Chapter Text
The subtle tendrils of dawn's light began to creep through the threadbare curtains of the shared university dormitory, ushering in the start of another day. Zhang Hao, a slender figure hunched over his violin, was already awake, his nimble fingers effortlessly coaxing a tender melody from the instrument. The symphony he was crafting was as light and refreshing as the morning zephyr, providing a soothing soundtrack to the break of day. He glanced fleetingly at the clock, the neon numbers announcing it was only 6 AM.
Occupying the other half of the room, Ricky was still cocooned within the comforting confines of sleep. He lay sprawled across his bed, enveloped in a sea of plush pillows and designer blankets, a stark contrast to the strict, ordered nature of Zhang Hao's half. Zhang Hao's gaze lingered on Ricky's tranquil, sleeping face, a moment of silent appreciation before snapping back to the task at hand. As his fingers resumed their delicate ballet across the violin strings, he was reminded of the nickname he had once affectionately bestowed upon Ricky - "LovelyRicky". During these calm, early hours, it seemed absurdly yet endearingly fitting.
The serenity of the morning was abruptly shattered when the door swung open with a loud creak, and Chen Kuanjui sauntered in, his laughter echoing in the small room, shattering the peaceful silence. "Zhang Hao, you're up early again!" He remarked, casually flopping onto Zhang Hao's bed. In retrospect, Zhang Hao sometimes regretted bestowing upon Kuanjui a spare key to his dorm. It had afforded the older boy the liberty to barge in whenever he wished, often resulting in a clamor that surpassed Zhang Hao's threshold of tolerance. Nevertheless, Kuanjui was his best friend, and Zhang Hao was willing to overlook these minor disruptions in favor of their friendship.
KuanJui’s eyes widened as he noticed the tranquil figure on the other side of the room, "Doesn't he ever wake up?" he queried, pointing towards Ricky.
Zhang Hao shrugged, placing his violin carefully back in its case. "He stayed up late working on a project last night."
"Hmm," Kuanjui hummed in response, "Enough about him, let's get breakfast. I'm starving." He said, reaching out to grab Zhang Hao’s wrist, eager to start their day.
"Wait! Let me get my computer first, so I can get some work done," Zhang Hao interjected, his mind already switching gears to academic mode. Kuanjui nodded, understanding the importance of Hao's studies.
As Zhang Hao hurried to Ricky’s room to retrieve his laptop, he remembered the previous night when he had been helping Ricky solve a complex math problem. He left the room, leaving Ricky still in the throes of a peaceful slumber, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of Ricky, looking so peaceful and untroubled.
Their journey to the campus cafeteria was interrupted by KuanJui’s occasional quips and remarks. Upon reaching their destination, Zhang Hao pulled out his laptop to prepare for his upcoming Music Theory III class. "You should have chosen to be a dance major," Kuanjui commented, biting into his sandwich.
Zhang Hao chuckled, taking a sip of his steaming coffee. "And have as many classes as you do?"
"The amount of classes I take is my choice, actually. I chose this path because I wanted to specialize in teaching later on," Zhang Hao explained, not taking his eyes off his lecture notes.
Kuanjui lightly tapped his own forehead, his gaze filled with amusement as he regarded Zhang Hao. "Really, Zhang Hao, you've always been a tad too serious for your own good. Coming in first in the entrance exam really did a number on your brain, didn't it?"
Zhang Hao chuckled, shaking his head in response. "It's not about overachieving, Kuanjui," he explained, his voice gentle. "I just have a deep respect and passion for what I do. I've chosen this path to specialize in teaching later on because I want to give back, inspire others the way my teachers have inspired me."
Kuanjui shrugged nonchalantly, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Well, when put that way, it sounds noble. But I'm telling you, next to you, I look like a complete slacker."
Their banter was interrupted by a familiar face approaching their table. "Good Morning Kuanjui, morning Zhang Hao," greeted Sung Hanbin, his warm smile lighting up his features.
Zhang Hao returned the greeting, a sense of relief washing over him. He had managed to maintain a friendly relationship with Hanbin after their breakup, but there was always a hint of tension lingering between them, especially when they found themselves in close quarters. The fact that Hanbin had been the one to end their relationship made it even more complicated.
