Honey Won't You Let Me In - Part 3
Apr. 23rd, 2014 07:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
surgicalfocusTitle: Honey Won’t You Let Me In – Part 3
Pairing: Baekhyun/Chanyeol
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance, Vampire!AU. Sort of inspired by Let The Right One In.
Length: Four parts
Word Count: ~4,200
Warnings: Mild language. Any lyrics used do not belong to me.
Summary:Possibly a better love story than Twilight.
‘As the buildings grew high, you knew nothing about time
But an arrow just brushing your chin
You said, "Damned be this wind, it’s still moving on in
To the bones in the bed of my soul.”.’
+ + + + +
Chanyeol is in bed huddled beneath the covers when he hears several loud knocks at the front door of his apartment.
Oh god, please go away..
He waits for a while in silence, hardly daring to breathe, but the knocks only grow more persistent. Whoever it is, they’re not going anywhere in a hurry.
Chanyeol sighs and reluctantly rolls out of bed. Tiptoeing over to the front door, he peers through the peephole, and gets an eyeful of Baekhyun staring right at him.
“Chanyeol… are you in there…?” comes the muffled voice through the door.
Chanyeol immediately moves away from the peephole and stands there, frozen on his feet. Should he or shouldn’t he say something?
Baekhyun knocks loudly another three times.
“Chanyeol, please let me in,” he pleads. “I need to talk to you.”
“If you want to talk to me, you’ll have to do it through this door,” Chanyeol replies coldly. “There’s no way I’m opening it.”
“Alright… I guess that’s understandable…”
Chanyeol sinks down to the floor and sits with his back leaning against the door.
“Well? Go on, then. I haven’t got all night..”
“Okay, okay. How shall I put this… I’ve known you for a long time,” Baekhyun says, and he hesitates for a moment. “Longer than you think.”
“What do you mean?”
There’s a moment of silence before Baekhyun responds.
“I didn’t do anything to Taeyeon. I am Taeyeon.”
At first Chanyeol isn’t sure he heard correctly, so he stands up, unlocks the door and yanks it open. He finds Baekhyun standing there, looking tired and withdrawn and even paler than usual.
“What the hell are you on about..?”
“I’m Taeyeon,” Baekhyun says again, “or at least, I was Taeyeon. For a while.”
Chanyeol stares at him incredulously. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Taeyeon’s a girl.”
Baekhyun shakes his head. “No. I was always a boy. I was only posing as a girl, at my mother’s insistence.”
“But… why?”
Baekhyun briefly turns his head to look around him, and then turns back to face Chanyeol.
“Can I come in? I don’t feel comfortable talking about this in your doorway.”
Chanyeol sighs and nods in agreement. “Yeah, I guess so…” he says quietly, standing aside to let Baekhyun pass. He leads the way to the living room and they both sit down.
“Okay,” he says, “now spit it out.”
“When I was a child -- before I moved into the house next door to you – I… I attacked someone,” Baekhyun says quietly. “Because the incident was witnessed by other people, we had to move away. To this day, I’m not sure what became of my victim, but my mother was very paranoid about our safety. She was absolutely convinced that there was someone after us – or me, more specifically -- so she came up with the crazy idea of disguising me as a girl until she felt things were a little safer. At first I protested, but she was adamant, so I reluctantly agreed. I let my hair grow out, and for a while I was Taeyeon. I named myself after my favourite singer at the time.”
“And then you met me..” Chanyeol murmurs, numbly staring at the floor.
“And then I met you.”
“Well, you sure had me fooled… I honestly had no idea.”
Baekhyun shrugs. “I was still pre-pubescent, so I suppose it would have been hard to tell either way..”
“But why did you move away..? I never understood why. I went to your house to see if you were there, and you never opened up. Then when I went around the back, I found one of the windows smashed in, and I assumed something bad had happened to you both..”
“Yes,” Baekhyun nods, “the window was broken because someone hurled a brick through it in the middle of the night. It had a note attached to it… my mother read it, but she wouldn’t tell me what it said. I think she didn’t want to scare me, but whatever it was, she found it extremely upsetting. She was terrified. So we packed up whatever we could fit in our car, and we left.”
“You know, those boys never bothered me again after the park incident…” Chanyeol says thoughtfully. “Do you think it had something to do with that..?”
Baekhyun smiles. “I knew they wouldn’t… but I don’t know. I guess it’s possible. Those boys… well… they saw for themselves that I wasn’t a normal child.”
“Well, you could have at least told me, or written to me or something. I lost sleep over your disappearance for months..”
“I wanted to tell you, but my mother ordered me not to contact you again. You weren’t speaking to me at the time anyway, and it seemed like I’d caused you enough trouble. But I missed you terribly -- I never stopped. I think I was probably in love with you even then, but I didn’t really know what being in love meant. I don’t know if I even thought loving another boy was possible; that was something I only learned to understand later on.”
Chanyeol can’t bring himself to respond. He suddenly feels too angry to speak, and he doesn’t know why; Baekhyun had a legitimate reason to leave him, after all. But all that time wasted on worrying…
Now it feels like it was all in vain.
“What are you thinking..?” Baekhyun asks quietly. He leans across to hold Chanyeol’s hand, squeezing it gently, but Chanyeol doesn’t squeeze back.
