Chapter Text
He knew he won before he could even read about it. He knew that he finally won the Cannes with the way his phone constantly vibrated on his bedside table with the sound that does not sound like his alarm. To be fair, Xiao Zhan decided that he would skip the awards show despite everyone’s insistence that this is his year. This is the year that he will finally win the award that he used to dream of ever since he heard his first director’s “and 3...2...1… Action!”
The 38 year old actor knew he should be happy. He should be jumping out of joy, shed happy tears, Heck, he should be in the Cannes right now, giving his speech, thanking Wong Kar-Wai for trusting him with Paramour , thanking his team for being with him through thick and thin, saying that he would celebrate with burnt pancakes but here he is, lying in his bed alone, feeling more lonely than ever. His hand automatically reaches to the other side of the bed. Empty. Just like what he currently feels.
His hand gripped on the sheets, would having the trophy on his hand make him happy? He closed his eyes and imagined that he wasn’t gripping the sheets. In his head, he wasn’t holding the sheets… He was holding the reward for his hard work for Paramour. He imagined how he would give his speech, unrehearsed just like always for he always seems to have the talent for eloquence. He sees Director Wong Kar-Wai applauding to him proudly as he speaks but everything inside his head didn’t make him happy. Holding the award that he worked hard for didn’t make him happy. Because Xiao Zhan knew that he would rather be holding his hand rather than any trophy in the world. But here he is lying alone on his bed with only the sheets to hold.
His phone stopped buzzing, maybe because it got tired of him ignoring it or rather the people sending him congratulatory messages got tired of him not replying to them… again. Xiao Zhan wondered when the people around him would get tired of reaching out to him when he made himself more unreachable again.
A few seconds of silence was disturbed by a familiar ring tone and Xiao Zhan knew he had to answer this or Kyungsoo would probably do anything to fly to China this instant. Sighing to himself, he never imagined that he would become close with the person who would always be before his name when the nominees for Best Actor would be announced.
Reaching for his phone, he immediately answered Kyungsoo’s phone call.
“You finally fucking won,” Kyungsoo greeted him with the mix of English, Chinese, and Korean. It may not make sense to outsiders but this is how they have communicated with each other for the last three years. Their English is both decent and they could hold conversations with foreigners but there’s a comfort in speaking your own language in a foreign land.
So at their first Cannes together with the two of them awkwardly introducing themselves to one another, Xiao Zhan and Kyungsoo became friends as they both toast to their lost in the Best Actor Category with “Here’s to us gay asian actors” as their champagne flutes clinked with one another.
“I know,” Xiao Zhan answered in Korean, hoping that Kyungsoo would calm down when he heard the familiar words out of Xiao Zhan’s mouth.
Spoiler alert, it didn’t.
The Chinese actor heard his friend sigh on the other end of the line. As if he was choosing which language he should use to express his anger towards Xiao Zhan.
“You know… You’re the only Best Actor that I know who isn’t happy to win the award,” Kyungsoo told him in English, the Korean accent no longer noticeable with the way he speaks and it’s probably because he has been working with Western directors left and right.
“I’m happy…” Xiao Zhan answered, unsure if he really is. His younger self would’ve said more, expressing how he didn’t imagine winning this award but his 38 year old self would rather lay on his bed and worry where on earth will he place this new award in his apartment. The empty shelf on the pantry sounds nice but his manager, Xuan Lu would probably hate him for that.
“Why don’t you just go talk to him?” Kyungsoo hesitantly asked and Xiao Zhan could imagine the Korean actor spacing out as he internally debated whether to use his name or just whatever is convenient like, “ Lord Voldemort is probably expecting you to visit him.”
And before he could even stop himself, the words, the worry was already out of his mouth before he could even shove it to the back of his mind. “What if he doesn’t want to see me?”
“When did Yibo doesn’t want to see you?”
His world stopped. With just his name, the actor 6 years younger than him rendered him speechless. Made his heart stop beating before it hammered wildly against his chest. The dead butterflies fluttered their wings inside his stomach once again. Xiao Zhan thought that Yibo does not affect him anymore but with just the two syllables of his name, tears are slowly streaming down his face.
“I hurt him… Fuck … Hurt isn’t even the right term for this… I… I destroyed him,” he said the last words in a whisper. Because this was probably the first time he acknowledged it. That he destroyed Yibo from inside out.
Yet Yibo, the precious angel that he is. The stupid martyr that he is told him that having his heart broken a million times is better than not being able to love Xiao Zhan.
“You’re my other half,” he could still Yibo whisper it against his ear every single night and Xiao Zhan chose to break his heart in half, crushing it into tiny pieces throughout the 12 years that they have known each other.
“Kyungsoo… I failed my other half,” he confessed as if he was hoping that someone would give him his absolution. Because forgiveness is out of the question and he has accepted his punishment that he would never become a whole again.
He heard Kyungsoo breathe, “Xiao Zhan… You shouldn’t be telling this to me.”
“I’m… I’m scared of seeing him again.”
“You’re afraid of seeing Yibo?”
“I’m afraid of hurting him again.”
---
His conversation with Kyungsoo exhausted him. But this was only the start. He has dozens of messages to reply to, thank them for congratulating him even though only one congratulations mattered to him. The one he’s waiting for is the one that will never come.
Out of habit, he looked at the closed door of his bedroom, hoping that it would open with Yibo entering the room with the familiar scent of burnt pancakes with his ugly, stained, “kiss the chef” apron that Xiao Zhan bought for him. Wang Yibo may not be a good cook but he was a good boyfriend, ex-boyfriend , who always makes sure that Xiao Zhan eats.
He stared but the door remained shut. No burnt-smelling pancakes, no ugly, stained “kiss the chef” apron, no Wang Yibo. Just Xiao Zhan, alone in his room.
The phone on his hand vibrated again and Xiao Zhan couldn’t help but shake his head.
I could accompany you today when you visit Yibo.
The message came from his ex wife. The most recent one. The 5th. The last. Victoria Song.
And he knew Victoria wasn’t the only one who sent him that type of message. He checked his inbox and floating in the sea of endless congratulations were messages from the other 4. All of them sent him the same thing and Xiao Zhan’s heart swelled. 5 failed marriages in a span of 12 years. The media would always question how the husband material of the industry couldn’t keep himself a wife not knowing that he never wanted a wife when he already had his other half, the man that he couldn’t marry.
The two of them agreed that they do not need a wedding to prove that they love each other. After all, marriage is just a paper proving to society that you’re together. It does not necessarily mean that you love each other. And divorce does not necessarily mean that it’s heartbreak. Divorce could also mean freedom.
Xiao Zhan, still married because of love. Only his love wasn’t directed to the ones walking down the aisle but the one beside him wearing his infamous Chanel brooch.
Sighing to himself, Xiao Zhan knew he had to see him again. See the man that he spent his whole time loving with half of it hiding how much he does.
—
Dear Diary,
Am I ready to see him again?
How do you think it would feel to see the man that you loved the most? How would it feel to hear him again? To see him smile again? How would it feel to have him in my arms once again?
Would it be the same as the first time that I saw him? Awkward. All over the place. Horrible.
Or would it be just like the last time we saw each other? So familiar yet heartbreaking.
I… I just can’t wait to see him again, no matter how awkward, horrible, familiar, and heartbreaking it is.
XZ