Archive of Our Own

Dawn was already breaking, and Chenle knew he was fucked.

He didn’t get a wink of sleep last night. No matter how hard he tried to fall asleep, his brain insisted on playing the same song nonstop inside his head. Even when he caved and listened to it in full, a new song would replace it and he was in the same predicament all over again.

It was his fault for wanting to stay up until midnight when he knew he had to go in to work early to help open. He was supposed to be there at five in the morning to prepare for opening at seven. Chenle really liked his sleep, so he always tried to get as much of it as possible, preferably at least seven hours.

He got zero.

Usually, he was pretty good at shutting his phone off before eleven and falling asleep within seconds. This time, however, he made himself stay up late even though his eyelids were closing on their own and his head felt like static.

It was his birthday, after all. He made it a tradition to spend the first second of his birthday listening to his favorite song. He was convinced that whatever song he started his day with would set the mood for how it would go, and he wanted to make sure that his birthday started off right.

It was nothing out of the ordinary, starting his birthday like this, but it’s been one of the few times he hasn’t been able to immediately crash after finishing the song.

Oh well. It’s not like his birthday was going to be good, no matter what song he chose to start his day with. Three people quit just two days before, and the restaurant needed people to make up for their absence, and it just so happened that Chenle was one of those people who were scheduled to work an involuntary shift.

An involuntary shift on his birthday. Which, he didn’t tell anyone it was his birthday because he wasn’t that close with his manager or coworkers, and he maybe could’ve gotten out of it if he mentioned it, but he honestly didn’t know what he would do if he wasn’t working. The only special part about his birthday was the first three minutes. The rest of the day was like any other, as far as he was concerned. And at least this way he was making money.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed that this was how he was going to celebrate surviving another year on this earth. It’s like saying, “wow, congratulations on being born! For being alive, you get to work until you die, woohoo!”

The alarm on his phone to wake up went off, the default ringtone being much too loud. Chenle groaned, hitting snooze. It was far too early to be pessimistic. Today was supposed to be a happy day. Or at least as happy as he could make it. He was for sure going to get himself a slice of cake after work. No matter how much Chenle tried to convince himself today was just a normal day, he didn’t think any birthday was complete without a cake of some sort.

The alarm went off again. This time, Chenle turned it off with a sigh. It was time for another unremarkable birthday.

If anyone were to ask Mark where he thought he’d be after graduating university, he might’ve said something like “music producer” or “lyricist.”

Oh how naive younger Mark was. Little did he know that he’d try to get into the music industry, would work his ass off day and night, spending countless hours mixing and remixing tracks, writing and erasing and writing and adjusting words until it didn’t make sense, only for him to get rejection after rejection.

And unfortunately, money didn’t grow on trees. Bills had to be paid, rent got higher after each year, and food wasn’t cheap. He had to get money from somewhere, and that somewhere ended up being a fast food joint.

It was supposed to be temporary. A job that was flexible enough where he could still work on his music and also ask for more hours if money ran tight. He figured he’d be there for a year, tops.

Five years have passed since then.

Five years of faking smiles at impatient customers. Five years of staying up late at night into the early morning working on songs that no one would listen to. Five years of dutifully counting the cash from the register at the beginning and end of the day. Five years of wondering if all his hard work would be worth it. Five years of knowing that it wasn’t.

Mark was twenty-nine (nearly in his thirties!) and the only remarkable thing he’d done was graduate college.

Back in his uni days, everyone thought he would be the person to hit it big first. His friends saw his dedication and determination and would jokingly ask him to not forget about them once he became a famous producer.

Mark would play along with the joke, laughing with them and promising that he wouldn’t forget them. Because they were all going to make their dreams come true. Donghyuck was going to be a singer. Jaemin was going to be Gordon’s rival. Renjun was going to turn the fashion world upside down. The four of them couldn’t wait to graduate and show the world that their dreams weren’t just dreams, that they could become reality.

He chuckled bitterly at the memory. At least for Donghyuck and Jaemin, their dreams did come true. While Donghyuck wasn’t the biggest name out there, he had a large following on his Instagram and YouTube channel, where he posted song covers and whatever short-form content that’s trending. Last Mark heard, the boy was starting to get interviews. Jaemin was currently working at one of the most famous high-end restaurants in Seoul. He hasn’t yet challenged Gordon to a cook off (at least not that Mark has seen), but he was still doing what he loved most—cooking.

While he and Renjun hadn’t achieved their dreams, Renjun was still finding success in his own right. The smaller boy left the fashion world after a year of interning and followed another passion of his: singing. He got scouted by a small company early on in his new career, and the two singles he released became instant hits. Mark saw on the smaller boy’s story that Renjun was invited to be a judge on some singing competition show in China.