“I don’t know,” he replies, “I don’t know how to feel… this is a hell of a lot to take in. I’m… I’m angry, I guess, that you kept all of this from me for so long. I’m not sure I want to believe it.”
Baekhyun nods, looking upset, and slowly moves his hand away.
“You know, it’s funny how often I was taunted at school by the other kids for being Dracula’s child, all because I had solar urticaria and it made me react badly to the sun…” Chanyeol says bitterly. “And yet, my only friend was an actual real-life vampire the whole time. I really could just laugh, it’s so fucking ridiculous.”
“Chanyeol, please,” Baekhyun pleads, “look at me...”
Chanyeol turns his head to look at Baekhyun, studying the other man’s features carefully. It's undeniable… uncanny, even. He has the same eyes; the same rosy lips, with the same perfectly-shaped Cupid’s bow; the same pale, flawless skin.
He could very well be Taeyeon -- a taller, older, male version of Taeyeon -- with short hair and a slightly more angular jawline… Chanyeol doesn’t know how he never saw it before.
Perhaps because it was the last thought that would ever have entered his mind… at least until now.
Why would anyone lie about something like that, anyway? There's just no conceivable motive.
Unless he just wants to fuck with my mind. If that’s the case, he's certainly succeeding.
Baekhyun reaches over to lightly run his fingers over Chanyeol’s face. Chanyeol lets him for a moment, and parts of his childhood begin to flash before his very eyes.
I used to sit with her in my treehouse-- with him in my treehouse, I mean.
We listened to The Beatles together.
I made him a bracelet.
He gave me my first kiss.
He singlehandedly beat up my tormentors.
He killed Jongdae’s dog.
He made it push up daisies in his own backyard.
This is way too weird for me…
“Please don’t,” Chanyeol says quietly, pushing Baekhyun’s hand away. “Is… is Baekhyun even your real name..?”
“No. I prefer not to tell people my birth name. I’m not that person anymore.”
“Then who are you? Do you even know? Because I certainly don’t..”
“Chanyeol..”
“Don’t,” Chanyeol whispers, shaking his head. “Please. I can forgive the fact that you’re a monster... Maybe. You probably can’t help what you are. Can I catch it from you..?”
“No,” Baekhyun says, his voice shaking a little. He sounds distraught. “I’m the product of a brief love affair between a vampire father and a human mother, making me a half-blood by birth. I don’t have the power to turn people.”
“But you’ve drunk human blood before. Was it more than once..?”
“Yes. But I never hurt anyone because I wanted to... it’s just.. it’s nature.”
“You being a bloodsucker is many things," Chanyeol scoffs, "but don’t you dare tell me it’s natural..”
“Well, whether it is or not, I need to do it to live,” Baekhyun replies angrily. “What makes you think I have any less right to live than you? I can't help what I am… I was born this way. I’ve never had a choice.”
“If you’ve attacked other people before, what’s stopping you from attacking me?”
“I told you I don’t feed on humans anymore, and I would never hurt someone I love,” Baekhyun says, his voice little more than a whisper. “I’d rather starve.”
Those words ring repeatedly in Chanyeol’s ears. 'Someone I love...'
He loves me.
He shakes the thought away before it can sink into his brain any further.
“I don’t want to hear this anymore..” he says, gesturing towards the door. “I think it’s time you left. I’m tired.”
“Chanyeol, please, just for a moment, think about how it feels to be someone like me.”
“Playing the sympathy card is not going to work..”
“I'm not asking for your sympathy,” Baekhyun says, standing up and making his way towards the door. “I’ve been straddling two separate worlds my whole life, and I belong in neither of them. I was simply hoping you might understand how that feels. Apparently it was too much to hope for.”
Chanyeol remains where he is, staring at nothing in particular until he hears the front door close, and then wanders back to bed.
He doesn’t sleep.
+ + + + +
[I’ve had quite a few listeners texting in and asking how it's going with The Pianist. Well, kids, I hate to disappoint you all, but The Pianist wasn't who I thought he was. But the good news is I'm back on the market, if any of you want to take his place.
Today’s show was brought to you by the letters L, I, A and R – in that order. The word of the day is sanguisugent. Here's Carly Simon with You’re So Vain.]
+ + + + +
Chanyeol’s phone rings, sending vibrations through the wooden bar table and making him jump. It’s probably the twentieth time the bloody thing has rung today, but he nearly throws his drink across the room all the same.
He glances at the number flashing on the screen, grunts his disapproval and pushes the device away.
“Aren’t you going to answer that..?” Jongin asks, and Chanyeol shakes his head.
“Nope.”
Jongin frowns. “Why not?”
“Because I’m not ready to talk to him.”
“Look. I have no idea what he did to you, but is it really so bad that you have to shut him out completely..?”
Chanyeol picks out the maraschino cherry from his cocktail, nibbling at it absently for a moment, and then remembers that he hates the damned things. “I haven’t decided yet,” he replies, chucking the half-eaten cherry away, “and before you make any judgments, just bear in mind that you don’t know the whole story.”
“Yeah. Because you won’t tell me.”
“I can’t, okay?” Chanyeol sighs, “it’s… really complicated.”
Jongin snorts obnoxiously. “Well, that’s a cop-out..”
“What do you mean..?” Chanyeol says, glaring at him.
