[exo] the steps in between (and the lessons learnt); yixing-centric; yixing/lu han; pg; [2/2]
part one;;-
Jonghyun’s injured. He tears his ligament and twists his ankle during a concert in Indonesia. That piece of news would mean nothing to Yixing-except he’s chosen to dance in Jonghyun’s place at SHINee’s upcoming concerts in Tokyo and Seoul.
“You’ll have two months before the first performance to learn all the dances. You’ll learn individually, but you’ll need to rehearse with SHINee to synchronise the moves and formations. We chose you because we think you’ve shown the most dedication in practise. Don’t let us down.”
Yixing doesn’t know how to feel. It’s a misfortune for Jonghyun, and he shouldn’t feel so ecstatic, because someone got hurt, but it’s an opportunity to stand on stage, an opportunity to show off the effort he’s put into dancing, and-
Yixing postpones sorting out his feelings and focusses on learning the choreography instead.
“Congratulations,” Wu Fan says, thumping him on the back when he comes back from the first day of speed-memorising choreography, tired and ready to collapse from exhaustion. “You deserve it.”
“Yeah,” Lu Han adds, looping an arm around Yixing’s neck. “Aww, our cute baby Xingtuo, getting to stand onstage with SHINee. How do you feel? Happy?”
“Tired,” Yixing says, grinning as he gives Lu Han a gentle shove and plops face-down on Lu Han’s bed. He stretches out, groaning and rolling over to make space for Lu Han when Lu Han whacks his butt. “Ow. The concert’s in December. There’s a lot to learn, and I’ve only got two months to get it right.”
“But it’s one step closer to debut, right?” Lu Han says. “It means the company wants to keep you. And you do deserve it.” He grins. “Soon you’ll have fans screaming your name. Yixing-ge! You’re so handsome! Be mine! Marry me!” Lu Han makes kissy faces at Yixing, and Yixing rolls his eyes and pushes Lu Han’s face away.
“You two are ridiculous,” Wu Fan grumbles from his bed. “Now shut up so I can go to sleep.”
“Fanfan needs his beauty sleep,” Lu Han mock whispers. Wu Fan’s eyebrow twitches. Lu Han smiles back angelically.
“Lulu doesn’t want to live,” Yixing mock whispers back. He grins and rolls off Lu Han’s bed and onto his own before Wu Fan starts lecturing them on the benefits of sleep for the skin. “But really, thank you. And good night.”
(十) appreciation.
Back when Yixing was a little more naïve, he used to think that he deserved everything he got. He was on TV after all, a bit famous in his hometown, and a little star in the high school he attended. When he settled back at school after Star Academy, there would be girls who’d come up to him, blushing and red-faced, holding out chocolates and letters of confession. His teachers would sometimes excuse him or be more lenient to him when he failed to finish the homework they set. When he went to the markets with his mother, the ladies at the stalls would recognise him and gush over how cute he was and give him things for free. He’d once gone online, searched his name, and found floods of messages on his Baidu Bar, his own little fanbase, offering support and cheering him on.
It was satisfying. Just for a while, he thought that he was someone special; that the attention and treatment he was getting was just something that he was entitled to.
Now, he knows different. Now, he knows that nobody in the world is entitled to anything. Nothing is ever a given. Everything has to be worked for.
Yixing had a period of inactivity when his voice started changing. Six months, a year, two years off the screen, and people started forgetting. The novelty of his ‘celebrity’ status died down, and everything went back to the way it was before. His fancafe members started dropping, from a hundred, to fifty, to ten, to a lonely five. He was forgotten.
There’s a fan Yixing remembers in particular. Her name’s Tang Tang, and she’d been a member of the Bar for five years, keeping it alive and running at its lowest point, and Yixing was grateful for that. When Yixing had gone back to Changsha to perform for his school’s anniversary this year, she’d gone all the way to airport to see him off to Korea.
“Is training difficult?” she’d asked, and he’d decided to be honest. It was tiring. There was a lot of competition. He needed to work harder. She’d simply looked at him sadly and told him to take care of his body and make sure that he didn’t push himself too hard.
Yixing had been struck silent with wonder. Here was this girl, a girl he’d only met a couple of times, with absolutely no relation to him, who’d watched over him and cared about him for so many years, even though he hadn’t done anything since Star Academy. Four years of absence and nothing to show, and she was still supporting him.
This was support that he didn’t deserve.