Let it be clear that Mark was not envious of his friends—he was truly happy that they were all succeeding in life, even if that success looked different from how they first imagined it would be. But he couldn’t lie and say that he didn’t feel at least a twinge of jealousy whenever he saw their life updates pop up on his feed.

A couple of years after college, the group chat the four of them created that had once been so active that he needed to put the notifications on mute, was now depressingly silent. It’s been years since someone last texted. The last message had been from Mark, wishing everyone a happy New Year. Donghyuck had reacted to it with a gif, Jaemin sent a smiley face, and Renjun gave a thumbs up. Mark would open the chat off and on throughout the years, wondering if he should say something, but he feared he’d get nothing but silence back if he did, so he did nothing.

He arrived at his workplace of five years, not fully remembering the drive but thankful he didn’t get in an accident. He was always lost in his thoughts. Donghyuck used to tease that he’d lose his head if it wasn’t attached to his body.

When he got to the door, he found that it was already unlocked. He opened it to find that Chenle, their best cook, was already there, refilling the food stations and bopping his head along to whatever song was playing in his earbuds, completely unaware of another presence.

Mark allowed himself a small smile. Chenle started working at the joint about a year after Mark came. He hasn’t really had any meaningful conversations with the dude, just some small talk to make polite conversation and to help the work days go by faster. But from all the interactions he’s had with the dude, he’s seemed pretty chill.

Yeah, maybe work won’t be so bad today.

Mark clocked in, dropped his stuff at the break room and waved at Chenle as he passed through the kitchen. He went back to the cash register and popped his own earbuds in, humming along to the beat as he counted the money.

Chenle thought that if he listened to his hype playlist enough, it would brighten his mood and make him feel pumped and ready to conquer the day.

The feeling lasted all of six minutes into the shift, before it was ruined by an entitled customer who kept rudely and loudly complaining that they shouldn’t have to wait for their shake, that they were the only customer and it was early in the morning so why was it taking so long—

“Exactly, it’s early in the morning. We literally opened ten minutes ago. Please wait for the machine to fully turn on,” Chenle explained for the third time through gritted teeth.

The customer scoffed. “Wait for it to turn on? Don’t you keep it on all the time, anyway? Where’s your manager, I’d like to speak with someone of higher status.”

His eye twitched. It took everything in him to not spew profanities at this nitwit of a person. He hated customers like this the most, the ones who looked down on food service workers and felt the world revolved around them. The Karen’s of the world were sadly the majority.

He wanted to tell them that his manager would say the same thing as him, and that no amount of complaining would make their shake arrive faster.

Right now, the manager was in the break room playing games on his phone. The guy was chill (maybe a little too chill). He was also sure their manager would get pissed if Chenle disturbed him from his game to deal with a rude customer. But if it meant Chenle wouldn’t have to deal with the fucker anymore, then he was happy to go in the back for a few minutes pretending to get the manager, and then lying to the customer that the manager was busy.

He turned around to do just that when Mark leaned over the counter and said in a fake cheery voice, “Here’s your shake! Sorry for the wait, the machine was being slow this morning. I like your shoes! I hope you can forgive us for the inconvenience.”

The customer eyed Mark up and down, a sneer on their face. “Whatever, see if I ever come again. And I’ll make sure to tell my friends not to come here, too.” And with that, the person left.

Chenle and Mark both breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Thank fucking god, I didn’t think that bitch would ever leave,” Chenle groaned, walking back to the kitchen to finish prepping.

Mark trailed behind him to help. It was just going to be the two of them for the first couple of hours, and the morning rush was only a short hour away. It was best to be as prepared as possible before the wave of zombies came looking for their caffeine fix.

They worked in relative silence, with Chenle taking control of the aux and playing his music through the restaurant speakers.

This was the first time he was working alone with Mark. He’s had shifts with the other man before, has made some small talk about work and other surface-level stuff. From what little he knows about the man and from what he’s observed, Mark’s a friendly guy—awkward at times and laughs a little too loudly to fill silences, but he’s good with the customers and actually does his work—unlike some of the people he works with.

Chenle was in the walk-in refrigerator counting the eggs when he heard a loud crash and an even louder profanity from the kitchen. He raced out of the cold room.

Another thing about Mark was that he’s clumsy. He tries to help, he really does, but somehow things seem to break or malfunction when he touches it, which is why he’s normally kept out of the kitchen, away from the knives and hot oil.

Their manager had stepped out twenty minutes ago to “buy supplies” for the restaurant. Chenle and Mark knew it was really code for “going home and not coming back until the next shift.” So it was up to Chenle to do damage control.

Upon entering the kitchen, he barely managed to contain the urge to throw down his stupid uniform cap and quit right on the spot.

There, on the unmopped floor, were the freshly cut tomatoes, washed lettuce, grated cheese, and various other burger toppings that Chenle had just finished prepping. All twenty containers worth, now lying inedible beneath their feet. Forty-five minutes of careful preparation undone in five seconds.

