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If asked to describe himself, Xia Fei would say that he’s hollow.
On the outside, he’s an incredibly decorated man. Age 21 and he’s already the Boss of Chinatown. Every event that occurs passes by his ears and his approval. Crime rates have dropped drastically. He’s killed many, many men, but none that didn’t deserve it. In fact, he’s had enough free time to manage a modeling agency on the side!
But on the inside?
Xia Fei has nothing.
He’s not happy; happiness doesn’t feel like drowning in ice water every day, does it? He’s not particularly sad, either. What does he have to be sad about? He has a stable position. He’s doing well for himself. He’s not bored.
Sometimes, Xia Fei thinks he doesn’t feel anything.
Maybe that’s why he takes up managing the modeling agency. It takes one to know one, after all, and Xia Fei has a talent for selecting the prettiest, hollowest talents. They stay for the money and the fame, then leave when the next bright opportunity comes. No matter, it’s not like Xia Fei’s serious about the modeling thing.
It’s just…refreshing to interact with people who don’t know about the whole mafia boss shtick. Not that Xia Fei managed to make a connection with any of them. The situation could best be described as a man keeping porcelain dolls for show. Occasionally a guest comes over to buy a doll, and Xia Fei lets them because he can always buy more, newer porcelains.
Porcelain like his skin. Porcelain like his heart. In a different life, maybe Xia Fei would be one of those models.
This isn’t another life, though.
Xia Fei walks onto the set, more of a tryout set than anything, set up to determine which of the model applicants would be formally given contracts. A practical interview, if anything. Xia Fei himself is dressed in a frilly white blouse, black trousers, and gold chains all around his neck and belt loops. He put in his eyebrow and helix piercings, combing his hair slightly. His signature jasmine perfume wafts in the air as he walks past a group of model hopefuls openly ogling him.
There’s a model getting his picture taken.
He’s…different.
For one, his hair is a bright scarlet red, shorter near the top but longer near the back, twisted in a simple braid. It’s stunning. They have him in a crimson blouse, draped to leave his chest open, showing off intricate necklaces and what looks like a six pack. His skin-tight black jeans leave little to the imagination. He smiles coyly at the camera, turning so Xia Fei gets a glimpse of his red eyeliner.
He’s beautiful.
He’s not hollow.
How do these things coexist?
Xia Fei feels the world falling apart around him and the mysterious model, still turning and posing, so utterly confident in himself and his presence in a way that Xia Fei and the other models could only hope to be. This man belongs under that spotlight, and yet, simultaneously doesn’t. He belongs on runways, representing luxury brands, not under some vague company in Bridon.
Xia Fei has felt his heart beat like this very few times. Most of those times were when he was faced with the barrel of a gun to his forehead.
This sensation is eerily similar. Xia Fei feels the sweat down his back, the shakiness of his hands he’s never quite gotten rid of, and his accelerating breath. Except there’s no gun, and no danger. Only a man. Just a man.
The director shouts a loud cut, but the man’s persona doesn’t drop. He gives a cheery smile and a lazy wave before stepping away, glancing at Xia Fei.
Xia Fei knows his poker face is thick as porcelain, but the man smiles amusedly anyway, like he can see through the cracks.
It’s unsettling.
It’s thrilling.
Xia Fei knows for a fact that this man’s going to be the rising star of the company.
His name is Xiao Weiying.
He's…not very well-liked.
It's only a week later that Xia Fei attends another shooting, this one for the rookie models. Xiao Weiying's attire, attitude, and general aura set him distinct from his peers, which. Well. His peers don't particularly like that.
They've cornered him, smiles slick as oil and hands tensed to fight. Xiao Weiying, in contrast, looks bored as hell. It's almost comical. Every word out of the guy's mouth (not that Xia Fei can hear him from where he is) seems to make the other models angrier and angrier, not that he cares. In fact, is that…enjoyment he detects in Xiao Weiying's body language?
Enjoyment or not, he is riling up the others to no end. Before Xia Fei's made the conscious decision to, he's made his way between the two parties, neatly catching the first incoming fist in his left hand. He revels in the paling skin of the model. "I don't suppose I gave you permission to touch my property, did I?"
"Your — I apologize, laoban, but you should have heard the words he was saying —"
"I didn't need to, I saw everything." Xia Fei's easy smile melts away as he gazes at his crowd with clear disdain. "Instead of worrying about how the peacock presents itself, the sparrow should worry about how to catch the worm, is it not?"