“I’m curious about something,” he’d said, leaning in. “Why would you keep supporting me all this time?"
Tang Tang had frozen. She said nothing for a long time. Yixing had waited, anxious, feeling a sinking sensation in his heart, because he knew all along that he had nothing worthy about him. But then, she’d crumpled up the empty snack packet in her hand and looked up at him and smiled. “Because you’re worth supporting for this long. Because you're Zhang Yixing. There doesn’t need to be any other reason.”
It was then that Yixing learnt appreciation. He’d bowed to Tang Tang as his flight had been called, arms tucked to his sides, a full ninety degrees.
“Thank you. Thank you.”
Yixing had made a promise to himself to return to Korea and work harder than he’d done before. He couldn’t let his fans’ time and effort go to waste. He couldn’t take it for granted. If he wanted to be loved, if he wanted to continue receiving Tang Tang’s support, then he had to keep working.
Yixing gets incredibly busy with dance rehearsals. He doesn't even need to try to lose weight now; practise is so gruelling that he simply forgets to eat. Wu Fan looks genuinely worried for Yixing when he crawls back to the dorms at odd hours in the morning, falling straight into bed without even showering, but doesn’t say anything past a gentle reminder to take care of himself.
“You stink,” Lu Han says in the morning. It’s like he’s Yixing’s personal alarm. “Go shower, Xingtuo.” Lu Han yanks Yixing’s blankets off and tries to pull Yixing’s pants off, at which Yixing kicks Lu Han and rolls out of bed and stumbles into the shower.
When Yixing comes back to the dorms early for once, deciding to reward himself with a break for remembering the steps to all the dances, he goes on his Baidu Bar to see the new posts. Wu Fan’s in bed reading some funky English book about adolescent blues. Lu Han’s lying on his stomach on his bed kicking his legs and fiddling with his Rubik’s cube. He watches over Yixing’s shoulder as Yixing sits on the floor with his laptop and scrolls through the pages.
“Aw, your fanclub?” he asks, resting his chin on Yixing’s head. Yixing nods. “How many people?”
“About fifty, I think,” Yixing says.
“The number of girls who confessed to me,” Lu Han says, chuckling, and Yixing rolls his eyes and reaches behind himself to whack Lu Han on the arm, a little too hard. The cube flies out of Lu Han’s hands and lands on Wu Fan’s bed.
“Sorry.” Yixing grins as Wu Fan picks up the cube and inspects it, then sticks it under his blankets and arches an eyebrow at Lu Han, as if challenging him to come and get it.
“Look, Fanfan’s being mean again,” Lu Han complains. He goes over to Wu Fan and tries to stick a hand down Wu Fan’s blankets. “I hope you haven’t been...having fun down there because I don’t want that all over my cube.”
“What are you even thinking,” Wu Fan says, giving Lu Han a judging look and taking the cube out. He throws it onto Lu Han’s bed. “You are so bad. I hope none of those girls worked out for you.”
Lu Han sighs. “I rejected them all. It’s a pity, some of them were cute too.” He smiles, patting Wu Fan’s legs through the blanket. “But I wanted to become a singer more.”
(十一) sacrifice.
Yixing had left her behind, too.
Actually, she’d broken up with him first, saying that it was for his own good. His dream was to be a singer, and she would only distract him and make him unhappy for giving it up.
“But I want to stay with you,” he’d said, and he’d meant it. He wasn’t even certain about Korea anyway. Looking back, it was a little bit infatuation, but he was really willing to reject SM to stay in Changsha and audition for Super Boy later in the year if it meant he could stay with her.
“No,” she’d said firmly. “Go to Korea. You shouldn’t miss this chance. Go there and fulfil your dreams. Who cares about me,” and she’d deleted her number from his phone and defriended him on RenRen and played stranger to him at school. It must’ve hurt her at that time too, probably more than it had hurt him, but it had stabbed Yixing right where it hurt, and Yixing had reluctantly packed his luggage for Korea.
They saw each other for the last time at the boarding gates of the airport. Yixing had felt his heart jump to his throat when he’d scanned the crowd one last time and saw her waving at him through the glass.
“I couldn’t help it,” she’d shouted over the crowd. “I’m sorry, Yixing, for doing this. I love you. Good luck in Korea. I’ll wait for you and watch over from afar. When you come back-and if you still want me-I’ll be here. But for now, forget about me.”
