Chapter Text
Another month passes and suddenly there are only less than three weeks until finals. They’re filming the last elimination to announce the finalists today, and Quanzhe won rock paper scissors against enough times to choose a later slot for hair and makeup. The stylists finish up with him right as they’re told to start heading to the filming location, and he changes into his uniform quickly before joining the flow of people.
“I got Zhengting-ge to do a Weibo live with me earlier,” Ollie appears out of nowhere and nudges Quanzhe. “He kept asking if you were coming to join us. Maybe you’re placing first again today.”
“I don’t think he would’ve kept asking for me if I am,” Quanzhe grimaces.
“Oh well,” Ollie shrugs. “At least now you’re mentally prepared?”
“Thanks, I guess,” Quanzhe says.
“You’re welcome!” Ollie says cheerfully before walking off to join his team from the third performance.
Ollie may have prepared Quanzhe for his ranking today, but Quanzhe thinks he would’ve appreciated it more if the younger boy had warned him how gorgeous Zhengting looks today instead. Quanzhe wonders if his breath is just going to catch every time he sees Zhengting now, but he’s not complaining, not really. Zhengting’s hair has grown even longer, blonde streaks through what’s now a light brown, styled into a preppy hairstyle that makes him look so handsome Quanzhe doesn’t know how everyone else isn’t falling at his feet.
As expected, Quanzhe places second again today, though it’s to birthday boy Jiang Xinxi and Quanzhe thinks he could let him have it. Really though, he knows it’s because his team didn’t receive bonus votes for the third performance, which he is shocked to realize was over four months ago. He’s still not satisfied with being second - he doesn’t think that’s a good thing, to be satisfied with being second, and he hopes he won’t ever be, but he’s better about accepting it now. After all, it’s not the end yet.
“Now everyone can say goodbye to the contestants who have been eliminated,” Zhengting says after all the rankings have been announced, and the finalists rush past him to jump off the stage. Quanzhe waits until the stage clears and walks down the steps to Zhengting’s side instead, watching everyone huddled in their little groups.
Out of the corner of his eye, Quanzhe sees Zhengting turn to him with a laugh. Probably something about how everyone’s acting like they won’t see each other ever again, even though everyone knows the eliminated contestants will still be invited to finals.
“I used to be offstage too,” Quanzhe says. Perhaps it’s because Zhengting had spoken earlier about how he didn’t succeed on his first survival show and only made it his second time around. Perhaps it’s seeing Boyhood say goodbye to Wang Muqing, who didn’t make finals, like how Zhengting, Justin, Chengcheng, and Wenjun had said goodbye to Zeren, Xinchun and himself during the final elimination on Idol Producer. It feels surreal that he’s on the other side of it now, with Zhengting somehow still by his side.
“You guys made it to the next round and I was offstage,” Quanzhe elaborates, even though there’s no need because they both know exactly what he’s talking about.
Zhengting makes a sympathetic noise and pulls Quanzhe into a quick hug. Quanzhe leans into him, even if it’s only for a brief second.
“It’s okay,” Zhengting pats Quanzhe’s shoulder. “You're here now.”
-
They’re done filming for the day after they form teams for the final performances, and no one bats an eye when Quanzhe moves to follow Zhengting even though Xinxi looks like he’d rather Quanzhe join them so they can start practicing already.
“How are you feeling?” Zhengting asks, making himself comfortable on the couch in his dressing room. Filming for the role he auditioned for four months ago had started recently, and Quanzhe knows his call time has been insanely early.
Quanzhe shrugs and sits on the chair in front of the vanity. “Doesn’t quite feel real yet.” He drums his fingers along the edge of the table. “I’m ready, though.”
Zhengting meets Quanzhe’s eyes in the mirror, gaze sharp despite his obvious tiredness that he no longer has to hide, now that they’re away from the cameras. “You’ve changed, Li Quanzhe,” he says.
“I would hope I have,” Quanzhe tilts his head back against the headrest. “Though some days I still dream of the seven of us performing onstage together. It’s silly, isn’t it?”
“While I respect everyone’s choices,” Zhengting says carefully, after a beat, “I may be partial to you because you’re still doing everything you can to stand on stage again.”
Quanzhe spins the chair around so he’s facing Zhengting. “I always knew I was your favorite.” He walks to the couch and stands over Zhengting, who’s looking up at him with sparkling eyes.
Zhengting’s hair is sprawled across the arm rest and Quanzhe reaches out to run his fingers through the strands. They’re unbelievably soft for how often Zhengting bleaches his hair, and Quanzhe is jealous. “The others are probably going to start practicing soon,” he says.
“You should probably go join them,” Zhengting tells him, but one of his hands come to rest on Quanzhe’s hip.
“You’re not making a very convincing case,” Quanzhe smiles faintly. He moves his hand down to cup the side of Zhengting’s face, who nuzzles into it like a pleased house cat.
“For luck,” Zhengting says, and he’s leaning up for the faintest brush of his lips against Quanzhe’s. “Go now, I’ll be here for your moment in three weeks.”
-
The day after the episode airs, almost a week later, Ollie sends him a text, saying something about how he had sneaked a photo off of a computer as staff were syncing the cameras’ memory cards. Quanzhe has long given up on trying to figure out why Ollie does the things he does, but his breath catches when the file loads.
Against a completely black backdrop, there’s Zhengting and himself, each taking up half of the picture. They’re facing away from each other - Zhengting, almost fading into the background in his black suit, walking off to the left, and Quanzhe, in his light gray uniform, walking off to the right. A spotlight shines down from above, which makes the lightest part of Quanzhe’s blonde hair look almost white, makes Zhengting’s jawline look like it could cut glass, and draws attention to the center of the image, where their hands are centimeters apart, fingers still curled from holding onto each other, having just let go seconds ago.
Quanzhe stares wordlessly at the photo, just stares at it in absolute awe for god knows how long before saving it and texting Ollie a quick thanks , to which Ollie replies with a smirking emoji. Safe in his own camera roll, Quanzhe taps into the photo again. It’s such a perfectly captured moment that Quanzhe doesn’t even care that his eyes are closed in it.
His fingers move on their own accord and he’s posting it to Weibo without a second thought - it’s simply too beautiful to not share the world. A simple post, just the photo of the two of them and the caption “moment”, but those are the most impactful ones. Zhengting comments on it not even five minutes later - Gosh! This photo! Work hard and believe in yourself, each step you take is the best option for you! Looking forward to you on finals day, there’s only one more step until you achieve your dream ~
Quanzhe smiles as a text follows the Weibo notification immediately.
Li Quanzhe!!! It reads. You made me tear up when I was about to go into work and now they have to retouch my makeup >:( You’re going to pay for this!
You can blame Ollie , Quanzhe types. He stole it from a cameraman.
You’re the one I’m seeing it from, Zhengting’s reply comes quickly. Have to go now, you work hard too okay?
Quanzhe glances at the date on his phone, which tells him there are two weeks left until finals. They don't have as much of the song down as they should, but Quanzhe will be damned if they don’t start picking up the pace starting this week. For now, though, Quanzhe taps back into his camera roll and sets the picture as his lock screen.
To others, the picture might be sad, because two of them have let go of their hands and are walking away from each other. For Quanzhe, though, it makes him feel warm and brings a smile to his face each time he taps on his phone to see it. Because instead of goodbye, it’s a see you later, with the promise of something better when the time comes again.