original

All That We Held Dear

章節 1: Arc I - Going Home - Part 1

Xiao Zhan got close to the door of his room, phone in hand. Over the few days of his stay, he'd figured out that if he stood perfectly still and got the angle just right, he could catch enough of the small hotel's wifi to send and receive messages. It wasn't ideal, but it beat sitting downstairs in the musty lobby and having the owner fawn over him. As a general rule, he didn't mind fans and was happy to interact (albeit to a point), but he was used to more decorum from the service industry. Thinking it would be the extent of the interaction, he'd made the mistake of allowing her to take a picture with him on the first day. Over the following days, a parade of relatives and friends had been waiting for him in the lobby for more pictures every night. Exhausted from long days of shooting in the sun and the heat, he surely would have been forgiven for declining, but he hated confrontations, and so he'd given in, hating himself for it a little more each time. Now that he was finally about to leave, he was afraid of what she might have in store for him. He'd resolved to stay in his room for as long as possible.

"Come on!"

He took half a step closer to the corner of the doorframe and the wall. Suddenly, two bars showed on the screen.

"Good. Good," he said, slowly sitting down on the rough carpet while doing his best to maintain the connection.

The phone suddenly emitted a burst of short buzzes as messages came in. He opened WeChat. There were four messages from his mother, which he quickly read.

Was the weather in Thailand holding up? Was he eating well? Kuai (her teacup poodle) had eaten something he shouldn't have and had been rushed to the vet. Again. When was he coming back?

He typed a short answer to all her questions lest she got angry that he was "leaving her on read" again.

A few other messages were from his manager and gave him pick-up details for his arrival in Beijing the next day. There were also some ads, one of which featured a picture of him. He deleted it. He wasn't a fan of seeing himself photoshopped. After getting all that business out of the way, he finally allowed himself to look at the messages he really wanted to see. He tapped on "DiDi."

Yibo had sent him a few messages since morning. He'd wished him a good shoot, sent him a picture of a lounging cat he'd seen on the way to work with a caption that read "That's you," and a snapshot of his lunch which, according to the message that followed, hadn't been as tasty as it had first appeared. Last came a few pictures taken while on a photo shoot for an expensive Korean perfume brand, a contract he had landed just before Xiao Zhan had left for Thailand. They'd done an excellent job with the makeup, and since these were shots of the shoot itself (no doubt taken by a member of the staff), Yibo still looked close to his natural self, albeit enhanced by the lighting. He had a serious look that made Xiao Zhan chuckle.

"So fierce," he remarked.

He zoomed in on the picture to get a closer look at his face and couldn't help but feel excited that he would get to see him the next day. Their schedules hadn't aligned recently, and they hadn't been able to meet for over a month.

"Yibo," he said to the last picture, this one a candid shot of the man laughing. "I'm coming home."

The phone suddenly buzzed. It was Yibo. His heart lurched, and he couldn't help but smile at the screen as he read the message.

I hope the last day of the shoot went well. I assume you're done?

Xiao Zhan quickly replied.

All done. I'm tired. Going out for dinner with everyone tonight. Should be fun.

A reply came immediately.

Flight still at the same time?

Yes. See you at the usual?

This was code for Xiao Zhan's place. They didn't trust the so-called privacy of social apps and were always careful not to say anything that wouldn't fit in the context of a conversation between friends.

Yibo sent a smiling emoji followed by a thumbs-up, and Xiao Zhan resisted the urge to hug his phone. A new picture arrived: a selfie of Yibo wearing a motorcycle helmet.

Going for a ride with my new helmet. Looks nice, don't you think?

Xiao Zhan smiled. He had given it to him for the second anniversary of their first day on the set of The Untamed.

Horrible. Whoever gave you this has no taste.

Yibo replied with a laughing emoji.

I'm leaving Seoul early tomorrow morning. Gotta go now. The boys are waiting. I'll text you again later.

The boys. Xiao Zhan surmised he meant the members of UNIQ who weren't currently in the military. According to Yibo, they all enjoyed riding motorbikes together whenever they could, which was rare, especially since their agency found it too dangerous.

While he was typing his response, another message came in.

I miss you so much.

Xiao Zhan smiled ear to ear and sighed. This "so" was risky, but he was still glad to see it. He missed Yibo so much that his yearning was physically painful. He erased his message and started anew.

I miss you, too. Be careful on the road.

He pressed send, but the message didn't go through. He looked at the wifi symbol. He had lost all his bars. He tried to move the phone this and that way but couldn't get reception anymore. He wondered if the hotel owner hadn't cut the WIFI to make him come downstairs and ask. He decided not to fall into her trap and to take a nap until it was time to go for dinner.

His message remained unsent.

***

He was drunk. Drunker than he had intended to be, but the party was lively, and the SangSom and Mekhong had been poured and drunk generously by everyone. They'd booked an entire restaurant (one of two institutions worth of the name in this small remote town and the only one with AC), and the owner, delighted to host them, had taken out some of his very own moonshine to honour them. Xiao Zhan had thought he might go blind after the first sip, but soon he and most of the other actors and crew had gotten used to the burning sensation. True to the owner's words, it paired wonderfully with the local dishes. He had eaten too much, drunk too much, and regretted none of it.

Out of habit, he took out his phone and looked to see if he had any messages. Of course, he was still out of range, so there were none. He opened WeChat anyway, and, hiding his screen as much as possible, he looked at Yibo's pictures. Immediately forgetting again that he had no connection, he tried to send the message that hadn't gone through. He tapped "resend" several times, but it didn't do anything. Finally, he closed the app and noticed the time—9:35 pm.

He looked up from his phone to realize that the people near him had grown quiet and were all staring at him with concerned looks on their faces.

"What?" he said with a slight slur, putting his phone in his pocket with great difficulty.

"Are you ok?" asked the director, seated on his right.

"I'm fine. Why do you ask? Why are you all staring at me like that?"

He took a long drag of beer from a glass that probably was his. Maybe. When he put it down, his female co-star handed him a paper napkin from across the table.

"You're crying," she said quietly.

Taken aback, he laughed and touched his face.

"Am I?"

He was surprised to find out that there were indeed tears on his face. He took the offered napkin and wiped his cheeks. He shrugged.

"I'm fine! I have no idea what this is about! I must be drunker than I thought!" He said with another laugh.

This seemed to satisfy everyone, and the party resumed with the owner bringing another bottle.

The rest of the night was a blur. How Xiao Zhan had made it back to the hotel was a mystery to him, but he did have the vague memory of a karaoke session. Whether it had been at the restaurant or somewhere else, he couldn't tell. He also thought he'd been sick, but how many times and where, that wasn't clear either. All he knew was that his mouth tasted funny, and the room wouldn't stop spinning. He lay on his bed in his clothes, hoping for the sweet release of sleep, when he suddenly sat up straight.

"Yibo. I need… I need power to talk to you!" He exclaimed.

He fumbled to get his phone out and dropped it. It slid under the bed, and he had to get on all four to retrieve it. When he finally got a hold of it, he banged his head on the nightstand. He whined and glared at the offending furniture. Finally, he took the cable that sat on top of it. It took him a few tries to plug it in, but he eventually managed. His mission accomplished, he clambered back into bed and closed his eyes, a smile on his lips. He would see Yibo tomorrow. It was first light when he finally drifted to sleep.