Liu Yangyang had a lot of bad habits.

His little white lies, which grew bigger and stronger, every time he got away with one. The burning cigarette that would sit in between his lips, time after time after announcing he was going to quit. And last, but not least, his constant need for attention and flirting with strangers, while Hendery was waiting for him at home.

He was a true wolf in sheep's clothing. A wicked boy, disguised with a beautiful smile and big starry eyes—breaking hearts wherever he went.

Yangyang was an equal amount of fascination and temptation, but to someone like Hendery, who had yet to experience what love could be, he was poisonous.

He was a hurricane, made of passionate love and violent tears, of sweet promises and broken hearts. Such a beautiful disaster would unfortunately always claim its casualties.

In between his lies, between the fights and nights filled with tears, he could be as affectionate as he could be mean. He'd take a day off work, to stay at home when Hendery was sick, and there would always be green-tea ice cream in the freezer, because he knew it was Hendery's favorite.

Yangyang loved planning cute couple things, like picnics and museum dates, and he left endearing post-it notes on the refrigerator, for Hendery to read when he came home from work.

It was in those moments Hendery let himself foolishly believe that he was enough.

But Yangyang was like the wind, and Hendery had chased after him, only to feel him slip right through his fingers each time.

Sweet kisses would turn into hateful words, and the hand he used to hold would clench around the door handle, with the threat of leaving him all together. Then, Yangyang would suddenly turn around, cling onto him, holding him in an embrace that seemed nearly desperate, and they would make up again before the sun rose outside the windows.

It was the same story, over and over, and although Hendery knew every word to every line, he still didn't know how to change it. How to write a new chapter, one where they would be truly happy together. The pen was in his hand, but he was unable to use it.

Because when things were good between them, they were really good—until they weren't.

The storm might have settled, but dark clouds were always luring in the distance, and wild thunder would be the last warning before lightning ripped the sky open.

Yangyang had been cheating on him again, only to come back with tearful eyes and lies disguised as apologies. And he would make up excuses that it was Hendery's own fault, for not giving him what he wanted. For not being dominant enough, for always being too sweet and gentle.

"It's called gaslighting," Kun had told him, more than once, but Hendery didn't want to believe it—although he deep down knew that it was the truth.

Now, alone with the memories they separately share, Hendery tends to forget about the bad things—and all he remembers is the way Yangyang used to make him smile.

It is in moments like these; dangerous moments where beautiful memories flash before his eyes, that Hendery still misses being swept away by the hurricane that is Liu Yangyang.

"You must be crazy..." Phone squeezed in his hand, the screen lights up under trembling fingers. Hendery clears his throat, a deep breath as he stares at the business card in his other hand. It is a business card, right? No name, just a phone number.

Hendery rolls his eyes at himself, what's with the overthinking? Just dial the number, he thinks, make the booking, get it over with.

"Oh my God, what am I doing..." Eyes darting back and forth, fingers tapping the numbers from the card onto the screen.

The small card has been burning a hole in the inner-pocket of his brown overshirt since the day it was stuffed into his hand. For more than two weeks the card has been hidden there, scaring Hendery to death when he as much as thought about taking it out.

The dial tone echoes in his ears, like it becomes louder by the second.

Make the booking. Just make the booking.

It is as childish as it is fucked up, Hendery knows that. He rubbed a fake-boyfriend in Yangyang's face, and Hendery of all people should know that Liu Yangyang does not take such things lightly. If there has ever been any certainty in this world, it will be that Yangyang will do everything and anything to make Hendery feel like shit, if they ever meet again.

Which they will. In two days. At Sicheng's gallery opening.

"It's okay, it will be okay..." he whispers to himself—his voice so quiet it vanishes between the pounding of his heart.

Hendery just needs to face his ex again, to play the part where he pretends to be over the break up, as easily as Yangyang. But with the phone clenched in his clammy hand, Hendery can only curse himself out. Yangyang still has a way too big impact on him, still, after all this time causing him to do foolish and desperate things.

A click, Hendery flinches—the call is answered.

"Xiaojun? Hi, it's me... Hendery... The wrong Mr. Huang."

