'd rather chew off his left arm than get back on that bus.
Yixing settles down with his acoustic and starts taking requests. He indulges the clusters of people gathered to hear him and plays everything he knows, even the really stupid requests for Christmas music and God Save The Queen coming from Sehun and Tao. Everyone's in a good mood because it's a nice night, even Baekhyun, although he's much quieter than he usually is. Jongdae's trying to get Baekhyun to sing duets with him ("I'll even sing the girl parts! C'monnnnn!") and Baekhyun's laughing instead of looking glum like he has been the past few days, so that's an improvement, too. And really, everyone should be happy: the shows have been going well, attendance has been up, fans have been great, and the merchandise has been selling well. Even the new album.
Chanyeol moves just far enough out of the circle to get some clean grass to stretch out on and lies back, hands on his stomach, feeling the warmth of the ground beneath him. The last rays of sunlight disappear beyond the horizon. Chanyeol knows he should probably get up and move closer to where the others are, where the light is, but he's too comfortable.
Kyungsoo totters over to where Chanyeol's sprawled out in the grass and drops to his knees, heavily, like he's a much bigger man than his five and a half feet. Chanyeol looks up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something, but he just sits there smiling at Chanyeol, eyes a little glassy.
"You looked lonely," Kyungsoo confesses after a moment. He slides his hand onto Chanyeol's thigh and squeezes. "Don't be lonely."
"I'm not lonely," Chanyeol says, laughing. He's had a couple beers too, and after a long day in the sun he's definitely feeling them. When he shakes his head, the world swims.
"You promise?" Kyungsoo asks, looking dead serious. "You'd tell me, right?"
"You're here," Chanyeol says. He slips a hand over Kyungsoo's and squeezes it. "I'm not lonely."
Kyungsoo grins. "Good," he says, sinking to his elbows. He just lies there for a while, not saying anything, hand still tucked in Chanyeol's. He's slowly stroking Chanyeol's knuckles with his thumb and the expression on his face looks like he's thinking hard about something.
Chanyeol finally works up enough nerve to ask Kyungsoo: "Are you lonely?"
Kyungsoo looks like he's considering it. He's curled up under Chanyeol's arm again, like he was the other night at the motel. "Sometimes," he decides. "Sometimes I'm really lonely." He inches his face closer and drops a shy kiss on the side of Chanyeol's mouth, then buries his face underneath Chanyeol's ear, embarrassed.
Chanyeol pulls Kyungsoo's body closer to his chest, arm looped around Kyungsoo's narrow waist. "What was that for?" he asks, suddenly hyperaware of everything around them. The prickle of grass underneath his bare arms, the quiet chugging of Yixing's guitar, Jongdae's high, clear voice working through a cover of Fall Out Boy's My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon over everyone else's conversations.
"Just wanted to," Kyungsoo says.
"What about Yura?"
"Where's Yura?" Kyungsoo asks stupidly. He's fiddling with the collar of Chanyeol's t-shirt and the soft brush of fingertips on Chanyeol's collarbones is driving him crazy. Chanyeol freezes at the question, though, and there's a sinking feeling in his stomach. Kyungsoo's really just looking for Yura, not him.
"With the AP guys, I guess," Chanyeol says. He starts to roll away, trying to extract himself out from underneath Kyungsoo's weight. Kyungsoo clings harder.
"Stop moving. I'm comfortable," he whines. "Just until we have to leave."
"Okay," Chanyeol soothes, patting his back. "I won't." He feels so tired now and he's worried someone like Baekhyun's going to come over and make a big deal about the two of them spooning by themselves in the grass. Then again, everyone's been drinking, and they all tend to get a little handsy when they're drunk, so maybe nobody will notice at all. Hesitantly, he tosses a leg over Kyungsoo's to keep him close while he listens to Kyungsoo's slow breathing even out.
montreal, quebec. july 5.
There's a problem with the band that plays the 7:00-7:30 slot on their stage. After some shuffling, Fistful of Assholes gets tapped to cover the spot. It's a good opportunity for them, honestly-gives them exposure during a prime performance time, and by 7:00 the sun isn't so high in the sky, so at least the stage isn't quite so sweltering. Kyungsoo promises it won't be for the rest of the tour and brings Chanyeol a pulled pork sandwich from the food truck as a consolation prize for missing dinner to set up. He's back to his normally stoic self, too businesslike to even stop and watch while Chanyeol's doing soundcheck. He's gone a minute later, and then Baekhyun's fussing about his earpiece so Chanyeol's too busy to worry about it.
Right after the band goes on, Jongdae pulls up a seat next to Chanyeol backstage and punches him in the thigh by way of saying hello.
"What are you doing here?" Chanyeol asks, speaking loudly over Baekhyun's warm-up speech to the crowd. He sounds good. Completely like his old self with the way he's cracking jokes and mugging for the front row. Jongdae frowns at Chanyeol, then points at his ear. Chanyeol notices the nubs of orange foam wedged into Jongdae's ear canal and nods to show he understands. Then the Assholes launch into their opening song-their first single, Always Eleven, which never fails to get the crowd roaring, and any hope of conversation is gone. He catches Jongdae in his peripheral vision singing along, head tipped back and belting at the top of his lungs, the sound swallowed by the nearby amps.
And then Kyungsoo's there, sliding his hands down Chanyeol's shoulders to let them rest on the base of his neck. Chanyeol's far too tall for Kyungsoo to do this when they're both standing. He tips his head back just far enough to make eye contact. Kyungsoo glances down at him and in his smile there's a flash of recognition of what they'd done the night before. There's no convincing himself now: Chanyeol knows that Kyungsoo remembers. He can tell. It's written on his face, plain as day. Kyungsoo goes wooden, smile nervous and faltering off his face, as he steps away to send a text message to someone.
Chanyeol wants to follow him, but he doesn't know what he'd even say. He's got a lot of questions about what this is but isn't sure he wants to know the answers.
holmdel, new jersey. july 6.
Chanyeol's trying to steal a quick fifteen minute nap in his bunk after the set when the door slams open and Yura's voice rings out in the tiny space: "Chanyeol? Brother of mine? You in here?"
"Girl on the bus!" Baekhyun bellows from somewhere in the back, the sound amplified by hands cupped around his mouth. "Hope you're all decent."
Yura scoffs and calls back, "Like you're ever decent, Baekhyun."
"I get by!"
Chanyeol sticks his head out of his bunk, squinting at Yura's blurry silhouette as she picks her way down the bus's narrow aisle, hands braced on the walls at either side.
"Yura?" He squints and blinks furiously, trying to get his contacts to unfold themselves in his eyes and start doing their job. "It's-five o'clock in the afternoon. Don't you have shows to cover?"
She lifts a shoulder, holds out her hand. "Wanted to hang out with you. Come on, let's go walk around."
When he sees her out in the sunlight, he can't help but laugh. She's wearing a Fistful of Assholes shirt, cut up the sides and tied in a row of neat little knots that follow the curve of her ribcage. She hands him a bottle of water and pushes her sunglasses up her nose.
"Nice shirt," he says.
"Sehun gave it to me," she says, linking her elbow with his to lead him down the row of merch tents. "I told him I was family of the band and I was supposed to have one."
"He's not supposed to do that." Chanyeol laughs again, but he's shaking his head too. "Kyungsoo's going to kill him for doing that. And maybe you, too."
"He won't kill me," Yura says confidently, "he likes me," and suddenly everything's weird. Chanyeol stiffens and drops his arm away from hers, then realizes his mistake and tries to cover for it by going for his phone.
Yura senses it immediately anyway, her sisterly instincts on high alert. She stops short, right in front of the Why Mes tent, and ignores Tao's attempts to say hello. Chanyeol manages a small wave down by his waist. Tao notices the look on Yura's face and backs away to deal with a customer.
"Speaking of Kyungsoo," Yura says, slow and deliberate. "Do you like him?" She puts a rubber band in her mouth and rakes her bobbed hair back into a short ponytail at the base of her neck. Her eyes never leave his face. She's being his sister right now, but she's also being a journalist-investigating, getting to the bottom of things. And he just doesn't want this to be one of her scoops, not when he's still trying to figure it out himself.
He turns his back, pointedly ignoring the question as he busies himself looking at the Why Mes shirts on display. They're all pretty ugly, but they give him something to look at while he avoids his sister's stare.
"It's a simple yes-or-no question," she continues. "Do. You. Like. Him?"
It's not simple. It'd be simple if he knew. His stomach flips with nervous energy. "I like him fine. He's a good manager."
She shoots him a withering look. In that moment, she's a carbon copy of their mother. Not that he'd ever tell her that. "You know how I meant."
His lips press together, corners dipping into a frown. "No, I don't," he lies.
"Bullshit," she says, tilting her head against his shoulder. "You're like a puppy sometimes." Chanyeol remembers being much smaller. Closer to her size. "You follow him around like one."
"I do not," he says, shrugging her off. "Stop hanging out with Baekhyun."
"Like I'd hang out with Baekhyun," she scoffs.
"I've barely seen you all summer," Chanyeol points out. "I don't know who you're hanging out with." Kyungsoo, his mind supplies. You're hanging out with Kyungsoo and he doesn't want to talk to me about it.
"I was just asking," Yura says, a strange catch in her voice. She sounds almost hurt, but after that she changes the subject and doesn't bring it up again.
darien, new york. july 8.
Kyungsoo appears out of nowhere just as Chanyeol's finished loading the trailer, hands in his back pockets.
"You're all done, right?" Kyungsoo asks as Chanyeol clambers over an amp and steps, blinking, into the sunlight.
