To blatantly suppose that the water fiasco was long forgotten and swept under the rug would be the biggest lie I had fabricated and concocted out of thin ing air.

 

The small LED screen is tuned in to a random channel and a frigid reporter recites the news monotonously in Chinese. Sullen silence lingers in the expansive sedan and I reckon it could make a Grim Reaper feel welcomed. Occupying the farthest edge of the seat I put as much distance between Mr. Oh and I, as is humanly possible. The fight was still fresh in my memory and the awkwardness inescapable.

 

From time to time I peek at him, quietly gauging his changing temperament or any trace of the person who seemed to think caressing my hair was nice or remotely acceptable. Doing this had become my routine from the past few weeks such that I was accustomed enough to gaze without abandon while he made important phone calls and issued explicit instructions to his faithful minions.

 

The smooth planes of his chest glint past the undone buttons of his opulent, navy blue shirt at whose price tag I had keeled over. "Debts must be returned with interest Mr. Byun, let this be lesson for you" he had imparted while I wept tears of peasant blood upon seeing my hollow bank balance.

 

My mind drifts to what had occurred within the confines of Mr. Oh’s private suite and unconsciously my fingers nuzzled the base of my willowy throat, where the skin throbbed in reminiscence of the teasing encounter.

An ember had gradually begun to burn, whether it was my curiosity regarding Mr. Oh’s actions or the reaction it had provoked in me was something I couldn't ascertain. This was strange. I believed the typical emotions Mr. Oh was capable of stirring in me were intense dislike and weariness, not confusion or this segue from mild attraction to yearning for a second by second replay of that scene.

I struggle to accomplish the impossible- pretend that Mr. Oh hadn't been breathing in every inch of my personal space without recoiling in disgust or flashing his trademark scowl, that equaled to millions of his insults, only an hour ago. It is perturbing how transfixed I am by him, to the point where I was considering forgiveness for the absolutely asinine stunt he had pulled earlier.
 

“Mr. Byun I must confess, you can be extraordinarily slow witted and tactless. I do appreciate your interest in my torso but I doubt it deserves five minutes of your undivided attention” he observes solemnly and all the sirens inside my head wail in unison. I had a nagging feeling that someday my brain would shut down from the sheer embarrassment I would inadvertently expose myself to.

“Mr. Oh it is really surprising how a gentleman of your stature could be this delusional” I retort not reining the sarcasm.

“Lying is an art mastered by the seemingly naïve and the subtly cunning kind of humans. You are neither Mr. Byun and therefore not allowed to use it as your defense” he remarks and I am flailing for the simplest retaliation.

“Who do I remind you of Mr. Oh?” I blurt, settling for distraction instead of a clever response.

“Say Mr. Byun, have you found yourself wandering inside a Restricted Zone?” he wonders casually.

“No Mr. Oh, I haven’t” I admit baffled by the irrelevant question.

“And why haven't you Mr. Byun?” he repeats shifting his focus.

“Because it is prohibited to do so and I don’t know what is inside there” I state blindly missing the point he was clearly trying to convey.

“Exactly. Consider my position in your life as that restricted sign and the fact that you don’t know what is inside as your warning to avoid swimming in unfamiliar depths” he suggests, smiling serenely while exiting the vehicle. One could mistake it for cordiality when in truth it was the closest he would ever come to telling me to off.
 

“Your analogies ! ” I holler in the empty backseat and pursue his fading shadow.

 

The refusal and the torn expression that accompanied the rejection had peaked my curiosity. I couldn’t rest easy until I unraveled the mystery of the unknown person but for now I would have to devote myself to finishing this conference without fainting halfway. The nervousness had transformed into debilitating nausea and I was afraid of throwing up on Mr. Oh’s expensive shoes at any moment.

The security detail completely surrounds us and the team Mr. Oh had specifically formed for this project flanks us from both the sides. They deliver an elaborate status report of all the individuals present inside the hall and it is obvious that Mr. Oh has already selected the potential investors he would mercilessly captivate today.

Several doors open seamlessly and Mr. Oh is ushered in almost reverently. The enormous auditorium is much colder than the outside and I shudder when every gaze lands on the uniform legion that is Oh Enterprises. Thick silence envelops the seating area while Mr. Oh ascends the elevated podium and beckons me to follow the example by a slight flick of his wrist. Moving towards the corner of the stage I carry Mr. Oh’s MacBook and the necessary materials for the presentation. I practically blend into the wall in my attempt to remain obscure and inconspicuous.
 

“Good Morning Ladies and Gentleman, I hope your stay in Hong Kong has been pleasant so far. I am Oh Sehun, CEO of Oh Enterprises and am very pleased to have your invaluable support as I embark on this new journey. I can guarantee that some of you are going to leave this room many millions lighter” he addresses the crowd and the audience enjoys the humorous introduction. I suppose this was the equivalent of lunch money for people who were ranked among the top by respectable magazines like Forbes. As Bruno Mars would sing it, they were smiling next to Oprah and the Queen.

“We aren't complaining son” a booming encouragement resonates, eliciting a twinkle of amusement from Mr. Oh.

“Mr. Kim, I am not entirely sure Junmyeon would agree with you there. He has been constantly harking me about persuading you to sign over your shares in Empire” he comments prompting another uproarious bout of laughter.

 

“Nonsense, I transferred my shares willingly and with the full assurance that my son would be kept in line” he protests cheerfully and I briefly ponder their mutual relationship.

 

At this point it was hard to judge who was the elder of the two. Mr. Junmyeon is a marginally carefree soul in comparison to Mr. Oh but the success he had achieved since the inception of Empire was truly commendable. It is safe to conclude that he is one of the carefully chosen people to whom Mr. Oh paid heed to and that in itself, was exceptionally uncommon for someone who coldly shrugged off even the smallest measure of comfort or concern.