"What are you doing? What the fuck are you doing?" Mumbling over and over, his voice drowns in warm summer air and the sweat at the back of his neck is caused by different kinds of reasons.

Walking up the stairs from the subway, dragged out steps like in slow motion, crammed in the stream of other people going up as well—every thought in his head is as suffocating as the thick air around him. Hendery is going insane, he must be, there cannot be any other explanation.

Subconsciously he pats the right side of his chest, right where the inner-pocket of his overshirt is. Everything is still there, good. He exhales slowly, spins halfway around as he reaches the streets above. He knows the way, but suddenly everything seems so unfamiliar.

Stumbling down the street, burning up from the inside, everything is blurry around him. People turn into shapeless shadows, every noise from the city is a simple buzzing in his ears. Until.

"You're late," an airy laugh, blonde hair is shining under the late afternoon sun.

"I-I know, I'm sorry-"

Words swallow themselves, Hendery stares for a moment too long—from sharp eyes under thick brows, down the exposed skin revealed under a black shirt. Upper buttons left open, Hendery swallows, hard. Shirt tucked into black pants, simple but stunning—a compliment balances on the tip of Hendery's tongue, but he isn't sure if it would be appropriate or not. In fact, he isn't sure of anything anymore.

"Don't apologize," the tone in Xiaojun's voice changes, deeper but warmer. He leans in closer—close enough for Hendery to inhale the sweet scent hanging around him. "Remember, you're the one in charge here."

"Right.. Yeah... O-okay..." Another hard swallow, Hendery nods—possibly a few times too many, definitely too eagerly. God, Xiaojun must think he's such a dork.

Nervously, he fumbles as he yanks out an envelope from his inner-pocket. No eye-contact when handing it over. Staring at his feet, Hendery waits while Xiaojun quickly counts the money.

A brow raised, Xiaojun scoffs as he closes the envelope—it makes shivers run down Hendery's back. Did he do something wrong? Fuck, he shouldn't have worn a white shirt, if he continues sweating like this it will definitely show.

"I recall you saying over the phone that you didn't want any-" A wiggle of his brow, Xiaojun chuckles.

"What? No, I-I don't... I just... The fees you sent me, confused me," he mutters.

"I can tell. Well. Let's just say we're in no rush then. You have me all night. For whatever you'd like to do."

With red ears Hendery follows Xiaojun down the street. He did say over the phone that he only wanted to make a booking for a fake boyfriend. No funny business. Definitely not.

The walk to the gallery takes less than ten minutes, but when neither speaks at all it feels way longer. Every step seems to lead to nowhere, Hendery feels stuck in place even when he is moving. Throat closing up, dry and leaving him with ragged breaths—when he finally announces they've arrived at their destination, he can barely even hear his own voice.

But then, he feels a hand slide down along his own. Hendery flinches and he looks up—straight into Xiaojun's eyes. A strange sense of calm washes over him, gently like the way locks of blonde hair sways over the sunset eyes looking back at him. A deep breath, Hendery lets Xiaojun's fingers slip between his own, holding onto his hand. Tightly.

"You actually came!" It is Yuqi, shrieking with excitement the moment Hendery steps through the door. Her voice echoes through the room, making a few of the other guests turn to look at her in surprise. She is always loud, just like her outfits.

Tonight, she's wearing a magenta dress with ruffles all over—cinched by the waist by a bright orange belt, and green fishnet stockings underneath. Hendery can already hear the usual backhanded compliment from Sicheng: "I love your outfit. It's like an art project gone wrong, but make it fashion."

Speaking of Sicheng, he definitely found the perfect spot for his gallery. Located in a hip area filled with cafés, ceramic shops, vintage stores and the likes. It might not look too impressive from the outside, but once stepping inside Hendery felt both surprised and impressed. Tall, white walls showcasing the current artwork—starting with some abstract paintings, which Hendery doesn't quite understand the message of. Three separate rooms which all seem to go on forever. Beautiful wooden floors and bright spotlights lighting up the place.

"Well, well, well! And who is this?" Yuqi's eyes are sparkling, when she so very obviously stares directly into Xiaojun's face.