"I-yeah, I guess," Chanyeol says, scratching the back of his head before he replaces his cap over his tousled hair. Three days without a shower and he feels like dying. Usually Kyungsoo's too busy supervising Sehun at the merch tent to come by during strike. "I was going to go crash in the bus for a few hours, if that's cool. Didn't sleep much last night-"
"Yeah, yeah, definitely. But you should come with me, first." Kyungsoo licks his lips nervously, offers Chanyeol a shy smile. "Please."
Kyungsoo instructs Chanyeol to complete a lot of things, but this is one of the few times he's asked Chanyeol for something outright with a smile on his face. Chanyeol knows he should probably be wary, but one brilliant flash of teeth and he's like so much putty in Kyungsoo's hands.
Yura's right. He is a fucking puppy, and Kyungsoo's the one holding the leash.
Half an hour later, Chanyeol finds himself exactly where he never wanted to be: strapped inside the Superman Ride of Steel roller coaster, white-knuckling the edge of the seat like he can hold himself on the ground through sheer force of strength. "I can't believe you talked me into this," he mutters through gritted teeth. "I hate these things."
"I'm here," Kyungsoo says, swiping a thumb across the back of Chanyeol's hand. "Don't worry."
The climb is the worst part. The slow, creeping ascent that seems to take years (it's definitely taking years off his life). To add insult to injury, Kyungsoo keeps elbowing him and kicking at Chanyeol's ankles.
"Open your eyes," he shouts.
"I'm alright," Chanyeol says, eyes still screwed tightly shut.
"You can see the whole park from up here," Kyungsoo says. "Look, the stages! I think the Why Mes are on right now. Chanyeol. Come on. Look! You're missing it!"
"I've seen the park already, I'm okay," Chanyeol says, afraid he's going to start babbling if he doesn't shut up. Kyungsoo laughs and then slips his hand around Chanyeol's, fingers reassuring and warm.
"I didn't realize you were such a big baby," he says. "You could've said no."
He could've, sure. But he didn't want to. Chanyeol never likes to say no to Kyungsoo, especially when it means spending more time with him. Kyungsoo doesn't ask for personal favors very often. Chanyeol's committed to saying yes first and asking what the favor entails later. It's usually not so bad-something like a wake-up call, an extra last-minute gig, or a week's delay on a paycheck. Something he can live with. Something that keeps his feet on the ground.
This, though? This is-
"I'm sorry," Kyungsoo says, breaking into his thoughts. He squeezes Chanyeol's hand a little tighter. "It'll be over soon. I promise. Just keep holding my hand."
Chanyeol winces, listening to the ratcheting click of the chain slow to a stop. They've reached the peak and he's changed his mind: this is the worst part, the moment right before you fall, when you don't know when it's coming, or how it's going to feel, or how long it's going to last. The point of no return.
And then the car lurches forward.
He experiences weightlessness for two full seconds as the car hangs over the precipice, and then plunges. He opens his mouth to scream but his lungs are empty. It feels like they fall forever, Kyungsoo's fingers gripping his, his delighted laughter ringing in Chanyeol's ears over the screams of the other passengers in the car.
Kyungsoo has to unbuckle Chanyeol's safety belt for him at the end of the ride. Chanyeol's hands are shaking too hard to get a grip. He sits rigid with embarrassment, trying not to make eye contact with the ride operator, some pimply-faced teenager who looks on with poorly-concealed amusement at the stricken look on Chanyeol's face. Chanyeol's so freaked out he doesn't even think to notice the proximity of Kyungsoo's face to his, doesn't try to get another count of the tiny moles sprinkled down his neck, just to make sure he's got the number right. He closes his eyes and swallows, lets Kyungsoo lead him off the platform and out through the winding metal barricades.
The dried tears on Chanyeol's cheeks sting, skin stiff and salty. "You're okay," Kyungsoo says, pulling him aside to sit him down on a bench. "It's over."
"I know," Chanyeol says, but Kyungsoo has to pry Chanyeol's fingers off one by one in order to extract his hand from Chanyeol's iron grip. He's smiling when Chanyeol finally cracks open his eyes.
"Want to go again?"
"Hilarious," Chanyeol wheezes, feeling his stomach clench at the mere mention of a second trip. "But no. I'll watch you from down here."
"Nah," Kyungsoo says, using the pads of his thumbs to help clean Chanyeol's cheeks. "Not as much fun without you."
"I hate roller coasters," Chanyeol mutters, tilting his face down to make it easier on Kyungsoo. He can't quite bring himself to look Kyungsoo square in the eye, as though revealing this particular weakness has left him feeling too vulnerable.
"You should've said something before we got in line, then," Kyungsoo says reasonably, thumb slowing on the soft curve of Chanyeol's cheek. "I wouldn't have dragged you if I'd known."
Chanyeol doesn't know how to say, There's not a lot I wouldn't do. "What doesn't kill you, right?" he says, instead. When he finally looks up, Kyungsoo slides his hands to the base of Chanyeol's neck, holding him steady, forcing Chanyeol to look him straight in the eye.
"Don't worry. I won't tell Baekhyun you cried," Kyungsoo says, face splitting into a wide butterfly grin. For a moment, Chanyeol thinks-hopes-Kyungsoo's going to kiss him, in daylight this time, no alcohol required, but he steps back instead, slips his arm around Chanyeol's waist. "Your secret's safe with me."
scranton, pennsylvania. july 9.
As the summer's worn on, Sehun's gotten slower and slower with setting up the table and tearing it down at the end of the day. Sometimes it takes him so long that dinner's over and the trailer's already packed.
He's also spending more time with Yixing. Every time Chanyeol swings by the merch tent or the bus, Sehun's sitting next to Yixing, listening with rapt attention as Yixing explains the difference between all the pedals he uses during a given show. Chanyeol's never seen Sehun look so enthusiastic about anything in his life, so he cuts him a little slack and pulls up a chair to sell some CDs. And after an hour and fifteen minutes of money changing hands and mind-numbing small talk with teenagers, he gains a new appreciation for what Sehun does, and vows not to pick on him so much anymore. The kid's been working hard. He's earned the right to bitch about it.
mansfield, massachusetts. july 10.
Chanyeol goes to catch one of Jongdae's sets. He's been a casual fan ever since Jongdae gave him the CD, but he hasn't had much of a chance to see them live. He's always way too busy with the Assholes to take the time off. The ringing in his ears hasn't stopped since they left Houston, so he's content to sit a few dozen yards back behind the rest of the crowd, eyes closed and listening to the way Jondgae's voice commands the amphitheater. Anyone in a mile radius can probably hear him with the way he's belting song after song into the microphone, held high over his head but close to his mouth like he's doing his best impression of Freddie Mercury.
Baekhyun wanders by and sits next to him to keep him company. Baekhyun's idea of keeping someone company involves pulling fistfuls of grass from the lawn and dumping them in his victim's lap. Chanyeol lets it accumulate like so much green snow, knowing that if he gives Baekhyun even a little bit of attention, the grass will smother him to death.
"Takes me back," Baekhyun says, when he gets bored with the grass. He leans back and gestures at the swarm of moshing bodies huddled together against the front barricade. He's talking about the old band. Black Pearl. Chanyeol and Baekhyun had both been fairly serious about it-as serious as you can be about a band when you're sixteen years old and every song is about some nameless, faceless somebody who ripped your fucking heart out and stomped on it.
Chanyeol leans back, legs crossed at the ankles, and shades his eyes with the flat of his hand. "Those were the days."
When Chanyeol thinks about it, this really should have been their gig. Their duo had had a few club engagements here and there-nothing big, but enough that they were known in the local punk scene and opened for most of the mid-tier bands who came through to play. Kyungsoo, too, had been around and played the underground club circuit. His music was more emo than anything else and sounded a lot like something that would have come out of a Chris Carrabba phase (but Chanyeol had never been stupid enough to say those words out loud to Kyungsoo. He values his neck too much to risk it being broken).
The Assholes had been another local group, but bigger. Opened for Green Day that one time kind of big, but then there had been a split and the original lead singer, Kevin, had defected to another scene and took half of the fan base with him. They'd borrowed Baekhyun for a weekend that turned into a month that turned into a recording session, a record deal, and finally a small national tour of their own. The rest was history.
No lead singer meant that Black Pearl was dead, so Chanyeol stayed behind and worked at the local Guitar Center. At least, until Baekhyun got the bright idea to bring Chanyeol out on the road with them. It had started mostly as an excuse for Baekhyun to have someone to hang out with, but Chanyeol's cheerful disposition and vast knowledge of music and techie shit meant that he quickly gained Yixing's trust with his guitars, could talk Black Flag and the Ramones with Lu Han until the wee hours of the morning, and even charmed Kyungsoo, who'd always been on the pricklier side of the managers Chanyeol had met. He's loosened up a lot in the years since. You almost had to when your lead singer was a force of nature and tended towards total destruction.
"This could be you, you know," Baekhyun says, flinging a hand at the stage. Chanyeol turns just in time to see Jongdae grab his crotch and double over, wailing into the microphone. He snorts.
"No, it couldn't."
Baekhyun presses on. "It could, though. You've got all this music you've been working on-why don't you let me hear it?"
Chanyeol shrugs and leans back on his elbows.
"Aren't you bored? You should quit. Go make your own band. Strike it rich."
"Yeah, because that's how it works." Chanyeol rolls his eyes and stretches out to his full height, head pillowed by his hands. "I'm happy doing this. It's the best job I've ever had." What Baekhyun's saying makes sense, but he'd miss this too much. He's not ready to move on just yet.
camden, new jersey. july 11.
There's a late-night diner just off the interstate that they always stop at whenever they're coming through these parts. They all pile in a booth designed for four people. Chanyeol ends up squished in between Yixing and Sehun. Kyungsoo sits across the table, pushing Baekhyun off his shoulder every time Baekhyun tries to settle in and take a nap.
Food arrives. Chanyeol reaches across the table to retrieve a ketchup-laden french fry from Kyungsoo's plate.