“It was my father’s dream to expand our reach to the country that gave him so much when he needed it the most. It unquestionably set the path for his success. He treasured and was treasured by China and his wonderful companions here. Although he left us before he could fulfill that vision, I have never forgotten it. And I hope today can mark the beginning of that unfulfilled ambition” he continues tone infinitely softer than expected.

This is the first time Mr. Oh has spoken about his late father publicly and the respect he has for him is evident in the cherishing vow to honor his aspiration. If the wistful expression is anything to go by, Mr. Oh missed his father terribly and a glance around the room proves he is not alone in that belief; the lasting impression of his statement has been felt similarly by every single person. Oh senior was a man worthy of utmost admiration and the hundreds of reputable businessmen standing in deference is a testament to that fact.

The presentation commences without further ado and proceeds positively. I ignore the fickle differences I shared with Mr. Oh and the fanciful flickers of transparency I had presumed to notice in his behavior prior to this. It would do no good to dwell on such wild notions and forget the purpose of my presence here.

Although the significance of the event is immense Mr. Oh conducts himself in an undaunted and self-assured manner. His speech is precise and emphasizes each of the key points faultlessly. The expertise and efficiency is so palpable that I am influenced to do my part in equal diligence. Surprisingly, I don't botch the whole affair and make a fool of myself but in hindsight that was mostly because of the fear of having to endure the consequences Mr. Oh would undoubtedly subject me to in case of failure. It had served as a more powerful motivator than my own will.
 

The meeting is a roaring success according to my prediction and there wasn't a moment to relax or slacken our efforts. It had been extremely intense from the beginning till the bloody end. The conference room was filled to the brim with the top dogs from distinguished and frighteningly prosperous companies. And the unshakeable faith Mr. Oh had in his competence allowed him to lead them in formation like he was the Grand Master in a game of chess. No amount of comparison between Mr. Oh and these wealthy tycoons could even their playing field. The instant he demonstrated his proposal they were on the bottom rung of the chain of command whereas he had thrived upon his throne.

 

To be honest I was mesmerized and overwhelmed by the authority he flawlessly exuded, introducing his pitch as if it was understood that every person in this chamber was under his thumb (which was entirely too accurate) and his confidence had incinerated them. His each affirmation carried immeasurable promise and struck a chord in them.

 

No one in their right mind could question his conviction or the impact it had and as soon as his speech ended the room had erupted in chaos; thundering applause echoing for a quarter of an hour until Mr. Oh himself had to entreat them to cease their appreciation.

 

He gracefully descends from the podium and I quickly gather the materials I had brought along to accompany him. The technician managing the projection system disconnects the MacBook from the multitude of wires and I thank him for the help.

 

The assistant bows persistently and I am burdened to return the gesture thereafter. Eventually I edge backwards to break the pattern and the heel of my brogues get tangled in the mass of lengthy cables.

 

Immediately, I am hurtling to the polished, hardwood floor and the world rushes by in a distorted blur, going alarmingly fast yet slow, almost suspended in shock.

 

My body twists and jerks while I fall, waiting for the impending pain from the tumble. For a full half-minute, my throat is so painfully constricted that I could hardly draw breath and I clenched my eyes shut, dreading the inevitable.

 

If only I was Michael Jackson, incarnate I could have played this off as an extension of the moon walk but unfortunately, fate had other plans in store and here I was, chasing another mountain of trauma that promised lingering effects since I was clutching Mr. Oh's prized laptop containing valuable information.

 

Then a new scary thought invades my consciousness-

 

 

I mean that was plausible when a fragile human being, insert Byun Baekhyun, took a nasty stumble from a 5 feet high platform wasn't it? I could very well suffer from irreparable brain damage, although I was dubious of how much damage, I could possibly cause to my already injured brain cells.

 

Suddenly, the wind dizzily whizzing past comes to stand still and I am firmly caged within a circle of fierce warmth. The adrenaline is pumping through my veins in sporadic bursts and my heart is hammering like the drums at a carnival. I cling onto whatever invisible favor I had been saved by and send silent prayers to the savior.

 

"Mr. Byun is this an unnecessary talent or an useless habit? You seem to be in my arms more often than not" the deep, baritone muses in hushed tones and my clammy skin flushes violently.

 

 

"Huh?" I balk, reeling from the near death experience. It was the fourth time I had initiated a circumstance that forced us in to close proximity and he was distracting. It was regrettable, but this close I could see all the flaws he did not possess.

 

Science needs to preserve these genes.

 

I am sure such blessed aesthetic proportions and physical attractiveness were incredibly rare.

 

Realizing the source of the fiery heat concentrated around my waist is from Mr. Oh's steely arms I abruptly straighten up. The movement is rushed and I wince while swaying momentarily but the hands encircling me don't budge an inch. It was as if he was expecting the clumsiness and ever so slightly tightens his hold.

 

"Young man are you okay?" interjects the concerned query and Mr. Oh slowly steadies me with his palm firmly pressed to the small of my back.

 

"Y-y-yes Sir I am fine" I assure the stranger and gape in horror at the the laptop lying abandoned near the chairs; noticing my fluster Mr. Oh orders one of the bodyguards to collect the shattered gadget.

 

"Have it sent to the Technical Department and check if they can retrieve the data" he instructs and the guard disappears with the cracked device. Dammit. That just earned me a lifetime subscription to Oh Sehun's blistering and ingenious insults.

 

"I'm sorry Mr. Oh I didn't mean to" I whisper, only for his hearing.

