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When people look at Vein, they usually do it with little trust, some respect, and a lot of fear. Being the boss means he had to step on countless known and unknown people to get to the top. It means he had to tear their flesh apart with his nails and teeth, until warm blood gorged out of their carotids. It means there is no place for anything soft, tender, and useless in his life—not feelings, not people, not anything of the like.
It’s not like Vein minds it too much, after all, he is used to it.
That’s why Xia Fei takes him by surprise.
There isn’t a single trace of suspicion or fear in his bright, doe eyes when he looks at Vein. No, there’s little hesitation, some admiration, and a lot of trust in his gaze, and Vein doesn’t know what to do about it.
“Thank you again for saving me the other day, Boss,” Xia Fei says. He thanks Vein every time he sees him, which is pretty often, given the way he trails after him like a lost puppy.
Vein should tell Xia Fei to stop being ridiculous and keep his distance, yet he doesn’t. He has had many chances to do so in the past, but he stops himself before the words come out of his mouth every single time.
“You weren’t treated fairly.” It’s Vein’s honest response, one that won’t do a thing to dissuade Xia Fei from expressing his gratitude the next time Vein makes a personal visit to his modeling agency. “I care about fairness, and some guys ganging against you wasn’t fair.”
Xia Fei nods, returning to his work only when the creative director announces that the break is over. He keeps stealing tiny peeks at Vein between takes, though, as if he thinks Vein won’t notice.
Vein definitely notices, but keeps his mouth shut and pretends he doesn’t.
There is a basic set of unspoken rules to survive in Vein’s turbulent world: be stronger and smarter than those who want you dead, do as you’re told, and don’t get attached to anyone or anything. Vein is well aware that not following any of these rules is as good as signing your own death warrant.
Xia Fei is not hard to figure out.
As Vein quickly discovers, he is more than just a pretty face—he is a physics nerd, a chatterbox, a cinephile and someone who wears his heart on his sleeve. A dangerous thing to do, but not as dangerous as getting close to someone like Vein.
Vein doesn’t answer when Xia Fei calls him for the first time. A second call quickly follows, which he also ignores, and then a third one, which finally annoys Vein enough to wipe the blood off his hands and pick up his phone.
“Boss, I’m sorry. I got into trouble,” Xia Fei says as soon as the call goes through, sounding drunk and slurring his words. “There’s a guy in the bar, and I think he doesn’t like me.”
“Why are you even calling me?” Vein asks, not angry yet, but neither glad to hear that someone working for him is completely hammered.
“I’m afraid!” Xia Fei sobs. “I don’t know what to do! I called a guy a brainless brute, and now I’m hiding in the bathroom!”
The absurd explanation, coupled with Xia Fei’s failed attempts to sniffle his pathetic little whimpers that are equally miserable and funny, has Vein chuckling.
“And you thought it was a good idea to call me?” Vein questions, feeling his lips curving up into a smile despite himself.
“Boss, don’t laugh!” Xia Fei whines. “You gave me your card and told me to call you if I needed anything.”
Yes, Vein did it, but it was only out of courtesy. He never expected to actually receive a call from Xia Fei, just like his employees never call him to ask for his help, unless they want to lose a finger or two.
“Boss, help! I don’t know what to do,” Xia Fei continues, moaning sadly.
Vein glances at the man in front of him, handcuffed to the chair, and the bloody mess staining his clothes, the furniture, and the polished wooden floors. After a busy day of work, he can appreciate a distraction, so he decides to entertain whatever is going on.
“Send me your location.” Vein hangs up and walks out of the room, picking up his coat on the way.
By the time he gets into his car, there is a new message waiting for him, a map displaying the address of a cheap sports pub near downtown.
It doesn’t take long for him to get there and find Xia Fei hiding in the restroom. It’s certainly more difficult to drag someone as tall as him out of the establishment. At some point, the man who had cornered Xia Fei earlier blocks their path, and Vein can’t help but agree that he looks like a cowardly, brainless brute. It only takes one sharp look from Vein for the man to take a step back.
