where stars land | haobin

fourteen.

Life returns to a certain level of monotony, after a while. A week becomes two weeks, three weeks. Hanbin gets used to heading to school and back alone, gets used to going home on time every Wednesday because he doesn't have to wait around in school for orchestra practice to end. He gets used to the fact that his first call when he needs help is to Matthew now, and that he can't just text Zhanghao at any hour of the day and get an immediate answer, can't even call him without thinking first whether he'll be awake to pick up.

He gets used to finishing all his homework in the afternoon, right after he gets home. He's always been the kind to stay up late, something about nighttime being quieter for him to focus on his work, but his nights are set aside for Zhanghao now. It's the only time of the day their time zones align well enough for them to talk, and he'll do anything except give up that precious hour or two a day they get to exist in the same moment from halfway across the world.

To Matthew's credit, he does do his absolute utmost to soften the blow. He sticks so close to Hanbin in the coming weeks that Hanbin barely gets a lick of alone time; he might have been annoyed had it been anyone else, but he could never be annoyed at Matthew. After all, he was the boy who'd competed with Hanbin to see who could swing higher in the schoolyard playground and shared his toys since before either of them could really speak. There was just something about sandbox love that was unshakeable through the ages.

The others do, too. The first day after Zhanghao left, their lunch table was so full Hanbin was jostling for elbow space. Gyuvin started asking them to join him and Ricky for lunch and study dates. Even Ricky would come up and sit beside him silently, on the days where they stayed behind to study and the classroom had emptied out, or he'd offer to pair up with Hanbin during gym, or he'd ask if Hanbin wanted anything from the vending machine downstairs when he was headed down during break.

There's something oddly comforting about being around Zhanghao's best friend. At the end of the day Hao was still gone, but he could hear little pieces of Hao in Ricky's speech, could see little similarities in their mannerisms. Ricky had the same neat Hangul handwriting, and the way he paused sometimes, mid-conversation as if he was thinking in another language, was unbearably reminiscent.

"How are you doing?" Ricky asks the question casually, stopping by Hanbin's desk on his way out of the classroom, but Hanbin knows he really cares; he isn't just making small talk.

Hanbin smiles. It's weird; he and Ricky were never the closest, partly because they didn't have much in common other than being in the same friend circle and class, but the extra effort Ricky's been putting out to check on him as of late fills his heart with something warm. "I'm okay, Ricky. You don't have to worry about me, you know?"

"I'm not worried." The tips of his ears pink just the slightest bit. He's never been the best liar, out of all of them. "Just asking. You want anything from the vending machine? I'm headed down."

Hanbin shakes his head and thanks him, but when Ricky returns, he puts a carton of melon milk down at the corner of his table and walks by without saying anything.

"So, anyway, I was heading home from dance practice earlier, and-"

"Hold on, at the studio?"

"Yeah." Hanbin usually waits for Hao to call just because he doesn't want to wake him (everyone knows how Zhanghao is if he's awoken before he wakes himself). He's awake a little earlier today; the Facetime call is already ringing by the time he comes out of the shower.

"Oh. I thought you only went to the studio on Tuesdays and Fridays," Zhanghao answers. "Okay, go on."

"I gotta go in on Wednesdays from now till the competition is over," Hanbin continues. "But it's just temporary. I need to start studying for finals soon..."

"What competition?"

Hanbin stops in his tracks for a moment. "Ah, I must have forgotten to tell you," he says suddenly. "The studio put together a dance team for this really big national competition. It's gonna be huge and there's gonna be teams coming into Seoul to compete from all over Korea."

"That's so exciting! When is it?"

There were more and more of these moments as of late. Hanbin tried his best not to notice them, but they'd whisk past him like an insect at the edge of his periphery, flying by just briefly enough he had to wonder if it was real or if he'd been hallucinating. Moments where it caught him off guard, the realization that Hao was losing touch with everything going on in his life.

It terrified him. He tried not to let it get to him, but it crept up on him nevertheless, on nights where he couldn't sleep; the fact that the person whose life had been intertwined with his for the better part of eighteen years was beginning to unravel towards a different path, pulling further and further away with every passing day. It was like looking back and realizing the person you'd thought was right behind you had fallen behind somewhere along the way. If he squinted, he could see Zhanghao in the distance, a familiar silhouette, a familiar face, but that was it. He could go no closer.

"Something's changing." Hanbin's lying on his bed, watching the headlights of passing cars in the street cast long fingers of yellow over the corners of his bedroom.

His laptop screen was bright. Zhanghao's voice was soft, achingly so, his hair still messy from sleep. "I know."

"I'm scared."

"I know." A long moment passes. Hanbin closes his eyes and tries to imagine Zhanghao is next to him. He can't. "I am too."