“I know what you’re going to do,” Jongin replies. “You’re going to wait for the ‘universe to give you a sign’, or whatever New Age crap you believe in these days… but it might not give you one, Chanyeol. Sometimes you just need to step up and make these decisions on your own. Waiting around without doing anything about it is only going to make things worse.”
“Alright, well, here’s my decision, then,” Chanyeol snaps, standing up abruptly and pushing his chair in. “I’m not going to call him back, because I’m done with this whole thing. Now just drop it.”
He can hear Jongin calling after him as he makes his way out of the bar, but Chanyeol refuses to turn around. Once outside, he opens the door of the first vacant cab he can find and tells the driver to take him home.
During the drive home, Chanyeol takes out his phone and goes through his recent calls list; as expected, there’s a bunch of missed calls from Baekhyun – and one from Jongin, which must have come through a few minutes ago after he stormed out of the bar. He counts a grand total of 23 missed calls, and deletes every single one.
Chanyeol puts the phone away and goes back to looking out the window in silence. The cab driver seems to have nothing to add to the non-existent conversation, other than a terrible case of smoker’s cough and a brief comment on the weather.
While dragging his feet up the stairs to his apartment, Chanyeol takes his phone out of his pocket again and searches for Baekhyun’s number in his list of contacts. He stares at it until the digits seem to swim around in front of his eyes, and the pad of his thumb hovers just above the delete button, but somehow he can’t make himself go through with it. It just feels too final.
He isn’t quite ready for final. Not just yet.
Upon letting himself into his apartment, Chanyeol discovers a pale blue envelope lying on the floor in front of him. It’s a little crumpled, which seems to suggest that it was probably shoved somewhat hastily under the door. Looking around him, he bends down to pick it up and turns it over to see if it's addressed to anyone.
There is no name or address to be found; only the words 'just in case' written in neat cursive, followed by a single initial ‘B.’
Chanyeol carefully eases the envelope open, finding a single ticket inside, and nothing more. He squints at the information printed on the small slip of cardboard in his hands.
Mr. Mysterio. Saturday, June 30th at The Playhouse Bar. 9pm.
+ + + + +
The next day, Chanyeol spends the entirety of his shift thinking about nothing but that ticket, and finds himself too distracted to bother making witty conversation with any of the listeners calling in.
Should I go? Should I not go?
What the hell should I do..?
A new call comes through and immediately snaps him back to reality.
"As always, don’t forget to text in your votes for Dr. Shorty’s Top 40. Hello, you're on the air," he drones robotically into the microphone.
There's silence on the other end of the line for a moment, followed by a bit of crackling.
Chanyeol sighs.
"If it’s permission you’re after, then you may speak,” he says, trying to sound as friendly and encouraging as possible, and failing miserably.
Still nothing.
He’s just about to move on to the next song on his playlist when a soft, throaty voice filters through his headphones.
"Yes. Hello, Dr. Shorty.”
A wide-eyed Chanyeol sits up straighter in his seat, recognising the voice instantly.
“Uh… hello… what can I play for you today..?”
“I'd like to request Here Comes The Sun, by The Beatles.”
“A very good choice. It’s an old favourite of mine.”
I should probably ask his name. I always ask for their names...
No. I can’t. I can’t do it.
“Yes, me too," the voice continues, "and… and I’d like to dedicate it to someone.”
Chanyeol hears more crackling, followed by more silence.
“Well… who’s the lucky person, then?”
He feels a bit stupid for asking – he’s 99% sure he already knows, after all -- but it’s standard procedure.
“He knows who he is,” comes the cryptic reply, and then the line goes dead.
+ + + + +
“Well, obviously the only solution is to go,” Jongin declares matter-of-factly. He studies the ticket carefully one more time and passes it back across the table to Chanyeol.
Chanyeol buries his head in his hands. "Dammit. He really knows how to screw with my head, this guy. All it took was one little song request… and now the bloody ticket, as well. I really wanted to go to that show, too.”
Jongin shrugs. “I’ll go if you don’t want to.”
Chanyeol lifts his head and looks at Jongin skeptically. “Do you even know who Mr. Mysterio is..?”
“Not really. But a free ticket is a free ticket. No point letting it go to waste.”
“You can’t go in my place, Jongin. He’s expecting me to show up, not you..”
Jongin rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. “So go, then. Why do you always complicate things unnecessarily? Do I have to make another bet just to get you to do something for yourself..?”
"He’s a liar -- I'll just put it that way."
“You’ve seemed really happy lately, you know,” Jongin says, swallowing the last of his drink and pushing the empty glass aside. “The happiest I’ve seen you in a long time – at least until all of this happened, anyway."
"I know. But that's all over now, isn't it..?" Chanyeol says bitterly.
“Or maybe it isn’t.”
Chanyeol chews on his straw instead of replying.
“Just go to the damn show. Even if you don’t get back with him, at least give him a shot at making it up to you. He clearly wants to reconcile..”
“You don’t know what I know..”
“Maybe not. But I do know that you still love him in spite of what he’s done. You wouldn’t care so much about all of this if you didn’t. I can see it in your big dumb puppy-dog eyes, Yeol.”
Chanyeol thinks about this for a moment and then lets his head hit the table.
“Dammit, Jongin…”
“I’m right, aren’t I..?”
Chanyeol doesn’t reply. He doesn’t even lift his head up from the table, so Jongin uses him as an armrest for the remainder of the evening.
