Everything About Living Free [2/8]
Title: Everything about living free
Pairing: kris/lay
Rating: PG-13
Length: 43,278 words
Summary: Yixing has an eight-step list to change his life and the first thing is to get a tattoo. What’s not on the list, however, is the hot tattoo artist that comes along. (it's so much more than that, really)
{item n. 1}
2. Dye my hair
The cashier keeps glancing at them through the mirror as they explore the small drugstore in search for everything they need to dye Yixing’s hair. It’s delightful how eager his friends seem to be, although Yixing really thinks they’re just excited because there’s a chance he’ll look ridiculous with his new hair colour.
“We have everything!” Song Qian announces.
“Hey Yixing, how do you feel about green?” Jongdae bursts into giggles, but they instantly stop when his fiancée calls about furniture for their new home.
“Not good.” Yixing says to no one as Baekhyun and Song Qian rush over to the counter to pay. They’re being loud about something and Yixing doesn’t want to be associated with them, so he wanders away, checking out some tampons.
He’s thinking about buying a box just to make a useless purchase when someone approaches him. Someone he, unexpectedly, knows.
“I know you.” says a tall, brunette man wearing a hairband and a black sleeveless shirt showing off his tattooed arms and sporting a careful smile.
Yixing arches his eyebrows in surprise. “Yes, you do! Hi, Yifan right?”
The tattoo artist.
“That’s right.” Yifan pockets his hands. There’s something about the way his eyes linger that Yixing can’t quite pinpoint. “What are you up to?”
“I’m,” he points to his friends at the cashier. “Coloring my hair, so…”
Yifan furrows his eyebrows, and it’s sad how nice that looks. “Oh, right now? Isn’t it a little late for hairstyling?”
“Hey look, it’s the tattoo artist guy! Mr. Handsome!” Baekhyun screeches. Yixing closes his eyes slowly, wincing as he listens to his friends getting closer. “He made Yixing’s tattoo!”
“It’s Yifan.” he hears the man say. Yixing opens his eyes and takes in the way the trio hungrily stares at Yifan. Yixing just knows that if they’re not stopped a billion questions will be asked.
“So, what are you doing here?” he cuts in. Yifan’s eyes shift to him.
“Uh, nothing actually. I was heading home and I thought I saw you walking in, then…” he muses for a while, blinking as he does that thing with his eyes that Yixing can’t understand. “It really was you.”
There’s a short moment of silence that stretches between them as Song Qian’s soft humming fills the air, and Yixing tries to return that look. Although he doesn’t need to put in much effort.
“We’re going to dye his hair orange, wanna come?” Jongdae blurts out.
Yifan seems to think about it, cocking his head and looking at Yixing. And then he smiles. “Sure.”
Yifan is a very confusing man. He looks cute when he smiles, and then he narrows his eyes and his brows crease and he looks dangerous. Yixing doesn’t know which one he likes the best, but comes to treasure each. Right now he’s smiling as Baekhyun and Jongdae dance around the tiny space by Yixing’s bed, and his arms are leaned back, supporting his weight on the mattress. His arms are flexed and Yixing isn’t even paying attention to the conversation.
“So… Orange?” Yifan’s voice cuts through his mind and Yixing turns to face him.
“Why not red?”
“You think I’d look good in red?” he asks and Yifan chuckles, but doesn’t answer. “I guess it’s because I’ve always thought about dying my hair, but orange never crossed my mind. And that’s the whole point.”
Yifan frowns, “The whole point to what?”
“To his list!” says Baekhyun from where he wrestles something Yixing’d rather not to know what out of Jongdae’s hands. His words doesn’t seem to make sense to Yifan, who just keeps on frowning.
Yixing shakes his head, feeling the tips of his ears warming up under Yifan’s intent gaze. “All you need to know is that there is a list,” Yifan squints at him, eyebrows srunched together. “Of things I’m supposed to do.”
“Was the tattoo an item on this list?” the other asks.