"Hey," Kyungsoo admonishes, swatting at Chanyeol's hand. "You should have ordered your own if you wanted some."
Chanyeol grins at him and kicks him under the table. "You should have just ordered two plates. How long have we been doing this?"
Kyungsoo's quiet for a moment as he chews, considering this. "Fair point." He pushes the plate closer to Chanyeol. "You win this time. But you're paying for it."
"You guys are like a married couple," Jongdae says. "Which makes us your kids."
Sehun wrinkles his nose. "I'm not a kid," he insists. Tao laughs and elbows him in the ribs. Sehun bangs his knee on the underside of the table trying to get away from him and nearly ends up in Chanyeol's lap.
"Does that make Chanyeol the mom?" Baekhyun asks, ignoring the scuffle.
"I'm not your mom," Chanyeol says.
Kyungsoo shakes his head. "And I'm not your dad."
Chanyeol makes to kick him under the table again, playful grin stretched wide across his face, but Kyungsoo's ready for him this time and catches Chanyeol's foot between his ankles. He pulls the tangle of limbs back underneath his bench, smiles to himself, and holds out another fry for Chanyeol to take.
wantagh, new york. july 12.
It's cold in New York. Really cold. It starts raining early in the day, before the tents have even set up. Sehun sits huddled behind the merch table and looks so miserable that Kyungsoo takes pity on him and brings him a massive thermos of coffee to keep his hands warm.
Chanyeol fucking hates it when it rains on the tour. The body odor and sweat is bad, but wiping out on the slippery terrain is worse. Plus, there's no way to get clean, and even if you do manage to score a shower somewhere, there's no way to get dry. Jongdae slinks by the tent after his set, streaks of mud winding up his biceps from doing god only knows what. His jeans are ruined.
"Fuck this," Jongdae says. "I quit."
Sehun offers him a cup of coffee. Jongdae takes it and drinks it like a shot of tequila, scorching liquid knocked back in one go, gone as quickly as it'd appeared.
Baekhyun sniffles and rubs at his face, bleary-eyed and staring vacantly. He's gone through half a box of tissues today. The rain's wrecking havoc on his voice and he keeps complaining he's running a fever.
"Me too," Baekhyun says, looking up at Jongdae. "I mean it."
"You don't get to quit," Kyungsoo threatens. "Not until I've made enough money to pay off my car and buy a house."
"So, that'd be never," Jongdae says cheerfully, plopping into Baekhyun's lap. Baekhyun grimaces, face pained. He struggles to get out from underneath Jongdae but Jongdae's got a lot of muscle and weighs more than Baekhyun's even remotely capable of bench-pressing. He's stuck.
"Your ass is so bony," he whines, petulant as ever.
Jongdae gives him a sloppy kiss on the cheek, obviously just for show. A few fan girls who have been watching giggle at the obnoxious display of affection. "You're welcome."
hartford, connecticut. july 13.
Every night the lights go out and Chanyeol holds his breath. It's getting so he can count down to the hand appearing around the curtain, the tired face that looms at him from the end of the bed.
"Come here," he says, like he really needs to say anything. Kyungsoo would get in anyway. Chanyeol prefers the closeness now, even if he's just hugging himself when he wakes up.
Kyungsoo wriggles around uncomfortably. "Shit. What the hell do you have in here?" He reaches underneath himself, elbowing Chanyeol in the face as he unearths a stray Sharpie. "Uh."
"I was looking for that!" Chanyeol says, snatching it from between Kyungsoo's fingers. "I thought it'd rolled onto the floor somewhere." He holds it up into a shaft of moonlight and twists it around. Kyungsoo's hand skirts up Chanyeol's forearm, fingers twisting past Chanyeol's knuckles to hold his hand.
A memory surfaces. Yura telling Kyungsoo he'd look good with a tattoo. Chanyeol pulls his hand away and uncaps the marker, holds Kyungsoo's arm in front of his face and draws a smiley face right in the crook of his elbow.
"Hey," Kyungsoo says when he realizes what Chanyeol's up to. "Stop that." He yanks away and rolls over.
"I'm just giving you your first tattoo," Chanyeol says. Kyungsoo lies very still for a long time, so long that Chanyeol thinks he's fallen asleep, until Kyungsoo rolls back over and flings his arm back across Chanyeol's chest, knocking the wind out of him.
Chanyeol grunts so loudly that they both freeze for a moment, listening to Baekhyun roll over above them. "What was that for?" he gasps, when he's sure the entire bus is still asleep.
"Give me something else," Kyungsoo says. "Another one." Chanyeol uncaps the marker with his teeth and starts doodling stars around Kyungsoo's elbow. He's trying to approximate a constellation-Capricorn, Kyungsoo's sign, but mostly it just looks like a smattering of twinkles without any particular rhyme or reason. Lulled by the movement of the bus or the felt-tipped pen dragging across his skin, Kyungsoo curls into Chanyeol's side, arm still draped across Chanyeol's chest, and slowly dozes off.
burgettstown, pennsylvania. july 15.
Chanyeol's starting to feel a little bit like Cinderella. Or like he's living a double life. As soon as the sun rises, Kyungsoo crawls out of Chanyeol's bed and doesn't come near him for anything not directly involved with the show until the day's over and it's dark again. There's no indication that anything's going on, although the stars from the other night are still there on Kyungsoo's arm. Nobody's had a chance to take a shower so they're crisp and black, like Chanyeol'd just drawn them. Every time Kyungsoo rolls up his sleeves Chanyeol feels flushed and overheated. Kyungsoo looks at him backstage in the middle of a set and it's like the way things used to be before they started messing around, or whatever this is. It's such a stark contrast that Chanyeol's started to catch himself rubbing his lower lip and wondering if the phantom bite he's feeling is from his own teeth or Kyungsoo's.
And then the lights go out and they get back on the road and Kyungsoo's right there, ready to remind him.
cincinnati, ohio. july 16.
Following strike, Kyungsoo sends Chanyeol to 'supervise' Sehun over at the merch tent. He's needed a babysitter (Kyungsoo's words, much to Sehun's dismay) ever since a couple t-shirts went missing back in New Jersey. It's a shitty situation, since it could have happened to anyone, especially with the high volume of concertgoers. They weren't the only victims of theft that day, either. Plenty of shit gets swiped-display CDs, bottles of water, patches and pins. People get grabby. It's obnoxious as fuck, but it's par for the course. Which is why-
"This is fucking stupid," Sehun grouses, when he catches sight of Chanyeol with his guitar slung over his shoulder, towering above the heads of a group of girls. "How many people does it take to watch me? Am I really that bad? Just fucking fire me already."
Baekhyun's voice comes from somewhere on the floor behind Sehun. "Hey, I'm not watching you. I'm just hanging out." Chanyeol peers over the edge of the table just in time for Jongdae's head to pop up, too.
"I'm avoiding responsibilities," Jongdae says earnestly. "I've got a show in an hour and a half. Hey, Chanyeol."
Chanyeol raises his hand by way of greeting and turns back to Sehun. "Look, keeping Kyungsoo happy means we all get to be happy. I trust you. I'm just going to sit here, okay? I won't hover. You won't even know I'm here."
Sehun shrugs and goes back to his manga. Chanyeol takes that as acceptance of his presence and sits down next to Jongdae in the dirt under the shade of the tent, pulls his guitar into his lap. The ground's still a little soft from the rain they've been having, but it's dry enough that his jeans don't soak through immediately.
"Dude," Baekhyun says, yanking his hand away from where Jongdae's been scribbling Sharpie all over his fingernails like nail polish. Jongdae makes a disgruntled noise and draws a black line down Baekhyun's arm in retaliation. Baekhyun licks his thumb and wipes at the mark. "You dick."
Jongdae grins and blows him a kiss.
Baekhyun lowers his voice and peeks up underneath his eyebrows at Sehun before he continues. "I meant to ask you, but we've been crazy busy with everything. And you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but I just wanted to know. Is something going on between you and Kyungsoo?" He looks back at Jongdae. "You can talk in front of Jongdae. We're not going to judge or anything."
Chanyeol's taken aback at the sudden question. He'd hoped Baekhyun and Jongdae hadn't noticed anything, but then again, they'd have to be completely blind not to. He rubs the back of his neck and shrugs, as nonchalant as he can manage when his heart's thudding somewhere near his tonsils. "Nah, he-I think he likes Yura, actually."
Baekhyun's got the finely-honed senses of a teenage girl. He zeroes in on what Chanyeol's not saying and, whether through sheer dumb luck, an intimate knowledge of Chanyeol as his best friend, or some combination of both, he nails it: "So you admit you want something to be going on between you?"
Chanyeol starts fiddling with the tuning pegs on his guitar, switching it to drop d tuning just for something to do, even though none of the Assholes' songs use it. "I didn't say that," he says finally, carefully.
"They've been hanging out together a lot lately," Jongdae points out. "Kyungsoo and Yura, I mean." He looks at Chanyeol, an amused smile curving the corners of his mouth. "Is that why you've started growing out your hair? To compete?"
"Shut up," Chanyeol huffs, reaching over to pull the guitar off the stand for something to do, something to occupy his hands. He's starting to get antsy with this line of questioning. No good can come of it, really. Once Baekhyun and Jongdae get a whiff of something, though, they're relentless, a couple of hounds on a fox's trail. Chanyeol's the fox, and judging by the glint in their eyes, he's fucking doomed.
Baekhyun shakes his head. "No-that's what I thought at the beginning of the summer, but you two get kind of weird with each other after dark. You're always sneaking off somewhere together."
Chanyeol snorts. "We're not 'sneaking off.' This isn't hide-and-seek."
"Whatever it is. Sometimes I come looking for you and I can't find you."
"He's just-confused, I think. I know we look alike-but he likes Yura, not me."
