where stars land | haobin

eight.

The rest of the day passes without him really noticing it. It's something new, something fresh having Matthew beside him instead of Hao; there's a different kind of comfort in being around his childhood best friend that no one else has ever really been able to replicate, and he's grateful for Matthew's presence to take his mind off Hao and the real reason why they're even going through the charade of pretending to break up in the first place.

"Hanbin-ah," Matthew calls, stretching in his seat as the bell rings to signal the end of the school day. "I wanna go get some coffee before football practice. Come with me?"

Hanbin frowns. "I don't know, I'm not really-"

"That wasn't a question." Matthew drags him away by the wrist, towards the door. "I know you're feeling down, and I'm gonna listen, so come."

"Seriously, you're impossible..." Hanbin gives in, laughing as he slips his wallet into the back pocket of his pants on his way out the door.

They don't stick around to sip their drinks in the cafe; there's too many students from their school around at this hour it's impossible to have any semblance of a private conversation. Matthew leads them the roundabout way back to school that takes them through a secluded, woodsy path that weaves through a park, and they settle down on a park bench in the shade from the afternoon sun.

"Tell me what's really going on," Matthew says, eyes steely. "Now. Seriously, I'm your best friend and I'm really worried about you. I've never seen you fight with Hao, like, ever."

"I don't know what's going on either," Hanbin answers, despondent. "He got a scholarship to study music in the States. They're paying for all of it and they're keeping him for four years. He's leaving in less than two weeks."

Matthew's speechless for a long moment, but recovers quickly. "Is that why you guys fought?"

"We didn't fight," Hanbin says. "I was a little upset that he kept it from me for so long, but I understand why. I'm not mad at him."

"Then why are you guys ignoring each other?"

"That was just some stupid thing I thought of," Hanbin says quickly. "I just wanted to see how it felt not having him around anymore."

Matthew nods, thinking. "Okay. How did it feel today?"

"Disregarding the fact that you and Gyuvin and the others were putting bandaids over my bulletholes the whole day?" Hanbin laughs. "I don't know. It still felt like he was there, even though we didn't acknowledge each other. I can't imagine what it'll be like when he really goes."

"Did it make you angry?" Matthew asks. There's no malice in his tone, only a comforting reminder that Hanbin can speak his mind freely without fearing any judgment. "That he put the scholarship over you?"

"I could never be angry with him." Hanbin shakes his head slowly, watching the mid-afternoon clouds traverse the open sky. "I just wish he didn't have to leave me."

Hanbin lets the tears overtake him for the second time in two days, and the warmth of Matthew's comfort keeps him anchored as the storm of grief and heartbreak and happiness and sadness threatens to engulf him entirely.

He apologizes for making his best friend miss his football practice, later when he's recovered enough for Matthew to stop worrying about him. Matthew says he doesn't care, which to his credit is actually true. He's the school team's star quarterback, after all, they wouldn't dream of benching him even if he set the whole campus on fire.

Hanbin walks him back to school, since they'd both left their things there thinking they'd be back soon after. Matthew heads off to join in for the last half hour of practice, and Hanbin deliberates for a minute over whether he should wait outside the auditorium for Zhanghao's orchestra practice to end.

He, ultimately, decides against it, taking the bus home by himself and getting started on homework early. He remains in a sort of ghosting state for the rest of the day, acting on autopilot, getting things done without really remembering what he did. No matter how hard he tries to clear the fog from his head, it lingers like a damp mist on a rainy autumn day, whiting out the windows of his mind regardless of how many times he tries to wipe it clean.

By the time one hour of sleeplessness rolls around, Hanbin decides he's giving up. He pulls a thick outer jacket over his pajamas, a pullover and sweatpants, and slips out the door without making any noise, careful not to wake his parents.

Hanbin's been over at Zhanghao's so many times over the years he reaches for the spare key wedged behind the little succulent plant at their doorstep without even having to think. Unlocking the door quietly, he looks for Zhanghao's bedroom door. It's the third door on the left, slightly ajar, with faint strains of classical music coming from within.

"Hao?"

Zhanghao's sitting cross-legged on the bed with a laptop open in front of him, and he looks up, momentarily startled to hear his name.

"Hanbin? Are you okay? Why are you here?"

"I can't do it anymore," Hanbin says quietly. "I think I'll lose my mind if I'm away from you any longer."

Zhanghao gets up to hug him without a second thought, and Hanbin thinks he's missed this feeling so much he can barely breathe.

"I missed you today." Zhanghao's voice is barely more than a whisper, considering the way they're enveloped in each others' arms. Hanbin doesn't even need to hear it to know. It's running through his veins, beating in his chest, intertwined in every breath he exhales; the lost, empty feeling that threatens to choke him every minute they're apart.

"I missed you too. I'm sorry."

Zhanghao gives him a mildly questioning glance when he finally pulls away. "What are you sorry about?"

An unreadable expression crosses Hanbin's face. "I don't know. Everything, maybe. Nothing."

"Are you not making sense because you're tired or because you're just like that?" Hao asks, laughing, tidying up the papers littered around his bed to make space for Hanbin to lie down. "Come on, let's go to sleep. I have to wake you earlier tomorrow so you can go home to get your stuff."

They spend the night together, a warm, familiar tangle of arms and legs and steady breathing. It's the best night's sleep Hanbin's had in a long while. As he drifts off into peace, he almost forgets how temporary it'll be. In his dreams, a second set of footprints follows him as he walks down a flower-paved road that doesn't seem to end as far as the eye can see.