where stars land | haobin

fifteen.

Hanbin spends the next couple of weeks trying to forget. As the chill of the tail end of winter fades into the coming spring, everything around him starts picking up; the studio starts calling him in for four practices a week instead of two, their teachers start getting on their cases about preparing for finals, even his friends are buckling down and getting serious. 

Hanbin notices when even Gyuvin, who's up till now consistently been that token friend who never studied but always aced their exams, starts actually writing notes instead of folding origami cranes in class. Matthew starts actually trying to stay awake in Mrs Kim's math class instead of utilising his so-called "daily allotted nap time". Ricky stops bringing his basketball to school, in favour of spending his afternoons holed up in the library with Gyuvin.

He's grateful for everything else going on in his life. Even on the days where he comes home from the studio past eleven at night exhausted to the bone, or in the afternoons where he has to stand up and take a break because he's been sitting at his desk for so long his legs are beginning to permanently cramp, or on the nights he has to go to the bathroom and wash his face because he's read so much his vision is glazing over. He'd do it all again if it meant he didn't have to face reality.

On quiet nights, as he lay in bed watching the spring breezes shake the trees out in the street, sometimes the clouds would part and he'd catch a glimpse of his soulmate star blinking slowly amidst the other stars in the sky, and for a moment he'd feel something, like ice so cold it felt warm, like longing so deep it felt like death.

Hanbin lived like this for weeks, looking over his shoulder at every turn, seeking solace in everything that could distract, putting his all into his day-to-day activities so he had nothing left to use on himself. He knew there were better ways to get around the problem, but he just couldn't find it in himself to turn around and face the monster that was creeping up on him.

He didn't know how long he'd run. Maybe it'd be weeks. Maybe months. There was a bitter sort of triumph in pretending his mind wasn't a house on fire.

"Hanbin-ah..."

"Hm?"

"You okay?"

Hanbin looks up from his notes, pushing his glasses up where they were starting to slide down the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, of course. Why are you asking?"

Matthew looks at him as if the harder he stared into his eyes the more he could see into Hanbin's mind. For a second, Hanbin worries that he can. "I don't know. Just asking." He continues writing for a while before looking back up. "You haven't really been talking about Hao much these days."

Hanbin gives him a little smile, though his eyebrows were furrowed. "Don't worry about me," he says. "I've just been occupied. Everything is fine."

He wonders if he's trying to convince Matthew, or himself. Turning his attention back to the papers in front of him, Hanbin tries to think about differential equations and nothing else at all.

As the days pass, Hanbin talks to Hao less and less. He tries to tell himself it isn't his fault. There's always just something that gets in his way; he's so tired from extra dance practice he falls asleep after his shower without even drying his hair, he's busy studying and puts his phone on silent mode so he doesn't get distracted, he tells himself he'll reply later and just forgets when later comes around. Blame it on the timezones, honestly. Hao mostly texts when Hanbin is asleep. He realises, on one of the Wednesday nights where he's unusually awake enough to look through the backlog of messages on his phone before he sleeps, that it's been two days since he last spoke to Zhanghao.

He hesitates for a moment, before opening their chat.

hao <3

goodnight, love

you sounded tired tonight.
are you sure you're getting
enough sleep?

just don't go for dance if
they're overworking you.
you're talented enough
you'll catch up anyway

good morningg

i found this new breakfast
place near me that sells
soup in the morning.

i'm sick of white people
sandwiches

[1 link attachment] look at
this omfg

...

From the thumbnail of the video, it looks to be some clip of a nature documentary about little crabs. Hanbin suddenly feels like he's too tired to read anymore.

goodnight!

He closes his eyes. Sleep comes easy to him these days, but he never seems to wake up feeling any less exhausted.