Blue Rose came on so naturally I came here lol. That song is like crack when it comes to my writing.

...

Yixing looped the small black apron around his waist, tying it behind him as he walked around his room. Today would be his first official day at the restaurant. And he was equal parts nervous and excited, if the small flips his stomach did were any indication. It would mean less time at the facility with Zitao, however, which had been his only misgiving about getting the job in the first place. He treasured his time with the smaller male. And he knew Zitao would miss them both terribly.

"Going to work?" Yixing twisted so he was facing Yifan. He sealed his lips on his cousin's gaunt appearance, taking in the hollow cheeks and sunken eyes and wiry frame. He knew Yifan hadn't been eating properly or taking care if himself much, but he hadn't known to what extent until now. He tisked and marched up to his cousin, adjusting his tie.

"Remember, you're no use to Tao if you can't even stand," Yixing reprimanded gently. Yifan's face morphed into a look that was hard to decipher. Yixing stepped back, holding the older male's gaze for an uncomfortably long time. "If you care about him so much, make sure you're well enough to see him." Without another word, Yifan whirled around and stormed out of the kitchen. Yixing sighed, raking his fingers through his too long hair. He worried about Yifan. More than he probably should have.

He worried Yifan would let himself waste away to absolutely nothing, until he was so frail that he could hardly move. He worried that Yifan's mental state would devolve into nothingness until he couldn't physically function anymore. He worried that one day he would come home to... Anything less than desirable. Tao needed strong, stable figures in his life. And Yifan needed a reason to be that strong, stable figure. Without Tao here, he was like a boat sent to sea with no crew, left to its own devices, lost and wandering as the waves rocking and swept it away.

Those thoughts nestled in Yixing's brain and kept him company on the cab ride to the restaurant. Taunting him. Mocking him. Tearing and ripping at his own sanity. Yixing grew up with strong upbringings. Stable, loving support. He trusted his own abilities. But he had no idea how to be a driving force to two outside bodies. Attempting to comfort two people standing so close to opposite edges and Yixing had to run between them or risk losing one to the abyss below. He would have to call his parents and vent. He didn't know how to handle all of this.

"Zhang Yixing." He bowed as he was greeted at the door by the owner. Yixing glanced around. A fairly unimpressive interior. Beige walls with a white ceiling to open it up. A few crud paintings hanging crookedly around them. Tables and chairs looking like they'd been bought on a discount sale. Yixing subtly wrinkled his nose, turning back to the owner, a lean man more limb than body. Kang WooSuk. Yixing pinned him somewhere in his early to mid forties. "Thank you for starting on such short notice," WooSuk continued, bowing back.

"Of course," Yixing said breezily, following the man back to the kitchen. If the dining hall was less than impressive, the kitchen was downright pitiful. Small and cramped, with what appeared to be outdated appliances. Yixing pursed his lips, peering around like more kitchen would appear out of thin air. WooSuk left him to his own devices now, and Yixing closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He rolled his shoulders and steeled his nerves, marching to the sink and washing his hands.

This is just temporary, he reminded himself. It's just for a paycheck. Do it for Yifan and Zitao.

He set to work quickly and quietly after that, putting his culinary expertise to good use. Simple dishes to start out. Black bean noodles were dishes he could make in his sleep. Bimbap also came easy to him for some reason. He hummed as he worked, delicious smells soon filling the tiny space. Sauces and spices and sweets. It reminded Yixing a lot of growing up on the outskirts of Beijing, whipping up dishes in his family kitchen.

Yixing delivered some of his meals to the patrons who wandered in from time to time. Business was slow, even at lunchtime. Though on patron, dressed in a soft grey suit, caught Yixing's eye. He set a laptop up on the table in front of him, slouching in his seat like he was right at home. Yixing hummed thoughtfully to himself as he ladled some noodles into a bowl to be delivered out to the waiting people.

The man in the suit barely crossed Yixing's mind after that, until he caught sight of him still seated in the same place a few hours later, a glass of water and a half full plate of food taking up one half of the table. He frowned at his laptop, his eyebrows furrowed. Yixing watched carefully from the kitchen. Watched the way he lifted the glass to his mouth and set it down again. Watched his fingers glide over the keyboard. He was so eerily familiar, yet Yixing couldn't put his finger on why.

"Don't stare." Yixing let out a strangled yelp, spinning until he came face to face with WooSuk again. The older man put a finger to his lips, vaguely gesturing to the dining room beyond. "That's Park Baekhyun," WooSuk hissed. "He comes here every Thursday and works for awhile. I don't know why."

"Baekhyun..." Yixing murmured, testing the name out. Park Baekhyun. Oh. Yifan's friend from school. Chanyeol's husband. Yixing turned his attention back to his food, his mind reeling. He really wanted to march up the man in the suit and grab him by the jacket and shake him senseless, even though they'd never met. He wanted to scream at him that he should go see his friend in therapy. It was one thing to be dumped into a strange situation you had no control over. It was another entirely to do it all alone.

...

Junmyeon licked his lips, his eyes darting around the room full to the brim of people "just like him." He dug his fingers into the plastic beneath him, driven to madness and comforted by the action all at once. Jongin arrived before most of them today, his Java Hut take out cup on the floor beneath the chair legs, his clipboard balanced on his knee. Junmyeon's gaze flicked to him next, assessing him.