"Oh this is... My date... Xiaojun."

"Your... Date ?"

Yuqi's brows furrow down, the great disappointment of missing out on the memo that Hendery would be bringing someone is written with thick strokes across her face. Hendery might be revoked from the best friend card for a while. Shit, why didn't Hendery think about the mess this would make in his friend circle? Fuck, fuck, fuck .

Big eyes squint, lips pulled into a thin line—Yuqi looks back and forth between Hendery and Xiaojun for what seems like an eternity. Hendery is suffocating in his white collared shirt, but luckily he is with someone more experienced—in more ways than one.

Xiaojun politely introduces himself, all charming smile and warm laughter—and he effortlessly starts a conversation with Yuqi. One that seems so natural that Hendery wonders why Xiaojun hasn't become and actor instead.

"Hendery!" A voice coming from behind causes all of them to turn their heads.

It's been a while, but Dong Sicheng is someone you'd recognize anywhere—and it's no wonder so many model agencies have tried to recruit him over the years. Almost 6 ft. tall, a well-proportioned body and a distinctive face that never seems to age—Sicheng looks exactly how Hendery remembers him.

"Sicheng," Hendery smiles, and for once he feels a genuineness behind that particular facial expression. A tight hug, Sicheng gives him an extra squeeze before letting go.

"Oh, and you brought someone with you?" Sicheng sounds as surprised and intrigued as Yuqi, when his attention suddenly shifts to Xiaojun standing next to Hendery.

Despite the natural interactions between his friends and his hired date, Hendery can't shake the nagging feeling that keeps creeping at the back of his neck. How will he explain this to all of his friends, when it's all over? Maybe he can go with the simple excuse that they simply weren't the match after all. It would be easy, not to mention believable—Hendery learns, when Sicheng shows them to the bar set up for the night's event.

"Finally back on the dating market," Sicheng whispers to him with a chuckle. "And this is who you find? He's way out of your league! I mean, he's almost like me -handsome. What did you do to bring him here? Pay him?"

And while Sicheng says the last part with a joking grin and Hendery laughs along with him, a nervous knot forms in his stomach. If Sicheng knew the truth he would surely judge him. Hendery definitely does so himself.

Welcome drink in hand, Yuqi quickly steals Xiaojun away for a moment—simply too excited to the guy who was able to break Hendery out from his break-up slump.

"Well. I assume you brought a date here for one very specific reason?" Sicheng suddenly says, eyeing Hendery while taking a slow sip of his drink.

"I- Well..."

"I mean, I haven't heard of you dating anyone since..." Sicheng added. "And you also declined the last couple of times I asked you to hang out, when you heard that he was coming."

"I know. I'm sorry," Hendery mumbles as guilt blends with the taste of white wine, but Sicheng quickly sends him a comforting smile while nudging his elbow. Sicheng might have his moments where he acts like a pretentious douche, but he still has a kind and caring heart.

Except for when he rats Hendery out to Johnny Suh, but Hendery decides he'll let it slide. This time.

"It's fine, I understand," he smiles at Hendery. "I'm happy to see you finally moving on. And I guess I don't have to warn you about who is coming tonight then."

A nod with a strained smile added, clammy hands clench around the glass of wine. The conversation goes on, flows as easily as it always has. The two friends catch up with each other while walking around the gallery, and now and then Sicheng throws in a small fact about one of the paintings and the artist behind it.

Hendery listens, nods when it seems appropriate. There's soft tunes playing from the speakers and the low buzzing of people talking. It is all so very lovely. Sicheng makes sure Hendery's glass stays full, despite his effort of trying to empty it. It does help with his nerves though. Xiaojun is still occupied with Yuqi dragging him around, but whenever his eyes meet Hendery's, there's a warm smile lighting up on his face—one that does all those things to Hendery that he knows will be too dangerous diving into.

But just as Hendery finds a moment of calm, sipping his wine and walking around alone for a moment, his heart stops.

Coming in through the entrance, ruffling his pastel purple hair, searching the room with his big eyes—looking as breathtaking as he always has.

Yangyang.

And he is alone.