 

"We will discuss this later Mr. Byun" he dismisses my show of remorse and I nod feebly. I guess I should be treasuring the last moments of peace before hell broke loose.

 

"Sehun, I believe we are long overdue for lunch" Mr. Kim faintly chastises Mr. Oh, who actually appears troubled by the rebuke.

 

"I would be honored to Mr. Kim however, I'm afraid you have caught me in an inconvenient situation again. I apologize for declining but I have an early morning flight bound for Seoul tomorrow" Mr. Oh attempts to politely, pardon himself.

 

"Son, I swear to hold my liquor unlike last time and send you home earlier. I won't even mention the stories of my military service or the medals I was awarded" Mr. Kim winks and I have to disguise the gleeful smirk as an errant cough. It was obvious he was keen to make Mr. Oh submit to his request, if he was willing to forego the opportunity to gloat over his conquests and glory.

 

"Mr. Kim are you inclined towards Sushi or French Cuisine?" he finally caves in to the coercion.

 

"Caviar would be delectable in this weather" Mr. Kim claps, basking in his victory.

 

"Mr. Byun inform Rafael to make reservations at the Robuchon au Dôme" Mr. Oh directs and I take that as my cue to leave. I would call the snobby Beanpole and hail the first taxi to the hotel.

 

"Nonsense, you must bring your partner along, he seems rather helpless without you by his side" Mr. Kim chuckles staring mischievously and I am thoroughly baffled. Did I miss a joke?

 

"Mr. Kim I am certain you have a misunderstanding of some sort" Mr. Oh begins uncertainly.

 

"We are all adults here Sehun, you don't have to hide anything from me" Mr. Kim forcefully hushes him with a faint smirk.

 

"Mr. Kim it is honestly-" Mr. Oh tries his luck.

 

"Sehun there is nothing to worry about, my son will not hear a word of this. Now, enough of this dawdling around, I am starved" he announces and strides away victoriously.

 

"I am confused" I blurt, when Mr. Kim is in the distance.

 

"Daehyeon inform Rafael that we will be requiring reservations for three, at the Robuchon au Dôme" Mr. Oh reassigns my errand to one of his skittish minions.

 

"Why does Mr. Kim think that I am your business partner?" I question inquisitively.

 

"Mr. Byun wait for me in the car" he sighs and disappears completely.

 

I grumble and fuss and till the idling limousine and await Mr. Oh's arrival like I had been ordered to. Repeated knocks sound on the window pane and interrupt my marathon of complaining. I press the button in the protruding, handrest and openly glare at the intruder.

 

"Hey there cutie" Mr. Jung greets, leaning his elbows on the ledge by the lowered glass frame and I recoil backwards, anxious.

 

"Mr. Jung what are you doing here?" I demand almost accusingly and his thick eyebrows scrunch together, highlighting the indistinct scar embedded in his forehead.

 

"Baekhyun, in case you forgot we are colleagues" he reminds, excessively happy and I actually cringe at the casual use of my given name.

 

"Mr. Jung it may be the residual effects from when you invaded my personal space and latched onto my behind as if you were the Chimp that found a banana" I explain wryly.

 

"Did you insult me?" he muses

 

"Yes, God Yes. What are you going to do Mr. Jung?" I confirm snarkily.

 

"I like you Baekhyunnie" he grins, delighted.

 

"I don't" I deadpan.

 

"Pay no heed to what happened, despite your belief that my intentions were anything but pure I can assure you that my other friends are treated alike" he blabbers oblivious to my cynical brooding.

 

"You cannot possibly tell me that you grab all your friend's 's so suggestively" I scoff noisily.

 

Did he honestly take me for a fool? I could have guessed his improper motives from miles away; it was plain as a day and required no further justification, especially one as lousy as that.

 

"Indeed" he affirms, unruffled by the blatant verbal attack, which was less than gracious in my opinion.

 

"Then by the extension of that argument, if Mr. Oh were to appear before you, would you do the same to him?" I challenge discerning the silhouette of the said man from afar.

 

"Absolutely, I wouldn't hesitate. I have been babysitting Sehun since he was a snotty kid running around in his diapers crying wolf" he guffaws enjoying a private joke and I struggle to picture a younger version of Oh Sehun unaffected by the flinty, ferocious adult he was today.

 

"Are you sure that was Mr. Oh? Because try as I might I cannot imagine that. I feel like he skipped past the drooling, eating legos stage and jumped straight in to this sophisticated edition of himself" I imply frankly and he cackles, unrestrained.

 

"It is true that he is grouchier than any normal 19 year old but he has his reasons" he comments oddly contemplative.

 

"Yunho I do believe you were destined to work in the faxing department" Mr. Oh remarks, annoyed.

 

"Speak of the devil" he whistles impressed and swivels to meet Mr. Oh.

 

"Why are you harassing my secretary instead of accompanying Mr. Yanai to our new branch?" he grills.

 

"I was doing just that, then I remembered you would be too heartless to feed Baekhyun and came to fetch him" Mr. Jung alleges, winking sneakily and I downright ignore him. Either, he was being purposefully obtuse or he was rotten at reading between the lines.

 

"Mr. Byun should be the least of your concerns" he glowers.

 

"Sehunnie you have to treat your secretaries better otherwise they will end up going to weekly therapy sessions with all your ex girlfriends" Mr. Jung retorts and earns a withering glare from him.

 

"Yunho if you aren't gone in the next five seconds the hotel staff might find you lying unconscious in your suite after accidentally consuming a glass of super glue" Mr. Oh threatens genially and I wince.

 

"I cannot understand how insensitive you are, knowing full well how disturbing that experience was for me" Mr. Jung gasps offended and I wonder why it was such a touchy subject. Perhaps a scarring tale?