Happy fucking birthday.

Chenle glanced at the clock. Only about ten minutes until the morning rush started. He looked at the mess on the floor, mentally calculating how much time it would take to clean it up while knowing there wouldn’t be enough time to even do half of it.

He looked down at Mark, who was crouched down by the scattered black olives, staring up at Chenle with wide, pleading eyes that were screaming I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so fucking sorry.

“Don’t Worry, Be Happy” by Bobby McFerrin started playing and Chenle was beginning to think that this must be a hidden camera prank because his entire life right now felt like a joke.

As much as he wanted to rip one into Mark, he knew that wouldn’t make the mess go away nor stop the customers from coming. Instead, he took a deep breath, consoled himself by saying that at least it wasn’t their breakfast ingredients, and silently grabbed a broom and threw it towards Mark’s unmoving figure.

“Don’t forget to mop,” Chenle quietly growled, before turning towards the grill and cooking up some food to put under the heaters.

He hurriedly cleaned up the mess, having to pause multiple times as customers arrived at steady intervals.

For the rest of the shift, the two didn’t talk to each other. Chenle kept himself busy in the kitchen doing endless prepping and cleaning the areas people often overlooked. Mark eventually cleaned up the mess he made whilst thinking of ways to apologize to his irritated coworker. He really didn’t mean to make a mess, and he genuinely felt bad for ruining Chenle’s hard work, even if it wasn’t on purpose.

But alas, Mark couldn’t work up the courage to go up to the brunette with whatever clumsy apology he came up with. The boy was giving “stay-the-fuck-away-from-me” vibes and Mark wanted to respect that. He was also scared that if he disturbed Chenle, he would get even angrier and Mark really wanted to avoid pissing him off even more than he already had.

Once their shift came to an end and the other workers started showing up to replace them, Mark saw Chenle hightail it out of the building. Sighing, he grabbed the iced coffee he made for himself, clocked out, and left.

He wasn’t really sure what he wanted to do now. Because of a shortage of staff, he was scheduled to work a double shift today, meaning he had to come back in the evening for the closing shift. He took a huge sip of the sugary drink. He loves God, but it’s times like these Mark wonders why He has forsaken him.

He eventually decided to go back to his apartment to take a shower (there was no point in smelling like sweat and grease for the rest of the day) before heading out to the downtown area. There was always something to do, some activity that was happening in nearby venues, and he needed a distraction.

There was no sense of direction, nowhere he really wanted to go. He let his feet take him up and down sidewalks, past the stores with the clothing brands he’d never be able to afford and the dolls people are weirdly obsessed with (seriously, Mark didn't get the obsession with the devilish-looking things).

One store, however, caught his attention as he was making his second circle around the block.

It was a modern-looking cafe, with a 3D tiger lunging in midair above the awning and large glass windows that were nicely decorated with flowers and vines. He browsed through the menu outside, and although it was definitely pricey, he couldn’t get himself to step away, because playing on the speakers outside the store was NCT DREAM.

Mark was secretly a big fan of the group. He pretended to be on his phone as he stood outside the establishment, but in reality he was vibing to the music. The store wasn’t only playing their title tracks, but their b-sides and even solo songs. He couldn’t stop himself from humming to “Golden Hour” when it came on.

It took an embarrassing five songs before he could hype himself enough to go into the shop. He wasn’t all that hungry after having the coffee earlier, but he couldn’t just walk away from a place that clearly has taste.

The inside was what Mark had expected—mismatched furniture, colorful pillows, fairy lights, and cutesy paintings hanging on the walls. Tables, chairs, and even a sofa were on the right-hand side, with the sofa being close to the large window. The food and drink displays were on the left-hand side, with tasteful drawings decorating the menu. It was modern chic, but still felt cozy.

One of the baristas greeted him as he walked in. Mark nodded his head in response, giving a half smile and stumbling through a hello. He never really knew what he should do in these types of situations. Does he just nod? Should he say hello? Should he say thank you?

Keeping a straight face as to not reveal the tumultuous emotions inside, he calmly walked over to the counter to look at the menu—until he noticed the baked goods on display right next to the counter. Call him childish, but Mark loved sweets.

His eyes excitedly flit over the desserts, his stomach trying to decide what to get. Should he get the lemon cake pop? The chocolate chip cookies? The orange muffin? So many options (and not enough money)!

He eventually settled on getting the raspberry cheesecake. It was difficult, having to choose between that one and the turtle cheesecake, but he needed something refreshing after being in a stuffy, hot building for most of his day.

As an afterthought, he impulsively got the chocolate layered cake he was eyeing earlier. He still hadn’t thought of how to apologize to Chenle, but he figured that a slice of cake never hurt anyone. Plus, everyone likes chocolate, right?