Vein has to pay Xia Fei’s bill before they leave, and that’s how he discovers that Xia Fei is a lightweight who most likely doesn’t know—or simply ignores—his own limits.
The drive back is silent except for the occasional mumbled apology from Xia Fei. He is uncharacteristically quiet, keeping his lips pressed in a thin line. Vein supposes that he must be embarrassed about his reckless behavior, but then Xia Fei bends forward and throws up in Vein’s car.
The body falls lifelessly in front of the young boy’s bewildered eyes. There is blood everywhere, his hands are shaking as he holds the gun, not quite processing what has happened until he walks away and lurches forward, emptying his stomach.
The first time Vein takes Xia Fei out for dinner, they are accompanied by the editor of a popular magazine. She is a woman in her early forties whose name Vein doesn’t bother to remember. She looks too pleased to sit next to Bridon’s new star model.
She wanted to discuss the details of the modeling contract with Xia Fei in person, and Vein accompanied him as his boss and manager. He probably would have done it even if Xia Fei hadn’t asked him to come along too, just to ensure they got the best possible deal.
“You’re such a charming young man,” the woman says, getting a bit closer to Xia Fei.
Xia Fei smiles politely, but Vein can see his knuckles turning white as he moves away until he’s almost falling off his chair. The woman is not dissuaded by it and leans even closer to him.
“Felix, is there a problem with the food?” Vein asks Xia Fei, interrupting the exchange happening in front of him. “You’ve barely touched your dinner.”
“No, that’s not it! The food is great!” Xia Fei rushes to explain, eating a mouthful of roasted vegetables for good measure.
“Good to know, but there’s still something not right,” Vein meets the editor’s gaze, sinking his fork into the tender meat and sliding his knife across the fibers, leaving a fine cut in its wake. “You see, I don’t know if you’re aware yet, but I don’t like people touching what’s mine, including my employees.”
Vein brings a piece of meat to his mouth and chews calmly. In contrast, the woman looks scandalized by Vein’s words, as her face quickly gains color. Out of embarrassment for being caught, or anger? It doesn’t matter.
“What are you trying to imply?” she exclaims.
Vein lowers his cutlery and stands up with a fake smile. “Nothing, of course, but we’re leaving.”
“But!” Xia Fei jumps to his feet. “What about the contract?”
“I’ll get you a better one. Or would you rather stay here?” Vein grits his teeth, suddenly feeling a new surge of anger at the prospect of Xia Fei choosing to stay with that woman instead of walking out of the door with him.
Xia Fei swallows and looks taken aback. He shakes his head. “No.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Vein throws a few bills onto the table and grabs Xia Fei’s wrist more forcefully than needed in an impulsive afterthought. He tells himself it’s only to drag Xia Fei out of the restaurant, but he feels triumphant until he lets Xia Fei go.
“Boss, I—”
“Always aim for the best,” Vein tells him. “Don’t waste your time on people who don’t deserve it.”
Xia Fei nods. “Alright, boss.”
He looks remorseful, as if he is still blaming himself for missing the deal, but there is something about his sad eyes doesn’t sit right with Vein. Almost as if he can’t bear to see such dejection on his face.
“Let’s go get hot pot,” Vein suggests. “My treat.”
“Hot pot?” Xia Fei asks.
“The best in Bridon. Something better than this boring French Michelin restaurant,” Vein pauses. “You like hot pot, right?”
“I do.”
“Great!” Vein slings an arm around Xia Fei’s slumped shoulders and guides him to his car, determined to have a good night after all.
Friends, lovers, acquaintances, colleagues—all of them disposable. All of them represented useless, meaningless connections. Vein didn’t need anyone but himself.
Xia Fei is not easy to figure out.
Anyone might assume that time would only make him easier for Vein to read, but the reality is that longer he spends with Xia Fei, the more Vein realizes that he knows nothing about him.
“I hate it.” That’s all Xia Fei says when he sees the very first billboard with his face on it. The first of many, as per his contract, to appear in Bridon’s busy streets.
Vein frowns. He asked for Xia Fei’s opinion about the ad campaign, but he expected a different reaction. Maybe not Xia Fei overflowing with joy, but not this kind of pessimism either.