 

"You could have avoided it altogether, if you had heeded to my caution" Mr. Oh articulates sternly.

 

"How was I supposed to know that she would spike my drink when I was busy fending off my admirers?" Mr. Jung exclaims and I am aghast that someone would actually do that. What kind of psychopaths are roaming around?

 

"Enough, I am late for an appointment" Mr. Oh stifles his dramatic wailing.

 

"What about Baekhyun?" he boomerangs relentlessly.

 

"I will feed him" Mr. Oh snaps and signals the chauffeur to drive, deserting a sulking Mr. Jung on the lane.

 

There is an awkward calmness in the car and I fidget nervously. I was fairly clueless about our destination and the unknown roads stretching in unfamiliar directions were not reassuring.

 

"Mr. Oh where are we headed?" I ask hesitantly and my question is met with grating silence.

 

"Seatbelt" he responds at length and I give it a rest, fixing the safety strap in the slot. There was no point in aggravating him when his feathers were already ruffled, courtesy of Jung Yunho.

 

Arriving at the restaurant is done via the main lobby in the Grand Lisboa, walking past the hundreds of tourists, in true Macau style and large diamonds, huge bone carvings are on display. The Grand Lisboa, with its yellow, gold and silver paneled facade is beyond fascinating.

 

We enter the restaurant’s level, which is beneath the hotel’s dome and the sight of a shiny piano and exquisite chandelier greets us. The interior is just as ostentatious, grand and golden as the exterior.

 

Dessert, cheese, petit four carts are aligned next to the elevator as a sign of the indulgence that is to come and I relish it. It reminds me of the elegance of old hotels like the Raffles in Singapore where I had stayed with my father during the vintage automobiles exhibition he had organized.

 

The carpet is thick, plush and the glittering fixtures reflect the aggressive lights that never seem to stop in this city. We are guided to our table by the steward and the menus lie in wait along with an enthusiastic Mr. Kim.

 

"I am sorry for the delay Mr. Kim something unexpected came up" he apologizes, grimacing imperceptibly.

 

"Sehun please. Being a CEO means something will always require your attention" he accepts amiably.

 

"Thank you for inviting me as well Mr. Kim, I am Byun Baekhyun and it is an honor to lunch with you" I express sincerely even if I had no idea why I was invited at all.

 

"There is no need to be formal son. This is the first time our Sehun has openly dated anyone and I couldn't be happier. Although Junmyeon did tell me there was someone of interest he would like to introduce me to, I didn't think it would be Sehun's beau" he says glee creasing the corner of his bright eyes and the thin column of the sparkling crystal flute breaks in my rigid hands. Thankfully, the maître d' cleans the splinters before it causes any real damage except for the slashes on my ring and pinky finger. I dab the cuts using the starched and untameable napkin.

 

"My my, you are quite haphazard son" Mr. Kim chuckles and I turn scarlet.

 

 

"Mr. Byun why must you be so catastrophic?" Mr. Oh reproves and I am struck dumb. Was he not aware of what Mr. Kim had claimed or was he choosing to let it slide?

 

"What is happening?" I gesture inconspicuously and he regards me with polite disinterest. My head spins from the zillions of questions floating around it and I am ready to throw the silverware everywhere just to get a reaction from him.

 

This man was under the impression that Mr. Oh and I were dating. Dear Lord.

 

 

Is that why he had called me Mr. Oh's partner earlier?

 

I misread the context and assumed something else when Mr. Oh was trying to clear the confusion. And I certainly hadn't helped by moronically enjoying the discussion and allowing Mr. Kim to heckle him when Mr. Oh was attempting to rectify the mistake.

 

I had shot myself in the friggin foot!

 

"Mr. Kim I am sorry but-" I begin to contradict his speculation.

 

"You don't have to apologize for anything Baekhyun - may I call you Baekhyun?" he chimes in and I agree.

 

"As I was saying I know youngsters prefer to keep these matters private therefore I won't pry unreasonably" he reveals conspiringly and I am speechless.

 

"Shall we order?" Mr. Oh intervenes, signalling to the maître d' who materializes with a steward in tow.

 

"How may I serve you messieurs?" he beams brilliantly.

 

"We will have three Crustaces course and a bottle of the 1961 La Chappelle please" he lists off and the maître d' bows delightedly.

 

"The presentation was phenomenal Sehun and I am sure if your father were here today he would be extremely proud of you" Mr. Kim praises paternally.

 

"Thank you uncle but I will have to disagree" Mr. Oh replies ruefully and the smile doesn't stretch beyond a simple curve.

 

"You are too hard on yourself son" he scolds softly.

 

"I suppose we all have our ways of repenting" Mr. Oh answers and the melancholy in his voice is unmistakable.

 

"You lost them both too early son. I wish things had turned out differently but you cannot blame yourself. You couldn't have saved them. None of us could have" Mr. Kim consoles, despondently.

 

Both? I knew Mr. Oh's father had passed away in an accident but who was the other person?

 

"Uncle please don't worry yourself on my account. I have come to terms with it and moved on" he assures and the profound distress in that statement is something I have never witnessed.

 

All this while I have only witnessed the strong, indestructible facet of Mr. Oh's personality and yet here he was, admittedly vulnerable. It is shocking and I am possessed with an overwhelming urge to comfort him but it would not be welcomed or appreciated.

 

"I was afraid you had given up on the thought of finding love but I am glad that I am wrong" he gazes fondly at our intertwined hands and I blush crimson red. My impulse to relieve his pain had become transparent.