Yixing can’t forget. He goes back to Changsha the next year, and the glass wall of the boarding gates remind him too much of her. He stays up for a whole week composing, pouring into one song all of his feelings. He sends her the finished song.
Oh baby, we said to let go, but I don’t want to be like this, alone. The one who can’t let go of love is me; I want to become your protector.
He gets one text in reply: your singing has gotten better. keep going. 加油.
It’s bittersweet.
Occasionally, Yixing will still think of her. When he hears a Jay Chou song. When he sees rainbow scarves. When he smells lavender. Sometimes Yixing can’t bear it and goes on RenRen and clicks on her profile, hoping to see some updates. It always hurts to see, framed in a big red box, Access Denied.
lonly, he types one night, lying in bed and feeling heartsick and homesick. He updates his status. His phone buzzes two minutes later and he clicks on the notification hurriedly, thinking maybe, maybe-
Lu Han: 你蛋疼不？~
“Yes,” Yixing says quietly into the darkness, as he hears Lu Han muffle a snort in his pillow. “Yes, Lu Han, my balls do hurt, thank you.”
“Glad to know,” Lu Han says. “Hey, Fanfan, you awake? I think you should teach Xingtuo how to spell. L-O-N-L-Y. So ‘lonly’!”
“Shut the fuck up and go to sleep,” Wu Fan says irritably. Lu Han makes an indignant sound.
“Language, Fanfan!”
“Yeah, I know four of them,” Wu Fan deadpans.
“Showoff.”
Yixing finds himself smiling, despite his heavy heart. It’s strange. Just a few months ago, he’d been telling himself not to get too close to anyone. He doesn’t know when it happened, but at some stage, he’d really started thinking of Wu Fan and Lu Han as his best friends. Maybe it’s because they’re a little slice of China in Korea, but he honestly, truly cares for them. He tries to list reasons he should distance himself from them, not trust them, and he finds absolutely none.
“Hey? Wu Fan? Lu Han?” Yixing says. Wu Fan gives a grunt. Lu Han hums. Something swells in Yixing’s chest, and the embarrassing words spill out before he can take them back. “I love you.”
“You are so lovesick. Okay, let’s get married. Wu Fan, you be best man.”
“No thanks. Now shut up and go to sleep.”
“Yes, Fanfan.”
(十二) composing.
Yixing starts learning piano during Star Academy. He starts learning guitar after his voice breaks, and also because there’s no piano in the school dormitories. He’s not particularly good at either of them, but he keeps trying and trying and eventually he gets better. Anyway, he thinks, both are better ways to spend his time than studying.
He learns how to read music and the difference between treble clef and bass clef, sharps and flats, major and minor. Harmonic. Melodic. Blues. Pentatonic. Three chord progressions and four chord progressions. Music is a different language, and there’s a lot to learn.
Yixing also keeps a lyric book. Whenever he thinks of something, he jots it down and goes back to his room and picks up the guitar and turns it into a song. Some of the songs work. Most don’t.
He records them anyway and burns them to a CD.
Yixing gets no rest during holiday season. He flies to Tokyo on Christmas, and back to Korea over the New Year, accompanying SHINee on their concert tour. It’s a busy two weeks, but the two months of late nights and practises and trying to talk to the SHINee members in broken Korean pays off when he’s nudged to the front at the end of the Seoul concert and Jonghyun introduces him as “a trainee at our company, please look forward to his debut.” Suddenly, his Baidu Bar sees an increase in popularity, and there are people talking about him, and pictures of him uploaded on the internet, and it’s all so strange but so exciting and so satisfying.
“I saw videos of the concert,” his mother gushes over the phone. “I’m so proud of you. Oh! I read online that SM’s releasing a group this year? Will you be in it?”
“I...don’t know,” Yixing answers helplessly. He wonders how he’d missed that piece of news-but then again, he hasn’t been with the other trainees for a while. “I’m sorry, I’ll tell you as soon as I find out.”
The director calls a bunch of trainees into the briefing room the day after.
“Congratulations,” he says. “You’ve been chosen to be in the lineup for SM’s newest project. We’ll be upping your practise load from now.”
Yixing looks at Lu Han. Lu Han’s has a look of happy disbelief on his face. Wu Fan looks stoic, as always, but Yixing sees the corners of his lips turn upwards and his fists clench in victory.
“We’re debuting?” a boy asks, wide-eyed. Yixing tries to recall his name. Gwangsoo? Kyungsoo? “Are we really?”