"Why does he always end up in your bed, then?" Baekhyun demands. "You guys think I don't hear you when he comes into your bunk at night? You're literally two feet away from me."
"Wait. Hold on. You think-he's getting you two mixed up?" Jongdae bursts out laughing, doubled over in his chair, chin on his knees. Baekhyun flops on top of him, also shaking with helpless laughter. It takes a minute for the two of them to get a grip. Baekhyun barely manages to pull himself back into an upright seated position and Jongdae's mopping tears out of the corners of his eyes with the hem of his t-shirt.
"What?" Chanyeol asks crossly. "Don't you have your own group, anyway? Why are you here, hanging out at our merch tent?" He kicks at the leg of Jongdae's chair. Jongdae ignores Chanyeol's outburst.
"Let me get this straight," Jongdae says, and then dissolves into another giggling. "You're just letting him kiss you because you think he's mistaking you... for your sister."
"But you really like him," Baekhyun chimes in. "Why don't you just tell him you've got the hots for him?"
"Because he's my boss? Because I think he likes my sister, or my sister likes him, or something."
"Why are you making it so complicated?" Baekhyun asks. Chanyeol tries-and fails-not to notice the way Jongdae's hand snakes into Baekhyun's lap, cupping his inner thigh in a way that's so shockingly intimate that Chanyeol almost feels like he's intruding in on something between them.
"What about you?" he blurts. "What's-this?" He gesticulates widely between the two of them.
"We're working on a song together," Jongdae says without missing a beat. "Side project. For fun. Combining our powers for good and not evil."
Chanyeol cocks an eyebrow. He's not buying this story. "That's it?"
"Why?" Baekhyun challenges, grinning. He wiggles his eyebrows like he's daring Chanyeol to say something, anything. "What do you think we're doing together?"
Chanyeol sits back in his chair and covers his face with both of his hands. He's not ready to have this conversation and he's regretting bringing it up in the first place. Thankfully, a few fans come up at that point and interrupt: a teenage girl and her friends, giggling and excited. They elbow each other a few times before the front girl is shoved in front of the group, unceremoniously, nominated as their representative to ask for an autograph from Baekhyun and Jongdae. Baekhyun grins and sits up, snatching the Sharpie out of Jongdae's hand. Chanyeol takes the opportunity to retreat. He drags his chair back a few feet until he's sitting next to Sehun at the merch table.
"He's not dating Yura," Sehun says, flipping the latch on the money box. So he'd been eavesdropping on the whole conversation after all. Great. By tomorrow, the whole damn tour will know. The latch squeaks every time Sehun flicks it. Open, shut. Open, shut. "They walk around a lot. Sometimes they sit here and talk."
"Talk? About what?"
Sehun shrugs. Chanyeol leans over and punches him in the shoulder.
"Sehun. What do they talk about?"
"Ow!" Sehun protests, rubbing at his arm. "That fucking hurt."
"I'll do it again if you don't tell me," Chanyeol threatens, winding up for round two.
"I mean, I don't really listen to what they're talking about, I've got to deal with people-"
"Sehun."
Sehun flinches away from Chanyeol's fist. "Fine, fine! Just don't hit me," he says, fingers spread in front of his chest in a classic pose of surrender. He glances over to see whether Jongdae and Baekhyun are still preoccupied with the fans-they are-and then leans in to whisper in Chanyeol's ear: "They talk about you."
Chanyeol's stomach curls, though not unpleasantly, and he finds he can't stop smiling.
cuyahoga falls, ohio. july 17.
"You've been avoiding me."
Chanyeol looks over his shoulder and sees Yura standing behind him on the trailer's ramp, hands on her hips. He sets down the guitar case he's holding and wipes the sweat from his face. "I have not."
She gives him a Look, one of those sisterly glares that pins him in place. "Ever since I asked you about Kyungsoo. You got weird on me."
Chanyeol thinks about what Sehun told him yesterday and realizes Sehun had probably said something to Yura when she came by. Typical little gossip. Still, he feigns ignorance. "Weird?"
"Weirder than usual." She studies him. "I was hoping you'd ask me about him. What was going on."
Sehun hadn't elaborated on what 'talking about you' meant, exactly, and Chanyeol feels a sinking dismay at the way Yura's looking at him right now. That expression-he's familiar enough with it to know. She's not going to say anything he wants to hear.
"Do we have to do this now?" Chanyeol gestures back at the mountain of equipment stacked precariously behind her. "I've got-you know, a job to do."
She picks up a mic stand and gestures with it. "Fine. Do your job. I'll help."
He gazes at her for a moment. She's determined to stick around. There won't be any getting rid of her, not until she gets exactly what she wants. It's one of Yura's finest qualities when she's doing her own job, but right now Chanyeol just wants to be left alone to sweat and toil in peace.
"So," she continues, "what's going on?"
"I don't know. You tell me."
She drops the mic stand on the floor. It clatters loudly and the noise echoes painfully in the tiny trailer. "You think I won't kick your ass? I did it when you were ten and I'll do it again, Chanyeol."
"Fine," he snaps, irritated. "What do you want to know? I know you guys are-whatever you're doing." Pause. "I didn't ask because I didn't want to know."
"You didn't ask because you assumed-you know we're just friends, right? We've known each other since his last band. It's not what you think."
Chanyeol really doesn't want to hear excuses. Somehow, being lied to is even more painful than the thought that his sister is really the one Kyungsoo wants. "Okay, Yura. Thank you for letting me know."
Yura drapes the back of her hand across her forehead in a dramatic pose. Chanyeol's reminded of their mother again. "You know, when you came out, I never thought there'd be any sort of confusion about dudes between us."
"I'm sorry." He cringes. "I don't-"
"He likes you, you idiot."
Chanyeol can't suppress the grin that breaks out on his face. "Really. Did he tell you that?"
"I can't believe I'm doing this," she snaps. "This is so high school. Fuck you. Ask him yourself. I'm not your matchmaker." And then, over her shoulder as she leaves: "You guys are cute. Stop avoiding him."
auburn hills, michigan. july 18.
Baekhyun has a bad show.
It happens to everyone. Off days happen; there's no way to be a hundred percent every single time. Still, Baekhyun takes it so personally every single time. He completely misses his high note in the first song and it goes downhill very rapidly from there. Chanyeol can see him getting more and more frustrated, winding the mic cord around his forearm an extra time like it'll fortify him, protect him from the humiliation.
It doesn't.
He storms off stage after the last song without bothering to say goodbye to the fans, brushes past Kyungsoo and Chanyeol with a thundercloud above his head. When Lu Han calls after him, he bites out, "Need a shower," and disappears behind a van.
"Leave him," Yixing says gently, pulling Lu Han up short. "He'll be okay. Just give him a chance to cool off."
Chanyeol finds him still taking a shower out behind the bus, shivering under the cold water, stripped naked for the world to see. "Hey," Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun jumps.
"You mind?" he splutters, making a half-hearted attempt to cover his junk. He can't quite manage it because he needs both hands to do it properly, but he's got to keep one hand on the shower chain to keep the water flowing. He compromises by spreading his fingers wide, which isn't nearly as effective as he probably thinks it is. Chanyeol resists the urge to laugh.
"Nothing I haven't seen before," Chanyeol says. There's a towel sitting off to the side next to a set of dry clothes. He picks it up and unfolds it, holds it open wide for Baekhyun to step into it.
"I don't know how many more of those I have left in me," Baekhyun admits when he's dried off and dressed. "It's just not fun anymore."
"Is this about the review? Because Yura says that guy's an asshole-"
Baekhyun smiles wanly. "It's not that. Well, not just that." His hair's cowlicked in six different directions from rubbing it dry with the towel. He runs his fingers through it to try and get it to lie flat, but it keeps springing back. He looks like the demented older brother of Alfalfa or something. "It's just-I used to get excited about this. And now I'm just ready to get back to the bus every night."
"Well, that's understandable. I mean, it's a long tour-"
"If we weren't on Warped, we'd be out on our own anyway," Baekhyun points out. "Same shit, different bus. I don't know." He sighs through his teeth, irritated. Then, like an electric current's passing through him, his head jerks up. "You're not going to tell Kyungsoo, are you?"
"I don't even know what I'd be telling him," Chanyeol says honestly, palms turning to the sky. Baekhyun's eyes narrow, contemplating this.
"Good," he decides finally. "I just-I'm going to go catch Jongdae's set. I'll be back later. I'm sorry. Just-forget I said anything."
Chanyeol watches him leave. He hates that it's been cold and shitty the past few weeks. He hates that this whole summer is turning out wrong, hates that everything feels like it's suddenly got an expiration date.
→ PART 3
noblesville, indiana. july 3.
"Hey. Have you seen Baekhyun around?" Jongdae asks, and the question makes Chanyeol pause as he's coiling up extension cords. The first leg of the tour, Baekhyun and Jongdae were inseparable, practically attached at the hip. Considering Chanyeol's inadvertent voyeurism in days past, he's fairly certain they're attached in several other places whenever they get some time alone on a bus.
"Just whistle and call his name," Chanyeol teases. "He'll come running if it's you."
Jongdae laughs, but he's fiddling with his earrings, a sure sign that he's not being completely forthright with Chanyeol.
"What's going on?"
Jongdae sighs loudly and leans against the edge of the amp, chin on his fist. "I think that AP review of the album really bummed him out. That whole article... I mean, I know your sister works there, but it was-"
"Shitty, I know," Chanyeol finishes for him. "I agree. So does Yura, for what it's worth." He frowns. "Baekhyun seemed okay with it yesterday, though."
Jongdae shrugs. "I think he worries what you guys think. After the hiatus and everything. He still thinks it was his fault."