Everyone has taken a collective step back, eyes wide, mouths open. Xia Fei allows himself a grin. "Mhm. That's what I thought. Go forage for food, little sparrows."
They scurry away. Xia Fei's going to have to look into their contracts…such small fry shouldn't be getting so uppity with people so clearly out of their league, but it may be their behavior when threatened. Xia Fei wouldn't know.
He turns behind him to Xiao Weiying, who is also watching him with wide eyes, but the emotion in them is starkly different: curiosity and amusement, rather than fear. The man barks a laugh at Xia Fei's incredulous stare. "Not that I needed defending, but this one humbly thanks His Majesty for his interference."
A short chuckle breaks out of Xia Fei's chest. "His Majesty is too much. Laoban will suffice. Or Felix, if you're feeling particularly casual."
"Hm…Laoban, then." Xia Fei is entirely too focused on how his mouth curls around the syllables of his name to notice the outstretched hand at first. Xiao Weiying simply grins when Xia Fei blinks and shakes the hand. "I suppose you run this company? In that case, I'll be in your care."
"You assume correctly; I'm the manager." Xia Fei smiles. "I noticed your audition. You have potential. Are you doing this full-time? I haven't had a chance to look at your contract yet."
"Mmm…part-time for now." Xiao Weiying tilts his head lazily, almost cockily. "I was bored, and this seemed interesting."
Xia Fei blinks. "…wow."
"Impressed or underwhelmed?"
"…both. In a good way." Xia Fei laughs, shaking his head. "You're an interesting one, Xiao Weiying. I'll be looking forward to seeing your unique modeling style come into fruition."
"Ha! I'll have to dilute my presence to not overwhelm my poor audience." Xiao Weiying leans forward, bringing his face closer to Xia Fei. He's not blushing. He's not. "See you around then, laoban~"
Xia Fei goes on autopilot for a second.
He smiles, gives a jaunty little wave, and saunters back to his car. The shoot's going well, so he'd not needed in the moment. Thank god his windows are tinted, because the first thing he does when he opens the drivers seat is put his face in his hands and scream.
He's Xia Fei. He's fucking Felix. Boss of Chinatown. And he's brought to this state by a mere boy.
Xia Fei learns that Xiao Weiying is a grand four years older than him.
What the fuck. What is his life. Oh my god.
Xia Fei gets to meet Xiao Weiying at more length a month later.
His shoots are going viral across Bridon. It seems that Xia Fei sees his face everywhere, from the train station to the grocery market. Even at the hair salon! While he's absolutely taking advantage of this prime business opportunity, his little crush has not abated in the slightest. Courtesy of his…business opportunity.
He's in a restaurant, talking with a client, when Xiao Weiying walks in. Not that Xia Fei notices, no, he's quite busy. The client is currently being an absolute imbecile.
"I really don't see why this price is unreasonable!" He gesticulates with his fork as he speaks. Very flamboyant, very flashy. Very hollow. "We've worked with you before for much lower prices!"
"Yes, when you needed bodyguards, not a few tons of arms —"
"It doesn't matter!" The client roars, but the restaurant is a bit shabby, more of a pub than anything; the din of the customers drown his voice. "Have you forgotten who you're talking to, young man?"
"No," Xia Fei says, picking at his plate. "I'm well aware, in fact."
"Then —"
Xia Fei raises a hand. The client goes silent. After all, Xia Fei's got the royal flush while he has a pair of threes, and they both know it.
"I've always admired hawks, you know?" Xia Fei lets his gaze drift to the TV, where a soccer team named after the bird celebrates their win. "Very patient, skilled at hunting. They circle above, watching for the slightest movement. A squirrel scurries about, hoarding nuts and foraging for food. The hawk decides whether the squirrel gets to eat in the first place."
He adjusts his cuff links. Sometimes, silence is your greatest weapon. "We aren't negotiating prices. We're negotiating whether you get to feed or not. You don't pay, you don't get the goods. That's all. And hey, there are much bigger predators out there than hawks. The hawk has better things to do than run after stragglers. The squirrel will be eaten regardless. The question is whether the squirrel wants the hawk on it's side or not."
The client is visibly sweating. Xia Fei smiles sweetly. "I think you'll find the answer to be yes, don't you?"