Even though Chenle knew the day was going to go bad, he didn’t think it would be “Mark-being-a-disaster-in-the-kitchen” bad. He needed a ten hour nap and a whole bottle of Advil to get through the rest of the day.

And some chocolate milk. He could really go for that delicious drink right now. Chocolate made everything better (or at least made it less worse).

As soon as his shift ended, he raced out of the restaurant and went to the nearest convenience store to get the miracle drink.

It worked wonders. Chenle felt a whole lot better after guzzling a large bottle. Not enough to feel ready to conquer his next five hour shift, but enough to not want to die.

He languidly walked back to his apartment, feeling much better now that he was in fresh, open air. He already knew what he was going to do with his break. His bed had been calling him since he left in the early morning, and he’d be a fool to not answer its call.

His nap ended much too soon. He contemplated shutting off his alarm and never waking up, but he didn’t wanna be a douchebag and leave his coworkers with even less help, so he let out a tired sigh and pushed himself off the bed.

Tonight it was only him, Mark, and two other people whose names he’s already forgotten. He was not looking forward to it. He was still a bit frustrated with what happened earlier with Mark, and he’d be working through the dinner rush (which was basically the entire shift).

Sometimes Chenle wonders what he did in his past life to deserve his current life. He knows that compared to some people, he’s doing pretty well. The pay’s enough to cover his rent, he has a place to stay and a job and a phone, but he also feels so numb. He can’t remember the last time he’d felt truly happy—like the type one feels deep in their bones and lingers on in their soul.

All Chenle can do is watch videos and listen to songs in an attempt to feel something. Sometimes he can fool himself into being happy, he can lose himself in a storyline or melody, but when the noise fades away, the loneliness creeps back, and he realizes it was never truly there in the first place.

When he walks in through the doors of the restaurant, he’s greeted with the smell of grease and dirty soap water.

“Chenle! Our savior! I heard there was a baseball game nearby, so it’s probably gonna be busy. Good luck, peace!” A worker from the previous shift exclaimed. He gave the other a salute, then clocked out as soon as they were done taking an order for a customer.

The line was nearly out the door, and Chenle could see the headlights of cars pulling into the parking lot. He sighed for the millionth time that day, and wondered not for the first time if he should just quit.

Luckily, one of the other people who was supposed to work with him showed up and agreed to take the cashier role. Chenle didn’t really like talking to people, especially not ones who were hungry. People can be really mean when they don’t have any food in them.

The other worker thankfully showed up and was helping Chenle in the kitchen, frantically putting the various orders together and placing them in the fragile paper bags. The two didn’t have much time to talk or even breathe as the orders kept coming.

He was so busy in the kitchen flipping pancakes and trying not to sweat in the customers’ food that he didn’t even notice Mark had arrived until nearly two hours into his shift.

There was finally a lull in the rush, and Chenle decided he needed to step outside to get some fresh air. He felt like he was suffocating in that building, and this was the only way to feel even an ounce of freedom.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting the icy chill of the night fill his lungs. He shivered, faintly wishing he brought a jacket, but otherwise welcomed the cold. It was better than being in that hotbox and feeling the sweat rolling down his temples and back and literally everywhere on his body.

He listened to the cars driving by on the freeway, let the flashing lights of buildings nearby dance across his eyelids. He heard a car door slam shut, followed by laughter and loud chatter. He felt the thump of the music from a nearby bar. Even though the air smelled like grease and car exhaust, Chenle didn’t mind. He was outside, living and breathing, and that’s all that mattered.

It was quite peaceful—

“You decided to escape out here too?”

—until it wasn’t.

Chenle didn’t even have to open his eyes to know who disturbed his peace. He took a slow, deep breath, wanting to be calm before responding.

But a few seconds went by, then several more, before a minute passed and Chenle still hadn’t opened his eyes nor had the lingering frustration of being interrupted from his peaceful night faded away.

Minutes ticked by and Chenle hadn’t answered Mark’s question, but maybe it was meant to be rhetorical, as Mark hadn’t said anything to fill the silence.

Chenle started to feel bad for essentially ignoring the man beside him. He opened his eyes, glancing over in the direction of his quiet coworker. Mark had his eyes open, staring into the night sky. Chenle couldn’t imagine the boy could see any stars with the light pollution.

As if hearing Chenle’s thoughts, Mark suddenly spoke, “I like looking up at the sky, it calms me down. I wish I could see the stars, though.”

Chenle shifted his gaze from the sharp features of his colleague to the murky features of the sky. Maybe the sky was a navy blue sprinkled with shining stars, or maybe it was dark as midnight with a bright shining moon. Chenle wouldn’t know. Mark was right—the smog covered the beauty of the night sky. Chenle suddenly wanted to see it, see what was underneath the haze. Maybe—

“Why don’t we leave this place?” Chenle thought out loud, surprising both him and Mark. He hadn’t really meant to voice it, but there was no taking it back now. He pushed on. “Tonight. After our shift. Meet me back out here and we’ll—we’ll leave this place—” Chenle started speaking faster, needing to get the words out before fear could clamp down on them—“no map. No destination. Just open roads, night sky, and this shitty town behind us.”