+ + + + +
Chanyeol checks his watch for the hundredth time and taps his feet anxiously against his chair. He deliberately chose a seat towards the back of the room so he could keep an eye on the door, but Baekhyun has yet to show up.
Where is he? I’m supposed to be the one that’s always running late..
The Playhouse is pretty run-of-the-mill, usually – it’s renowned for hosting all the good live gigs, and has become somewhat popular with the trendy twenty-something crowd, but to Chanyeol it’s just another ordinary bar. Still, the place has been decked out properly for the show, set up with tables near the front, and multiple rows of chairs behind them. A grand piano sits at the centre of the stage.
Chanyeol looks around at the crowd, all of whom are better dressed than he is, and then looks down at his own rather casual outfit of black jeans and a checked shirt.
I am definitely not dressed for the occasion.
Baekhyun will probably show up looking amazing, as always..
Several minutes pass, and the seats around him begin to fill up with people chattering away excitedly to each other in hushed voices. Baekhyun is still nowhere to be seen.
Chanyeol glances at his watch again. Five to nine.
These things hardly ever run on time anyway, but still.
Where is he? They’ll probably close the doors soon.
He briefly considers calling Baekhyun, but pulling his phone from his pocket is as far as Chanyeol gets before changing his mind. He rests it on his knee instead, and soon afterwards it vibrates with a text notification.
‘I got caught up. Will be late – so sorry. If I don't get there in time, wait for me after the show? Looking forward to seeing you. – B.’
Chanyeol sighs and puts the phone back in his pocket, out of sight and mind. Being able to see it only makes him feel more on edge for some reason.
He’s still sitting alone when the lights in the room begin to dim, and a spotlight settles on the piano in the centre of the stage. The room seems to quite literally vibrate with anticipation, and then a figure dressed head-to-toe in white emerges from behind the curtains. He’s wearing a white peaked cap on his head, and a black mask with a curved beak that covers most of his face.
He walks silently across the stage, sits down at the piano and waits there for a moment – a long, silent moment that has everyone in the room whispering to each other. It makes Chanyeol fidget nervously in his seat for reasons he can’t explain.
Then Mr. Mysterio finally begins to play, and everyone immediately shuts up.
Every song he plays is more spectacular than the last. There are times when Chanyeol is so moved by the music that he’s almost in tears, and then there are others when the pianist makes the entire room laugh, despite never actually saying a word. It’s a brilliant show, even better than his last, but there’s still one thought in the back of Chanyeol’s mind that won’t let him enjoy it to the fullest.
I really wish Baekhyun was here to see this too.
Chanyeol keeps hoping that Baekhyun will suddenly materialise out of nowhere and sit down in the free seat next to him, and that they’ll be able to share the rest of this special evening together, but he doesn’t. And then before he knows it, Mr. Mysterio has gotten up off the bench and left the stage.
The show is over.
Everyone in the room gets to their feet at once and cheers loudly, clapping and stamping their feet and hollering for an encore. Chanyeol joins in, if a little half-heartedly. After a few minutes, Mr. Mysterio returns to the stage, holds up one finger to the audience, and resumes his seat at the piano.
Then he begins to play a song. A song Chanyeol has heard only once before.
That song…
No. It can’t be.
Baekhyun.
But it is. It’s the same song Baekhyun played for him in his bedroom that night. The one he composed himself.
At the end of the performance, the pianist stands up and turns around to face the audience, bowing to their applause. Although Chanyeol can’t see his face, he looks rather beautiful standing there; the dust particles lit up by the stage lights float around him like tiny snowflakes. He stares into the crowd, apparently searching for someone, and in the split second that their eyes meet Chanyeol swears he can see something; something that he recognizes, but cannot name. The tiniest sparkle; a little part of himself reflected right back at him.
Mr. Mysterio takes one final bow, but before he can leave, a man from the front row jumps up onto the stage and lunges at him, tearing the mask right off his face.
The entire audience grows silent.
“Was that supposed to happen..?” Chanyeol hears someone behind him whisper.
Before anyone has time to react, Baekhyun throws the man from the stage, and sends him flying halfway across the room like a crash test dummy. The man goes hurtling into the audience, collecting a bunch of tables and chairs, and colliding with the people seated on them.
The room becomes deathly, dangerously quiet, save for the pained groans emanating from the pile of battered people and splintered furniture.
Baekhyun stands in the centre of the stage, breathing heavily, with his mask hanging around his neck, his cap at his feet and his jacket askew. He directs those frightened-animal eyes in Chanyeol’s direction, so wide and black that they could swallow up the entire room and everything in it, and Chanyeol is instantly reminded of that fateful night all over again.
He can almost smell the blood.
Baekhyun turns on his heel and vanishes behind the velvet curtains, leaving behind him a room abuzz with confusion and chaos.
Security staff rush over to assist the injured, and Chanyeol can hear people around him whispering to each other.
“He could have killed that man..”
“What is he, some sort of mutant..?”
The whispers continue to ring in Chanyeol’s ears as he hurries towards the exit, their voices all muddled together in a stream of garbled nonsense that haunts him all the way to Baekhyun’s apartment.
________________________________________________
Part Four (Final)
Pairing: Baekhyun/Chanyeol
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance, Vampire!AU. Sort of inspired by Let The Right One In.