“You’re quick!” Song Qian comes from the small area of Yixing’s kitchen with gloved hands and a tint brush, the ends smeared with orange. “Come on, we’re ready.”
Yixing follows her back to the kitchen where his plastic chair is already positioned with Song Qian looking dutiful next to it. Baekhyun and Jongdae forget whatever quarrel got them engaged and run after them. Yixing sits on the chair and spots Yifan leaning against his fridge, crossed arms and undecipherable little mouth tug on. It’s barely a smile, but it fits him. All kinds of smile fit Yifan, Yixing thinks.
“I’m starting. Bid your virgin little hair goodbye.” Song Qian announces and Jongdae giggles.
This is it. Yixing closes his eyes and feels his friend’s slim, manicured hands gently pulling his hair and soon enough, something cool touches his scalp. He winces as his friends holler. Yixing opens his eyes just in time to catch a full grin taking over Yifan’s face.
“You think this is funny?” Yixing inquires. Yifan shrugs.
“I think it’s cool.” he answers.
“Have you always wanted to be a tattoo artist?” Baekhyun asks out of nowhere. “Most people with cool, offbeat jobs have usually have a not-so-good experience with the boring occupations.”
“I’ve always wanted to be an artist.” Yifan answers. “Went to school for art and stuff.”
“And how did the studio happen? I mean, you could have turned out to be a regular street artist, painting dog portraits and begging people to buy your paintings.” Yixing teases, eliciting a smirk from the other.
“Zitao, my partner, he graduated and thought we could ink people for a living.” he says. “It’s been working so far.”
“Definitely,” Song Qian winds in as she tugs another strand of Yixing’s hair and brushes hair bleach all over it. “I love Yixing’s tattoo.”
“Tattoos are cool.” Jongdae says matter-of-factly.
Yifan’s eyebrows twitch, an almost frown, and Yixing bites on his lower lip. He’s cute. “Why don’t you have one?”
Jongdae widens his eyes and waves his hands. “My fiancée would kill me. Then she would go an extra mile and dump me.”
Baekhyun snorts, “Because she wants to kill you everyday, right? So that’s not really a big deal.”
“She puts up with a lot, the poor thing.” Song Qian sighs and Yifan laughs. He looks pretty comfortable amongst them, but still maintains his distance, watching from afar and only talking when addressed to. Yixing wonders if there will be opportunities in the future for him to change that.
Song Qian silently bleaches Yixing’s hair as the conversation takes a turn on Baekhyun and Jongdae trash-talking about Yixing’s living arrangements. Yixing knows she’s dying to say something and she would have usually barked indignantly by now, he doesn’t understand what’s holding her back.
“Aren’t you going to join them?” he asks her quietly when Baekhyun picks one of Yixing’s shoes by the shoelace and hurls it across the room. It lands with a smack on the opposite wall and Yixing is pretty sure there is shoeprint on his wall now.
She shrugs, “I’ve said enough already. But what really bothers me is how there is this cute guy in your apartment right now and yet you don’t feel the slightest bit embarrassed by the mess you live in.”
“The mess I live in is part of me. Whoever accepts me in their lives has to accept my lifestyle too.”
“You mean your shit thrown all over the place.”
Suddenly, Jongdae screams. He stares down at his phone in horror, mouth ajar and eyes so wide Yixing wouldn’t be surprised if they popped right out of its sockets there and then. Baekhyun approaches him quickly, hand touching his shoulder whilepeeking at the phone.
“What’s wrong?” Song Qian stops prodding at Yixing’s hair to look at Jongdae curiously. Yifan just stares at them all.
Yixing almost stands up from his seat when Baekhyun’s face shifts, his eyebrows arching up and mouth stretching into a smile. Jongdae remains horrified.
“Soojung is pregnant.” Baekhyun says, eyes lifting from Jongdae’s phone.
“What.” Jongdae utters.
“Are you sure?” Yixing questions, getting up from the chair and stepping closer to them.
“Yep, she just texted him ‘I’m pregnant xo’.” Baekhyun steals Jongdae’s phone and hands it over, Song Qian grabbing it quickly and passing it to Yixing after reading.