"Everyone." Jongin's calm voice sliced easily through the thinning conversations. A hush settled over everyone as they took their places around the ragged circle. "Let's get things started, shall we." Murmuring from the crowd. "I will begin this meeting much like I begin every meeting. I'm Kim Jongin. I lost my life to alcohol for several years. A promising athlete with a future ahead of me. Threw it all away for burning sensations and red solo cups. I have been three years sober this past month." Even though Junmyeon heard it all, it didn't stop the pang in his heart hearing it all over again. "It's great to see you all," Jongin added, his serious eyes roaming the circle. "It means someone in your life cares about you, even if it's just yourself." He settled back against his plastic seat, drawing his cup from the floor and taking a long draft from it. "Anyone willing to share?"

"I will." Several pairs of eyes swung Junmyeon's way. His posture relaxed ever so slightly. Telling his tale helped remind him of why he was here. "I'm Kim Junmyeon. I'm twenty-five. And I've experienced the worst five years of my life so far. I married straight out of highschool to someone I thought I would love beyond all measure. It seriously felt like out of nowhere that changed and my happy dream turned into the worst kind of nightmare. I hated the sight of her. She hated me just as much. We fought. Things broke. I never laid a hand on her, but I needed some kind of outlet or I was going to burst. So I would go drinking with the guys a couple nights a week and vent. Drinking at the bar rapidly turned into drinks at home too. A couple days turned into every day.

Soon I couldn't figure out how to be anybody but a guy with a bottle in my hands. My solace was at the bottom of the glass, right? Ha. The only thing it every brought me was closer to some invisible edge. I was homeless and house hopping. Skipped between jobs because I could never hold one for long enough to make anything of myself. Finally my friends dragged me here because they couldn't stand to see me waste away in the streets to a quarter of the man I once was."

Silence.

"Thank you Junmyeon." Junmyeon swiveled when Jongin's voice once again cut through the quiet. He jotted occasionally in his clipboard, taking slow sips from his cup. Junmyeon met Jongin's gaze for the briefest of moments before he turned away, fixing on a point on the wall behind Jongin's head. "Stories like that are very commonplace here. We're very lucky here, actually. Here is safe and welcoming. The real world isn't always. Some people get reckless. Some get so numb to their surroundings they barely function. A lot of people do dumb shit and die. But here, we are loved. And together, we can heal." Jongin glanced around, though right now it seemed everyone had a hard time meeting his gaze. "I want to do something a bit different today," Jongin continued after a pregnant pause. "I want us to break off into smaller groups of three or four. Talk to the people you've clumped together with. And after that we'll do some activities."

"Alright Jongin," someone called, and that galvanized everyone into action. The sounds if chairs scraping the floor filled the air as they rearranged the ragged circle into several smaller clumps. Mostly people seemed to pick those closest to them. Junmyeon got Jongdae (who silently sat and observed most of the time), a woman with short hair who wouldn't look them in the eye, and another man who seemed to know Jongdae, as he pressed close to him, their knees touching. Junmyeon observed the fond tick of Jongdae's lips. The way he splayed his fingers along the other man's thigh. The relaxed slump of his shoulders as the quietly conversed.

"Guys," Jongdae suddenly spoke. Junmyeon and the woman snapped to attention. "This is Minseok. We knew each other in high school and through a little of university." Soft hellos exchanged, and Minseok turned an adoring eye to Jongdae. Junmyeon hid his smile. "And my boyfriend now," Jongdae admitted softly, eyes lighting in wonder.

"Awesome," Junmyeon mumbled, because what could he really say to that. He envied that just as much as he envied Chanyeol and Baekhyun, even if he was incredibly happy for them and wanted the best for them. He wanted a love that came easy and infinite. One he didn't have to lose himself too. One that was thrown back at him as much as it was given. Even in high school, he worked for it tenfold. It never felt like he received the same amount he spent. He envied the look in Minseok's eyes and the way he smiled at Jongdae, like he was the most precious thing in the world. He wanted that. So bad.

"Everything going okay over here?" Jongin swung around to them next, his clipboard dangling from a cord around his neck. He idly nibbled the cap of his pen as he walked.

"Yes Jongin," Jongdae assured. "Going fantastically, actually. You haven't met Minseok yet, have you?" Jongin shook his head. "Boyfriend," Jongdae said simply, but his eyes betrayed his genuine happiness once again. Jongin smiled, patting his shoulder and moving off to assess another group.

"You're too much," Minseok declared, but his smile could hang the stars in the sky. Junmyeon glanced away, watching some insect crawl its way up the wall opposite them. He wanted someone to look at him that way, even once in his life. He never got that look. No one seemed to think he was worth anything, let alone love. What he wouldn't give to have someone look at him like the world stopped in its tracks and all that mattered was the two of them.

He would gladly give away everything he had to finally feel like he belonged.

...

Hey, it didn't take me half a year this time. Did new headphones help? Maybe? I got some, and my music is on in the background as always.

What probably actually helped was the weather got nicer and I could sit outside again. I do my best work in my swing.