Xia Fei sighs but still grabs his phone and takes a selfie in front of the billboard.
“What do you hate about it?” Vein asks.
Xia Fei shrugs, reluctant to talk about the subject.
“You can trust me,” Vein promises.
“It’s complicated, boss.”
From what Vein has gathered, Xia Fei doesn’t get along with the rest of the models working at his agency and he doesn’t make conversation with the staff either, so Vein can only assume that something has gone wrong in that area.
“I’ll fire the make-up artists.”
“No, it’s not their fault!” Xia Fei is quick to object.
“Then, that good-for-nothing photographer!” Vein should have fired him when he arrived 15 minutes late for the shoot with a stupid excuse about missing his train.
“There’s no need for that, boss!” Xia Fei shakes his head. “No one has to lose their job!”
“What is it then?” Vein asks, some frustration bleeds into his tone.
Xia Fei hesitates, staring down at his hands as he mindlessly traces patterns on his phone’s blocked screen.
“I don’t like it when people remind me that I’m good-looking,” Xia Fei mumbles, finally confessing the truth.
“Well, you are,” Vein tells him bluntly. “Very good-looking, in fact.” He clears his throat.
He has flirted with more people than he can remember; meaningless fun that fits and fuels his charming persona, but this might be the first time his heart has skipped a beat when his eyes meet Xia Fei’s wide-open ones.
“It’s only one of your qualities, of course,” Vein continues, letting his tongue run recklessly.
Xia Fei looks away, but not before Vein notices his burning red cheeks. Professionalism is the last thing on Vein’s mind as he chuckles and playfully tousles Xia Fei’s hair. Xia Fei’s hands fly to his head and he pouts when their eyes meet
He is cute. Naturally, Vein has to stop thinking about it.
“Magazines with your picture on the cover will go on for sale next month,” he reminds him, choosing to stare at the other ads that light up the plaza.
“I know,” Xia Fei whines.
“Want me to renegotiate the contract?” Vein wouldn’t have offered to do so for anyone else, but for some reason, he can’t bear the thought of doing nothing to alleviate Xia Fei’s discomfort.
“I don’t want you to do that, boss!” Xia Fei says.
“But you don’t want to see your face on a magazine cover either, right?”
Xia Fei shakes his head. Vein can guess what’s going on inside his brain, most likely, yet another contradiction.
“The new term is starting soon,” Xia Fei grudgingly admits.
Vein doesn’t ask any more questions. He understands. The Royal Academy of Bridon is nowhere near affordable, so it makes sense for Xia Fei to prefer the discomfort over any potential income loss.
Vein feels somewhat compelled to help Xia Fei. Perhaps it’s because he is the boss and Xia Fei’s productivity will improve if he’s happy and healthy, so he feels some sense of responsibility for his wellbeing.
He upgrades Xia Fei’s health insurance coverage as soon as he returns to his office.
A reputation is not built overnight. It comes with time. Vein knows that he doesn’t have a reputation for being kind or compassionate at all, and has upheld this reputation for so long that it feels completely out of character to think he could be anything but that.
Vein is not sure when it happened, but somewhere along the line, there is a shift in their relationship.
Xia Fei starts calling more often, and Vein lets him. He never allows any of his other employees to call him unless it is an important matter that requires his utmost attention, but it’s different when it’s Xia Fei on the other end of the line.
It becomes a habit for Xia Fei to call Vein after work, after class or whenever he is bored enough to find an excuse to call, and Vein doesn’t mind.
Xia Fei also gets used to asking Vein for his help whenever he is in trouble, even daring to tell him to hurry up between sobs. Vein doesn’t hesitate to help every single time.
Vein has given up trying to figure out Xia Fei’s intentions because he can seem closed off, but it only takes one beer for him to start ranting to Vein about his job, and a little more alcohol for him to start revealing the other models’ secrets.
It’s fascinating.
“I’m telling you, boss, he only paid for my drinks because he wanted me to cover for him,” Xia Fei rambles, drunk and hanging off Vein’s arm. “He was like… I’ll buy you another gin if you don’t tell our boss that I stole the fancy hairdryer, and I said yes… but I’ll have more than one gin because you're paying, and—oh! Oops, I just told you, boss.”