Fault is a strong word. The hiatus had been because of Baekhyun, but for a situation out of his control. About a year earlier, Baekhyun had started struggling with his voice. It kept cracking and splitting and suddenly Baekhyun couldn't trust his voice to be there when it always had been reliable before. His throat hurt, too, and he kept complaining about sore throats and swollen glands until Kyungsoo had forcibly taken him to the doctor. The doctor removed his tonsils and a small node, and put him on vocal rest for what was meant to be a month. It stretched into four months, four long months that delayed their recording for the next album, four months where the others wrote songs for a band whose future was up in the air and subbed in other bands while they waited for their lead vocalist to come back.
"It wasn't his fault," Chanyeol says. "Shit happens."
"That's what I kept saying. But that bad review really crushed him, I think. He was really happy with the album, especially after everything. Just-you know. Talk to him, when you get a chance. I figured he wouldn't approach you first, but I thought you should know."
"Yeah," Chanyeol agrees. "Thanks, Jongdae."
toronto, ontario. july 4.
They spend American Independence Day in Canada.
To make up for the fact that they're not going to see any fireworks, the food service truck does a barbecue for everyone. There's plenty of food and beer left over even after most of the concertgoers have gone home for the night. Chanyeol's grateful that round-up isn't until late again. They've crossed the country in the past week and right now he'd rather chew off his left arm than get back on that bus.
Yixing settles down with his acoustic and starts taking requests. He indulges the clusters of people gathered to hear him and plays everything he knows, even the really stupid requests for Christmas music and God Save The Queen coming from Sehun and Tao. Everyone's in a good mood because it's a nice night, even Baekhyun, although he's much quieter than he usually is. Jongdae's trying to get Baekhyun to sing duets with him ("I'll even sing the girl parts! C'monnnnn!") and Baekhyun's laughing instead of looking glum like he has been the past few days, so that's an improvement, too. And really, everyone should be happy: the shows have been going well, attendance has been up, fans have been great, and the merchandise has been selling well. Even the new album.
Chanyeol moves just far enough out of the circle to get some clean grass to stretch out on and lies back, hands on his stomach, feeling the warmth of the ground beneath him. The last rays of sunlight disappear beyond the horizon. Chanyeol knows he should probably get up and move closer to where the others are, where the light is, but he's too comfortable.
Kyungsoo totters over to where Chanyeol's sprawled out in the grass and drops to his knees, heavily, like he's a much bigger man than his five and a half feet. Chanyeol looks up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say something, but he just sits there smiling at Chanyeol, eyes a little glassy.
"You looked lonely," Kyungsoo confesses after a moment. He slides his hand onto Chanyeol's thigh and squeezes. "Don't be lonely."
"I'm not lonely," Chanyeol says, laughing. He's had a couple beers too, and after a long day in the sun he's definitely feeling them. When he shakes his head, the world swims.
"You promise?" Kyungsoo asks, looking dead serious. "You'd tell me, right?"
"You're here," Chanyeol says. He slips a hand over Kyungsoo's and squeezes it. "I'm not lonely."
Kyungsoo grins. "Good," he says, sinking to his elbows. He just lies there for a while, not saying anything, hand still tucked in Chanyeol's. He's slowly stroking Chanyeol's knuckles with his thumb and the expression on his face looks like he's thinking hard about something.
Chanyeol finally works up enough nerve to ask Kyungsoo: "Are you lonely?"
Kyungsoo looks like he's considering it. He's curled up under Chanyeol's arm again, like he was the other night at the motel. "Sometimes," he decides. "Sometimes I'm really lonely." He inches his face closer and drops a shy kiss on the side of Chanyeol's mouth, then buries his face underneath Chanyeol's ear, embarrassed.
Chanyeol pulls Kyungsoo's body closer to his chest, arm looped around Kyungsoo's narrow waist. "What was that for?" he asks, suddenly hyperaware of everything around them. The prickle of grass underneath his bare arms, the quiet chugging of Yixing's guitar, Jongdae's high, clear voice working through a cover of Fall Out Boy's My Heart Is The Worst Kind Of Weapon over everyone else's conversations.
"Just wanted to," Kyungsoo says.
"What about Yura?"
"Where's Yura?" Kyungsoo asks stupidly. He's fiddling with the collar of Chanyeol's t-shirt and the soft brush of fingertips on Chanyeol's collarbones is driving him crazy. Chanyeol freezes at the question, though, and there's a sinking feeling in his stomach. Kyungsoo's really just looking for Yura, not him.
"With the AP guys, I guess," Chanyeol says. He starts to roll away, trying to extract himself out from underneath Kyungsoo's weight. Kyungsoo clings harder.
"Stop moving. I'm comfortable," he whines. "Just until we have to leave."
"Okay," Chanyeol soothes, patting his back. "I won't." He feels so tired now and he's worried someone like Baekhyun's going to come over and make a big deal about the two of them spooning by themselves in the grass. Then again, everyone's been drinking, and they all tend to get a little handsy when they're drunk, so maybe nobody will notice at all. Hesitantly, he tosses a leg over Kyungsoo's to keep him close while he listens to Kyungsoo's slow breathing even out.
montreal, quebec. july 5.
There's a problem with the band that plays the 7:00-7:30 slot on their stage. After some shuffling, Fistful of Assholes gets tapped to cover the spot. It's a good opportunity for them, honestly-gives them exposure during a prime performance time, and by 7:00 the sun isn't so high in the sky, so at least the stage isn't quite so sweltering. Kyungsoo promises it won't be for the rest of the tour and brings Chanyeol a pulled pork sandwich from the food truck as a consolation prize for missing dinner to set up. He's back to his normally stoic self, too businesslike to even stop and watch while Chanyeol's doing soundcheck. He's gone a minute later, and then Baekhyun's fussing about his earpiece so Chanyeol's too busy to worry about it.
Right after the band goes on, Jongdae pulls up a seat next to Chanyeol backstage and punches him in the thigh by way of saying hello.
"What are you doing here?" Chanyeol asks, speaking loudly over Baekhyun's warm-up speech to the crowd. He sounds good. Completely like his old self with the way he's cracking jokes and mugging for the front row. Jongdae frowns at Chanyeol, then points at his ear. Chanyeol notices the nubs of orange foam wedged into Jongdae's ear canal and nods to show he understands. Then the Assholes launch into their opening song-their first single, Always Eleven, which never fails to get the crowd roaring, and any hope of conversation is gone. He catches Jongdae in his peripheral vision singing along, head tipped back and belting at the top of his lungs, the sound swallowed by the nearby amps.
And then Kyungsoo's there, sliding his hands down Chanyeol's shoulders to let them rest on the base of his neck. Chanyeol's far too tall for Kyungsoo to do this when they're both standing. He tips his head back just far enough to make eye contact. Kyungsoo glances down at him and in his smile there's a flash of recognition of what they'd done the night before. There's no convincing himself now: Chanyeol knows that Kyungsoo remembers. He can tell. It's written on his face, plain as day. Kyungsoo goes wooden, smile nervous and faltering off his face, as he steps away to send a text message to someone.
Chanyeol wants to follow him, but he doesn't know what he'd even say. He's got a lot of questions about what this is but isn't sure he wants to know the answers.
holmdel, new jersey. july 6.
Chanyeol's trying to steal a quick fifteen minute nap in his bunk after the set when the door slams open and Yura's voice rings out in the tiny space: "Chanyeol? Brother of mine? You in here?"
"Girl on the bus!" Baekhyun bellows from somewhere in the back, the sound amplified by hands cupped around his mouth. "Hope you're all decent."
Yura scoffs and calls back, "Like you're ever decent, Baekhyun."
"I get by!"
Chanyeol sticks his head out of his bunk, squinting at Yura's blurry silhouette as she picks her way down the bus's narrow aisle, hands braced on the walls at either side.
"Yura?" He squints and blinks furiously, trying to get his contacts to unfold themselves in his eyes and start doing their job. "It's-five o'clock in the afternoon. Don't you have shows to cover?"
She lifts a shoulder, holds out her hand. "Wanted to hang out with you. Come on, let's go walk around."
When he sees her out in the sunlight, he can't help but laugh. She's wearing a Fistful of Assholes shirt, cut up the sides and tied in a row of neat little knots that follow the curve of her ribcage. She hands him a bottle of water and pushes her sunglasses up her nose.
"Nice shirt," he says.
"Sehun gave it to me," she says, linking her elbow with his to lead him down the row of merch tents. "I told him I was family of the band and I was supposed to have one."
"He's not supposed to do that." Chanyeol laughs again, but he's shaking his head too. "Kyungsoo's going to kill him for doing that. And maybe you, too."
"He won't kill me," Yura says confidently, "he likes me," and suddenly everything's weird. Chanyeol stiffens and drops his arm away from hers, then realizes his mistake and tries to cover for it by going for his phone.
Yura senses it immediately anyway, her sisterly instincts on high alert. She stops short, right in front of the Why Mes tent, and ignores Tao's attempts to say hello. Chanyeol manages a small wave down by his waist. Tao notices the look on Yura's face and backs away to deal with a customer.
"Speaking of Kyungsoo," Yura says, slow and deliberate. "Do you like him?" She puts a rubber band in her mouth and rakes her bobbed hair back into a short ponytail at the base of her neck. Her eyes never leave his face. She's being his sister right now, but she's also being a journalist-investigating, getting to the bottom of things. And he just doesn't want this to be one of her scoops, not when he's still trying to figure it out himself.
He turns his back, pointedly ignoring the question as he busies himself looking at the Why Mes shirts on display. They're all pretty ugly, but they give him something to look at while he avoids his sister's stare.
"It's a simple yes-or-no question," she continues. "Do. You. Like. Him?"
It's not simple. It'd be simple if he knew. His stomach flips with nervous energy. "I like him fine. He's a good manager."
She shoots him a withering look. In that moment, she's a carbon copy of their mother. Not that he'd ever tell her that. "You know how I meant."