“Yes, in the same group,” the director says. “So try to get to know each other. You’ll all have extra Chinese classes, because we’ll be sending half of you to promote in China. Except you Chinese trainees, of course,” he finishes, motioning to Wu Fan, Lu Han, Yixing and an intimidating-looking trainee Yixing doesn’t think he’s met yet. They must’ve joined when he was busy with concert preparations.
“His name’s Zitao,” Lu Han whispers, seeing Yixing’s puzzled face. “He’s new. He knows Wushu.”
The director claps his hands. “Practise hard. This isn’t final. We’ll tell you when the final lineup is decided.” He waves them off.
Yixing watches as the others file out of the room, one by one. Other than obviously Wu Fan and Lu Han, and also Jongin and Sehun who he sometimes has dance practise with, he’s not close to any of the other chosen trainees.
“China?” Yixing hears one of them mutter. “I don’t want to go to China...”
Yixing wonders how fortunate they will be.
(十三) culture shock.
The language’s different. The food’s different. The hand signals are different. Yixing keeps in the back of his mind, but occasionally he makes the mistake of forgetting honorifics in his sentences, ignoring things because he doesn’t understand, not bowing ninety degrees-and an older trainee had taken offense at that.
“Fucking Chinaman,” he’d spat out. Yixing grits his teeth. Han Geng’s lawsuit hadn’t helped any of the Chinese trainees. They were already a minority. Now they were just regarded with suspicion; those Chinese. “You gotta show respect to your elders in Korea. Fuck. Don’t understand how it works here, do you?”
Yixing wants to say something biting back, but he thinks, and he’d rather not start a fight and be kicked out. “Mianhamnida,” he says instead, bowing ninety degrees. “I’m sorry. I'll remember next time.”
Wu Fan’s watching silently from the corner of the room. He comes up to Yixing after the trainee leaves, throwing a dirty towel at Yixing’s on the way out. "Don't take shit from them," he says quietly in Chinese. "Forget about it. We've got to be strong. Stand up for ourselves, yeah?"
"Yeah," Yixing says, feeling a horrible churning in his stomach.
It was going to be a hard fight.
Members are added. Members are dropped. Members are called to the army. Members quit. The company holds several emergency strategy meetings, because things evidently have not gone to plan, and the initial plan is down the drain. Yixing simply keeps practising. There’s no use worrying over things that he has no control over.
It’s not until July that things are sorted out.
“You twelve have made the final lineup for EXO,” the director says. “This is Kim Jongdae. He joined last week, and he'll be replacing Yang Wei as main vocalist for the Mandarin subgroup. Make him welcome.”
“Hi,” Jongdae says, bowing to the other eleven members nervously when the director leaves the room. “I’m Jongdae.”
“You’ll be with us? Can you speak Chinese?” Lu Han asks, leaning on Yixing's shoulder. Jongdae shakes his head. “Can you dance?” Jongdae shakes his head again and laughs sheepishly.
“I've...never really tried. My coordination isn't very good,” he confesses, and Yixing finds himself grinning.
“It's probably better than Wu Fan's,” he says, smiling toothily up at Wu Fan. Wu Fan shoots him a dirty look. Lu Han muffles a giggle. “Our new leader here has too many left feet.”
“That's enough,” Wu Fan growls, clapping a hand over Yixing's mouth. “This one here talks too much. Be careful of these two.” He motions to Lu Han and Yixing. Jongdae nods slowly.
“Do you know what you're meant to do?” Joonmyun asks suddenly. Jongin looks on with interest, standing quietly at the back, arms folded.
“I sing, right?” Jongdae answers hesitantly. “I was scouted for singing...so...I’ll sing?” He looks kind of lost, like he's suddenly been thrust into an upside down world, and there are a new set of laws. Yixing's reminded of when he'd first entered the company. There’s no way Jongdae is not feeling overwhelmed.
“Not quite,” Joonmyun says. There's a tiny hint of bitter resignation lacing his voice, and, Yixing thinks, nibbling on his lower lip, for good reason. Joonmyun had trained tirelessly for seven years. Having a new recruit make the cut so easily was injustice.
“Not...just that?”
“We sing. But we dance and act and look pretty too,” Lu Han offers, “and we follow rules. We listen to everything the company says. Right?”
Everyone in the room nods. It's about as accurate as it gets. Jongdae gulps.