It really is a simple text saying ‘I’m pregnant, xo’.
“Oh my God, Jongdae,” Song Qian coos, moving to crush Jongdae into a hug, his immobile form being wrapped around her passively. “You’re going to be a father!”
If you asked Yixing a few years ago, he wouldn’t be able to imagine Jongdae as a father, but now he can see his friend with a family, a prankster-born girl like him and a control-freak boy like Soojung. It’s a beautiful vision. “Congrats, man.” he says, touching Jongdae’s head.
“I need to go home.” says Jongdae, suddenly coming back to life, rushing out of Song Qian’s hug and grabbing his bag from the floor. He looks as if he is bordering on the lines of insanity. “Talk to you guys later.” and leaves.
“Ok, I worry for the kid.” Baekhyun says not even a heartbeat after Jongdae leaves. “Jongdae’s cool, but you can’t compensate the struggle of spending nine months in Soojung’s womb? Only to come out in this world and live with her? As a mother? Can you imagine how much she’s going to make him, or her, suffer?”
“She’s going to be a great mother.” Song Qian says, grabbing Yixing by the arm and sitting him back on the chair.
Yixing’s gaze gravitates toward Yifan, who has a smile on his lips, as usual. He smiles back.
Once his hair is completely white and after Baekhyun has finished snapping pictures to share with their friends, Song Qian applies orange dye on Yixing’s hair, instructing him to wait thirty minutes for the dye to work. His two friends engage in Dead Rising 3 as Yixing sits on the kitchen floor with Yifan.
“So,” the tattoo artist says after a while in silence. “What’s the next item on your list?”
Yixing frowns, trying to recall the scribbles on his paper. “I don’t remember? I guess it’s the cat thing.”
“The cat thing?”
“Adopt one,” he explains. “Give a living creature a home.”
Yifan nods, blinking at Yixing. His eyes do that thing once more, and Yixing is starting to see a pattern. “I have a hamster named Toy, I know what you mean.”
“Toy?” Yixing laughs. “Care to explain?”
“Sure,” Yifan chuckles, shaking his head and Yixing watches as his hair flops around. “He looks like something that you can squish and play with. Thus the name.”
Yixing hums, eyes blinking at his feet, wondering if it’s ok if he gets a little too curious about certain aspects of Yifan’s life. Such as what else matters to him. “Is Toy your only companion?” he asks carefully, looking at Yifan from behind his lashes.
The other nods. “Just the two of us.”
“Where do you live?” he ventures.
“Mapo-gu,” Yifan answers easily. “Northwest of the river.”
Something tugs at Yixing’s stomach. Yifan lives in Mapo, which means he was almost home when Yixing and his friends decided to drag him along all the way to Gwanak, which is a 45 minutes ride.
He arches his eyebrows at Yifan, who just smiles knowingly. “You were really heading home, then.”
“I was, like, ten steps from home.” he laughs. “But that’s fine, I wasn’t tired. Besides, it’s funnier to watch your hair orange than to sit with Toy and watch reruns of Miami Ink.” Yifan reaches up to touch Yixing’s hair, his index finger coming out orange. He inspects it intently, eyebrows furrowed, and Yixing would squeak at how cute it is if he didn’t have any appreciation for what’s left of his dignity. So he just smiles, and Yifan’s smile widens.
✦
He can feel his coworkers’ eyes on him. In fact, he’s been feeling it the whole morning. And it’s not even their lunch break yet. One of the seniors passes by his cubicle and lets out a horrified gasp, God almighty take the wheel. Yixing rolls his eyes and folds another paper plane, adding it to his collection next to the inbox and hooking the phone from his last unsuccessful call. He’s been awfully distracted, not scoring any higher from his coworkers, some even stopping by his cubicle to steal his paper planes and call the numbers he had given up on. He’s pretty sure his name is ranking low on the Top Sellers list, and the interesting thing is that he can’t bring himself to give a single fuck.