The glass slowly slips from between Hendery's lips and his mouth turns dry in an instant. When eyes meet, Hendery is about to fall, like so many times before. Heart pounding in his chest, head spinning. Too much wine, definitely. Then, Yangyang smiles. Hesitantly, or so it seems. Strained. Hurt. And Hendery is hurting too.

Suddenly, a comforting touch stroke along his shoulder—Xiaojun links their arms together as he pulls Hendery's attention away from his ex. Hendery turns his head, dives directly into the sunset next to him. It only lasts for a few seconds, but when Hendery looks back at the entrance, Yangyang is gone.

"You're too tense." A gentle whisper tickles at Hendery's ear and Xiaojun nudges their shoulders against each other. "I know, I saw who arrived. But if you keep looking like you've seen a ghost, all of this will be for nothing."

Hendery nods but his eyes do steal a look around the room. Deep breaths seem to do nothing and the glass in his hand is emptied for the first time. He has always been a bit of a weak drinker, but maybe one more wouldn't be too bad—although everything seems a little blurry already.

"No," Xiaojun suddenly says, yanking Hendery's arm. "I think you've had enough to drink for now."

"What? I-" Turning to stand face to face, dragging his eyes away from the bar in the corner, Hendery looks surprised at the apparent mind-reading. "I didn't say anything..."

"You didn't have to." The chuckle that follows, leaves Xiaojun's voice lingering in Hendery's ears, like a gentle melody. "You know, you have a very expressive face. Like, your eyes are very easy to read."

"Hm..."

As they walk arm in arm, Hendery wonders if Xiaojun is right. Sure, he has big doe-like eyes, but he's never heard anyone say how they make him easy to read. Or, maybe Xiaojun was just bullshitting to distract him.

Another drink would be nice though, Hendery feels like he's coming too much to his senses as time passes—like he is becoming too aware of himself and his surroundings.

They stop in front of a painting twice the height of Hendery. A simple black frame, beautiful strokes of dainty colors—but Hendery finds himself more drawn towards looking at the person next to him.

"You look stunning tonight." Hendery's eyes widen up at the sound of a voice complimenting Xiaojun. At his own voice. He has held the compliment in for more than two hours now, and the drinks must still be too dominant in his body, creating the courage he was unable to find earlier.

"Thank you," Xiaojun replies, angling his head to look at Hendery's stunned face. "You look quite handsome yourself."

While Xiaojun must be used to compliments, Hendery is not. It's been so long since he last got one, he can't even remember when—just like he can't remember when he last gave one to somebody else. Heat rises in his body, turning his cheek pink.

Suddenly dizzy, definitely still drunk after all, a fluttering feeling spreads in his stomach and his eyes slowly drift down to admire Xiaojun's pretty lips.

"I... I need to go to the bathroom," Hendery mumbles. He made a misstep, he knows it, and he needs to get away. Even for a brief moment. Before doing something he will regret.

Xiaojun lets him go with a soft smile, and Hendery hurries towards the bathrooms located at the back of the gallery.

Eyes are wide open, heart pounding in his chest, Hendery stares at himself in the bathroom mirrors. The bathroom is a narrow white tiled room, with a long marble countertop holding four sinks, and two doors on each side with separate toilets - none of them are occupied, and Hendery feels relieved by the short moment of alone time.

The palms of his hands are warm, burning—and his cheeks just the same. It's the drinks, it's just the drinks, he tells himself, but both him and his reflection knows he's lying. With both hands in a secure grip around the edge of the cold sink Hendery lowers his head. Slow, deep breaths. What a mess he's put himself into.

The sound of the door behind him causes him to flinch, to straighten his posture—and through the mirror his eyes meet the one he's been trying his best to avoid.

"Hi..." Yangyang says, hesitantly, in a way Hendery had never heard before.

"Hi."

Yangyang's lips pull into a thin line, as he closes the door behind him, only to lean against the wall instead of occupying one of the toilet stalls. Hendery turns around, slowly, feeling caught and unable to figure out what to do or say.

"So you're really dating that guy?" Yangyang then asks.