Length: Four parts
Word Count: ~4,200
Warnings: Mild language. Any lyrics used do not belong to me.
Summary:
‘As the buildings grew high, you knew nothing about time
But an arrow just brushing your chin
You said, "Damned be this wind, it’s still moving on in
To the bones in the bed of my soul.”.’
Chanyeol is in bed huddled beneath the covers when he hears several loud knocks at the front door of his apartment.
Oh god, please go away..
He waits for a while in silence, hardly daring to breathe, but the knocks only grow more persistent. Whoever it is, they’re not going anywhere in a hurry.
Chanyeol sighs and reluctantly rolls out of bed. Tiptoeing over to the front door, he peers through the peephole, and gets an eyeful of Baekhyun staring right at him.
“Chanyeol… are you in there…?” comes the muffled voice through the door.
Chanyeol immediately moves away from the peephole and stands there, frozen on his feet. Should he or shouldn’t he say something?
Baekhyun knocks loudly another three times.
“Chanyeol, please let me in,” he pleads. “I need to talk to you.”
“If you want to talk to me, you’ll have to do it through this door,” Chanyeol replies coldly. “There’s no way I’m opening it.”
“Alright… I guess that’s understandable…”
Chanyeol sinks down to the floor and sits with his back leaning against the door.
“Well? Go on, then. I haven’t got all night..”
“Okay, okay. How shall I put this… I’ve known you for a long time,” Baekhyun says, and he hesitates for a moment. “Longer than you think.”
“What do you mean?”
There’s a moment of silence before Baekhyun responds.
“I didn’t do anything to Taeyeon. I am Taeyeon.”
At first Chanyeol isn’t sure he heard correctly, so he stands up, unlocks the door and yanks it open. He finds Baekhyun standing there, looking tired and withdrawn and even paler than usual.
“What the hell are you on about..?”
“I’m Taeyeon,” Baekhyun says again, “or at least, I was Taeyeon. For a while.”
Chanyeol stares at him incredulously. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Taeyeon’s a girl.”
Baekhyun shakes his head. “No. I was always a boy. I was only posing as a girl, at my mother’s insistence.”
“But… why?”
Baekhyun briefly turns his head to look around him, and then turns back to face Chanyeol.
“Can I come in? I don’t feel comfortable talking about this in your doorway.”
Chanyeol sighs and nods in agreement. “Yeah, I guess so…” he says quietly, standing aside to let Baekhyun pass. He leads the way to the living room and they both sit down.
“Okay,” he says, “now spit it out.”
“When I was a child -- before I moved into the house next door to you – I… I attacked someone,” Baekhyun says quietly. “Because the incident was witnessed by other people, we had to move away. To this day, I’m not sure what became of my victim, but my mother was very paranoid about our safety. She was absolutely convinced that there was someone after us – or me, more specifically -- so she came up with the crazy idea of disguising me as a girl until she felt things were a little safer. At first I protested, but she was adamant, so I reluctantly agreed. I let my hair grow out, and for a while I was Taeyeon. I named myself after my favourite singer at the time.”
“And then you met me..” Chanyeol murmurs, numbly staring at the floor.
“And then I met you.”
“Well, you sure had me fooled… I honestly had no idea.”
Baekhyun shrugs. “I was still pre-pubescent, so I suppose it would have been hard to tell either way..”
“But why did you move away..? I never understood why. I went to your house to see if you were there, and you never opened up. Then when I went around the back, I found one of the windows smashed in, and I assumed something bad had happened to you both..”
“Yes,” Baekhyun nods, “the window was broken because someone hurled a brick through it in the middle of the night. It had a note attached to it… my mother read it, but she wouldn’t tell me what it said. I think she didn’t want to scare me, but whatever it was, she found it extremely upsetting. She was terrified. So we packed up whatever we could fit in our car, and we left.”
“You know, those boys never bothered me again after the park incident…” Chanyeol says thoughtfully. “Do you think it had something to do with that..?”
Baekhyun smiles. “I knew they wouldn’t… but I don’t know. I guess it’s possible. Those boys… well… they saw for themselves that I wasn’t a normal child.”
“Well, you could have at least told me, or written to me or something. I lost sleep over your disappearance for months..”
“I wanted to tell you, but my mother ordered me not to contact you again. You weren’t speaking to me at the time anyway, and it seemed like I’d caused you enough trouble. But I missed you terribly -- I never stopped. I think I was probably in love with you even then, but I didn’t really know what being in love meant. I don’t know if I even thought loving another boy was possible; that was something I only learned to understand later on.”
Chanyeol can’t bring himself to respond. He suddenly feels too angry to speak, and he doesn’t know why; Baekhyun had a legitimate reason to leave him, after all. But all that time wasted on worrying…
Now it feels like it was all in vain.
“What are you thinking..?” Baekhyun asks quietly. He leans across to hold Chanyeol’s hand, squeezing it gently, but Chanyeol doesn’t squeeze back.
“I don’t know,” he replies, “I don’t know how to feel… this is a hell of a lot to take in. I’m… I’m angry, I guess, that you kept all of this from me for so long. I’m not sure I want to believe it.”
Baekhyun nods, looking upset, and slowly moves his hand away.
“You know, it’s funny how often I was taunted at school by the other kids for being Dracula’s child, all because I had solar urticaria and it made me react badly to the sun…” Chanyeol says bitterly. “And yet, my only friend was an actual real-life vampire the whole time. I really could just laugh, it’s so fucking ridiculous.”
