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English
Series:
Part 7 of Oneshots
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Published:
2018-05-03
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1,927
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1/1
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3
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Call Out My Name

Summary:

It doesn't matter what anyone tells him—Yixing has never and will never believe in ghosts.

Or: In which Yixing is all whiny over his stupid friends using an ouija board in Baekhyun's grandma's house.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

It really doesn't matter what anyone tells him—Yixing has never and will never believe in ghosts.

 

“You're all delusional,” is what he murmurs with a snort when his friends bring out some dusty old board which they apparently bought in the shady pawn shop downtown. He doesn't appreciate that his repeated protests remain ignored, even crosses his arms at the sight of Baekhyun and Luhan holding hands beneath the table while scolding Sehun—but not him—for refusing to join their pointless seance.

 

It’s boring, and damn, it’s sultry in there. You see, Baekhyun has a major obsession with candles and this time he insisted on lighting way too many, even more than last time which Yixing used to think was impossible since last time was hell or as close as it gets. What makes it even worse is that it’s the scented kind now, the ones Baekhyun found in his grandma’s basement next to shelf filled with homemade herbal wine (Yixing know this because despite not having been there because, well, he just does). They look so ugly, so garish, surrounding the board in what is at least meant to resemble a pentagram shape.

 

Yixing groans. The smell of amber and musk or whatever other shit those candles are made of is giving him a headache, or so he imagines.

 

“Tsk, you’re all so childish. Sehun, let’s go,” he says with a pout before the seance begins. Feeling a bit airheaded, quite nauseous in fact, he forces himself to look away from Baekhyun and Luhan whose hands are still clasped together way too tight for his liking. “Let’s leave these idiots alone. Those ghosts are all in their head.”

 

He doesn't like this stupid game, yet does nothing but wait for nothing to happen when none of his friends—not even the hesitant Sehun—seem to be listening or even acknowledging his presence at all.

 

“I thought I could trust you!” he then whines out loud, not-so-secretly hurt by the lack of attention as no one does as much as even turn their head. Oh, how mean they are! A bunch of losers! he thinks to himself before sticking out his tongue as if anyone would even notice it at all. “But I guess you're just like them, brat. Hmpf!”

 

He keeps standing there, though, by Baekhyun’s grandma’s kitchen table since he’s still a bit scared to walk home alone at night, keeps his arms crossed tightly against his chest while continuing to mutter unheard insults under his breath. It saddens him—he can't deny it—that things are always like this these days.

 

There used to be a time when both Sehun and Luhan were on Yixing’s side, a time when they would all gang up against Baekhyun whenever the latter started babbling about his grandma being “psychic” and “able to contact the dead”, and how she—Yixing almost gags—”probably passed those abilities onto her grandson”. There used to be a time when they would watch horror and laugh instead of gathering in this godforsaken, stuffy old study, a time when Yixing did actually feel welcome (as he was usually propped up comfortably against Luhan’s warm chest).

 

He curses them now, but they just won't listen. He curses them for having become as stupid as Baekhyun, for believing that some piece of time-worn wood will let them talk to whatever ghost they think is there with them.

 

“Hello, we are here to peacefully communicate,” Baekhyun says—more like whispers—after a while when the board is all set with their fingers on the planchette. Only silence follows before Yixing scoffs, having already figured out an early age that ouija boards are just useless toys made to suck more money out of fools and desperate teenagers.

 

How ridiculous it is! How insanely childish! A bunch superstitious kids, that's what they are!

 

He’s not the only who doesn't like it, though, he realises just by looking at Sehun who is observing it all with a worried frown. It’s a bit cute, really, how he’s curled up on an armchair at a laughably safe distance while biting his nails, not really participating yet watching still. He could have just agreed to leave along with Yixing, of course, but the latter decides to let it slip this one time.

 

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Nothing is really happening with the board which is probably why Baekhyun is beginning to look distressed by now.  It doesn't suit his image as a medium—that obvious nervosity—yet he keeps his jaw slightly clenched and lets his free hand squeeze Luhan’s sweaty one as if in mutual fear of the great unknown, the imaginary demons that won't appear this time, either.

 

Yixing rolls his eyes and blows raspberries behind them.

 

When exactly did Baekhyun and Luhan become close enough to hold hands like this, like some sappy old couple? Last time he checked, or maybe the time before that, it was himself and Luhan who would entwine their fingers underneath the table when they thought no one was looking. Last time he checked, Luhan would rather swallow dead rats than make Yixing feel upset or even the slightest left out. Last time he checked, Sehun wasn't mute and sulking by himself instead of nodding along feverishly to every word leaving Yixing’s “cute lips”. Last time he checked, or the time before that, or the time before that, or the time before that… or whenever it was… his friends would do anything to make him feel included. Last time he checked, he didn’t feel this lonely around them.

 

Times do change pretty fast, it seems. He still wonders what happened, though.

 

“Hey, you're there..? Can you hear us?