When lunch break hits, Yixing drags Song Qian to eat out, not wanting to spend his most precious working hours with judgemental stares sent in his general direction. They find a nice place selling dumplings in Myeongdong with kalgooksoo and iced tea.
“The waitress is staring at me,” Yixing says loudly in Chinese. He’s not sure why he’s screaming in chinese to offend someone that is potentially ignorant to the language.
Song Qian snorts. “I thought we agreed not to speak Chinese when we’re alone,” she remembers. “To practice our Korean skills?”
“It’s bothering me,” he huffs.
She sighs, “Your hair is orange, of course you’re getting a lot of stares. People still find it peculiar.”
People still find it peculiar. Because he is different. Which is exactly what he intended for, to stand out from the rest. So he inhales and runs both hands through his hair. This is what he wants, this hair is what he wants, and it won’t stop here. There’s much more ahead.
✦
“Mom, I’m not joining a motorcycle club.” Yixing exhales for the upteempth time as his mother wails over the phone.
“Then why are you deciding that you want a change in life all of a sudden?” she cries. “Mei Ling’s son decided he wanted a change of life. Now he’s in prison!”
“Mei Ling’s son robbed a bank,” he reasons, fingers reaching up to ease his temples because there’s only so much he can take from his mom. “I guarantee I’m not on my way to become an unsuccessful criminal.”
His mom’s horrified gasp makes him roll his eyes. “Are you saying you intend to be more careful than Mei Ling’s son?”
“Ma… I don’t have any criminal intentions whatsoever.” he sighs. “I just can’t see myself selling any more paper in the future.”
“You don’t need a tattoo to get yourself another job!” she screeches. “In fact, the tattoo might make it difficult for anyone to hire you.”
Yixing focuses on the picture on his desk, in which his grandparents and his mother are trying to suffocate him in what they call a “bear hug”. Yixing has always thought of it as asphyxiation, although he has never complained. He felt safe in between them.
“Ma, this is the first time I’m actually doing things I want to.”
“You did what you wanted when youescaped to Seoul too,” her voice becomes a pitch higher and just a little bit annoying, like she always does when she wants to impersonate Yixing. “Pursue your life-long dreams. Didn’t realize you were talking about joining a motorcycle club.”
“For the last time, I’m not joining a motorcycle club!” he exclaims. “Or any secret cults and organizations! And I’m not going to be like Mei Ling’s son!”
His mother huffs, and Yixing just knows she’s rolling her eyes. “Fine, but don’t expect me to bring you mocha bread in prison.”
“Is grandma around anywhere ?” he decides to ignore his mother’s last retort.
“She went to pick some medicine for her flowers. They’re sick, although your grandfather thinks Ruki has been secretly eating them.”
Yixing snorts, “Sounds like something he would do.” He almost feels nostalgic, hearing his mother talk about their routine in Changsha, and their sweet all-it-can-eat rottweiler. He misses his life back in China, when rent wasn’t a concern and paper was just something he used to smash his crayons against. “I miss you guys.”
“We miss you too, honey. When are you finally visiting? It’s been six months since you last saw your grandparents.” his mom says.
“Maybe May? We have Buddha’s birthday and Children’s Day. That’ll be three days, I can come back home then.” he says while checking his calendar. He grabs a pen that’s lying around his desk and marks the date.
“That’s too far away!” his mom protests.
“It’s the closest date, to be honest.” he shrugs and flops onto the bed, his free arm pillowing his head.
His mother sighs, “If there’s nothing you can do.”
Yixing chuckles half-heartedly. “There isn’t. Stop being such a drama queen.”
“I have a reputation to uphold,” she says and laughs, loudly and wholly as always. “I have to go, your grandmother is here. Seems like she has caught Ruki in the act.”
“Go save him from her wrath.” he sits up and stares at the clock on top of his xbox. “It’s late, I have to go to work. Those papers won’t sell themselves.”
“Fine sweetie, bring home your bacon. I love you.” she says.
Yixing smiles, “I love you too.”
He can hear her scream of ’Mom, let go of the dog’ before hanging up.