The anger in the words dissipated into the open air as the desperation clung to the air around them. Silence once again covered the two boys like a weighted blanket; heavy yet comforting.

Chenle felt like he should be embarrassed by his sudden outburst (maybe a part of him was as his hands were shaking), but he was more relieved if anything to finally get his frustrations off his chest.

The moment was broken by the door opening and a disgruntled coworker telling them, “You two have taken a long enough break, time to get back to work,” before harshly shutting the door.

This time Chenle sighed loudly, letting out an exaggerated groan. There were only two more hours of his shift, and then an hour of closing, before he could go back home and shower and sleep like there’s no tomorrow. He could hardly wait.

He slowly ambled towards the door, the exhaustion in his bones weighing him down.

He put his hand on the doorknob, about to enter Hell when he heard Mark’s voice. Chenle didn’t turn around, only smiled before returning to his spot at the stove.

“I’ll be here when our shift is over. Wait for me.”

The only way Mark could tell the brunette had heard him was the slight pause he took before going back inside the restaurant. Mark took that pause as a promise Chenle would wait for him.

The rest of the night went by slowly. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the clock. Every time he looked, the second hand ticked by slowly, testing his patience.

The midnight snacking rush finally ended and the time to close up shop had come. Mark quickly did his clean-up duties and even helped the other two workers with theirs. They were surprised but of course didn’t say no to the extra help (especially if that meant they got to do less).

By the time Mark was done with his chores plus the extra he added on himself, Chenle had finished his work at least a good twenty minutes beforehand.

Mark rushed to put his apron away, going to the break room to grab his stuff and hastening his way to the back door, not forgetting to stop by the employee fridge to grab the slice of cake he bought earlier.

By the time he got everything he needed, it’d been forty minutes since Chenle had clocked out. Mark prayed the boy was still waiting for him, although he wouldn’t blame the younger man if he left.

He stumbled back out into the night, shivering immediately at the temperature change. He wildly looked around, stepping out into the space, heart beating frantically when he didn’t see Chenle.

“Took you long enough,” an annoyed voice sounded behind him.

He jumped, involuntarily letting out a high-pitched scream. An equally high-pitched laugh joined in. “Sorry Mark, didn’t mean to scare ya.”

Mark turned around to face a smiling Chenle. His heart stopped for a moment. He had seen Chenle smile before when working with him, but usually it was directed towards the customers in a fake sorta way. This smile, though—this one looked genuine, like he was truly amused by Mark’s surprise. It showed off the whites of his teeth and the whiskers of his eyes. It also made Chenle seem softer, like maybe life hadn’t completely worn him down.

Mark clears his throat, shaking his head to clear the thoughts away. It’s late. His mind’s fried even as his body buzzes with excitement for their late-night ride.

“I didn’t think it would take me this long to clean up, I’m sorry. Thanks for waiting for me,” Mark apologized sheepishly.

Chenle waved his hand in the air flippantly. “Don’t worry about it, I just played on my phone while I waited. Although it did cross my mind that maybe you stood me up.”

The two started walking towards the employee parking lot. Mark let Chenle take the lead to where his car was.

“I’m sorry! I would never stand you up, I just wanted to be done as soon as possible so we could leave, but I maybe took on more than needed,” Mark admitted, nervously scratching the back of his head.

Chenle flashed him another one of his soft smiles. “It’s okay. We’re free now, aren’t we?”

They made it to Chenle’s car. Chenle unlocks it for them. Mark slides into the passenger seat, immediately turning on the seat warmer to the highest setting. He waits as Chenle messes with the heat and fiddles with his phone.

“Here, play whatever you want, I’m fine with anything,” Chenle says, handing the phone to Mark.

Mark grabs onto the phone gently and carefully. He chooses one of the first songs that comes to mind and puts Chenle’s phone on the phone holder. A relaxing melody with a steady beat fills the car. Chenle hums in approval. And then they're off.

It’s silent at first, neither one of them feeling brave enough to break the ice. But with some small talk and a shared love for basketball, the car starts to fill up with sounds of warm chatter.

They drive for about an hour before Chenle pulls up to a twenty-four hour restaurant, claiming that he needed to refuel. Mark easily agreed as his stomach rumbled.

The two entered the brightly lit establishment, wincing against the harsh lights. While Chenle walked closer to the menu to see it better, Mark did a survey of their surroundings. It looked like the place was empty, save for the bored workers who were unlucky enough to have the late shift. Mark understood their pain.

