Chp2

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July 14th, 1pm.

about five days later, chanyeol found himself at lunch with namjoon, them two sharing gentle conversation over sandwiches and coffee, when namjoon suddenly went, “stop thinking of that damned stripper, man.”

chanyeol blinked once, twice, thrice, and then went, “w-what?”

a laugh, and then, “I can tell. after you went on about him that night, I thought you were just drunk, but you’ve got that same foggy look in your eyes. he’s just a stripper.” chanyeol looked up at him, and namjoon was looking at him with eyes that chanyeol couldn’t quite read. “you’re probably never going to see him again.”

chanyeol chewed on his upper lip, and looked back to his sandwich. not unless i go back to the club.

namjoon read him like an open book, and it pissed chanyeol off. “don’t you dare go back there. what are you going to do? creepily watch him and hope he notices you? sneak into his dressing room after one of his performances? y’know, that’s how serial killers are made.”

maybe he was right. chanyeol laughed, and nodded, “okay, okay.” he was right.

———

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