concert twelve

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"café shin. 4 o'clock. what the hell?" xiao stared at his phone, the time now being a solid 3:35. he knows he has to get going soon but he's suddenly overflowing with these nerves he never knew he had. nerves that are a hundred times different than being on stage. being on stage is exhilarating, breathtaking, invigorating even. this on the other hand, this meet up- he feels disoriented. 

he abruptly closes his eyes and slaps his face with both of his hands for a sense of encouragement. he's definitely not one to be like this, but what can you do when you're having a mid-life crisis just because you're meeting up with possibly your favourite person ever?  ugh. 

"12, 11, 10," he started counting, giving himself exactly twelve seconds to pick a shirt so he doesn't regret anything later. "9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1." his finishes off with a grey turtle neck. "i feel like that was very unnecessary." he muttered, referring to the (indeed unnecessary) countdown. 

either way, he threw the quite boring piece of clothing on his bed behind him, and decided he would pick an outfit centred around the long sleeve shirt. black pants and a white cardigan. easy enough right? yeah the pants may be starting to rip and be seriously worn out but- anything he wears will become a fashion trend anyways. he closed his blinding white closet door shut before quickly changing into the picked outfit. 

he looks around, grabbing a white hat with a simple teal leaf design on it, and his black paper mask he tends to wear everywhere. he gets sick a little too much within the course of a few months. some of that may have to do with G.I's overworking of idols, but what do fans know? xiao makes his way down stairs at a record time of 34 seconds, and he quickly grabs his black converse and forces them on his feet with no given mercy. those shoes have been through it. 

phone, check. wallet, check. bag to carry everything with extra hair ties, check. mask, check. hat, check. he gave himself a quick embarrassing thumbs up in his mirror in the entry way, and was about to run out the door when someone called his name. 

"xiao? where are you going? it's too early to get dinner." his mother said, walking up towards him and taking off his hat in one swift movement. 

"i'm going out to meet some agents who wanted to talk about a collaboration. i said we could talk prices now," he lied. he almost laughed, the first time he lied to his mother was for a boy. well technically, venti did want to collaborate.. how funny. she brushed through his hair with her fingers, making it flat against his head. 

"really? how much were you thinking?" she asked, voice seeming more greedy than most mothers would be. xiao stayed quiet for a moment.

"i don't know, a couple thousand. it's only a collaboration, they don't really need to pay a lot." again with the lying. he knew the only way to get out was to bribe her with money somehow.

"i'll be late mom," he said in a more frantic tone. "i'll see you later. do you want chinese for dinner? maybe something else?" 

"chinese. you know what i like don't you?" she questioned, pulling him into a hug. "have a good time. come back and tell me the verdict." 

he nodded. her hug has never felt like such a lie before today.

once he finally got out the door, he began running down the sidewalk, holding his hat in place so the wind didn't blow it off and possibly have his cover blown. it was almost 4 and he wasn't really close to the café at all. maybe 5 minutes? 

at least one thing xiao had was stamina. once he did arrive (two minutes late), he opened the door forcefully, gasping for air. did he really have to run? no. did he want to be on time- maybe a little. 

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