“Anyway, we're one group now. We’re going to debut together. We have to work together.” Wu Fan smiles. Yixing tries not to snort. Wu Fan looks more like he’s pulling a grimace. It probably scares Jongdae more than it comforts him.
“And it's only going to get harder from here,” Jongin says softly.
The room falls silent.
(十四) teamwork.
The contestants had been divided into two teams on Star Academy. Red for the boys, and blue for the girls. Every week, each team would have to prepare a team performance, which meant working together, even though they were competing against each other individually.
“Don’t think of them as competition,” Yixing’s grandmother, always the wise one, had said. “Don’t spend time thinking you have to beat them. Don’t get too greedy. Work together. You just need to do your best you can, put in 100% of your effort, and the results will speak for themselves.”
It's kind of different, but still the same in SM. Every quarter, the company holds an assessment to judge the trainees’ progress. The thing is, all the performances are to be done in teams. It's meant to drill into their heads the importance of working together, because they’re all training to be in groups, and they’ll need this skill, but none of the trainees pay any real attention. Each of them work for their own benefit.
The group Yixing was put in thought it would be a good idea to just flat out refuse to help each other learn the steps. They all wanted to be the best in the group. Yixing knew from experience that it was a bad idea, but he goes along with it anyway, because he has that tiny sliver of greed in his heart.
One trainee forgets the formations on the day, because they hadn’t rehearsed together enough. Yixing panics and comes in too early. They get the lowest score.
Even now, Yixing thinks, his grandmother had been right.
The debut confirmation is good news for everyone. Yixing’s Baidu Bar steadily grows, new people joining every day. Wu Fan runs into the toilet early one morning after a phone call comes through. Yixing overhears the conversation through the walls anyway. It’s Wu Fan’s father, the father Wu Fan hasn’t talked to for five years, and he’s calling up to congratulate them. Wu Fan comes out of the toilet with puffy eyes, but he’s smiling, and not one of his fake grimace-smiles.
Lu Han’s parents call too.
“What did they say?” Yixing asks, when Lu Han comes back into the room, silent. A shaky smile spreads on Lu Han’s lips.
“They’re-they’re happy for me,” Lu Han says, in a tone that sounds like he almost doesn’t believe it himself. “They said that they were sorry for not believing in me. They unfroze my bank account, and called up the university today to pay my debts and confirm my enrolment deferment.” He sits down at the foot of the bed, looking at his shaking hands. “Yixing, I-”
“-come on,” Yixing says, putting on a coat. He drags Lu Han up by the arm. They had the afternoon off, and Yixing wasn’t spending it here. “This deserves a celebration. I’m shouting you icecream.”
Lu Han drips the icecream on Yixing’s shirt by accident. They decide they have enough time to go shirt shopping. They end up splurging on matching MCM backpacks instead.
“600,000 won,” Wu Fan says when he reads the price tag on Yixing’s bag. Yixing slaps himself mentally. Damn Lu Han and his persuasion. That had been almost all of the spending money in his Korean account. “Wow. Remind me to never let you two go shopping with my credit card, ever, hmm?”
(十五) strength.
strength /streNG(k)TH/ (noun)
1. the quality or state of being strong, in particular.
2. physical power and energy: "cycling can help you build up your strength".
3. what yixing (aged 5) thought his father had, seeing him lift up two watermelons in one hand.
4. what yixing (aged 17) thought his family gave him when he was feeling helpless and lost.
5. what yixing (age 19) thinks both lu han and wu fan embody, because lu han is resilient and quick-witted and high-spirited, and wu fan is reliable and sturdy and mature, and if enduring trainee life in a foreign country without their parents’ support isn’t strength, then yixing isn’t sure what is.
Yixing pulls his waist while rehearsing the choreography for his solo teaser. He’s feeling slightly feverish, and it’s probably a bad idea to continue, but he’s been assigned the position of lead dancer and he needs to meet everyone’s expectations.
He’s attempting a Nike when he feels his vision blur and his hand slip and he lands painfully on his back, a sharp pain shooting through his side.
It’s Lu Han who finds him in the room, burning up and breathing hard, leaning against the mirror for support. It’s Lu Han who panics and calls Jongdae in from the vocal studio, motioning for him to help carry Yixing to the hospital. It’s Lu Han who calls the company to tell them where they are, who stays the whole night by Yixing’s hospital bed, making sure that Yixing’s okay.