Hendery frowns, trying to read the look on his ex's face, and the strange tone in his voice.

"Yeah, why?" he simply replies, but his mind is going crazy.

A loud scoff, Yangyang lets his fingers dive through his pastel hair as he looks away for a second. Lips sucked between his teeth like he's actually, really, considering what to say next. His eyes search the empty room—looking at everything but Hendery.

"He just doesn't seem like your type." Just a small shrug of his shoulder as Yangyang keeps looking away.

"And what is my type?"

"Not him." And with that, Yangyang suddenly looks directly at Hendery. Directly into his eyes. He is jealous, there is no doubt about it.

Hendery swallows, the grip around the sink behind him tightens. The absence of Yangyang's tall model-slash-actor boyfriend had raised questions from the moment Yangyang showed up alone. Maybe he was busy somewhere else. Maybe they had broken up. Hendery doesn't know, but he also knows he shouldn't care. Although he does. Of course he does.

"Where... Where is Mingyu?" he asks, hands sliding along the sink as his grip becomes unsteady.

Yangyang lets out a simple chuckle at the question, pushing himself forward to draw closer to Hendery. Head tilted to the side, hair falling like soft waves over his eyes—and his full lips form into a playful smirk.

"It's been a while since you and I last were alone in a bathroom that wasn't our own," he says, avoiding Hendery's question. "Do you remember the last time? At Minghao's party? You know, when we-"

"I know," Hendery snaps, heat flushing over his cheeks at the memory. "As you said, I was there."

"You also wore a white shirt that night. Well, most of the night, at least."

It is clear as day that Yangyang has no intentions of letting Hendery off the hook. His fingers stroke down the collar of Hendery's shirt as he speaks—his voice turning into a soft purr. Dangerous. Hendery shivers at the first physical contact between them since their break up.

"Where is Mingyu?" Hendery repeats, fumbling in the dark—trying to steer away from the heated memory Yangyang tries to revive in his mind. But even his own voice is distant as he falls straight into Yangyang's deep stare.

"Does it matter?"

One hand gently presses against Hendery's chest, catching each and every one of his rapid heartbeats. Yangyang smiles, his adorable gummy smile that always makes Hendery's heart melt—even now. Especially now. Closer, closer, until Hendery feels warm breath fanning over his lips, until Yangyang's familiar scent is the only air he breathes. Pastel hair twirls between his fingers when Hendery slowly brushes it away from Yangyang's face—fingertips stroking over his soft skin.

Yes, Liu Yangyang has always had a lot of bad habits.

And it appears that he is one of Hendery's.

When eyes close and rationality is forgotten, Hendery is about to slip—ready to fall to the bottom of the ocean all over again. He feels Yangyang's touch fleeting down his neck, how their noses gently bump together like so many times before. Closer, closer, closer.

"Yangyang, stop." Hendery's eyes shoot open and with what feels like the last strength in his entire body, he gets himself pushed past Yangyang. Releasing himself from the soft touch burning against his skin and all the beautiful memories found behind closed eyes. There once was a time where Hendery was the one to take Yangyang home.

But things are different now.

They are not together—and they haven't been for a very long time. Yangyang is with someone else, as far as Hendery is aware, and he brought a date himself. Which suddenly reminds him...

"I-I'm with Xiaojun now," he says but his voice is shaking more than he would have liked.

Yangyang looks at him with a frown showing on his face. He has never been good at not getting his way, but Hendery used to find his bratty attitude quite adoring. That was before, of course.

"I don't believe you," Yangyang snorts, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of him."Where did you meet? And when? You've always been a terrible liar, Hendery."

"I- We... We met at a party."

"A party? Don't make me fucking laugh, Dery, when the fuck did you go to a party ?"

"I- Well, Johnny brought me along. You remember Johnny, right? Johnny Suh."

No response. Yangyang just stares at him.

Silence.

Heavy, awkward, choking silence.

Slowly, Yangyang sucked his lower lip in between his teeth. His eyes burn into Hendery's, both furious and pleading—but most of all, clearly desperate for getting his way.

And just as Hendery begins to panic, on the verge of breaking down and leaving all of his morals behind, to push Yangyang against the door and kiss him like never before, the door opens.

