Happens to be Zhang

chapter 6

Morning comes with an avalanche of emotional emails. He sifts through them with a cup of steaming hot chocolate topped with grey marshmallows made in the shape of a seal. Those were gifts from a fan, and the only one he decided to take home from his publication office. That reminds him, has his PD decided to go on an unplanned, unsaid vacation? He wonders what is that man doing, as he clicks on one of the emails, skimming through the grateful contents. 

He clicks out and gets up, just about to log out when his eyes fall on an email with the subject written in bold text. About the TV adaptation of I’ll walk you to the star’s end. 

Xiaochen’s heart stops for a moment, and he stumbles back into the chair, blinking and blinking and blinking, hoping that email would be a figment of his imagination. But the image gets stuck on his eyelids and he sees it each time he sucks in a breath.

//

It’s seven thirty in the morning, and Weiwei slaps the back of Xiaochen's head when he uses the wrong sieve holes for an oreo frappe. There’s now an equal amount of oreo crumbs and the frappe colloid. 

“Get your phone out of your eyes and fucking focus here!” She hisses under her breath before turning to the poor student who is getting late for school waiting for his oreo frappe. She apologises once, then cranes her neck down the line to see it grow and take the form of a basilisk. There are more customers than usual, and it throws her off her axis. 

The second barista has his hands full with making all the caffeinated drinks, and Xiaochen is doing a horrendous job of manning the counter. It’s not until eight thirty that the rush dies and he regains a sixteenth of his usual intellectual presence. He doesn’t look up when someone orders an americano with five shots of espresso, punching the numbers, tearing a receipt and sending a screen copy to the display monitor on the back of the counter to Ian. 

“Thank you for ordering. Your order will be ready shortly. You can have a seat, and we shall call you when your drink is ready.” Xiaochen bows his already bowed head a little more.  “Or you could browse our selection of cheesecakes—”

“What are you thinking?” Hanzhang’s baritone makes Xiaochen snap up. The man is smirking, forearm flat on the counter and the one arm holding his chin up. His lips are curled in a lopsided smile, and there seems to be something different about him today. But before Xiaochen can proceed to scan his face, he points over his shoulder. 

“You wouldn’t have missed a chance to gawk at him,” Hanzhang says. The guitarist is sitting on a table, sipping a flat white. He is laughing, and his smile seems awful. High cheekbones, deep dimples and hair that moves in sync with his bobbing head. There are two other boys with him, one with a lotus tattooed on his neck and the other with a crisp white shirt who looks like he confirms the conservative society’s fashion rules. 

Xiaochen quickly realises he only liked that guy because of his morose expression. 

“You are late,” he says quickly, diverting the topic back to Hanzhang. “And there’s something different about you. I can’t say what though.” 

“Really? Look again.” Hanhang smiles. It crinkles his eyes. 

Xiaochen purses his lips. “You slept for eight hours yesternight.” 

“Four, but the same sentiment.” The man positively beams glitters and sparkles. 

A thought sparks Xiaochen's head. "You are a lawyer, aren't you? Then, can you know if something is legal or a scam?" 

"Are you finally interested in my job?" Hanzhang leans further towards the counter, until he is practically breathing on the man's face. He doesn't seem to know any boundaries, but just today, Xiaochen finds that adorable. Or adorably weird. Adorably nasty. Maybe just plain nasty.