“Oh, Yixing, you’re alive,” Lu Han says when Yixing wakes up. Yixing groans as he sits up. There’s an IV drip in his arm. “You’re an idiot. You pulled your waist. Who told you to dance while you had a fever?”
“I-” Yixing blinks. Now he looks, Lu Han has bags under his eyes. “Were you here the whole night?”
“I was worried,” Lu Han mutters. “You weren’t breathing properly. I thought you were going to die,” he jokes weakly. “If you die, my life will get so boring. I’ll be left alone with Peachy and Fanfan, and they’re not nearly as fun to bully as you.”
Yixing grins, then groans when he moves and feels the pain shooting up his side again. “Is that all I am to you?”
“A perfect little punching bag,” Lu Han says. Yixing frowns and reaches behind him with the arm from his good side and hurls a pillow at Lu Han. Lu Han catches it and mock-brandishes it at Yixing, at the exact moment a nurse walks in.
Lu Han’s kicked out of the room for being ‘dangerous and disturbing to the patient’. Yixing can’t stop laughing.
(十六) surgery.
Yixing remembers the first time he’d been in hospital. When he was twelve going on thirteen, the back of his throat had inexplicably started swelling up and blocking off his voice. He’d gotten it checked up. It was an enlarged tonsil.
“Get it removed,” his father had persuaded, “or you might not be able to sing as well in the future.” The doctor had suggested otherwise, but his father was adamant.
There was a surgery. They couldn’t stop the bleeding. Yixing went into shock.
He remembers opening his eyes and seeing his father’s face hovering over his in the white haze of the hospital room. He remembers despising his father for a week afterwards, because his life had been put on the line for an unnecessary surgery-but, he realised when he saw his father break down in thankful tears, that it had been for his own good. Yixing loved to sing. His father was just worried that his enlarged tonsils would take away the thing that gave him the most happiness.
“It’s okay, dad,” he’d said, hugging his father tightly, tears streaming down his own face. “I’m alive, aren’t I? And still I have my voice. I’ll sing for the family again, when I’m better. I’ll stand on stage and sing for you.”
Yixing’s fans from China come to Korea for his birthday. They give him presents, clothes, a cake, things Yixing aren’t expecting, and Yixing’s speechless. He hasn’t even officially debuted yet; he has nothing to show, and yet they’ve still put in so much thought into his birthday.
“I don’t know how to repay you,” he says. “Thank you. Thank you.”
“Everyone’s just hoping for you to debut quickly now,” Tang Tang says.
“Me too,” Yixing says. He scrambles up from his seat. He might be a bit broke now, but he could still be courteous. “Hey, how about I go buy you guys a bottled drink? I can afford that.”
Lu Han’s grinning with his hands hidden behind his back when Yixing comes back to the dorm, carrying a bunch of presents. Yixing arches an eyebrow as Lu Han moves towards him, putting the presents down on his bed and backing away suspiciously.
“What are you doing?”
“Happy birthday,” Lu Han says, pulling a black hat on Yixing’s head and over his eyes, blocking his vision. “It’s been a year and a half since I've met you. I think it’s time this hat found its way back to its rightful owner.”
“Hey-” Yixing starts, seeing nothing but black. He tries to pull the hat back up, but Lu Han yanks it back down and leads him out of the room by the arm.
“I’ve got something to show you.”
(十七) birthdays.
Yixing had spent his first to sixteenth birthdays with his parents and grandparents and friends in Changsha.
Yixing had spent his seventeenth birthday in the practise room, alone.
Yixing had spent his eighteenth birthday eating meatball soup with Wu Fan. It was the only Chinese food they could find still available at three in the morning.
Yixing had spent his nineteenth birthday writing songs. They're not happy ones.
Yixing spends his twentieth birthday getting cake smeared over his face by the future members of EXO, because what Lu Han’s dragged him to is actually a surprise party.
“Make a wish,” Lu Han says, holding a candle in front of Yixing’s face. Yixing closes his eyes and puffs.
I wish for EXO’s success.
The company tells them they’ll debut in April next year. They record all the songs in late October. They film all the teasers and music videos in November. Their first teaser is released in December.
The response is overwhelming. New SM Boyband Revealed! The articles are released like wildfire.
Lu Han shoots for a magazine with Jongin and Sehun. Soon, there’s news about this ‘Rubix cube cutie Lu Han’ floating around on the Baidu Bars as well, and Yixing shows it off to Lu Han, beaming with pride.