“So, you got drunk because you wanted him to spend all his money tonight?” Vein guesses.
“Yes! That’s right, boss!” Xia Fei exclaims. “It’s almost like you were there.”
Xia Fei is attractive and smart, and a stubborn idiot who never learns. He keeps getting wasted and getting into trouble. Yet, he evokes a feeling in Vein’s chest that he can’t quite describe, but that won’t go away, no matter how hard he tries to find something to distract himself.
“Boss, are you going to fire Michael?” Xia Fei asks. Vein can’t even remember the guy on a good day, but he supposes he now has a reason to let him go.
“Yes.” Vein nods. “I can’t let theft go without any repercussions.”
“He won’t buy me more drinks, then.” Xia Fei sounds genuinely disappointed, and Vein realizes that he hates the idea of anyone else buying anything for Xia Fei.
He flicks Xia Fei’s forehead and smiles when Xia Fei whines and rubs his skin.
“That was mean!”
“I had to fish you out of a bar on a Tuesday night. You have no place to talk.” Vein stops in front of his car, but pauses before opening the door. “Can you promise not to throw up in my car again?”
“I don’t think so.” At least Xia Fei is honest.
“I’ll discount the cleaning from your paysheet,” Vein jokes and pushes Xia Fei into the passenger’s seat.
Xia Fei giggles and holds onto Vein’s sleeve, clearly too drunk to worry about money.
“I like you, boss.” Xia Fei’s smile is bright, and Vein silently promises to give him a raise if he manages to keep his dizziness at bay.
There’s comfort in loneliness. Being alone means that Vein will never have to worry about anyone else; he is only ever responsible for himself in this cruel, ruthless world.
Vein’s desk is covered in documents. Some are new, some have been stacked in neat piles for months, and there’s also an ever-growing pile of modeling contracts that he has to go through before the end of the month.
However, he ignores the paperwork to review some photos from Xia Fei’s latest photoshoot. He looks great in all of them, posing and smiling easily for the camera despite his secret dislike of the spotlight.
The pictures quickly engulf the rest of the documents on his desk until there is no trace of them, and Vein can only see Xia Fei’s charming face.
A knock on the door distracts him from his very important task. He can only grumble, “Come in.” before the door slams open, to reveal a couple of his subordinates.
Vein has never bothered to learn their names, as they mean nothing to him, but he recognizes them as two guys who sometimes run errands for him.
“Why are you here?” Vein asks.
“It’s done, boss,” one of them says, letting a bloody knife and a crudely severed finger fall onto Vein’s desk. Red splatters stain Xia Fei’s pictures and Vein frowns. He’ll have to ask for another copy of those.
A moment passes and the men stand rooted in place.
“Why are you still here?”
“The target stabbed one of our mates, and he bled to death,” the man explains. “We deserve a bigger compensation.”
“No,” Vein sentences without even thinking about it. “Now, get out of my sight.”
The man, who had remained silent until now, walks to Vein’s desk to grab one of the photos with his dirty hands.
“You’ve surely grown fond of this bumbling idiot, boss,” the other man sneers. “It’d be a shame if something bad ever happened to him.”
“Right, you sure wouldn’t want anything to happen to his pretty little face.” Both men laugh.
Vein chuckles and pushes his chair back, standing to his full height. His steps are slow and measured as he rounds the desk, sliding his hand over the remaining photos until he is face to face with the man who dared to threaten Xia Fei.
“Right, right, I wouldn’t want that.” Vein plunges the knife from the desk into the man’s thigh.
His intention is not to kill the man, at least not yet, but to make him scream in agony and drop the photo he shouldn’t have grabbed in the first place. His companion stays frozen in place, shock evident on his face.
“Boss, I—”
“Don’t you dare lay a hand on him.” Vein twists the knife, relishing in the way the man yelps. “I’ll spill your insides if any of you miserable rats dare to hurt him. Understood?”