Like an angel sent from above.

"Oh, hey, there you are," Xiaojun says with a relieved sigh that appears too real—just like the soft smile which follows. "I was worried you'd left without me."

It's all an act, the softness, the smiles, the way he makes Hendery's heart skip a beat whenever their eyes meet. But it somehow makes it easier for Hendery to pretend as well, to ignore the raging glare coming from Yangyang standing next to him.

"No, no of course not! Sorry for making you worried."

"It's okay, you can make it up to me when we get home," Xiaojun smiles at him.

Fingertips then draw a gentle stroke along Hendery's bottom lip and lost in sunset eyes, Hendery doesn't even notice how close they are to each other. He feels Xiaojun's warm breath fan over his lips, and suddenly a small peck is left on the tip of his nose. Hendery's cheeks flare up, fire red and he stares at Xiaojun in surprise.

The blonde hair tickles Hendery's nose, when Xiaojun's arms sneak around his waist. Xiaojun lets his head rest against Hendery's shoulder, and his every touch is so calming that it's hard to remember all of it is fake. A simple paid service.

"Oh. We've met before," Xiaojun then says, still snuggled up against Hendery, while his soft voice is meant for Yangyang. "At the restaurant."

"We did." Gritted teeth and rage like fire in his eyes, Yangyang glares back at them.

"Lovely gallery, isn't it?"

"Yes."

Xiaojun lets go of his embrace to grab Hendery by the hand instead. Fingers intertwined again, fitting together like they weren't meant to fit with anyone else's.

"Let's go back to the others? Yuqi just showed me the funniest video on her phone, you have to see it," Xiaojun says with an adorable giggle, one that makes his eyes sparkle and his face completely soften up.

Hendery follows him, not even glancing back at Yangyang this time. What just happened? Did it just happen? Yangyang had been so close and fuck , it felt so good. Too good. Until it didn't. The touch of his hand still lingers on Hendery's skin—burning and tickling at the very same time. With every step Hendery feels more and more dizzy. The room is spinning and the air seems thick.

"I-I need to get out of here..." he whispers, hand clenching around Xiaojun's.

"Sure, follow me."

Maybe it'll be their thing, Hendery feeling sick to his stomach and Xiaojun dragging him outside? Hendery would feel embarrassed by it, if he wasn't on the verge of throwing up.

A few minutes of walking down the street and Hendery's mind is clearing up—and that is when he realizes that Xiaojun is still holding his hand.

"Sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it," Xiaojun says with a shrug, looking at the sky as he walks.

Hendery looks at him for a few seconds. Xiaojun is beautiful, Hendery knew that from the first moment they met—but now, under the evening glow he looks ethereal. But the admiration is soon replaced with reality.

Xiaojun is an escort. A beautiful one, but still an escort.

And everything becomes way too real, way too fast.

"Well I... I should let you go now," Hendery suddenly panics, letting go of Xiaojun's hand. "Thank you for... Helping me out tonight. Five out of five stars. I mean, if you guys had like a website like Yelp or something, I'd definitely give you a good review."

"Like Yelp ?" Thick browns draw together, Xiaojun tilts his head as he lets out a laugh.

"I-" Hendery wants to say something, to crack a joke to cover for the absurdly dumb thing he just said—but all he can think about is how his hand feels without Xiaojun's. And he doesn't like it. "Well, still, thank you."

"No problem. It's my job after all."

"Right... Well, I should..." An awkward move with his head, Hendery tries to gesture he's about to leave. Even though he doesn't want to. "Okay... Bye. Take care."

About to turn away to leave, Hendery feels a hand slide around his upper arm. Stunned, he stares at Xiaojun next to him.

"Well," Xiaojun smiles. "You've already paid me for the entire night. So, you wanna go do something else?"

"L-Like what?" It's barely audible when Hendery speaks, but he doesn't even notice. All he sees is those pretty lips and as distance closes between them it feels impossible to ever see anything else ever again.

A sweet whisper tickles his skin; Xiaojun's fingertips stroke under Hendery's chin.

"Anything you want."