{item n. 3}
Pairing: kris/lay
Rating: PG-13
Length: 43,278 words
Summary: Yixing has an eight-step list to change his life and the first thing is to get a tattoo. What’s not on the list, however, is the hot tattoo artist that comes along. (it's so much more than that, really)
{item n. 1}
2. Dye my hair
The cashier keeps glancing at them through the mirror as they explore the small drugstore in search for everything they need to dye Yixing’s hair. It’s delightful how eager his friends seem to be, although Yixing really thinks they’re just excited because there’s a chance he’ll look ridiculous with his new hair colour.
“We have everything!” Song Qian announces.
“Hey Yixing, how do you feel about green?” Jongdae bursts into giggles, but they instantly stop when his fiancée calls about furniture for their new home.
“Not good.” Yixing says to no one as Baekhyun and Song Qian rush over to the counter to pay. They’re being loud about something and Yixing doesn’t want to be associated with them, so he wanders away, checking out some tampons.
He’s thinking about buying a box just to make a useless purchase when someone approaches him. Someone he, unexpectedly, knows.
“I know you.” says a tall, brunette man wearing a hairband and a black sleeveless shirt showing off his tattooed arms and sporting a careful smile.
Yixing arches his eyebrows in surprise. “Yes, you do! Hi, Yifan right?”
The tattoo artist.
“That’s right.” Yifan pockets his hands. There’s something about the way his eyes linger that Yixing can’t quite pinpoint. “What are you up to?”
“I’m,” he points to his friends at the cashier. “Coloring my hair, so…”
Yifan furrows his eyebrows, and it’s sad how nice that looks. “Oh, right now? Isn’t it a little late for hairstyling?”
“Hey look, it’s the tattoo artist guy! Mr. Handsome!” Baekhyun screeches. Yixing closes his eyes slowly, wincing as he listens to his friends getting closer. “He made Yixing’s tattoo!”
“It’s Yifan.” he hears the man say. Yixing opens his eyes and takes in the way the trio hungrily stares at Yifan. Yixing just knows that if they’re not stopped a billion questions will be asked.
“So, what are you doing here?” he cuts in. Yifan’s eyes shift to him.
“Uh, nothing actually. I was heading home and I thought I saw you walking in, then…” he muses for a while, blinking as he does that thing with his eyes that Yixing can’t understand. “It really was you.”
There’s a short moment of silence that stretches between them as Song Qian’s soft humming fills the air, and Yixing tries to return that look. Although he doesn’t need to put in much effort.
“We’re going to dye his hair orange, wanna come?” Jongdae blurts out.
Yifan seems to think about it, cocking his head and looking at Yixing. And then he smiles. “Sure.”
Yifan is a very confusing man. He looks cute when he smiles, and then he narrows his eyes and his brows crease and he looks dangerous. Yixing doesn’t know which one he likes the best, but comes to treasure each. Right now he’s smiling as Baekhyun and Jongdae dance around the tiny space by Yixing’s bed, and his arms are leaned back, supporting his weight on the mattress. His arms are flexed and Yixing isn’t even paying attention to the conversation.
“So… Orange?” Yifan’s voice cuts through his mind and Yixing turns to face him.
“Why not red?”
“You think I’d look good in red?” he asks and Yifan chuckles, but doesn’t answer. “I guess it’s because I’ve always thought about dying my hair, but orange never crossed my mind. And that’s the whole point.”
Yifan frowns, “The whole point to what?”
“To his list!” says Baekhyun from where he wrestles something Yixing’d rather not to know what out of Jongdae’s hands. His words doesn’t seem to make sense to Yifan, who just keeps on frowning.
Yixing shakes his head, feeling the tips of his ears warming up under Yifan’s intent gaze. “All you need to know is that there is a list,” Yifan squints at him, eyebrows srunched together. “Of things I’m supposed to do.”
“Was the tattoo an item on this list?” the other asks.
“You’re quick!” Song Qian comes from the small area of Yixing’s kitchen with gloved hands and a tint brush, the ends smeared with orange. “Come on, we’re ready.”