 

Withdrawing my palm, I quell the instinct to run as far as possible and opt to eat the food. Mr. Kim was adamant on ignoring anything we had to offer and I couldn't comprehend how he could have misunderstood. If I wasn't bickering with Mr. Oh then I was definitely plotting his murder, so from which angle could we have appeared like a couple

 

You don't mind, my subconscious comments nonchalantly.

 

True, dating Mr. Oh wasn't that bad.

 

WHAT?

 

No no no no it was bad and awful and unbearable!

 

Ugh I would probably be smothered alive under that gigantic ego.

 

"Mr. Byun is the food not to your liking?" Mr. Oh wonders after watching me push the caviar around the plate and I can't look him in the eyes.

 

"No! I mean yes! It is to my li-liking" I stammer and take a huge bite to discourage his suspicions. My mind was running amok and the decadent, refined taste was lost on me. The remainder of the lunch passes uneventfully and I speak only when I am spoken to.

 

Shrill rings disturb the flow of the conversation and Mr. Kim is summoned by his persuasive wife. He leaves securing the promise of another dinner and a kind compliment about enjoying my company. We follow suit and the chauffeur drives us to the hotel.

 

Tired from the strange lunch and the plethora of doubts it had created I drift off to a troubled slumber.

 

 

 

Please pick me up oppa, Is the sentence replaying incessantly and disrupting my nap.

 

It sounds awfully familiar and baffled, I search for the source. Rafael is flaunting Mr. Oh's IPhone and the video of me talking to Chanyeol plays.

 

"Sleeping beauty awakens" he mocks, seeing me stir awake.

 

"Why the hell do you have that?" I shriek making a beeline for the mobile to delete the embarrassing clip.

 

"That is none of your business Mr. Byun" he taunts holding it out of my reach and I jump relentlessly.

 

"Damn Beanpole" I huff and stomp away after kicking his shin.

 

"Chipmunk" he sneers immune to the pain. ing zombie.

 

"Mr. Oh! Mr. Oh! " I exclaim entering our suite.

 

"Indoor voice Mr. Byun, I am not deaf" he reprimands, exasperated before I had barely begun.

 

"Why does Rafael have that video of me?" I demand irritated as well.

 

"I don't know Mr. Byun, I entrusted the task of waking you to him" he sighs.

 

"But you didn't have to give him your phone" I rant.

 

"Then you shouldn't have fallen asleep during the working hours" he states simply.

 

"I did not! We were finished for the day and you didn't mention other work" I defend.

 

"If I haven't given you an assignment it doesn't automatically mean you can utilize that time to catch z's Mr. Byun" he notes indifferently.

 

"Fine I am sorry Mr. Oh but that still doesn't give you any right to show him that video" I assert forcefully.

 

"Right? That phone is my property and by that definition, everything else inside it" he maintains sternly.

 

"But that video was of me and you don't own me! Did you stop to consider that maybe I wouldn't want your damn handyman to look at it?" I lash out acutely aware of the rising octaves of my tone.

 

"Mr. Byun just because I tolerate your little outbursts doesn't mean that I appreciate them. Stop overstepping your boundaries and as far as it comes to owning you, I do. There are no take backs for those who sell their soul" he stresses menacingly.

 

Really?

 

How dare he use that against me after what happened?

 

"I am glad you brought that up Mr. Oh. You didn't particularly protest when Mr. Kim presumed we were dating and if that isn't the definition of overstepping your boundaries or being unprofessional then I don't know what is" I retort angrily.

 

"Mr. Byun I did object instantly unlike you and if memory serves right you didn't even understand what he was insinuating until we reached the restaurant" he replies scathingly and it hits the nail on the mark.

 

"I did but Mr. Kim wouldn't let me speak" I argue.

 

"Before you point fingers make sure your hands are clean Mr. Byun" he contends condescendingly.

 

"He was your acquaintance Mr. Oh not mine. If I were in your position I would have made more of an effort" I grit, offended.

 

"I am not beholden to you or anyone to offer an explanation. I do as I please Mr. Byun" he claims every bit the forbidding monster he was and I scoff.

 

Since it had been too inconvenient to argue with Mr. Kim he had used me to maintain the facade.

 

"By all means Mr. Oh, God knows no one can tell you what to do. Why don't you admit this is a vendetta against me rather than a chance of redemption while you're at it?" I retaliate and storm outside, unable to spend another second in the same room as that pompous bastard.

 

Does he have multiple personalities?

 

Who did he think he was? Jerking me about and then making me feel awful about that.

 

Did he think I was his marionette? That he could subject me to anything and I would accept it gratefully? Inconsiderate !

 

I hope he chokes on his damn pride.

 

Heedless, I brush the back of my palm against my face and catch the telltale signs of moisture.

 

.

 

 

CHANYEOL'S POV
 

The studio had long since become the haven where I sought peace and welcomed the serenity that undoubtedly emerged. My instruments are the channels through which I trumped everyday monotony and delved in the exhilaration of a simple melody that never ceased to be breathtaking.

 

This afternoon was no different. I had escaped to the welcoming confines of my workspace in the ruse of finding a lost snapback and had eventually laid on the large, suede couch amongst the various musical contraptions to immerse myself in Yiruma's piano rendition of River Flows in You.

 

One song I promised as I was meant to lend a helping hand in my mother's overcrowded yet flourishing restaurant. The usual staff member called in sick and she couldn't arrange for a replacement in the last minute.

 

Being the devoted and obedient son, I had happily volunteered my amateur services. I would probably ruin more plates than I could salvage and they would happily add another strike to my ever growing count of broken utensils. I was a repeat offender and couldn't deny the glaring truth.