"Kuanjui, we need to start working on our duo routine today. Any thoughts about the choreography?" Hanbin queried, sipping on his coffee, effectively shifting the conversation's focus to their upcoming performance.
"I've given it some thought," Kuanjui responded, his tone taking on a more serious note. "During the bridge, I was considering a fusion of your excellent waacking skills with my classical dance training. We could create an impactful performance and then stick to one style each for the rest of the song's sections. What do you think?"
"Sounds promising. I've already worked on the intro, particularly the tutting part you requested," Hanbin replied, pulling out his phone to show Kuanjui the choreography he had devised.
Zhang Hao sat quietly, nursing his coffee as he listened to their conversation. He couldn't help but feel a pang of exclusion. His friends were heavily involved in their dance project, and he was left on the sidelines, an observer to their enthusiasm and mutual understanding.
After breakfast, Kuanjui and Hanbin left together for their dance rehearsal, leaving Zhang Hao to trudge his way towards his Music Theory III class. The rest of the day passed in a blur of lectures, assignments, and a few stolen moments of solitude where he worked on his new violin composition. He even managed to catch sight of Ricky a few times across the sprawling campus.
As the midday sun hung high overhead, its warm, golden rays bathing the city in a gentle light, Zhang Hao made his way back to the sanctuary of their shared home. Upon opening the door, he was met with the sight of Ricky, comfortably ensconced on their plush, well-loved couch.
Ricky was seated cross-legged, his tall, lithe body folded gracefully into the position. His slender fingers, elegant and nimble, traced the lines of a sketch with an artist's precision. His features, which were classically beautiful in an androgynous sort of way, were sharply defined. His jawline, chiseled and strong, was highlighted by the dappled light filtering in through the partially closed window blinds. This muted, soft light threw alternating shadows and highlights across his face and body, further accentuating his good looks.
His eyes, a mesmerizing hue that seemed to hold the depths of an ocean, were focused intently on his work. His full lips, normally curved into a charming smile, were now slightly parted, a telltale sign of his deep concentration.
Zhang Hao's return was greeted by the tantalizing scent of gratin cheese wafting through the air, a welcoming beacon that drew him towards the kitchen. His eyes landed on the kitchen counter, where a plate had been thoughtfully covered to keep the food warm. Ricky looked up from his artwork at that moment, a small, warm smile playing on his lips as his gaze met Hao's.
"Thanks for not waking me up in the morning," Ricky greeted, the sincerity evident in his voice.
Zhang Hao blinked in surprise, his eyes darting towards the plate and then back to Ricky. "You cooked?" he asked, a mix of disbelief and amusement tinging his voice.
Ricky merely rolled his eyes in response, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Well, not exactly. Let's say I had some help," he responded cryptically, gesturing with a slight tilt of his head towards a pizza box resting unobtrusively on a side table. It was clear evidence of a delivery order Ricky had placed, making Zhang Hao chuckle in understanding.
Ricky might have been a rich and popular figure, but moments like this were reminders of his endearing humanity. Despite the abundance of wealth, he could still appreciate the simple pleasures of a delivered pizza. Zhang Hao took a seat opposite Ricky in the kitchen, gratefully accepting a slice of pizza with a murmured, "Thanks, Ricky."
As Zhang Hao savored the pizza, Ricky filled the air with his enthusiastic chatter about an upcoming art exhibition that he was particularly excited about. Zhang Hao listened, occasionally chiming in with a comment or question, but he was mostly content to simply observe Ricky's animated expressions. Hao was a man of few words, preferring to let his actions speak for him. However, he cherished these quiet moments, these glimpses into Ricky's vibrant world.
After an eventful day, Zhang Hao retired to his bed at 10:30 pm, his mind a blank canvas for what should follow in his composition. Sleep didn't elude him for long, but he awoke close to midnight, his throat parched. As he made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water, he was surprised to find Ricky perched on one of the desks, still engrossed in his work.
"It’s 1 o’clock, Ricky. Why are you still up?" Hao queried, his voice hoarse from sleep as he helped himself to some water.