Yixing follows her back to the kitchen where his plastic chair is already positioned with Song Qian looking dutiful next to it. Baekhyun and Jongdae forget whatever quarrel got them engaged and run after them. Yixing sits on the chair and spots Yifan leaning against his fridge, crossed arms and undecipherable little mouth tug on. It’s barely a smile, but it fits him. All kinds of smile fit Yifan, Yixing thinks.
“I’m starting. Bid your virgin little hair goodbye.” Song Qian announces and Jongdae giggles.
This is it. Yixing closes his eyes and feels his friend’s slim, manicured hands gently pulling his hair and soon enough, something cool touches his scalp. He winces as his friends holler. Yixing opens his eyes just in time to catch a full grin taking over Yifan’s face.
“You think this is funny?” Yixing inquires. Yifan shrugs.
“I think it’s cool.” he answers.
“Have you always wanted to be a tattoo artist?” Baekhyun asks out of nowhere. “Most people with cool, offbeat jobs have usually have a not-so-good experience with the boring occupations.”
“I’ve always wanted to be an artist.” Yifan answers. “Went to school for art and stuff.”
“And how did the studio happen? I mean, you could have turned out to be a regular street artist, painting dog portraits and begging people to buy your paintings.” Yixing teases, eliciting a smirk from the other.
“Zitao, my partner, he graduated and thought we could ink people for a living.” he says. “It’s been working so far.”
“Definitely,” Song Qian winds in as she tugs another strand of Yixing’s hair and brushes hair bleach all over it. “I love Yixing’s tattoo.”
“Tattoos are cool.” Jongdae says matter-of-factly.
Yifan’s eyebrows twitch, an almost frown, and Yixing bites on his lower lip. He’s cute. “Why don’t you have one?”
Jongdae widens his eyes and waves his hands. “My fiancée would kill me. Then she would go an extra mile and dump me.”
Baekhyun snorts, “Because she wants to kill you everyday, right? So that’s not really a big deal.”
“She puts up with a lot, the poor thing.” Song Qian sighs and Yifan laughs. He looks pretty comfortable amongst them, but still maintains his distance, watching from afar and only talking when addressed to. Yixing wonders if there will be opportunities in the future for him to change that.
Song Qian silently bleaches Yixing’s hair as the conversation takes a turn on Baekhyun and Jongdae trash-talking about Yixing’s living arrangements. Yixing knows she’s dying to say something and she would have usually barked indignantly by now, he doesn’t understand what’s holding her back.
“Aren’t you going to join them?” he asks her quietly when Baekhyun picks one of Yixing’s shoes by the shoelace and hurls it across the room. It lands with a smack on the opposite wall and Yixing is pretty sure there is shoeprint on his wall now.
She shrugs, “I’ve said enough already. But what really bothers me is how there is this cute guy in your apartment right now and yet you don’t feel the slightest bit embarrassed by the mess you live in.”
“The mess I live in is part of me. Whoever accepts me in their lives has to accept my lifestyle too.”
“You mean your shit thrown all over the place.”
Suddenly, Jongdae screams. He stares down at his phone in horror, mouth ajar and eyes so wide Yixing wouldn’t be surprised if they popped right out of its sockets there and then. Baekhyun approaches him quickly, hand touching his shoulder whilepeeking at the phone.
“What’s wrong?” Song Qian stops prodding at Yixing’s hair to look at Jongdae curiously. Yifan just stares at them all.
Yixing almost stands up from his seat when Baekhyun’s face shifts, his eyebrows arching up and mouth stretching into a smile. Jongdae remains horrified.
“Soojung is pregnant.” Baekhyun says, eyes lifting from Jongdae’s phone.
“What.” Jongdae utters.
“Are you sure?” Yixing questions, getting up from the chair and stepping closer to them.
“Yep, she just texted him ‘I’m pregnant xo’.” Baekhyun steals Jongdae’s phone and hands it over, Song Qian grabbing it quickly and passing it to Yixing after reading.
