attention | gyuricky

nineteen.

"He's not going to pick up," Gyuvin says immediately, dismissive. "There's no point in trying, not when he's avoiding us."

Zhanghao shakes his head. "No, he always picks up his phone if it's someone he knows. I started noticing it last year, but he's the only person I know who actually answers everytime someone calls. It's kind of weird, actually."

Gyuvin thinks back to the only times he's called Ricky; the first time when he got drunk at the club and forgot his keys, and the last time when he'd passed out at the supply room. Even though they were nowhere close to being on good terms back then, Ricky had come to his rescue every time he'd needed it. "Right, he does, now that I think about it," he muses. "So, since he's mad at both of us, who's going to call him?"

They flip a coin for it. Luck isn't on Gyuvin's side that day; the coin lands on heads, and he reluctantly takes his phone out from the back pocket of his jeans and puts it on the table. "It's my phone, so you make the call," he says childishly, and Zhanghao doesn't protest, but sends him an exasperated look as he picks up the phone to dial Ricky's number.

Zhanghao's not wrong, and Ricky picks up after four rings, though he doesn't seem to be happy about it.

"What?"

"Hey!" Gyuvin begins, overly cheerfully, after Zhanghao lands an elbow in his stomach. "Just called to see if you were okay, since you haven't been around the past couple of days..."

"I'm fine."

"But where have you been? Don't you have classes?"

Ricky's purposefully silent in a way Gyuvin knows means "nothing to do with you", but Zhanghao elbows him again, and Gyuvin adds another sentence in retaliation. "Zhanghao wants to know," he finishes triumphantly.

"You guys are seriously unbelievable."

The line disconnects, and Gyuvin and Zhanghao exchange looks. "Got a Plan B?"

Zhanghao nods, standing. "Come on, let's go for a drive."

─

"This is fancy," Gyuvin observes calmly, watching the houses along the street cruise past through tinted windows. "I never knew you grew up in this kind of place."

They're in Ricky and Zhanghao's neighbourhood, the expensive area of downtown Seoul where houses have security fences and driveways have multiple cars parked in them. Zhanghao's best guess was that Ricky might have gone home, whether to get away from Gyuvin or to get away from Zhanghao or some combination of both. He's familiar with Ricky's address, since they've been friends since middle school, and he keeps his eyes peeled as he drives, waiting for Ricky's street to flash by.

Zhanghao narrows his eyes at Gyuvin from the driver's seat. "Don't start."

"Wasn't gonna say anything," Gyuvin retorts, laughing. "Do you think he'll be pissed to see us? He did go back home to get away from us, after all."

"We don't know that for sure," Zhanghao says, though they both know it's probably true. "Anyway, we're not here to provoke him. I just want to make sure he's, you know."

"Alive?" Gyuvin offers helpfully. "Sane? Not dead?"

"How is not dead any different from alive?" says Zhanghao incredulously, as he brings the car to a stop, reversing neatly into a parallel parking spot.

"It is different. I'm not dead after coming home from four back to back classes, but I'm definitely not alive either."

"You're ridiculous, seriously. Be normal, I'm ringing the doorbell," Zhanghao smacks him lightly on the stomach as a warning before straightening his expression out and looking into the security camera by the front gate and pressing the doorbell.