After ordering and receiving their food, they sat down at one of the tables. Mark watched as Chenle immediately started inhaling his burger. He was both impressed and worried at the speed the small boy was eating. In contrast, he calmly sipped on his large caramel-macchi-choco-mocha-licuous (with extra whipped cream) frappe.

He checked his phone. 11:53 pm. The day was almost over. As Chenle shoved a handful of fries into his mouth, Mark brought out the slice of cake he kept hidden in his bag when they walked in and set it in front of the ravenous boy. When Chenle noticed the confectionery, he froze mid-chew, staring at the sweet before turning his face away, swallowing the rest of his food.

It wasn’t really the reaction Mark was going for. Did Chenle not like chocolate cake? Or maybe he’s still mad at Mark? Or—Mark gasped—what if he’s allergic to chocolate! Pity flooded through his body. How terrible to be allergic to something so delicious. Mark had also been eyeing one of their strawberry cakes. Maybe he should’ve gotten that instead—

His inner ramblings came to a halt when Chenle turned back towards him with silent tears running down his face.

Oh, thought Mark, maybe this was—

—the best gift I’ve received in a while. Chenle inhaled sharply. He had already given up on the idea of having a good birthday after being scheduled a double shift, let alone a cake. A sudden ache started building behind his eyes, and before he knew it, hot tears were blurring his vision.

He rubbed at them, but the tears wouldn’t stop. It was stupid. Mark didn’t even know it was his birthday! It’s just a coincidence that he happened to buy Chenle’s favorite cake on a day that was meant to celebrate him being alive.

He felt more than saw the older gently wipe at the falling tears. God, Chenle was so embarrassed, but at the same time, he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t remember the last time he allowed himself to cry. The relief he gained with each tear far outweighed the pain of embarrassment he felt.

The two sat in silence for a few minutes as Mark wiped the last of Chenle’s tears. No one had entered the restaurant since the duo arrived, and the workers had long since retreated to the back where the breakrooms were. The two had the entire space to themselves.

Chenle stared at the chocolate slice, not allowing himself to look up at whatever expression Mark was wearing. No doubt it was pity or disgust. He was probably rethinking his life choices that led him to follow Chenle here.

“Hey, are you okay?” Mark asked quietly. Chenle heard the question but didn’t look up, content with staring at the dessert until the end of time.

Mark let out a sigh. Chenle sucked in a breath, the hairs on his arms rising. He knew Mark was mad at him. What kind of person would be happy that Chenle ruined their night with his tears and–

“Sorry, that was a dumb question, of course you’re not okay. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I want to let you know that if you do want to talk about it, I’m all ears,” Mark offered softly.

Chenle let out the breath he was holding. Steeling himself, he finally brought his gaze up from the cake, nearly crying again as he was met with Mark’s warm and sincere smile. He gave a weak smile of his own.

“Thanks, Mark. I’m sorry for crying. I’m usually not this sensitive,” he chuckled humorlessly.

“Hey, crying doesn’t mean you’re sensitive. Plus, even if you are, there’s nothing wrong with feeling your feelings,” Mark interrupted earnestly.

The weak smile turned into a real one at Mark’s comment. “I guess I’m just having a hard time lately. I have no idea what I really wanna do with my life. One of my friends is a famous boxer and the other is a teacher, but I haven’t talked to them in a while, and I’m scared that if I try to reach out they’ll ignore me. Or maybe they’ve already forgotten about me. I’m a pretty forgettable person, you know? I don’t have millions of fans who care about me, nor am I out here making a difference in other people’s lives. I’m just a nameless person who flips fried eggs and goes to an empty home with nothing but my bed and alcohol for comfort. I have nothing to show for my twenty-six years of living–well, twenty-seven years now, since today’s my birthday. Albeit a rather shitty one,” Chenle trailed off at the end.

He averted Mark’s concerned gaze, needing to look anywhere else. His eyes settled over the man’s shoulder, where a clock was hanging on the wall.

11:59 p.m.

Soon it will be midnight, and the worst birthday of his life will be over.

Mark felt the pain in his chest grow deeper with each word that left Chenle’s trembling lips. He wanted to tell him that he felt a similar way, that he also felt like he had no direction in life and no friends to help him out.

He wanted to assure the younger that everything was going to be alright, even if he couldn’t promise that it would be. He would say anything if it meant that the hurt in Chenle’s eyes would go away.

He saw the man’s eyes flicker away from his, focusing on something over his shoulder. Mark turned his head to see nothing but a clock on the wall. His eyes widened though as he saw the time.

11:59 p.m.

He hurriedly turned around, reaching into his coat pocket and praying that the lighter he had forgotten to return to Donghyuck was still there. He breathed a sigh of relief that it was, then breathed an even bigger sigh to find that it was still working.