"I can’t wrap my head around these math problems. They're due tomorrow," Ricky admitted, not taking his eyes off the paper strewn with equations and diagrams. Zhang Hao sighed as he glanced at the complex mathematical problems that Ricky was wrestling with. Without a word, he moved closer, his academic prowess coming to the fore as he took up the role of a patient tutor. Having taken the same math class a few years ago, he began helping Ricky, explaining each step of the problems with methodical precision.
By the time they finally retired for the night, it was late, and the lack of sleep took a toll on Zhang Hao the following day. He found himself struggling to keep his eyes open during his Practical Music III class. The lack of sleep, compounded by the fact that he had spent close to two hours in the middle of the night helping Ricky with his homework, had significantly drained his energy.
Beside him, his classmate Taerae diligently took notes. Zhang Hao decided to ask him to share the notes later, especially considering the looming exam in two weeks. As he exited the class, he felt the weight of a new project on his shoulders, adding to his already sluggish state.
Later in the day, Zhang Hao found himself sharing a table with Chen Kuanjui, his friend and confidante, at their usual spot in the bustling university cafeteria. The aromatic allure of freshly brewed coffee and various global cuisines wafted through the air, adding to the vibrant ambiance. The two friends chatted amicably about their day, sharing anecdotes and laughter amidst the lively hum of conversations around them.
As Zhang Hao took a bite of his meal, his attention was drawn to a sudden commotion nearby. Two guitarists had taken position behind Jiwoong, a senior known for his flamboyance. They strummed soft notes, providing a melodious background score to the spectacle that was about to unfold. In his hands, Jiwoong held a large bucket of vivid red roses, a stark contrast to his blue suit. As he steadily approached a certain table, a crowd began to gather, their curiosity piqued by Jiwoong's grandiose presentation.
Zhang Hao nudged Kuanjui, drawing his attention to the unfolding scene. Jiwoong came to a stop in front of Seok Matthew, the object of his attention. The cafeteria went silent in anticipation as Jiwoong held up a bright red rose, his voice carrying across the room.
"Matthew, I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have as my companion for the Halloween ball. Will you do me the honor of being my date?"
The cafeteria erupted into a chorus of gasps and whispers, the audacity and charm of Jiwoong's proposal catching everyone off guard. All eyes turned to Seok Matthew, who stood before Jiwoong, a mix of surprise and a playful smile on his face.
Seok Matthew's cheeks flushed a charming shade of pink as he glanced around at the expectant faces. "Jiwoong, you always know how to make a scene! Of course, I'd love to go to the spring ball with you. Let's make it a night to remember!"
The cafeteria burst into applause and cheers, the students buzzing with excitement over the unexpected turn of events. Zhang Hao couldn't help but smile at the sight. Kuanjui leaned in, a smile playing on his lips, "They make quite a pair, don't they? Jiwoong's boldness and Matthew's playful nature seem to complement each other perfectly. It's wonderful to see them find happiness together."
"I didn't even know we were having a ball," Zhang Hao confessed, his gaze shifting from the jubilant pair. Kuanjui rolled his eyes at his friend's ignorance, "Come on Hao, this is a whole new level of cluelessness even for you. Haven't you seen the flyers all around the campus?"
Zhang Hao blinked in surprise, suddenly feeling out of the loop. Then, as an afterthought, Kuanjui added, "At least you must have heard about someone proposing to your roommate yesterday." Zhang Hao almost choked on his drink. "Someone asked Ricky to the ball?" he spluttered, taken aback.
Kuanjui giggled at his friend's reaction, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Why, are you interested?" he teased. Zhang Hao rolled his eyes, a slight flush creeping up his cheeks. "No, not particularly. It's just... I don't know, he didn't mention it to me," he admitted, taking another bite of his food. Kuanjui merely raised an eyebrow, his smirk speaking volumes.
When Zhang Hao returned to their shared dorm room at noon, Ricky was yet to return. Considering their recent reliance on takeout meals, Zhang Hao decided to cook something for both of them. Remembering that Ricky was originally from Shanghai, he chose to prepare Con You Ban Mian, a traditional Shanghai noodle dish. The thought of Ricky's joy at the surprise made him smile as he bustled around the kitchen.