 

Saturday's were according to time honored traditions solely reserved for soul appeasing music but today I would have to strike a bargain and settle for a single harmony.

 

The delicate and graceful notes resound beautifully, awakening the innermost corners of my heart. When I first heard the song I had zero intentions of bawling but there I was sobbing uncontrollably in the middle of the movie theater watching the Twilight saga when the track was played. In that moment I hadn't given a rat's about Edward Cullen and Bella's infamous love scene.

 

It was only the keys of the piano I had listened to and Yiruma himself did not croon a line but I was rendered to a state of rubbing my eyes to stop the never-ending flow of tears. It was the magical experience that pulled many different memories from me and even now as the moisture streaked I reveled in the music.

 

The sweeter tones remind me of a familiar face; the one that has been haunting me for the past few days, the same one that crumpled in disappointment, the very one that had colored in disbelief when I tried to downplay his feelings, the one that had been so angry and hurt as he walked away from me.

 

Although I understood what I had seen, I couldn't understand the why of it. Taeyong had needed me to realize something and that something had mattered a lot to him, if the resentment was anything to go by. And I couldn't.

 

In the two years I had known him there wasn't a single day when he hadn't patiently entertained my tireless chatter or when he hadn't treaded on my heels, cheerfully even if I was too busy to talk to him or when he hadn't glowed a little brighter than usual after I waited outside his class to buy him the ice cream I promised and to take him to the movie we had found interesting.

 

But now he is acting like he doesn't see me sulking near his locker hoping to talk to him, like how the number of classes I have been the substitute teacher for in his section haven't increased just so I have an excuse to force him to acknowledge me and like he doesn't walk the other way when he sees me.

 

He is avoiding me and he is doing a bloody great job of it.

 

This is unfair and I don't know what I had done to deserve the cold shoulder. I have always been the Sunbae who supported him no matter what and indulged all his troublesome behaviour. For Christ sakes I had let him drive my G65 whereas others weren't even allowed to touch the steering wheel of the Mercedes. So why is he treating me as if we are sworn enemies?

 

Does he hate me now?

 

The more I thought about this dilemma the more confused I became and ultimately ended up cursing my frustration.The phone vibrating on the table draws my frayed attention and I reach for it.

 

"Yah Park Chanyeol you piece of ! Didn't you promise that you would be here at 4pm sharp and it is already 4:10! Service is going to start in an hour and where the hell are you fooling around?" Jongdae screams over the bustling noise of the kitchen.

 

", I totally lost track of time! Sorry Dae I will be there soon" I apologize and hurry out of the studio.

 

Mercifully, the roads are clear of the weekend traffic and I reach my destination in 10 minutes. Swinging the door open I dash straight to the closet where my mom keeps a spare uniform and earn a glare from an impatient Jongdae.

 

Quickly, I wear the standard white shirt, black slacks and sweep my messy hair to the side. Satisfied with the semblance of a tidy appearance I join Jongdae in organizing the chairs and tables. Placing the reserved placards on those already booked, I turn the closed sign to open.

 

"Welcome to Viva Polo what can I get you tonight?" I receive the first customer, flashing them my best salesman smile.

 

"For now we will have one Chicken Marinara and one Chicken Florentine pasta but afterwards can we have your number?" the girl in the yellow dress giggles and I struggle to maintain the initial optimism.

 

 

"You really ought to learn how to say no Yeol" Jongdae scolds sternly.

 

"Or we can have a strictly no flirting policy?" I propose earnestly and he whacks me before returning to the dining area.

 

Passing the order receipts through the counter connected to the cooking quarters I wait for the expediter to plate the food and arrange it on a tray. There is a continuous stream of people and the crowd is brutal. 

 

Without a moment to rest we race back and forth carrying platters of aromatic dishes. By the time the clock strikes 9 p.m I am ready to drop dead from the sheer, bone crushing exhaustion. Constantly running around the place had drained all of my energy and I was sprawled lifeless on the floor when Jongdae flops down beside me.

 

"Dude how does your mom do this daily? She is literally prepping for tomorrow and I can barely stand straight" he groans massaging the painful cricks out of his tiny legs.

 

"Aside from the fact that she has years of experience under her belt I would guess it is mostly because she is superwoman" I answer stretching my sore muscles.

 

"Nonsense honey, I am just as active as anyone my age" she chides placing two, tall glasses of chocolate milkshake.

 

"Thank you mom" we chorus.

 

Jongdae, Baekhyun, Kyungsoo and I have been friends since we were pint sized toddlers. We spent a great deal of our days wreaking havoc together and it was inevitable that our parents became friends as well. And before we knew it there were weekly barbecue parties, Sunday brunches with so many kids running around shouting mom this, mom that, that we decided mom would be a common phrase for all.

 

"Yeol! Switch" Jongdae urges pushing his shoe clad foot to my ribs, after hearing my loud appreciation for the cold drink.

 

"What? Why?" I whine and watch him over the rim of my tumbler happy, that he had fallen for the petty trick.

 

It was no secret Jongdae adored chocolates more than Brad loved Angelina and if you were to search the wardrobes in his room you would definitely unearth heaps of candies, toffees, almond bars and infinite other kinds of confectionery anticipating to be devoured. He dropped by the restaurant every morning to get his fix of cocoa and my mom was extremely generous while preparing it. I knew without a doubt his drink would have more chocolate and plotted to exchange it sneakily.

 

"Because yours looks more delicious" he pouts.

 

"How is that possible? We literally got the same thing" I grumble.

 

"Shut up! Yours obviously has extra chocolate" he declares finally and trades our glasses.

 

"You are such an idiot" I chuckle.

 

"Says the guy who has been putting mustard sauce instead of mayonnaise in every dish" he snorts and I gape.