His eyes frantically scanned the restaurant, searching for something he could use to burn. His eyes lit up as he saw toothpicks in a cup on their table, quickly grabbing one and stabbing it in the cake slice, not hesitating for a second to light the other end.

“Uh, what are you–” Chenle started to question, but there was no time to waste.

“Hurry! Make a wish!” Mark prompted.

“Huh?” Chenle made a questioning noise paired with confused eyebrows.

“Your birthday isn’t over yet, right? Hurry and make a wish before the clock strikes midnight!” Mark urged.

Chenle glanced at the clock. Ten seconds until this nightmare of a day was over. He looked at the burning toothpick—a sad excuse for a candle, really—but one that perhaps meant more to him than any other candle would have. Deciding to humor the older, he closed his eyes, making a wish that only he and the universe heard. He prayed it would come true.

Mark saw Chenle’s eyes dart towards the clock again. Mark turned and saw there were only ten seconds left. He swiveled back around, preparing to tell Chenle to make a wish once again, but stopped himself as he saw the birthday boy with closed eyes and concentrated eyebrows. Chenle opened his eyes after a few seconds and blew out the flame (that was getting dangerously close to the cake) of the makeshift candle.

Behind Mark, the clock just struck twelve, but neither boy paid it any mind. The song from the speakers continued playing, filling the silence until they were ready to speak.

Chenle wordlessly removed the toothpick and cut the cake in half, pushing the plate towards the middle of the table and handing Mark a fork. Mark took the utensil and waited until Chenle took the first bite before taking a bite of his own, humming in approval at the taste.

They ate the rest of the cake in comfortable silence before leaving.

Mark didn’t mind the silence, surprisingly. Usually, he hated the quiet. He couldn’t stand it when it was just him and his thoughts with no way out, so he tried to settle his own restlessness by talking and making sure the conversation never died down.

With Chenle, Mark was finding that he didn’t mind the silences as much. He was starting to find comfort in the stillness, his mind quieting down for once when he wasn’t scrambling for things to talk about. Being with Chenle felt like the calm after the storm.

There was one question, though, that was nagging at the back of his mind. He didn’t want to break the peaceful atmosphere that had settled around them, but curiosity won out.

“What did you wish for?”

Chenle glanced at him with a smirk on his face. “Not telling,” the boy sing-songed.

“Not fair! I want to know,” Mark whined, giving his coworker his best pout.

Chenle laughed at Mark’s antics but didn’t budge, much to Mark’s chagrin. “Sorry Markie, but that’s for me to know and you to never find out. It won’t come true otherwise.”

The brunette turned his attention back to the road, but Mark let his gaze linger a moment longer. Perhaps the nickname was nothing but the slip of a tongue, but Mark wouldn’t mind if Chenle decided to call him that more often.

He eventually looked away from the driver and looked out the window. The sky was much clearer than in the city. He could see the stars twinkling and the moon illuminating the night sky. He briefly wondered where Chenle was taking them, but the thought didn’t take hold for long. He decided that he didn’t really care where they went. As long as he was with Chenle, he would go anywhere.

Truthfully, Chenle didn’t know where to go. He was surprised that Mark hadn’t accused him of kidnapping yet, but one look at the tired boy softly snoring against the window made Chenle think that he could’ve been kidnapping him and Mark wouldn’t mind at all.

Chenle wasn’t a kidnapper, though. Just a lonely boy who didn’t want to be alone anymore.

After another hour of driving and one stop to refill the gas tank, he decided that they had reached their destination. He pulled over to the empty rest area. Disregarding the parking lines, he stopped the car in the middle of the lot. He killed the engine and unbuckled his seat, reaching over to gently shake Mark’s shoulder.

The black-haired man barely stirred. Seeing the dark circles underneath his eyes and the frown on his face, Chenle felt almost bad for waking the older up. However, Chenle knew that Mark would be more upset at him if he didn’t wake him up. After a few more shakes (each one getting progressively rougher), Sleeping Beauty finally rose from slumber.

“Mark, look,” Chenle said, pointing his finger outside the window. He watched as Mark rubbed the sleep from his eyes before taking a glance outside. He grinned at his awestruck face and laughed as the sleepiness seemed to disappear as Mark threw the door open and scrambled out of the car. Chenle followed suit.

Outside was much colder than was comfortable; no doubt the two would start shivering in a few minutes. That didn’t matter though. Nothing mattered more than the beauty that was above them.

Chenle had always had a fascination for stars when he was younger. He liked looking up at the night sky and finding the constellations he recognized. It made him feel like a kid again, a sweet sort of innocence he missed.

In any case, usually the night sky brought him a bittersweet feeling. It was beautiful, yes, but it also reminded him of his fleeting existence. He stopped that train of thought. He did not want to go through an existential crisis right now.