It really is a simple text saying ‘I’m pregnant, xo’.
“Oh my God, Jongdae,” Song Qian coos, moving to crush Jongdae into a hug, his immobile form being wrapped around her passively. “You’re going to be a father!”
If you asked Yixing a few years ago, he wouldn’t be able to imagine Jongdae as a father, but now he can see his friend with a family, a prankster-born girl like him and a control-freak boy like Soojung. It’s a beautiful vision. “Congrats, man.” he says, touching Jongdae’s head.
“I need to go home.” says Jongdae, suddenly coming back to life, rushing out of Song Qian’s hug and grabbing his bag from the floor. He looks as if he is bordering on the lines of insanity. “Talk to you guys later.” and leaves.
“Ok, I worry for the kid.” Baekhyun says not even a heartbeat after Jongdae leaves. “Jongdae’s cool, but you can’t compensate the struggle of spending nine months in Soojung’s womb? Only to come out in this world and live with her? As a mother? Can you imagine how much she’s going to make him, or her, suffer?”
“She’s going to be a great mother.” Song Qian says, grabbing Yixing by the arm and sitting him back on the chair.
Yixing’s gaze gravitates toward Yifan, who has a smile on his lips, as usual. He smiles back.
Once his hair is completely white and after Baekhyun has finished snapping pictures to share with their friends, Song Qian applies orange dye on Yixing’s hair, instructing him to wait thirty minutes for the dye to work. His two friends engage in Dead Rising 3 as Yixing sits on the kitchen floor with Yifan.
“So,” the tattoo artist says after a while in silence. “What’s the next item on your list?”
Yixing frowns, trying to recall the scribbles on his paper. “I don’t remember? I guess it’s the cat thing.”
“The cat thing?”
“Adopt one,” he explains. “Give a living creature a home.”
Yifan nods, blinking at Yixing. His eyes do that thing once more, and Yixing is starting to see a pattern. “I have a hamster named Toy, I know what you mean.”
“Toy?” Yixing laughs. “Care to explain?”
“Sure,” Yifan chuckles, shaking his head and Yixing watches as his hair flops around. “He looks like something that you can squish and play with. Thus the name.”
Yixing hums, eyes blinking at his feet, wondering if it’s ok if he gets a little too curious about certain aspects of Yifan’s life. Such as what else matters to him. “Is Toy your only companion?” he asks carefully, looking at Yifan from behind his lashes.
The other nods. “Just the two of us.”
“Where do you live?” he ventures.
“Mapo-gu,” Yifan answers easily. “Northwest of the river.”
Something tugs at Yixing’s stomach. Yifan lives in Mapo, which means he was almost home when Yixing and his friends decided to drag him along all the way to Gwanak, which is a 45 minutes ride.
He arches his eyebrows at Yifan, who just smiles knowingly. “You were really heading home, then.”
“I was, like, ten steps from home.” he laughs. “But that’s fine, I wasn’t tired. Besides, it’s funnier to watch your hair orange than to sit with Toy and watch reruns of Miami Ink.” Yifan reaches up to touch Yixing’s hair, his index finger coming out orange. He inspects it intently, eyebrows furrowed, and Yixing would squeak at how cute it is if he didn’t have any appreciation for what’s left of his dignity. So he just smiles, and Yifan’s smile widens.
✦
He can feel his coworkers’ eyes on him. In fact, he’s been feeling it the whole morning. And it’s not even their lunch break yet. One of the seniors passes by his cubicle and lets out a horrified gasp, God almighty take the wheel. Yixing rolls his eyes and folds another paper plane, adding it to his collection next to the inbox and hooking the phone from his last unsuccessful call. He’s been awfully distracted, not scoring any higher from his coworkers, some even stopping by his cubicle to steal his paper planes and call the numbers he had given up on. He’s pretty sure his name is ranking low on the Top Sellers list, and the interesting thing is that he can’t bring himself to give a single fuck.