It’s a surprising, but not an unexpected, realization. Vein wouldn’t hesitate to spill their guts and reduce their bones and sinew to nothing for Xia Fei—to protect him.
The man nods. His face is twisted in pain, and tears spill from his eyes.
“Get out of my face!” Vein pushes the man away, and they both scramble out of the door like cowards.
Vein clicks his tongue and picks up the photo from the ground. It’s stained with blood too, so he’ll also have to ask for another copy.
At some point, red eyeliner became part of Vein’s identity. A bold, crimson line across his eyelids that brings out the color of his eyes.
Vein made sure to put a bullet thought the heart of anyone who dared to mock him for it. He always did it for his own sake, never for someone else’s.
The Bridon Eye is definitely bigger than Vein remembers, but perhaps he never paid enough attention to it to truly remember its dimensions. After all, he doesn’t often visit places overcrowded with tourists. But it was one of the main suggestions online for special celebrations, as Vein discovered.
The celebration in question is Xia Fei finishing his term on top of his class. Vein promised him a secret reward if he got good grades after catching him studying between takes, with a huge book in his hands and worried, teary eyes.
Vein wasn’t sure if Xia Fei would like the surprise, but he has been staring at the wheel with interest since they arrived, so maybe it will be a success.
At some point, Vein decided to go all out for the celebration, reserving a private pod so they could enjoy the ride and a bottle of fine champagne by themselves.
Xia Fei looks completely taken aback when Vein tells him that they’re skipping the queue and going straight into their own pod, as if he never expected to experience such luxury. If Vein is honest, the price is a little too high for a 30-minute ride, but the amused expression on Xia Fei’s face when he accepts the flute of champagne is priceless.
“This is too much,” Xia Fei says, staring at Bridon’s skyline. “It feels more like a graduation present, than something to celebrate the end of the term.”
“It’s not too much for my favorite employee.” There it is: the unspoken truth of what’s been going on between them.
Xia Fei laughs, clearly nervous. His whole face turns red as he reaches to take Vein’s hand and rest his head on Vein’s shoulder. He babbles non-stop into his ear about the first time he came across a test question about the angular speed of the Bridon’s Eye, whatever that is, but Vein can only focus on the pounding of his own heart in his ears.
That’s funny.
Vein doesn’t have a heart. Perhaps he used to have one, once upon a time, before life sank its unrelenting fangs into the thick, muscular fibers to shred it to pieces.
The dying daylight tints everything into mellow oranges, yellows, and pinks, including Xia Fei’s face when he looks at Vein after taking another sip of champagne.
Vein doesn’t know soft, only rough, sharp edges.
Maybe that’s why his fists shake when Xia Fei gently kisses him, their lips touching for an instant, before Xia Fei takes a step back, with eyes as big as saucers, like he can’t believe he just did that.
Somehow, it feels like the most in-character thing for Xia Fei to do—to go in for a kiss and then look at Vein with incredulous eyes. Vein can’t help himself when he grabs Xia Fei by the shoulders and kisses him again, sweetly, slowly, softly.
Little Xiao Weiying was young, soft, and weak, and Vein made sure to bury him a long time ago.
Xia Fei is still not easy to figure out.
One day, he complains that the other models at the agency are mean to him and imply that he is the most successful of them because he slept his way to the top, and the next, he bravely pushes Vein down onto his own bed with feigned confidence, betrayed by his red face and shaky hands.
Vein pushes himself up to rest on his elbows and stares at Xia Fei undressing with a fond smile.
There must be something wrong with Vein because he thinks it’s ridiculously endearing how Xia Fei’s arms get tangled in his long-sleeved black shirt when he tries to take it off, instead of finding it deeply annoying.
Something is not right with him, and yet, he doesn’t care for anything besides indulging in the moment.
“Need any help?” Vein can’t help but tease, sliding his tongue across his kiss-swollen lips, courtesy of Xia Fei’s sharp teeth. He is still fully clothed and curious to see what Xia Fei will do about it, as his heart pounds like a drum with anticipation inside his chest.