 

"What the hell? Seriously?" I yell trying to remember what I had been serving and sadly it was true.

 

" why didn't you stop me?" I crib, smacking my forehead.

 

"Excuse me I was busy tending to people and giving them their correct orders" he sasses, flipping me off.

 

"Did anyone complain about the service?" I worry, it could be a real loss.

 

"You should be grateful you were born with an attractive face, otherwise they would have demanded a refund" he scoffs.

 

"Nobody can resist all this fabulousness" I grin cockily and he rolls his eyes, unimpressed.

 

"Is there something you are hiding from me? You seem distracted" he probes and the curiosity is scarily palpable. It is impossible to escape his inquisition when he would probably badger me until I spilled the beans or subject me to a rigorous lie detector test.

 

"Taeyong and I fought" I murmur, suddenly interested in melting the cubes of ice in the empty pitcher.

 

"Yoda-ssi what have you done now?" he sighs.

 

"Why do you naturally assume that I did something wrong?" I cry, outraged that he thought I would purposefully antagonize another person.

 

"Because you are Park Dumb Chanyeol and also my dearest friend" he concludes, simpering proudly.

 

"Oh off" I groan, half heartedly.

 

"What happened Yeol?" he prods, the concerned confidant making an appearance.

 

"I wish someone would tell me Dae. Something unusual happened in the studio last Monday when he heard the new demo and I was shocked but before I could say anything he ran away from there. Baekhyun told me that he cried and when I finally got the chance to ask him what it was that upset him, he called me stupid. He said I don't get him Dae and the worst part is, it is true. I don't understand what he wants from me and he has been avoiding me like the ing plague" I wallow in bitterness.

 

"You can be surprisingly dense Yeol. Can't you recognize what is right in front of you?" he guffaws mockingly. So much for moral support.

 

"Like you are any better" I accuse and he coughs violently.

 

"What the are you on about?" he croaks, rattled by the loaded statement.

 

" please! You think I don't notice you drooling all over Minnie Hyung or how you come out of the shower with the post glow, when you are alone?" I proclaim, abandoning the disclaimers. He beats his chest vigorously and tries to breathe through the mortification of being caught, I imagine.

 

"When the have you seen that?" he wheezes, lashes dripping wet.

 

"Recently, when I was at your house hoping to you to your favorite band's concert. I was going to knock on the door but then you were moa-" Jongdae slaps his hand against my mouth forcefully and it stings.

 

"Don't say another godforsaken word if you value your miserable life" he threatens, head hanging low and I concede in pity.

 

"Jeez man you are insanely intense wherever Minnie Hyung is involved" I remark.

 

"Chanyeol" he warns sharply.

 

"Alright Alright. But preferably you should confess soon or that fairy kid will cast his spell and sweep him off his feet" I caution seriously.

 

"Who the heck is that?" he roars displeased because of the fresh bit of information.

 

"He works for Minnie Hyung and he is adorable" I divulge and he bites his stubby nails.

 

"But you are the cutest" I quickly reassure and he struggles to hide the amusement.

 

"Okay that is enough from you. I honestly think you should talk to Taeyong when you've both calmed down. You will be surprised by what you learn" he winks shabbily.

 

"Fine" I mumble.

 

After cleaning the clutter we close the restaurant and travel towards our respective houses. I stop for some butterscotch ice cream at the nearby häagen dazs outlet and to my utter astonishment Taeyong stumbles from the store.

 

Excited, I signal to grab his attention but the wave goes unnoticed when another guy leans in to his tilted face. I stiffen and my rigid arms hang limply, sudden coldness settling in my stomach. Losing the appetite for Gelato I start the engine and clench the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles turn disturbingly pale.

 

When morning rolls around I am surly and averse to the notion of attending classes. I almost surrender to the impulse of sulking in my fortress of pillows like I had done during the whole weekend but the assignment I had to submit ruins the plan. Mr. Wang would most definitely give me detention for the rest of the semester and I could not risk that.

 

Grudgingly, I prepare myself mentally and physically to step inside the classroom that was five feet ahead of me but it seems impossible. Unfortunately when the teacher spots me I am escorted unwillingly and lose the chance to escape.

 

Taeyong sat next to the window, glum and unsociable. It was a combined session for the juniors and the sophomores. I settle in to the desk farthest from him and try to concentrate on what is being taught. It proves to be futile when my mind keeps wandering back to what I had witnessed. Fuming, I kick the bench but it startles the person beside me and I regret losing control.

 

"For the upcoming assessment you will need to perform a contemporary piano and dance piece. The composition and choreography is according to your discretion. I will be available if you require my guidance or further clarifications regarding the commission. The passing grade is B- and above. If any of you fail to attain the necessary percentage you will be removed from the attendance list and reassigned. To make this easier you have been grouped suitably hence kindly review the college website for your allocated partners" Mr. Wang announces and exits the study hall.

 

Immediately, I open the tab and pray with all my might for it not to be him. When the page loads, I nearly shatter my phone and destroy the evidence of the entire predicament.

Student Name: Park Chanyeol
Subject: Advanced Composition
Partner: Lee Taeyong

"I will miss you Park" the guy alongside me interject, going in search of his companions. After what seems like an eternity the bench clangs as someone arrives and I don't have to turn to know who it is but I am dumbfounded that he made the first move. We don't acknowledge each other and stubbornly maintain the awkward silence.

 

"We should begin" he mutters and the obvious displeasure for being forced in to this situation is practically vicious. A full minute passes while I regard him and I conclude this would be awful for the both of us.

 

"Taeyong we don't have to, I am sure this makes you tremendously uncomfortable and I will convince Mr. Wang to assign us different partners" I state and walk in the direction of the staff room.