His lips press together, corners dipping into a frown. "No, I don't," he lies.
"Bullshit," she says, tilting her head against his shoulder. "You're like a puppy sometimes." Chanyeol remembers being much smaller. Closer to her size. "You follow him around like one."
"I do not," he says, shrugging her off. "Stop hanging out with Baekhyun."
"Like I'd hang out with Baekhyun," she scoffs.
"I've barely seen you all summer," Chanyeol points out. "I don't know who you're hanging out with." Kyungsoo, his mind supplies. You're hanging out with Kyungsoo and he doesn't want to talk to me about it.
"I was just asking," Yura says, a strange catch in her voice. She sounds almost hurt, but after that she changes the subject and doesn't bring it up again.
darien, new york. july 8.
Kyungsoo appears out of nowhere just as Chanyeol's finished loading the trailer, hands in his back pockets.
"You're all done, right?" Kyungsoo asks as Chanyeol clambers over an amp and steps, blinking, into the sunlight.
"I-yeah, I guess," Chanyeol says, scratching the back of his head before he replaces his cap over his tousled hair. Three days without a shower and he feels like dying. Usually Kyungsoo's too busy supervising Sehun at the merch tent to come by during strike. "I was going to go crash in the bus for a few hours, if that's cool. Didn't sleep much last night-"
"Yeah, yeah, definitely. But you should come with me, first." Kyungsoo licks his lips nervously, offers Chanyeol a shy smile. "Please."
Kyungsoo instructs Chanyeol to complete a lot of things, but this is one of the few times he's asked Chanyeol for something outright with a smile on his face. Chanyeol knows he should probably be wary, but one brilliant flash of teeth and he's like so much putty in Kyungsoo's hands.
Yura's right. He is a fucking puppy, and Kyungsoo's the one holding the leash.
Half an hour later, Chanyeol finds himself exactly where he never wanted to be: strapped inside the Superman Ride of Steel roller coaster, white-knuckling the edge of the seat like he can hold himself on the ground through sheer force of strength. "I can't believe you talked me into this," he mutters through gritted teeth. "I hate these things."
"I'm here," Kyungsoo says, swiping a thumb across the back of Chanyeol's hand. "Don't worry."
The climb is the worst part. The slow, creeping ascent that seems to take years (it's definitely taking years off his life). To add insult to injury, Kyungsoo keeps elbowing him and kicking at Chanyeol's ankles.
"Open your eyes," he shouts.
"I'm alright," Chanyeol says, eyes still screwed tightly shut.
"You can see the whole park from up here," Kyungsoo says. "Look, the stages! I think the Why Mes are on right now. Chanyeol. Come on. Look! You're missing it!"
"I've seen the park already, I'm okay," Chanyeol says, afraid he's going to start babbling if he doesn't shut up. Kyungsoo laughs and then slips his hand around Chanyeol's, fingers reassuring and warm.
"I didn't realize you were such a big baby," he says. "You could've said no."
He could've, sure. But he didn't want to. Chanyeol never likes to say no to Kyungsoo, especially when it means spending more time with him. Kyungsoo doesn't ask for personal favors very often. Chanyeol's committed to saying yes first and asking what the favor entails later. It's usually not so bad-something like a wake-up call, an extra last-minute gig, or a week's delay on a paycheck. Something he can live with. Something that keeps his feet on the ground.
This, though? This is-
"I'm sorry," Kyungsoo says, breaking into his thoughts. He squeezes Chanyeol's hand a little tighter. "It'll be over soon. I promise. Just keep holding my hand."
Chanyeol winces, listening to the ratcheting click of the chain slow to a stop. They've reached the peak and he's changed his mind: this is the worst part, the moment right before you fall, when you don't know when it's coming, or how it's going to feel, or how long it's going to last. The point of no return.
And then the car lurches forward.
He experiences weightlessness for two full seconds as the car hangs over the precipice, and then plunges. He opens his mouth to scream but his lungs are empty. It feels like they fall forever, Kyungsoo's fingers gripping his, his delighted laughter ringing in Chanyeol's ears over the screams of the other passengers in the car.
Kyungsoo has to unbuckle Chanyeol's safety belt for him at the end of the ride. Chanyeol's hands are shaking too hard to get a grip. He sits rigid with embarrassment, trying not to make eye contact with the ride operator, some pimply-faced teenager who looks on with poorly-concealed amusement at the stricken look on Chanyeol's face. Chanyeol's so freaked out he doesn't even think to notice the proximity of Kyungsoo's face to his, doesn't try to get another count of the tiny moles sprinkled down his neck, just to make sure he's got the number right. He closes his eyes and swallows, lets Kyungsoo lead him off the platform and out through the winding metal barricades.
The dried tears on Chanyeol's cheeks sting, skin stiff and salty. "You're okay," Kyungsoo says, pulling him aside to sit him down on a bench. "It's over."
"I know," Chanyeol says, but Kyungsoo has to pry Chanyeol's fingers off one by one in order to extract his hand from Chanyeol's iron grip. He's smiling when Chanyeol finally cracks open his eyes.
"Want to go again?"
"Hilarious," Chanyeol wheezes, feeling his stomach clench at the mere mention of a second trip. "But no. I'll watch you from down here."
"Nah," Kyungsoo says, using the pads of his thumbs to help clean Chanyeol's cheeks. "Not as much fun without you."
"I hate roller coasters," Chanyeol mutters, tilting his face down to make it easier on Kyungsoo. He can't quite bring himself to look Kyungsoo square in the eye, as though revealing this particular weakness has left him feeling too vulnerable.
"You should've said something before we got in line, then," Kyungsoo says reasonably, thumb slowing on the soft curve of Chanyeol's cheek. "I wouldn't have dragged you if I'd known."
Chanyeol doesn't know how to say, There's not a lot I wouldn't do. "What doesn't kill you, right?" he says, instead. When he finally looks up, Kyungsoo slides his hands to the base of Chanyeol's neck, holding him steady, forcing Chanyeol to look him straight in the eye.
"Don't worry. I won't tell Baekhyun you cried," Kyungsoo says, face splitting into a wide butterfly grin. For a moment, Chanyeol thinks-hopes-Kyungsoo's going to kiss him, in daylight this time, no alcohol required, but he steps back instead, slips his arm around Chanyeol's waist. "Your secret's safe with me."
scranton, pennsylvania. july 9.
As the summer's worn on, Sehun's gotten slower and slower with setting up the table and tearing it down at the end of the day. Sometimes it takes him so long that dinner's over and the trailer's already packed.
He's also spending more time with Yixing. Every time Chanyeol swings by the merch tent or the bus, Sehun's sitting next to Yixing, listening with rapt attention as Yixing explains the difference between all the pedals he uses during a given show. Chanyeol's never seen Sehun look so enthusiastic about anything in his life, so he cuts him a little slack and pulls up a chair to sell some CDs. And after an hour and fifteen minutes of money changing hands and mind-numbing small talk with teenagers, he gains a new appreciation for what Sehun does, and vows not to pick on him so much anymore. The kid's been working hard. He's earned the right to bitch about it.
mansfield, massachusetts. july 10.
Chanyeol goes to catch one of Jongdae's sets. He's been a casual fan ever since Jongdae gave him the CD, but he hasn't had much of a chance to see them live. He's always way too busy with the Assholes to take the time off. The ringing in his ears hasn't stopped since they left Houston, so he's content to sit a few dozen yards back behind the rest of the crowd, eyes closed and listening to the way Jondgae's voice commands the amphitheater. Anyone in a mile radius can probably hear him with the way he's belting song after song into the microphone, held high over his head but close to his mouth like he's doing his best impression of Freddie Mercury.
Baekhyun wanders by and sits next to him to keep him company. Baekhyun's idea of keeping someone company involves pulling fistfuls of grass from the lawn and dumping them in his victim's lap. Chanyeol lets it accumulate like so much green snow, knowing that if he gives Baekhyun even a little bit of attention, the grass will smother him to death.
"Takes me back," Baekhyun says, when he gets bored with the grass. He leans back and gestures at the swarm of moshing bodies huddled together against the front barricade. He's talking about the old band. Black Pearl. Chanyeol and Baekhyun had both been fairly serious about it-as serious as you can be about a band when you're sixteen years old and every song is about some nameless, faceless somebody who ripped your fucking heart out and stomped on it.
Chanyeol leans back, legs crossed at the ankles, and shades his eyes with the flat of his hand. "Those were the days."
When Chanyeol thinks about it, this really should have been their gig. Their duo had had a few club engagements here and there-nothing big, but enough that they were known in the local punk scene and opened for most of the mid-tier bands who came through to play. Kyungsoo, too, had been around and played the underground club circuit. His music was more emo than anything else and sounded a lot like something that would have come out of a Chris Carrabba phase (but Chanyeol had never been stupid enough to say those words out loud to Kyungsoo. He values his neck too much to risk it being broken).
The Assholes had been another local group, but bigger. Opened for Green Day that one time kind of big, but then there had been a split and the original lead singer, Kevin, had defected to another scene and took half of the fan base with him. They'd borrowed Baekhyun for a weekend that turned into a month that turned into a recording session, a record deal, and finally a small national tour of their own. The rest was history.
No lead singer meant that Black Pearl was dead, so Chanyeol stayed behind and worked at the local Guitar Center. At least, until Baekhyun got the bright idea to bring Chanyeol out on the road with them. It had started mostly as an excuse for Baekhyun to have someone to hang out with, but Chanyeol's cheerful disposition and vast knowledge of music and techie shit meant that he quickly gained Yixing's trust with his guitars, could talk Black Flag and the Ramones with Lu Han until the wee hours of the morning, and even charmed Kyungsoo, who'd always been on the pricklier side of the managers Chanyeol had met. He's loosened up a lot in the years since. You almost had to when your lead singer was a force of nature and tended towards total destruction.