"…yes, of course." Visibly cowed, the client tries to rally by focusing on his food. "…you will find the money in your account by next week."
"I look forward to it," Xia Fei murmurs. "And of course, you are well aware of the…ah, repercussions of going against your word, are you not?"
"Extremely aware." Still not calling him sir like he'd started the conversation with, but Xia Fei can't bring himself to care. "I will take my leave then."
"Don't worry about the bill, I'll foot it. My treat."
"Of course."
Xia Fei waves at the client until he's out of sight before he allows himself to untense. A long exhale, and he digs his thumbs into his temple, trying to find relief from the headache the client's given him. Some people seriously didn't know where they stood in the pecking order.
Of course, it is at this moment that Xiao Weiying pulls out the client's chair and sits, looking very self-satisfied. "I must admit, I appreciate your bird metaphors. Very important to have a theme. Branding."
"…Xiao Weiying." Xia Fei sighs internally, putting on a paper smile. "What brings you to this corner of Bridon?"
"Was wandering about, bored, you know the drill," Xiao Weiying waves a hand around, unconsciously (or is it on purpose?) showing off his intricate bangles. In fact, Xiao Weiying is very dressed up: layers of thin necklaces, the center one holding a ruby drop; two garnet stud earrings, and a gold ring on his finger. His outfit is also classy, pairing a silk black button-down with a blood-red tie that matches his eyeliner. It suits him.
"You get this dressed up to go pubbing?" Xia Fei snorts, taking a sip of his wine. "Is this your usual style?"
"I suppose you can say that." Xiao Weiying runs a hand through his necklaces. So he's very aware of his appearance. Good to know. "If I can make people stare at me, why not? Makes thing's interesting."
"You're very interested in amusement, I see." Xia Fei rests his chin on his palm. "Tell me, is it to distract yourself or to deceive yourself?"
Xiao Weiying blinks before throwing his head back in a bout of laughter. "I can't say I've had anybody say that to me before! I made a good decision joining that modeling company of yours. I don't think I've ever been so entertained."
"I'm glad to hear that," Xia Fei answers warmly. "Your sudden virality has been good for the company too. I hope we can keep up a partnership for a long time."
"Always business with you," Xiao Weiying muses. "What about you, laoban? Any…ah, personal reactions to my shoots? I've done some dramatic ones, some alluring ones, some sensual ones…"
Xia Fei is not fucking blushing. He tilts his head. He hopes it looks coy rather than puppy-like. "Well, I certainly liked the one with your shirt half open…art students would be very interested in doing an anatomical study of your body."
"You could just say you think I'm hot."
"And be so callous? Never," Xia Fei laughs, heart lifting as Xiao Weiying laughs with him. "Speaking of students…I noticed you studied Theater in college? And yet you're doing modeling?"
"Ah, we've moved on to the stage where you ask about my life story," Xiao Weiying nods.
"What — not like that, don't make it weird, Xiao Weiying!"
"Calm down, little bird, I'm just teasing." As if the nickname wasn't fucking enough, the man has the audacity to flick Xia Fei's forehead.
Flick. Xia Fei's. Forehead.
Xia Fei just shakes his head. "What happened to professionalism around here? For the record, I am not trying to get in your pants."
"Aw, but what if that was my goal?" Xiao Weiying looks far too amused for the situation.
Xia Fei groans. "Save it for the second date, at least."
"Oh, so this is a date now?" Xiao Weiying replies.
Xia Fei thunks his head against the table, hiding his face. From this angle, he can physically feel Xiao Weiying's laugh, and he wonders what it would feel like against his neck.
Okay. Aborting mission.
After a moment of staring at his hands in existential horror, Xia Fei raises his head to find Xiao Weiying flagging down a waiter and ordering some meat dish. "Huh," Xia Fei whispers before he can stop yourself. "You actually came here to eat."
Xiao Weiying snorts. Gracefully. Because of course. "What did you think I came here to do?"
"I don't know, annoy the ever living shit out of me?"
"Well, that's only a bonus."
Xia Fei's not an idiot. He sees how the waitress's eyes linger a tad too long on their unusual arrangement. The bartender keeps sneaking them glances. Some men stare at them from the other corner, dumbfounded.
Not that Xiao Weiying particularly notices, or cares, even if this is going to be all over the rumor mill soon.