 

The second floor is desolate as the third years are currently in a camping site far from Seoul and soon there are heavy footsteps echoing loudly.

 

"Did I tell you I hated being your partner? Did I object to being paired with you? Why are you always deciding things by yourself without even asking how I feel?" Taeyong yells.

 

"Then talk to me" I exclaim tired of beating around the bush.

 

"No" he retorts adamantly and that refusal is the fuel to the fire.

 

The doubts that were bothering and nagging me transformed to pure, withering irritation. I grab his bony wrist and drag him into the deserted classroom, closing the latch behind. I had reached my limit due to the back and forth and had no intention of leaving deprived of the answers I sought. His body hits the wall painfully and I release him.

 

"Tell me what you want Taeyong" I enunciate each word.

 

"No" he snaps and attempts to unlock the shut entrance.

 

"For the love of God" I snarl and securely pin his wrists together.

 

"I want you to let go of me" he grunts, thrashing.

 

"No" I mimic his previous response.

 

"Why the hell won't you? I have nothing to say to you" he shrieks infuriated.

 

"Taeyong calm down. I just want to know what is upsetting you" I implore, patiently.

 

TAEYONG'S POV
 

 

"Why can't I be mad whenever I please whether there is a reason or not?" I huff and the pettiness unnerves me.

 

"So you do admit that you are furious because of me?" Sunbae gloats as if this was his victory.

 

"I don't care to talk about it" I repeat obstinately and that vexes him. Indignant, he scowls harshly and tightens the already excruciating grip on my wrists. That would bruise a wonderful shade of purple.

 

"First you confuse the out of me, then you run away from me and when I am genuinely concerned, you yell at me to your heart's content. For s sake tell me what you want from me Taeyong and I will give it to you" he asserts and I can see the restraint slipping.

 

Somehow the tables have turned and I am the evil person. No matter what happens Sunbae would never understand that I love him and hiding that was becoming harder than I ever imagined. I need to put an end to this once and for all. If he couldn't realize the truth after everything then the hope I am willfully protecting is pointless and agonizing.

 

"This" I confess, launching myself forward until our lips are slotted closely. It is a nervous brush and a timid sweep but it is enough to destroy me.

 

I am kissing him.

 

I am kissing Chanyeol Sunbae.

 

I had fantasized about this for ages but nothing could compare to the time-stopping and euphoric reality.

 

His full, pink mouth is lusciously inviting and in that moment the years of yearning threatens to burst forth in great waves and expose my true motive. Sunbae's fists have unconsciously weakened and if I weren't breaking apart I would have found it extremely comical.

 

"But I bet you haven't even thought of me that way. I will always be your damn hoobae and you will always be the oblivious-" I chuckle self deprecatingly and he cuts me off.

 

The next thing I realize Sunbae has slammed his warm lips to mine and practically knocks all the wind from my lungs. The squeal of shock is crushed in my straining wind pipe while he threw me against the writing board and I am so unprepared I latched onto his angular shoulders.

 

 

I moan lewdly when my hardening member grazes his chiseled stomach and hook my arms along his arched neck. I have to breathe but I am afraid that if I do I would awake from this beautiful dream. Ignoring my thundering heart's plea for oxygen, I reciprocated fervently and long for more.

 

We were bound so tightly that I could feel the rapid falling and rising of his strong chest. My hands roam unhindered, memorizing the flexing muscles and hardened biceps that would taunt me relentlessly.

 

ing, his grey shirt I explore Sunbae's sculpted torso that haunted me during the lonely nights when I had to satisfy my thirst, hungrily. He growled his approval and carried me to the sprawling, center desk, positioning me gently.

 

" Tae, you taste so ing sweet" he groans nibbling the skin beneath my bare jaw and I am driven insane. The reddened flesh would bloom in to visible hickeys tomorrow, reminding me of the person who had left these marks and I would ache for him just as much as I did now.

 

Sunbae's palms slide under my sweatshirt bunching it upwards until it lay discarded by the door. I shiver uncontrollably while our mouths chase each other unable to bear the scant distance. He draws soothing circles on the exposed surface of my body, leaving fire in his wake and I pant hopelessly.

 

He uses the opening to plunge into my mouth, owning and possessing the cavern in a way I never thought possible. Immediately, I am filled with the taste of cinnamon and something distinctly him. I savour it and dig the heels of my feet into his back drawing him nearer

 

"Sunbae" I moan when he bites my lower lip and releases it, connecting us with a thin trail of saliva. The sight in front of me is heaven; Sunbae's messy hair, heaving chest and his pupils blown wide in pleasure.

 

"Stunning" he whispers almost astounded and peppered kisses across my torso.

 

I curved into the touch when his tongue lapped over my s teasingly and grasped his hair. He sank his teeth over the peaked buds and blew cool air on them. I failed to suppress the pitchy scream and blush crimson when he smirked at the lusty reaction. He cupped my and slid his thumbs inside the waistband of my boxers.

 

"Sunbae stop" I stutter but he didn't and instead deepened the intoxicating kiss.

 

"Why?" he hums when I retreat to draw in a shaky breath.

 

"Because I can't think" I whine, caressing his auburn locks.

 

"That is the point" he grins, nipping my ear lobes and it is so distracting.

 

"Sunbae please I need to tell you something" I gasp, under his arousing touch.

 

"I am listening" he murmurs pecking my collar bones and I am dazed.

 

"Sunbae I like you" I blurt deciding to take the leap and that stalls him. His already wide eyes stretch further and I am wracked with worry.

 

"What?" he splutters and I wonder whether I made the right choice.