"This could be you, you know," Baekhyun says, flinging a hand at the stage. Chanyeol turns just in time to see Jongdae grab his crotch and double over, wailing into the microphone. He snorts.
"No, it couldn't."
Baekhyun presses on. "It could, though. You've got all this music you've been working on-why don't you let me hear it?"
Chanyeol shrugs and leans back on his elbows.
"Aren't you bored? You should quit. Go make your own band. Strike it rich."
"Yeah, because that's how it works." Chanyeol rolls his eyes and stretches out to his full height, head pillowed by his hands. "I'm happy doing this. It's the best job I've ever had." What Baekhyun's saying makes sense, but he'd miss this too much. He's not ready to move on just yet.
camden, new jersey. july 11.
There's a late-night diner just off the interstate that they always stop at whenever they're coming through these parts. They all pile in a booth designed for four people. Chanyeol ends up squished in between Yixing and Sehun. Kyungsoo sits across the table, pushing Baekhyun off his shoulder every time Baekhyun tries to settle in and take a nap.
Food arrives. Chanyeol reaches across the table to retrieve a ketchup-laden french fry from Kyungsoo's plate.
"Hey," Kyungsoo admonishes, swatting at Chanyeol's hand. "You should have ordered your own if you wanted some."
Chanyeol grins at him and kicks him under the table. "You should have just ordered two plates. How long have we been doing this?"
Kyungsoo's quiet for a moment as he chews, considering this. "Fair point." He pushes the plate closer to Chanyeol. "You win this time. But you're paying for it."
"You guys are like a married couple," Jongdae says. "Which makes us your kids."
Sehun wrinkles his nose. "I'm not a kid," he insists. Tao laughs and elbows him in the ribs. Sehun bangs his knee on the underside of the table trying to get away from him and nearly ends up in Chanyeol's lap.
"Does that make Chanyeol the mom?" Baekhyun asks, ignoring the scuffle.
"I'm not your mom," Chanyeol says.
Kyungsoo shakes his head. "And I'm not your dad."
Chanyeol makes to kick him under the table again, playful grin stretched wide across his face, but Kyungsoo's ready for him this time and catches Chanyeol's foot between his ankles. He pulls the tangle of limbs back underneath his bench, smiles to himself, and holds out another fry for Chanyeol to take.
wantagh, new york. july 12.
It's cold in New York. Really cold. It starts raining early in the day, before the tents have even set up. Sehun sits huddled behind the merch table and looks so miserable that Kyungsoo takes pity on him and brings him a massive thermos of coffee to keep his hands warm.
Chanyeol fucking hates it when it rains on the tour. The body odor and sweat is bad, but wiping out on the slippery terrain is worse. Plus, there's no way to get clean, and even if you do manage to score a shower somewhere, there's no way to get dry. Jongdae slinks by the tent after his set, streaks of mud winding up his biceps from doing god only knows what. His jeans are ruined.
"Fuck this," Jongdae says. "I quit."
Sehun offers him a cup of coffee. Jongdae takes it and drinks it like a shot of tequila, scorching liquid knocked back in one go, gone as quickly as it'd appeared.
Baekhyun sniffles and rubs at his face, bleary-eyed and staring vacantly. He's gone through half a box of tissues today. The rain's wrecking havoc on his voice and he keeps complaining he's running a fever.
"Me too," Baekhyun says, looking up at Jongdae. "I mean it."
"You don't get to quit," Kyungsoo threatens. "Not until I've made enough money to pay off my car and buy a house."
"So, that'd be never," Jongdae says cheerfully, plopping into Baekhyun's lap. Baekhyun grimaces, face pained. He struggles to get out from underneath Jongdae but Jongdae's got a lot of muscle and weighs more than Baekhyun's even remotely capable of bench-pressing. He's stuck.
"Your ass is so bony," he whines, petulant as ever.
Jongdae gives him a sloppy kiss on the cheek, obviously just for show. A few fan girls who have been watching giggle at the obnoxious display of affection. "You're welcome."
hartford, connecticut. july 13.
Every night the lights go out and Chanyeol holds his breath. It's getting so he can count down to the hand appearing around the curtain, the tired face that looms at him from the end of the bed.
"Come here," he says, like he really needs to say anything. Kyungsoo would get in anyway. Chanyeol prefers the closeness now, even if he's just hugging himself when he wakes up.
Kyungsoo wriggles around uncomfortably. "Shit. What the hell do you have in here?" He reaches underneath himself, elbowing Chanyeol in the face as he unearths a stray Sharpie. "Uh."
"I was looking for that!" Chanyeol says, snatching it from between Kyungsoo's fingers. "I thought it'd rolled onto the floor somewhere." He holds it up into a shaft of moonlight and twists it around. Kyungsoo's hand skirts up Chanyeol's forearm, fingers twisting past Chanyeol's knuckles to hold his hand.
A memory surfaces. Yura telling Kyungsoo he'd look good with a tattoo. Chanyeol pulls his hand away and uncaps the marker, holds Kyungsoo's arm in front of his face and draws a smiley face right in the crook of his elbow.
"Hey," Kyungsoo says when he realizes what Chanyeol's up to. "Stop that." He yanks away and rolls over.
"I'm just giving you your first tattoo," Chanyeol says. Kyungsoo lies very still for a long time, so long that Chanyeol thinks he's fallen asleep, until Kyungsoo rolls back over and flings his arm back across Chanyeol's chest, knocking the wind out of him.
Chanyeol grunts so loudly that they both freeze for a moment, listening to Baekhyun roll over above them. "What was that for?" he gasps, when he's sure the entire bus is still asleep.
"Give me something else," Kyungsoo says. "Another one." Chanyeol uncaps the marker with his teeth and starts doodling stars around Kyungsoo's elbow. He's trying to approximate a constellation-Capricorn, Kyungsoo's sign, but mostly it just looks like a smattering of twinkles without any particular rhyme or reason. Lulled by the movement of the bus or the felt-tipped pen dragging across his skin, Kyungsoo curls into Chanyeol's side, arm still draped across Chanyeol's chest, and slowly dozes off.
burgettstown, pennsylvania. july 15.
Chanyeol's starting to feel a little bit like Cinderella. Or like he's living a double life. As soon as the sun rises, Kyungsoo crawls out of Chanyeol's bed and doesn't come near him for anything not directly involved with the show until the day's over and it's dark again. There's no indication that anything's going on, although the stars from the other night are still there on Kyungsoo's arm. Nobody's had a chance to take a shower so they're crisp and black, like Chanyeol'd just drawn them. Every time Kyungsoo rolls up his sleeves Chanyeol feels flushed and overheated. Kyungsoo looks at him backstage in the middle of a set and it's like the way things used to be before they started messing around, or whatever this is. It's such a stark contrast that Chanyeol's started to catch himself rubbing his lower lip and wondering if the phantom bite he's feeling is from his own teeth or Kyungsoo's.
And then the lights go out and they get back on the road and Kyungsoo's right there, ready to remind him.
cincinnati, ohio. july 16.
Following strike, Kyungsoo sends Chanyeol to 'supervise' Sehun over at the merch tent. He's needed a babysitter (Kyungsoo's words, much to Sehun's dismay) ever since a couple t-shirts went missing back in New Jersey. It's a shitty situation, since it could have happened to anyone, especially with the high volume of concertgoers. They weren't the only victims of theft that day, either. Plenty of shit gets swiped-display CDs, bottles of water, patches and pins. People get grabby. It's obnoxious as fuck, but it's par for the course. Which is why-
"This is fucking stupid," Sehun grouses, when he catches sight of Chanyeol with his guitar slung over his shoulder, towering above the heads of a group of girls. "How many people does it take to watch me? Am I really that bad? Just fucking fire me already."
Baekhyun's voice comes from somewhere on the floor behind Sehun. "Hey, I'm not watching you. I'm just hanging out." Chanyeol peers over the edge of the table just in time for Jongdae's head to pop up, too.
"I'm avoiding responsibilities," Jongdae says earnestly. "I've got a show in an hour and a half. Hey, Chanyeol."
Chanyeol raises his hand by way of greeting and turns back to Sehun. "Look, keeping Kyungsoo happy means we all get to be happy. I trust you. I'm just going to sit here, okay? I won't hover. You won't even know I'm here."
Sehun shrugs and goes back to his manga. Chanyeol takes that as acceptance of his presence and sits down next to Jongdae in the dirt under the shade of the tent, pulls his guitar into his lap. The ground's still a little soft from the rain they've been having, but it's dry enough that his jeans don't soak through immediately.
"Dude," Baekhyun says, yanking his hand away from where Jongdae's been scribbling Sharpie all over his fingernails like nail polish. Jongdae makes a disgruntled noise and draws a black line down Baekhyun's arm in retaliation. Baekhyun licks his thumb and wipes at the mark. "You dick."
Jongdae grins and blows him a kiss.
Baekhyun lowers his voice and peeks up underneath his eyebrows at Sehun before he continues. "I meant to ask you, but we've been crazy busy with everything. And you don't have to answer if you don't want to, but I just wanted to know. Is something going on between you and Kyungsoo?" He looks back at Jongdae. "You can talk in front of Jongdae. We're not going to judge or anything."
Chanyeol's taken aback at the sudden question. He'd hoped Baekhyun and Jongdae hadn't noticed anything, but then again, they'd have to be completely blind not to. He rubs the back of his neck and shrugs, as nonchalant as he can manage when his heart's thudding somewhere near his tonsils. "Nah, he-I think he likes Yura, actually."
Baekhyun's got the finely-honed senses of a teenage girl. He zeroes in on what Chanyeol's not saying and, whether through sheer dumb luck, an intimate knowledge of Chanyeol as his best friend, or some combination of both, he nails it: "So you admit you want something to be going on between you?"