Let them talk. From Xia Fei's calculations, Xiao Weiying is a trustworthy person, albeit a bit peculiar (and Xia Fei's confident in this assessment, he hasn't been a wrong judge of character in five years). He's lighthearted, his presence like a balm to Xia Fei's daily torture. Whether he knows it or not, he has Xia Fei's protection.
His forehead is flicked again.
"You're dazing off again," Xiao Weiying pouts. Motherfucking pouts. "Am I not interesting enough for you?"
"Ah, no, don't worry about that, something just caught my eye and — oh, you're teasing me." Xia Fei glares at Xiao Weiying, whose grin had been growing wider and wider the more Xia Fei stuck his foot in his mouth.
"You're cute when you're flustered. You should fluster more."
"if I did that nobody would respect me anymore." Xia Fei takes another sip of his wine. He'll need it to survive this conversation. "But thank you for your input. Glad to know that my looks don't disappoint."
"Oh, they go farther than just not disappointing." Xiao Weiying leans forward, as if inspecting Xia Fei. "Makes sense why you're managing a modeling company…have you ever modeled yourself?"
Xia Fei shrugs and averts his gaze. "No time. With my current schedule and responsibilities it's not possible, I'm afraid."
Xiao Weiying hums, interest bright in his eyes. "So why manage the modeling agency? Assuming that it's not your main job, of course."
There are many answers to that question.
One is that Xia Fei's a hoarder. He likes pretty things, and having those pretty things under his company pleases something in him. Another is that when he's helping other people shine, it makes him feel like he's doing some good in the world. Atonement, if you will, for the blood on his hands. A third is that if he has free time, then his mind wanders, and his mind never wanders into bright places. Oftentimes, Xia Fei finds himself reliving the most bloody parts of his youth, reminiscing on how it feels to snap a neck with his bare hands or to tear someone's arm off their body.
He cannot tell Xiao Weiying any of this. For very obvious reasons.
Xia Fei finishes his wine, collecting his thoughts, and grins. "I thought it would be interesting."
He thoroughly enjoys how Xiao Weiying blinks and chuckles, realizing the game. "I suppose I deserved that. While I don't doubt that, I think there's a more interesting answer hidden beneath the surface. I suppose I'll work on peeling back your layers until you can trust me with the truth."
"I could say the same to you, Mr. Interesting, thinking that I buy your answers for a second," Xia Fei shoots back. "And — wait, did you compare me to an onion?"
"Well, if the shoe fits, is that the saying? And you would look rather dashing in purple."
A loud laugh bursts out of Xia Fei suddenly. "What the hell; I don't even think I own a purple shirt," he wheezes. "I don't even like onions! I don't think I've ever ordered an onion dish on purpose. Are you doing this to spite me, Xiao Weiying!?"
Xiao Weiying doesn't answer.
When Xia Fei looks back at his dinner partner, he finds Xiao Weiying's expression gone slack, mouth slightly open, pink flush high on his cheekbones. The moment lasts but a second, before he melts into a smile that looks entirely too soft for Xiao Weiying's face. "A new side of laoban," he hums. "I'm glad I finally got you to relax."
"I —"
It's true. The tension that had lined Xia Fei's muscles has all but disappeared. In fact, Xia Fei doesn't think he's laughed so hard in a while.
"Well," he rallies after a second's pause. "I suppose I have you to thank, for that. Really, I've enjoyed talking to you," he smiles.
Xiao Weiying looks away while Xia Fei does a little cheer mentally. The tables have turned! He's flustered the flusterer!
The moment is broken when Xiao Weiying's food arrives, steaming and savory. Xia Fei wants to capture the way Xiao Weiying's eyes light up at the dish forever, preferably on a polaroid in his wall.
He hasn't wanted to treasure a memory in a long time.
As Xiao Weiying eats and the two banter for the next half hour, Xia Fei finds himself looking forward to the future for perhaps the first time in his life.
At Xiao Weiying's next modeling shoot, Xia Fei shows up in a purple sweater, dark-purple trousers, and a purple headband. It clashes horribly with his hair. He's never quite gotten behind the yellow-and-purple combination.
As soon as Xiao Weiying sees him, he doubles over wheezing.
he's on set, with perfect makeup, outfit, and lighting. Laughing, like this, he looks ethereal. A stray model passing by snaps a photo and uploads it online, probably trying to spread hate for Xiao Weiying.
The photo goes viral for all the right reasons.