“Chanyeol, please,” Baekhyun pleads, “look at me...”
Chanyeol turns his head to look at Baekhyun, studying the other man’s features carefully. It's undeniable… uncanny, even. He has the same eyes; the same rosy lips, with the same perfectly-shaped Cupid’s bow; the same pale, flawless skin.
He could very well be Taeyeon -- a taller, older, male version of Taeyeon -- with short hair and a slightly more angular jawline… Chanyeol doesn’t know how he never saw it before.
Perhaps because it was the last thought that would ever have entered his mind… at least until now.
Why would anyone lie about something like that, anyway? There's just no conceivable motive.
Unless he just wants to fuck with my mind. If that’s the case, he's certainly succeeding.
Baekhyun reaches over to lightly run his fingers over Chanyeol’s face. Chanyeol lets him for a moment, and parts of his childhood begin to flash before his very eyes.
I used to sit with her in my treehouse-- with him in my treehouse, I mean.
We listened to The Beatles together.
I made him a bracelet.
He gave me my first kiss.
He singlehandedly beat up my tormentors.
He killed Jongdae’s dog.
He made it push up daisies in his own backyard.
This is way too weird for me…
“Please don’t,” Chanyeol says quietly, pushing Baekhyun’s hand away. “Is… is Baekhyun even your real name..?”
“No. I prefer not to tell people my birth name. I’m not that person anymore.”
“Then who are you? Do you even know? Because I certainly don’t..”
“Chanyeol..”
“Don’t,” Chanyeol whispers, shaking his head. “Please. I can forgive the fact that you’re a monster... Maybe. You probably can’t help what you are. Can I catch it from you..?”
“No,” Baekhyun says, his voice shaking a little. He sounds distraught. “I’m the product of a brief love affair between a vampire father and a human mother, making me a half-blood by birth. I don’t have the power to turn people.”
“But you’ve drunk human blood before. Was it more than once..?”
“Yes. But I never hurt anyone because I wanted to... it’s just.. it’s nature.”
“You being a bloodsucker is many things," Chanyeol scoffs, "but don’t you dare tell me it’s natural..”
“Well, whether it is or not, I need to do it to live,” Baekhyun replies angrily. “What makes you think I have any less right to live than you? I can't help what I am… I was born this way. I’ve never had a choice.”
“If you’ve attacked other people before, what’s stopping you from attacking me?”
“I told you I don’t feed on humans anymore, and I would never hurt someone I love,” Baekhyun says, his voice little more than a whisper. “I’d rather starve.”
Those words ring repeatedly in Chanyeol’s ears. 'Someone I love...'
He loves me.
He shakes the thought away before it can sink into his brain any further.
“I don’t want to hear this anymore..” he says, gesturing towards the door. “I think it’s time you left. I’m tired.”
“Chanyeol, please, just for a moment, think about how it feels to be someone like me.”
“Playing the sympathy card is not going to work..”
“I'm not asking for your sympathy,” Baekhyun says, standing up and making his way towards the door. “I’ve been straddling two separate worlds my whole life, and I belong in neither of them. I was simply hoping you might understand how that feels. Apparently it was too much to hope for.”
Chanyeol remains where he is, staring at nothing in particular until he hears the front door close, and then wanders back to bed.
He doesn’t sleep.
[I’ve had quite a few listeners texting in and asking how it's going with The Pianist. Well, kids, I hate to disappoint you all, but The Pianist wasn't who I thought he was. But the good news is I'm back on the market, if any of you want to take his place.
Today’s show was brought to you by the letters L, I, A and R – in that order. The word of the day is sanguisugent. Here's Carly Simon with You’re So Vain.]
Chanyeol’s phone rings, sending vibrations through the wooden bar table and making him jump. It’s probably the twentieth time the bloody thing has rung today, but he nearly throws his drink across the room all the same.
He glances at the number flashing on the screen, grunts his disapproval and pushes the device away.
“Aren’t you going to answer that..?” Jongin asks, and Chanyeol shakes his head.
“Nope.”
Jongin frowns. “Why not?”
“Because I’m not ready to talk to him.”
“Look. I have no idea what he did to you, but is it really so bad that you have to shut him out completely..?”
Chanyeol picks out the maraschino cherry from his cocktail, nibbling at it absently for a moment, and then remembers that he hates the damned things. “I haven’t decided yet,” he replies, chucking the half-eaten cherry away, “and before you make any judgments, just bear in mind that you don’t know the whole story.”
“Yeah. Because you won’t tell me.”
“I can’t, okay?” Chanyeol sighs, “it’s… really complicated.”
Jongin snorts obnoxiously. “Well, that’s a cop-out..”
“What do you mean..?” Chanyeol says, glaring at him.
“I know what you’re going to do,” Jongin replies. “You’re going to wait for the ‘universe to give you a sign’, or whatever New Age crap you believe in these days… but it might not give you one, Chanyeol. Sometimes you just need to step up and make these decisions on your own. Waiting around without doing anything about it is only going to make things worse.”
“Alright, well, here’s my decision, then,” Chanyeol snaps, standing up abruptly and pushing his chair in. “I’m not going to call him back, because I’m done with this whole thing. Now just drop it.”