Standing out in the cold night with Mark reminded Chenle of earlier yesterday evening, when he was trying to get away from the hustle and bustle of the fast food joint. Except this time he wasn’t annoyed by having the man next to him, but rather he was the reason Chenle’s racing mind slowed down enough for him to breathe.

As such, all good things must come to an end.

Chenle didn’t know how long the two of them stood out there, but he could no longer ignore the shiver running through his body or the chatter in his teeth. One glance towards Mark told him that the boy wasn’t faring much better.

“Wanna get back in the car?” Chenle suggested, already getting out his keys and auto-starting it.

“Yes please,” Mark agreed, his arms wrapped around his body in a futile attempt to keep himself warm.

The pair walked towards the car, the brunette slowing down as he approached the driver’s side. If he got in the car, that was it, right? He would drive them both back to their shitty town, drop Mark off at his house or apartment or whatever, and Chenle would go back to his depressing room and…be alone again.

His hand hovered over the door handle. Mark stood on the passenger side, shivering and not-so-patiently waiting for Chenle to open the door.

“Um, Chenle?” Mark queried, looking over at the frozen boy.

Though his body was still, Chenle’s heart was beating rapidly. He barely heard Mark over the pulse. He didn’t want to leave, not just yet. He wanted to stay here, out in the open road, under the stars, away from his anxiety and miseries. But he didn’t want to be alone. He wanted Mark to be there with him.

Before said boy could open his mouth to question the other further, Chenle blurted, “I don’t want to leave.” At Mark’s questioning look, Chenle steeled himself for the possible rejection and continued, “I don’t want to go back, not yet. I don’t care where we go, but I want to stay here. With you. Please.” His cheeks grew rosy at the end, and not because of the cold.

Mark gave a small frown, his cold temporarily forgotten. Chenle interrupted his silence as a rejection. His racing heart stilled, twisting in shame and turning in embarrassment. It was freezing out. They were both shaking from the temperature. It was god knows what in the morning. They should probably go–

“Okay,” Mark finally spoke, “I’ll stay.”

Chenle let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

Quite truthfully, Mark was tired. Not only was working a double shift the literal embodiment of hell, but the long drive had made him sleepy and the shock from the cold even more so once he got back in the warm car. He really wanted to go back to his apartment and fall asleep in his bed.

But the look in Chenle’s eyes told him that his friend needed comfort more than he needed sleep.

So he told him he’d stay. And, quite truthfully, maybe Mark wasn’t ready to let go of this moment, either.

Sheer relief painted Chenle’s face and the tension that had been building up in his bones relaxed at Mark’s response.

He unlocked the car for them, and as they got in, they both sank into the warmth that greeted them. Chenle handed his phone to Mark as the boy wordlessly put on music for their next adventure.

Chenle buckled his seat, then turned to his—coworker? Colleague? Friend? He squinted as his mind brought up friend. He supposed the two were friends now. It’s not that Chenle hated the idea, but it also felt insufficient in a way. Like “friend” was both too much and not enough.

The ravenette looked up from the phone towards him. “Ready?” he asked, that signature dorky smile on his face.

Chenle felt a smile creeping on his lips. Maybe he didn’t have to think about what Mark was to him. Not yet. For now, he can be just Mark, and that would be enough.

“Ready,” Chenle affirmed.

They were back on the road, no destination in mind, the only thoughts being to step on that pedal and chase that fleeting freedom.

“So, what do you think you’re going to do now?”

Of course, just like at the restaurant, Mark would disturb his peace here, too. “What do you mean?” Chenle asked.

“I’ve been thinking about quitting and getting back into music. I was really passionate about it before, but life got really hard so I just stopped but, I think I’m ready to try again.”

The honest confession made Chenle look at him, really look at him, for the first time. He hadn’t noticed just how prominent the older’s eye bags were before, or the tired lines that settled on Mark’s beautiful face, but he could see it all under the shining moon. He wondered if his own face looked just as tired and defeated.

“You can do it,” Chenle said with conviction. Mark looked at him in quiet surprise. Chenle continued confidently, “You may not have been ready then, but you’re ready now, and that’s all that matters,” he looked up at the sky and with a softer voice, “I think I’m ready, too. I love to cook, have always wanted to be a chef, but not in this way.”

The once peaceful mood had dampened with their admissions. Chenle could feel himself choke on the heaviness. Quitting had been something he had thought about countless times, but had been too scared to admit it out loud for fear of it becoming another disappointing proclamation. But something about Mark’s boldness had made Chenle want to be brave, too. Maybe this time, he can do something to help himself.

A warm hand touched his shoulder, lightly pulling him out of his thoughts. He turned to see the owner looking at him with gentle yet firm reassurance. “You can do it,” Mark assured.

Chenle smiled, putting his smaller hand on top of his. He hummed in response. “We both can.”

Above them, the moon shone and the stars twinkled in agreement.