Winter Wind (YiZhan)

6. Awake

Two Weeks Later

The paintings are placid.

One is of the sky, in a diluted, tranquil blue, and its clouds- a soft pink, with strokes of white and the occasional burn of magenta at the tips. Another is of a lake, in a misty, dull turquoise, overshadowed by mountain peaks with cold tufts of snow, and stained with a dark eerie grey- meadows for its banks.

They all reflect his heart, some originating from his mind and others off of external inspiration.

From Huaban to be exact.

He detests Weibo.

Being praised above and beyond through it had been the exhilaration of a lifetime, until the reverse became the case and his entire world had crumbled.

He'd been criticized, mocked, cursed, and shunned, and it is all still a nightmare he doesn't know if he will ever be able to fully recover from.

So he avoids it, with all of his heart while Huaban has gained his favor.

Currently, he is perusing through for inspiration for his next project. This will be the second one for the week, the earlier eight, in different canvas sizes now living in a corner of his balcony.

He is so intent on his search that when the sudden WeChat message pings an alert on his phone, he is almost startled.

It's his manager, Nini, and her question is the same. "Any updates?"

His eyes go to the recliner in the corner, and on the leather surface is a stack of three unopened envelopes.

Scripts, offering to pull him back into work.

However, he no longer wishes to strive.

So he ignores the message and returns to scrolling through the pins.

Then he comes across something.

It is not some horizon or landscape... but a performance.

The pin automatically begins to play, and it is now a bit difficult to look away. Especially as the music begins.

The start is quick and playful, and then it becomes heavy and thrilling.

These however are not the reasons why his breath has stopped in his throat.

It is because Wang Yibo, flanked by a team of two dancers behind him and encircled by several dozens of people is in the throes of what seems to be a dance battle.

His eyes are glazed as though he has been possessed, his hands twisting and moving mesmerizingly across his body. Then he drops down to a knee at the dip of the music.

Everything stops for a moment including the song, and the camera zooms into Yibo. The tip of his tongue slips out through flushed, peach lips and then the side lifts in a smirk.

Xiao Zhan is assaulted with a sharp inhale.

With a boom, the song resumes, and the three burst into a spirited routine that Xiao Zhan can barely track.

He doesn't need to however because his eyes are solely on Wang Yibo, and the pit of his stomach has been set on fire.

Xiao Zhan has never seen him dance this way.

Perhaps it is because of the song, or the intimate setting of the surrounding audience rather than the usual distance of a stage, but Wang Yibo seems to now be in a state that is anything but restrained.

Suddenly, his whole body falls to the floor, and he then proceeds to hump so hard against it in quick successive thrusts that the phone falls from Xiao Zhan's hand.