He can hear Jongin calling after him as he makes his way out of the bar, but Chanyeol refuses to turn around. Once outside, he opens the door of the first vacant cab he can find and tells the driver to take him home.
During the drive home, Chanyeol takes out his phone and goes through his recent calls list; as expected, there’s a bunch of missed calls from Baekhyun – and one from Jongin, which must have come through a few minutes ago after he stormed out of the bar. He counts a grand total of 23 missed calls, and deletes every single one.
Chanyeol puts the phone away and goes back to looking out the window in silence. The cab driver seems to have nothing to add to the non-existent conversation, other than a terrible case of smoker’s cough and a brief comment on the weather.
While dragging his feet up the stairs to his apartment, Chanyeol takes his phone out of his pocket again and searches for Baekhyun’s number in his list of contacts. He stares at it until the digits seem to swim around in front of his eyes, and the pad of his thumb hovers just above the delete button, but somehow he can’t make himself go through with it. It just feels too final.
He isn’t quite ready for final. Not just yet.
Upon letting himself into his apartment, Chanyeol discovers a pale blue envelope lying on the floor in front of him. It’s a little crumpled, which seems to suggest that it was probably shoved somewhat hastily under the door. Looking around him, he bends down to pick it up and turns it over to see if it's addressed to anyone.
There is no name or address to be found; only the words 'just in case' written in neat cursive, followed by a single initial ‘B.’
Chanyeol carefully eases the envelope open, finding a single ticket inside, and nothing more. He squints at the information printed on the small slip of cardboard in his hands.
Mr. Mysterio. Saturday, June 30th at The Playhouse Bar. 9pm.
The next day, Chanyeol spends the entirety of his shift thinking about nothing but that ticket, and finds himself too distracted to bother making witty conversation with any of the listeners calling in.
Should I go? Should I not go?
What the hell should I do..?
A new call comes through and immediately snaps him back to reality.
"As always, don’t forget to text in your votes for Dr. Shorty’s Top 40. Hello, you're on the air," he drones robotically into the microphone.
There's silence on the other end of the line for a moment, followed by a bit of crackling.
Chanyeol sighs.
"If it’s permission you’re after, then you may speak,” he says, trying to sound as friendly and encouraging as possible, and failing miserably.
Still nothing.
He’s just about to move on to the next song on his playlist when a soft, throaty voice filters through his headphones.
"Yes. Hello, Dr. Shorty.”
A wide-eyed Chanyeol sits up straighter in his seat, recognising the voice instantly.
“Uh… hello… what can I play for you today..?”
“I'd like to request Here Comes The Sun, by The Beatles.”
“A very good choice. It’s an old favourite of mine.”
I should probably ask his name. I always ask for their names...
No. I can’t. I can’t do it.
“Yes, me too," the voice continues, "and… and I’d like to dedicate it to someone.”
Chanyeol hears more crackling, followed by more silence.
“Well… who’s the lucky person, then?”
He feels a bit stupid for asking – he’s 99% sure he already knows, after all -- but it’s standard procedure.
“He knows who he is,” comes the cryptic reply, and then the line goes dead.
“Well, obviously the only solution is to go,” Jongin declares matter-of-factly. He studies the ticket carefully one more time and passes it back across the table to Chanyeol.
Chanyeol buries his head in his hands. "Dammit. He really knows how to screw with my head, this guy. All it took was one little song request… and now the bloody ticket, as well. I really wanted to go to that show, too.”
Jongin shrugs. “I’ll go if you don’t want to.”
Chanyeol lifts his head and looks at Jongin skeptically. “Do you even know who Mr. Mysterio is..?”
“Not really. But a free ticket is a free ticket. No point letting it go to waste.”
“You can’t go in my place, Jongin. He’s expecting me to show up, not you..”
Jongin rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. “So go, then. Why do you always complicate things unnecessarily? Do I have to make another bet just to get you to do something for yourself..?”
"He’s a liar -- I'll just put it that way."
“You’ve seemed really happy lately, you know,” Jongin says, swallowing the last of his drink and pushing the empty glass aside. “The happiest I’ve seen you in a long time – at least until all of this happened, anyway."
"I know. But that's all over now, isn't it..?" Chanyeol says bitterly.
“Or maybe it isn’t.”
Chanyeol chews on his straw instead of replying.
“Just go to the damn show. Even if you don’t get back with him, at least give him a shot at making it up to you. He clearly wants to reconcile..”
“You don’t know what I know..”
“Maybe not. But I do know that you still love him in spite of what he’s done. You wouldn’t care so much about all of this if you didn’t. I can see it in your big dumb puppy-dog eyes, Yeol.”
Chanyeol thinks about this for a moment and then lets his head hit the table.
“Dammit, Jongin…”
“I’m right, aren’t I..?”
Chanyeol doesn’t reply. He doesn’t even lift his head up from the table, so Jongin uses him as an armrest for the remainder of the evening.
Chanyeol checks his watch for the hundredth time and taps his feet anxiously against his chair. He deliberately chose a seat towards the back of the room so he could keep an eye on the door, but Baekhyun has yet to show up.
Where is he? I’m supposed to be the one that’s always running late..
The Playhouse is pretty run-of-the-mill, usually – it’s renowned for hosting all the good live gigs, and has become somewhat popular with the trendy twenty-something crowd, but to Chanyeol it’s just another ordinary bar. Still, the place has been decked out properly for the show, set up with tables near the front, and multiple rows of chairs behind them. A grand piano sits at the centre of the stage.