As he finished serving the noodles, he heard laughter echoing from the hallway. The door swung open to reveal a giggling Ricky, followed by Lee Jeong Hyeon. After bidding Jeong Hyeon goodbye, Ricky turned to Zhang Hao, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
"Good evening, Ge," Ricky greeted, discarding his shoes for his house slippers. Zhang Hao felt a twinge of awkwardness as he responded, "How was your day, Ricky-ssi?" Ricky shrugged nonchalantly, "You know, nothing new. I started dance classes with Jeong Hyeon. How about yours?"
Zhang Hao related the day's events, including the dramatic proposal he had witnessed in the cafeteria. Ricky's eyes lit up with excitement, "I should've been there! I'm getting hyped up for the ball with all these proposals happening around campus."
Zhang Hao hesitated before asking, "When were you going to tell me that someone had already asked you to the ball?" Ricky blinked in surprise, then shrugged, "Oh, I didn't think you knew. Anyway, I declined. I'm hoping someone else asks me."
As Ricky's words sank in, Zhang Hao couldn't help but recall how close Jeong Hyeon had been to Ricky lately, and a strange feeling churned in his stomach. He quickly changed the topic, pointing to the kitchen table, "I made dinner. It's Con You Ban Mian." Ricky's eyes widened in delight, and he threw his arms around Zhang Hao in a tight hug, causing the older boy's ears to turn a bright shade of red.
After dinner, Ricky, in his usual carefree manner, asked, "And you, Ge? Who are you going to the ball with?" Zhang Hao found himself at a loss for words, eventually admitting, "I'm not sure, actually." Ricky's advice to hurry up and get a costume echoed in his mind as he helped clean up after dinner.
As Zhang Hao retired to his room, he urged Ricky, "Don't stay up too late again. It's not good for you. After waking up late, you don't eat breakfast." Ricky hummed in agreement, his eyes still fixed on his sketchbook.
The next night, Zhang Hao found himself alone in their shared dorm room, Ricky's usual laughter and chatter conspicuously absent. His phone buzzed, drawing his attention. The caller ID showed it was Gyuvin, which was strange because Gyuvin was closer to Ricky than him. Intrigued, he picked up the call.
"Hello?" Zhang Hao inquired, a hint of apprehension in his voice.
"SUNBAEMIN, it's Ricky," Gyuvin blurted out in a panicked tone, "He collapsed in the art studio, I need your help. Come quick!" The line went dead before Zhang Hao could respond. A surge of fear gripped him, and he hastily set down his violin, shrugging into his coat as he sprinted out of his room towards the art building.
The university campus, usually lively and bustling, was eerily quiet as he rushed through its pathways. His heart pounded in his chest as the looming structure of the art building came into sight. He entered, and to his horror, he found a crowd had gathered around a figure lying on the floor.
"Ricky!" Zhang Hao exclaimed, his voice echoing in the room. His heart felt heavy as he saw Ricky sprawled on the floor, his face pale and his eyes closed. His sketchbook was open next to him, a pencil still clutched in his hand. Gyuvin was there, holding Ricky’s head up, his phone in his other hand. He was trying his best to maintain a semblance of order amidst the worried whispers of the other students.
"He's been working non-stop for days," one of the students said, a worried look on his face. "He must've pushed himself too hard."
Zhang Hao fell to his knees beside Ricky, reaching out to shake him gently. "Ricky, wake up," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. Ricky’s eyelashes fluttered, a weak groan escaping his lips. His eyes slowly opened, his gaze meeting Zhang Hao's.
"Zhang Hao," he murmured, a faint smile crossing his lips before his eyes fluttered shut again. Zhang Hao felt a lump in his throat, but he pushed his worry aside, focusing on the task at hand.
"Come on Gyuvin, the infirmary should still be open," Zhang Hao said firmly, helping Gyuvin to lift Ricky up gently. The crowd around them made it difficult to move, but they managed to start making their way towards the door.
The sight of Ricky's unconscious form had drawn the attention of everyone in the room, their whispers growing louder. Zhang Hao felt a surge of frustration. "Please, stay out of this, keep your phones to yourselves, and let us take him to the infirmary," he said, his voice echoing through the room. The crowd parted to form a path, their whispers falling silent as they watched the trio make their way towards the infirmary.