Chanyeol starts fiddling with the tuning pegs on his guitar, switching it to drop d tuning just for something to do, even though none of the Assholes' songs use it. "I didn't say that," he says finally, carefully.
"They've been hanging out together a lot lately," Jongdae points out. "Kyungsoo and Yura, I mean." He looks at Chanyeol, an amused smile curving the corners of his mouth. "Is that why you've started growing out your hair? To compete?"
"Shut up," Chanyeol huffs, reaching over to pull the guitar off the stand for something to do, something to occupy his hands. He's starting to get antsy with this line of questioning. No good can come of it, really. Once Baekhyun and Jongdae get a whiff of something, though, they're relentless, a couple of hounds on a fox's trail. Chanyeol's the fox, and judging by the glint in their eyes, he's fucking doomed.
Baekhyun shakes his head. "No-that's what I thought at the beginning of the summer, but you two get kind of weird with each other after dark. You're always sneaking off somewhere together."
Chanyeol snorts. "We're not 'sneaking off.' This isn't hide-and-seek."
"Whatever it is. Sometimes I come looking for you and I can't find you."
"He's just-confused, I think. I know we look alike-but he likes Yura, not me."
"Why does he always end up in your bed, then?" Baekhyun demands. "You guys think I don't hear you when he comes into your bunk at night? You're literally two feet away from me."
"Wait. Hold on. You think-he's getting you two mixed up?" Jongdae bursts out laughing, doubled over in his chair, chin on his knees. Baekhyun flops on top of him, also shaking with helpless laughter. It takes a minute for the two of them to get a grip. Baekhyun barely manages to pull himself back into an upright seated position and Jongdae's mopping tears out of the corners of his eyes with the hem of his t-shirt.
"What?" Chanyeol asks crossly. "Don't you have your own group, anyway? Why are you here, hanging out at our merch tent?" He kicks at the leg of Jongdae's chair. Jongdae ignores Chanyeol's outburst.
"Let me get this straight," Jongdae says, and then dissolves into another giggling. "You're just letting him kiss you because you think he's mistaking you... for your sister."
"But you really like him," Baekhyun chimes in. "Why don't you just tell him you've got the hots for him?"
"Because he's my boss? Because I think he likes my sister, or my sister likes him, or something."
"Why are you making it so complicated?" Baekhyun asks. Chanyeol tries-and fails-not to notice the way Jongdae's hand snakes into Baekhyun's lap, cupping his inner thigh in a way that's so shockingly intimate that Chanyeol almost feels like he's intruding in on something between them.
"What about you?" he blurts. "What's-this?" He gesticulates widely between the two of them.
"We're working on a song together," Jongdae says without missing a beat. "Side project. For fun. Combining our powers for good and not evil."
Chanyeol cocks an eyebrow. He's not buying this story. "That's it?"
"Why?" Baekhyun challenges, grinning. He wiggles his eyebrows like he's daring Chanyeol to say something, anything. "What do you think we're doing together?"
Chanyeol sits back in his chair and covers his face with both of his hands. He's not ready to have this conversation and he's regretting bringing it up in the first place. Thankfully, a few fans come up at that point and interrupt: a teenage girl and her friends, giggling and excited. They elbow each other a few times before the front girl is shoved in front of the group, unceremoniously, nominated as their representative to ask for an autograph from Baekhyun and Jongdae. Baekhyun grins and sits up, snatching the Sharpie out of Jongdae's hand. Chanyeol takes the opportunity to retreat. He drags his chair back a few feet until he's sitting next to Sehun at the merch table.
"He's not dating Yura," Sehun says, flipping the latch on the money box. So he'd been eavesdropping on the whole conversation after all. Great. By tomorrow, the whole damn tour will know. The latch squeaks every time Sehun flicks it. Open, shut. Open, shut. "They walk around a lot. Sometimes they sit here and talk."
"Talk? About what?"
Sehun shrugs. Chanyeol leans over and punches him in the shoulder.
"Sehun. What do they talk about?"
"Ow!" Sehun protests, rubbing at his arm. "That fucking hurt."
"I'll do it again if you don't tell me," Chanyeol threatens, winding up for round two.
"I mean, I don't really listen to what they're talking about, I've got to deal with people-"
"Sehun."
Sehun flinches away from Chanyeol's fist. "Fine, fine! Just don't hit me," he says, fingers spread in front of his chest in a classic pose of surrender. He glances over to see whether Jongdae and Baekhyun are still preoccupied with the fans-they are-and then leans in to whisper in Chanyeol's ear: "They talk about you."
Chanyeol's stomach curls, though not unpleasantly, and he finds he can't stop smiling.
cuyahoga falls, ohio. july 17.
"You've been avoiding me."
Chanyeol looks over his shoulder and sees Yura standing behind him on the trailer's ramp, hands on her hips. He sets down the guitar case he's holding and wipes the sweat from his face. "I have not."
She gives him a Look, one of those sisterly glares that pins him in place. "Ever since I asked you about Kyungsoo. You got weird on me."
Chanyeol thinks about what Sehun told him yesterday and realizes Sehun had probably said something to Yura when she came by. Typical little gossip. Still, he feigns ignorance. "Weird?"
"Weirder than usual." She studies him. "I was hoping you'd ask me about him. What was going on."
Sehun hadn't elaborated on what 'talking about you' meant, exactly, and Chanyeol feels a sinking dismay at the way Yura's looking at him right now. That expression-he's familiar enough with it to know. She's not going to say anything he wants to hear.
"Do we have to do this now?" Chanyeol gestures back at the mountain of equipment stacked precariously behind her. "I've got-you know, a job to do."
She picks up a mic stand and gestures with it. "Fine. Do your job. I'll help."
He gazes at her for a moment. She's determined to stick around. There won't be any getting rid of her, not until she gets exactly what she wants. It's one of Yura's finest qualities when she's doing her own job, but right now Chanyeol just wants to be left alone to sweat and toil in peace.
"So," she continues, "what's going on?"
"I don't know. You tell me."
She drops the mic stand on the floor. It clatters loudly and the noise echoes painfully in the tiny trailer. "You think I won't kick your ass? I did it when you were ten and I'll do it again, Chanyeol."
"Fine," he snaps, irritated. "What do you want to know? I know you guys are-whatever you're doing." Pause. "I didn't ask because I didn't want to know."
"You didn't ask because you assumed-you know we're just friends, right? We've known each other since his last band. It's not what you think."
Chanyeol really doesn't want to hear excuses. Somehow, being lied to is even more painful than the thought that his sister is really the one Kyungsoo wants. "Okay, Yura. Thank you for letting me know."
Yura drapes the back of her hand across her forehead in a dramatic pose. Chanyeol's reminded of their mother again. "You know, when you came out, I never thought there'd be any sort of confusion about dudes between us."
"I'm sorry." He cringes. "I don't-"
"He likes you, you idiot."
Chanyeol can't suppress the grin that breaks out on his face. "Really. Did he tell you that?"
"I can't believe I'm doing this," she snaps. "This is so high school. Fuck you. Ask him yourself. I'm not your matchmaker." And then, over her shoulder as she leaves: "You guys are cute. Stop avoiding him."
auburn hills, michigan. july 18.
Baekhyun has a bad show.
It happens to everyone. Off days happen; there's no way to be a hundred percent every single time. Still, Baekhyun takes it so personally every single time. He completely misses his high note in the first song and it goes downhill very rapidly from there. Chanyeol can see him getting more and more frustrated, winding the mic cord around his forearm an extra time like it'll fortify him, protect him from the humiliation.
It doesn't.
He storms off stage after the last song without bothering to say goodbye to the fans, brushes past Kyungsoo and Chanyeol with a thundercloud above his head. When Lu Han calls after him, he bites out, "Need a shower," and disappears behind a van.
"Leave him," Yixing says gently, pulling Lu Han up short. "He'll be okay. Just give him a chance to cool off."
Chanyeol finds him still taking a shower out behind the bus, shivering under the cold water, stripped naked for the world to see. "Hey," Chanyeol says, and Baekhyun jumps.
"You mind?" he splutters, making a half-hearted attempt to cover his junk. He can't quite manage it because he needs both hands to do it properly, but he's got to keep one hand on the shower chain to keep the water flowing. He compromises by spreading his fingers wide, which isn't nearly as effective as he probably thinks it is. Chanyeol resists the urge to laugh.
"Nothing I haven't seen before," Chanyeol says. There's a towel sitting off to the side next to a set of dry clothes. He picks it up and unfolds it, holds it open wide for Baekhyun to step into it.
"I don't know how many more of those I have left in me," Baekhyun admits when he's dried off and dressed. "It's just not fun anymore."
"Is this about the review? Because Yura says that guy's an asshole-"
Baekhyun smiles wanly. "It's not that. Well, not just that." His hair's cowlicked in six different directions from rubbing it dry with the towel. He runs his fingers through it to try and get it to lie flat, but it keeps springing back. He looks like the demented older brother of Alfalfa or something. "It's just-I used to get excited about this. And now I'm just ready to get back to the bus every night."
"Well, that's understandable. I mean, it's a long tour-"
"If we weren't on Warped, we'd be out on our own anyway," Baekhyun points out. "Same shit, different bus. I don't know." He sighs through his teeth, irritated. Then, like an electric current's passing through him, his head jerks up. "You're not going to tell Kyungsoo, are you?"
"I don't even know what I'd be telling him," Chanyeol says honestly, palms turning to the sky. Baekhyun's eyes narrow, contemplating this.
"Good," he decides finally. "I just-I'm going to go catch Jongdae's set. I'll be back later. I'm sorry. Just-forget I said anything."
Chanyeol watches him leave. He hates that it's been cold and shitty the past few weeks. He hates that this whole summer is turning out wrong, hates that everything feels like it's suddenly got an expiration date.
→ PART 3