Chanyeol looks around at the crowd, all of whom are better dressed than he is, and then looks down at his own rather casual outfit of black jeans and a checked shirt.
I am definitely not dressed for the occasion.
Baekhyun will probably show up looking amazing, as always..
Several minutes pass, and the seats around him begin to fill up with people chattering away excitedly to each other in hushed voices. Baekhyun is still nowhere to be seen.
Chanyeol glances at his watch again. Five to nine.
These things hardly ever run on time anyway, but still.
Where is he? They’ll probably close the doors soon.
He briefly considers calling Baekhyun, but pulling his phone from his pocket is as far as Chanyeol gets before changing his mind. He rests it on his knee instead, and soon afterwards it vibrates with a text notification.
‘I got caught up. Will be late – so sorry. If I don't get there in time, wait for me after the show? Looking forward to seeing you. – B.’
Chanyeol sighs and puts the phone back in his pocket, out of sight and mind. Being able to see it only makes him feel more on edge for some reason.
He’s still sitting alone when the lights in the room begin to dim, and a spotlight settles on the piano in the centre of the stage. The room seems to quite literally vibrate with anticipation, and then a figure dressed head-to-toe in white emerges from behind the curtains. He’s wearing a white peaked cap on his head, and a black mask with a curved beak that covers most of his face.
He walks silently across the stage, sits down at the piano and waits there for a moment – a long, silent moment that has everyone in the room whispering to each other. It makes Chanyeol fidget nervously in his seat for reasons he can’t explain.
Then Mr. Mysterio finally begins to play, and everyone immediately shuts up.
Every song he plays is more spectacular than the last. There are times when Chanyeol is so moved by the music that he’s almost in tears, and then there are others when the pianist makes the entire room laugh, despite never actually saying a word. It’s a brilliant show, even better than his last, but there’s still one thought in the back of Chanyeol’s mind that won’t let him enjoy it to the fullest.
I really wish Baekhyun was here to see this too.
Chanyeol keeps hoping that Baekhyun will suddenly materialise out of nowhere and sit down in the free seat next to him, and that they’ll be able to share the rest of this special evening together, but he doesn’t. And then before he knows it, Mr. Mysterio has gotten up off the bench and left the stage.
The show is over.
Everyone in the room gets to their feet at once and cheers loudly, clapping and stamping their feet and hollering for an encore. Chanyeol joins in, if a little half-heartedly. After a few minutes, Mr. Mysterio returns to the stage, holds up one finger to the audience, and resumes his seat at the piano.
Then he begins to play a song. A song Chanyeol has heard only once before.
That song…
No. It can’t be.
Baekhyun.
But it is. It’s the same song Baekhyun played for him in his bedroom that night. The one he composed himself.
At the end of the performance, the pianist stands up and turns around to face the audience, bowing to their applause. Although Chanyeol can’t see his face, he looks rather beautiful standing there; the dust particles lit up by the stage lights float around him like tiny snowflakes. He stares into the crowd, apparently searching for someone, and in the split second that their eyes meet Chanyeol swears he can see something; something that he recognizes, but cannot name. The tiniest sparkle; a little part of himself reflected right back at him.
Mr. Mysterio takes one final bow, but before he can leave, a man from the front row jumps up onto the stage and lunges at him, tearing the mask right off his face.
The entire audience grows silent.
“Was that supposed to happen..?” Chanyeol hears someone behind him whisper.
Before anyone has time to react, Baekhyun throws the man from the stage, and sends him flying halfway across the room like a crash test dummy. The man goes hurtling into the audience, collecting a bunch of tables and chairs, and colliding with the people seated on them.
The room becomes deathly, dangerously quiet, save for the pained groans emanating from the pile of battered people and splintered furniture.
Baekhyun stands in the centre of the stage, breathing heavily, with his mask hanging around his neck, his cap at his feet and his jacket askew. He directs those frightened-animal eyes in Chanyeol’s direction, so wide and black that they could swallow up the entire room and everything in it, and Chanyeol is instantly reminded of that fateful night all over again.
He can almost smell the blood.
Baekhyun turns on his heel and vanishes behind the velvet curtains, leaving behind him a room abuzz with confusion and chaos.
Security staff rush over to assist the injured, and Chanyeol can hear people around him whispering to each other.
“He could have killed that man..”
“What is he, some sort of mutant..?”
The whispers continue to ring in Chanyeol’s ears as he hurries towards the exit, their voices all muddled together in a stream of garbled nonsense that haunts him all the way to Baekhyun’s apartment.
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Date: 2014-04-25 06:14 pm (UTC)I had really been wondering how you were going to explain Taeyeon being a girl in Chanyeol's childhood, but a boy now! That was totally brilliant and unexpected! I love how you explained his heritage, too. I kind of wish you'd said something about whether his mom is still alive - I'm curious about her!! She obviously sacrificed a lot for her child!! Good mom!!
My heart broke just a little bit when Chanyeol announced to his listeners that today's show was brought to them by the letters L-I-A-R (not to mention blood sucker).
Thank God for how wise Jongin is!! Chanyeol is all "I hate him," but Jongin can see through that. Yay, Jongin!!
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Date: 2014-04-26 11:26 am (UTC)