“No.” Xia Fei finally frees himself from his shirt and lets it fall to the floor. His jacket has been abandoned somewhere down the hallway, but it doesn’t seem like Xia Fei cares about keeping his clothes in a neat pile.
The awkwardness doesn’t dissipate as Xia Fei’s fingers fumble to open his jeans.
Vein stares openly at Xia Fei’s toned body, thanking his past self for putting him on a healthy diet and a workout regimen, before his chuckles escalate into full-blown laughter when Xia Fei also struggles to kick off his pants. He fails to slide the fabric down his long legs and stumbles before popping down next to Vein in bed.
“Stop laughing, boss,” Xia Fei whines and pouts.
Xia Fei’s trembling hands reach to tug at Vein’s clothes, and Vein lets him do as he wishes—lets Xia Fei open his dress shirt and unbutton his pants and slide an unsure but tender palm across his bare torso.
Up close, Vein notices that the mauve circles around Xia Fei’s eyes, which are often hidden by a thick layer of makeup, now stand out even more under the artificial light of the bedside lamp that casts deeper shadows all over his young face.
The other models are superficial idiots. Even if there wasn’t anything else going on between them, Vein would offer Xia Fei the best job contracts, because he knows how hard he works as a model and as a student. It’s only fair for him to get them.
Vein hands move before he can think about it and cup Xia Fei’s face. His thumbs travel across the smooth skin of Xia Fei’s cheekbones below the swollen bags under his eyes.
“Boss?” Xia Fei starts, staring at Vein,
“Never change, Feifei,” Vein says with kind sincerity.
Vein doesn’t give Xia Fei any time to process the cute, affectionate nickname, or to ask what he means by his words, before he wraps his arms around Xia Fei’s torso, pulling him closer, and kissing him.
Xia Fei doesn’t complain, melting into the embrace and not letting go.
There was a time when Xiao Weiying used to wonder if anyone could ever love him, but from birth, it was clear that nobody held any kind of affection for him.
“You’ve gone soft.”
Vein tenses as though he has been struck by lightning, and looks up to meet Liu Xiao’s mocking smile. He swallows and forces his shoulders to relax.
“Why are you here?” he asks.
Liu Xiao shrugs, walking up to sit atop Vein’s desk.
He offers a single photo to Vein. It’s a blurry but distinctive shot of him and Xia Fei, standing shoulder to shoulder with twin smiles and warm eyes. He remembers the moment from a couple of days ago, and how Xia Fei recklessly turned to face him a moment after to press a kiss to his cheek, not caring about anyone who could have seen them. Maybe they should’ve cared, after all.
“So what?” Vein raises an eyebrow.
“Oh, it’s nothing.” Liu Xiao smiles. “I just assumed that you’d get tired of him after a few weeks.”
“Why do you care, Xavier?”
“I’m just curious about why you’d want to keep a little nerd like him around.”
“That’s none of your business.” Vein finally snatches the photo from Liu Xiao’s fingers, ignoring the way he smiles, like he expected Vein to take the bait sooner or later.
“Don’t get all defensive. I like the guy too, not as much as you do, but he has good taste in movies.”
“Why are you still here?” Vein asks. “Don’t you have homework to do, or something?”
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about my performance at school,” Liu Xiao replies. “You already have a stressed-out student to keep an eye on.”
Vein grimaces.
“Chill, I’m not taking him from you.”
“As if you could,” Vein snorts.
“He’s not my type anyway.” Liu Xiao jumps off the desk and stands in front of Vein with a hand in his pocket. “Cute is nice, but I prefer the thrill of danger, if you know what I mean.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“I’ll take my leave, then,” Liu Xiao turns around and looks at Vein one last time over his shoulder. “Kindness doesn’t suit you, you know?”
“I know,” Vein says.
When he is alone again, Vein stares down at the photo of himself and Xia Fei. Although it’s true that gentleness will never be a part of his life, he puts the photo in his drawer instead of throwing it in the bin.
There is a new model at the agency. He is an amateur, but he has a pretty face to make up for it. Perhaps that’s why several men try to push him under the water, and Vein has to get his hands dirty with them before reaching in to help him out, unaware that their lives will change when their eyes meet.