 

He rolls his eyes yet again at the sound of Baekhyun's shaky voice, and jumps a bit but clicks his tongue when the planchette starts spelling out profanities and nonsense. “Hands off my boyfriend, you whoring idiot!” is decipherable among the randomly put together numbers and letters, and Yixing laughs, glances automatically at Sehun, happy when Baekhyun lets Luhan’s hand go quicker than one would toss away poison ivy.

 

It’s all tricks, of course, an elaborate lie, and he admires the amount of time and energy that Sehun must have put aside to make this joke work. The fact that the latter is just sitting there frozen, staring at the board with a look of utter confusion on his paling face, only makes the whole thing more convincing. Sehun should definitely pursue a career in acting, concludes Yixing while making a mental reminder to compliment the younger on his theatricals later.

 

“Can you say something more?” It is now Luhan’s time to stutter out questions and Yixing wonders what made him fall for this nonsense. “Are you at peace? Are you angry with us? Who was the driver? God, I miss you so much! You have no idea–”

 

A strong puff of air dashes through the room on a sudden, putting out all the cheap scented candles. They’re all bathing in darkness now but Yixing doesn’t mind, only listens amusedly as Baekhyun and Luhan start screaming in terror while clinging to each other for dear life.

 

They deserve it, they truly do, and not only for being dumb as hell.

 

Poking Luhan’s shoulder gently just to scare him, Yixing finds himself awfully pleased with the violent reaction and the ungodly screams. What’s better though, is the sound of that stupid ouija board falling to the floor and shattering into what he assumes must be at least a million pieces.

 

“Yixing! Yixing! Where are you?!” follows the noise but it is now Yixing’s turn to ignore his so-called friends no matter how glad he is to finally hear his own name. “Yixing! Where did you go?!” Luhan keeps shouting while stumbling over chairs and Baekhyun’s clumsy feet, but Yixing only backs into the corner and chuckles, thinking that this is a good enough payback.

 

It isn't until minutes of chaos has passed that someone manages to turn the lights on, and it isn't until then that they all stop screaming. The room is a mess with all the broken clutter and with melted wax staining antique doilies, but although Baekhyun’s grandma will probably be mad upon finding out, Yixing figures that it isn't his problem.

 

“Whatever, I’m going home.”

 

He shrugs to himself, fed up with this game and just wanting to leave and have a peaceful time. Baekhyun and Luhan can keep playing by themselves, can hold hands or whatever for all Yixing cares. It’s not like he’s jealous or anything. Why would he be? It’s not like he’s sad and a little disappointed that Luhan suddenly stopped holding his hands after that stupid car crash a few years back.

 

Hmpf.

 

His heart hurts just a bit.

 

Turning to the only one who might still care, he reaches his hand out as an invitation for Sehun to grab it instead. The latter might not be the one who once promised to never let go, but at least he doesn't make promises only to break them. Plus, he’s kind, and warm and sweet. Adorable, actually, and a lot smarter than Luhan.

 

Yixing’s cheeks turn red at the thought. He always had a secret soft spot for Sehun.

 

“You coming?” he asks with a dimple which disappears when he notices that Sehun is crouching on the floor while covering his face with shaky hands. For a moment it almost looks like he’s crying but the important thing is that he’s still ignoring Yixing, and so the latter snorts once again and retreats his hand in returning annoyance.

 

“Hmpf! Don't, then! I don't care anymore!”

 

He turns to the door and stomps away. Maybe his friends will give him a call later and apologise for having been so mean to him lately. Maybe they’ll invite him to hang out like during old times when their heads weren't full of made up ghosts. Maybe they'll do that once they find out that he’s gone. Maybe they'll do that. Maybe.

 

Bleh! As if!

 

He wouldn't feel up for it, anyway.

 

As he leaves, he can hear still Luhan shouting but he doesn't turn back, doesn't even consider staying. He’s tired of being played with, tired of being ignored, tired of his best friends’ childish games and Baekhyun’s sticky fingers all over his Luhan. He shudders, not wanting to think of the abominable things those two have probably been doing behind his back.

 

“Yixing! Come back! We’re so sorry!” he hears but proceeds to slam the front door shut, not wanting to give them the pleasure of explaining why they weren’t even there when he woke up at the morgue. “Please talk to us! Please! Please come back… Please…”

 

The voices of his friends grow less and less distinct until he’s out on the street and he can't hear them at all. While a part of him wants to run straight back inside and pretend that things are still like they used to be, he doesn't. He’s heard those words before, over and over and over again after days or even weeks of them ignoring him completely. It’s always the same and he just doesn’t get it, won’t understand why they keep acting like this.

 

We miss you so much! He pouts as he walks, not really knowing where he’s going or why. Yixing where are you! He shakes his head hard, not willing to shed tears over broken friendships. Yixing please come back! He won't, not this time.

 

Hmpf!

 

 

Notes:

this is my poor attempt to get out of this unforgiving writer's block so comments are really really really really really appreciated :(

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