“We’re really debuting,” Lu Han breathes incredulously, scrolling through the Bar. “Yixing, look at this. It’s an article about you.”
In SM’s New Group, There is an Old Acquaintance, the title reads. The reporters had interviewed his high school teachers. Yixing feels a burst of nostalgia.
“We’ll be back in China soon,” Lu Han murmurs after a moment of silence, seeing Yixing’s face. “April. We’ll be back in just two more months.”
Yixing nods. In two more months, they’ll be standing on the stage in front of thousands of people. In two more months, they’ll be on a plane to Beijing, nervous anticipation in their hearts, finally, finally debuting.
Yixing looks at Lu Han and smiles fondly. Here was this stranger he didn’t know two years ago, now one of his best friends and bandmate. They’d gone through the ups and downs of trainee life together, and emerged out the other side victorious.
Just two more months.
(永远) endings.
In a story, there’s always an ending. The story starts at point A, things happen, and there’s a finish at point B. It’s easy to flippantly categorise what happens in between as happy and sad, but really, people are not that simple, and emotions are not black and white. There are thousands of in-betweens. Millions of shades.
See, life itself is a collection of these shades, these moments, joined together to create a story, which is part of that wider web, that history, that anthology. It’s for this reason that endings don’t really matter, because nothing ever really ends.
Honestly, it’s not about where the story begins and where it ends. It's not point A or point B that's important, but process. The experience.
The steps in between, and the lessons learnt.
Strictly speaking, this story ends here-but Yixing’s story doesn’t. Yixing's story will go on.
(新) beginnings.
It’s ten minutes before their debut showcase.
“You ready?” Lu Han asks, taking his spot next to Yixing. Yixing nods and smiles. He’s dressed, made up, and he runs through the dance moves one last time in his head.
“Good luck,” Wu Fan says. “Don’t be nervous. We can do this. Just like we rehearsed.”
Yixing closes his eyes. He thinks back to ten years ago, dancing and singing for his family, dreaming of large audiences applauding him. Nine years ago, when he barely understood what he was doing, just knew he loved the stage, knew he loved performing. Eight years ago, discovering the joys of Chinese opera. Seven years ago, placing third in Star Academy. Six years ago, receiving confessions from red-cheeked girls, and falling for a girl himself. Five years ago, lamenting his voice break and lamenting the horrors of studying. Four years ago, getting scouted by SM, and almost not going because of her. Three years ago, feeling lonely and homesick and depressed. Two years ago, being chosen for SHINee’s concert. One year ago, waiting in the director’s room as they were told they’d made the final cut. All the happy and unhappy experiences, the swelling crests of hope and the crashing disappointments. The things he learnt along the way. Each of these shaped him into the person standing backstage now, and he's thankful.
“One minute to go. Standby.”
Yixing opens his eyes. It used to be a hopeful, wishful, unreachable dream ten years ago, but now he can almost touch it; brush his fingertips over the barely tangible form, and Yixing thinks it’s enough to keep him going.
The expectations of his parents, his grandparents, his fans, EXO, and himself rest on his shoulders. The weight is heavy, but he doesn’t feel burdened. The burden can be shared, because there’s a light at the end of the road, and the twelve members are walking towards it together. The road’s long, and it’s sure to be full of obstacles, but there’s a light, there’s a goal, and there’s that one dream which has pulled him through these ten years.
Zhang Yixing, that loud, carefree boy, was finally going to make his debut. Not as a child, skipping around the stage with innocent playfulness-but as an adult.
The stage lights turn on. It’s not the end, but the beginning of another story.
Yixing just needs to walk into the light and never look back.
(完 | end)
(开始 | begin)
a/n: accomplishment because not porn! but still pointless. and...parts of this true and parts i have taken many creative liberties with (you can figure out which parts they are n___n). thank you potaoto for giving this a read-over and betaing ;; lol i’m sorry this kind of started off as yixing/lu han but then...chinaline ot3 and yixing feelings in general just took over. and if you ever feel the need to concrit you can do so anonymously here :3
oh just in case anyone is interested! here is an interactive timeline i made…of…yixing’s life with all his predebut videos (but it also has pretty much every single exo-m activity on it as well, with links to subbed videos and summaries lol wailt). over here or rebloggable here on tumblr (courtesy of fenshen n__n)! yeah it took...a while to compile everything lol ;~~~~;
too many yixing feelings this precious unicorn.