When lunch break hits, Yixing drags Song Qian to eat out, not wanting to spend his most precious working hours with judgemental stares sent in his general direction. They find a nice place selling dumplings in Myeongdong with kalgooksoo and iced tea.
“The waitress is staring at me,” Yixing says loudly in Chinese. He’s not sure why he’s screaming in chinese to offend someone that is potentially ignorant to the language.
Song Qian snorts. “I thought we agreed not to speak Chinese when we’re alone,” she remembers. “To practice our Korean skills?”
“It’s bothering me,” he huffs.
She sighs, “Your hair is orange, of course you’re getting a lot of stares. People still find it peculiar.”
People still find it peculiar. Because he is different. Which is exactly what he intended for, to stand out from the rest. So he inhales and runs both hands through his hair. This is what he wants, this hair is what he wants, and it won’t stop here. There’s much more ahead.
✦
“Mom, I’m not joining a motorcycle club.” Yixing exhales for the upteempth time as his mother wails over the phone.
“Then why are you deciding that you want a change in life all of a sudden?” she cries. “Mei Ling’s son decided he wanted a change of life. Now he’s in prison!”
“Mei Ling’s son robbed a bank,” he reasons, fingers reaching up to ease his temples because there’s only so much he can take from his mom. “I guarantee I’m not on my way to become an unsuccessful criminal.”
His mom’s horrified gasp makes him roll his eyes. “Are you saying you intend to be more careful than Mei Ling’s son?”
“Ma… I don’t have any criminal intentions whatsoever.” he sighs. “I just can’t see myself selling any more paper in the future.”
“You don’t need a tattoo to get yourself another job!” she screeches. “In fact, the tattoo might make it difficult for anyone to hire you.”
Yixing focuses on the picture on his desk, in which his grandparents and his mother are trying to suffocate him in what they call a “bear hug”. Yixing has always thought of it as asphyxiation, although he has never complained. He felt safe in between them.
“Ma, this is the first time I’m actually doing things I want to.”
“You did what you wanted when youescaped to Seoul too,” her voice becomes a pitch higher and just a little bit annoying, like she always does when she wants to impersonate Yixing. “Pursue your life-long dreams. Didn’t realize you were talking about joining a motorcycle club.”
“For the last time, I’m not joining a motorcycle club!” he exclaims. “Or any secret cults and organizations! And I’m not going to be like Mei Ling’s son!”
His mother huffs, and Yixing just knows she’s rolling her eyes. “Fine, but don’t expect me to bring you mocha bread in prison.”
“Is grandma around anywhere ?” he decides to ignore his mother’s last retort.
“She went to pick some medicine for her flowers. They’re sick, although your grandfather thinks Ruki has been secretly eating them.”
Yixing snorts, “Sounds like something he would do.” He almost feels nostalgic, hearing his mother talk about their routine in Changsha, and their sweet all-it-can-eat rottweiler. He misses his life back in China, when rent wasn’t a concern and paper was just something he used to smash his crayons against. “I miss you guys.”
“We miss you too, honey. When are you finally visiting? It’s been six months since you last saw your grandparents.” his mom says.
“Maybe May? We have Buddha’s birthday and Children’s Day. That’ll be three days, I can come back home then.” he says while checking his calendar. He grabs a pen that’s lying around his desk and marks the date.
“That’s too far away!” his mom protests.
“It’s the closest date, to be honest.” he shrugs and flops onto the bed, his free arm pillowing his head.
His mother sighs, “If there’s nothing you can do.”
Yixing chuckles half-heartedly. “There isn’t. Stop being such a drama queen.”
“I have a reputation to uphold,” she says and laughs, loudly and wholly as always. “I have to go, your grandmother is here. Seems like she has caught Ruki in the act.”
“Go save him from her wrath.” he sits up and stares at the clock on top of his xbox. “It’s late, I have to go to work. Those papers won’t sell themselves.”
“Fine sweetie, bring home your bacon. I love you.” she says.
Yixing smiles, “I love you too.”
He can hear her scream of ’Mom, let go of the dog’ before hanging up.
{item n. 3}