baby, you're my angel | chan/felix; stray kids

Chapter 9

It's like Felix's world has turned monochrome. There's safety in it, certainly; after about a week of excitement, the rumors died down and the online world went back to normal. Chan still posted some of their songs; Felix promotes them as he always would. Rachel approved this with the stipulation that they don't talk beyond sharing files, and Chan has stuck to it dutifully.

There's a part of Felix that's furious about it, that it's so easy for Chan to give him up. A particularly nasty part of him is spiteful—of course it's easy for Chan to go back to how it was before; he's used to heartbreak, he's used to being alone. And maybe Felix didn't have such a profound impact on him as he said he did. But Felix knows that's not fair. Still, it hurts to see random clips of his other videos where he seems completely normal. When people ask about Felix, Chan doesn't even bat an eye.

"I made him go study," Chan says cheerfully. "He's got finals coming up and all. Told him that just 'cuz he's got a job lined up doesn't mean he can slack off now, you know? That goes for all of you out there finishing up the school year! Stop watching my videos and go study!"

It hurts like nothing else, makes Felix feel pathetic for missing him, for thinking about him all the fucking time. He wants to think it's the same for Chan, but every day it seems like that's less and less possible.

For the most part, though, he does try to keep his promise to Rachel. He tries not to wallow too much, tries to stay in the world. He studies, he hangs out with his friends, he goes to parties, even when all he feels like doing is curling up in a sad little ball on his bed. Every time he laughs, it feels a little hollow. But at least he's laughing, right? He could be worse. It could be worse.

But honestly, Felix does spend a lot of time thinking about how unfair it is. His parents have a similar age gap. Sure, they met after college, when his mom was thirty-three and his dad was twenty-three, but ten years isn't so different from fourteen. Is it? So why do his parents get to be happy, while he has to suffer? If he and Chan had only met a year or two later, people probably wouldn't care at all.

He gets it, you know. That's part of what attracted him to Chan in the first place, that he was older, that it's taboo. And honestly, if he was an outsider, he would be scandalized, too. He'd be worried for himself, and vaguely disgusted with Chan. But no one knows what it's like inside, no one but him and Chan. It's not that Chan was waiting around to prey on someone young and vulnerable. It's just that most people his age hadn't gone through something like he had, so they were in a different place than he was. And sure, with time Felix thinks Chan could find someone his own age with a similar background and similar goals, but—why should he wait, when Felix is right here?

He only texts Chan once. He doesn't know if it's better or worse that he's completely sober when it happens, just up late studying, and stressed and lonely, and before he can think it over, he sends I miss you, plain and simple.

Chan responds within minutes. You shouldn't be contacting me, Felix. We both promised your sister. And you know it's for the best.

The worst part is, even this message makes him happy—just to see Chan's name light up his phone, to read the words in his voice.

I know, Felix replies. I'm just tired, and I miss you. That's all.

I'm sorry. I can't say it enough, Chan sends back, and Felix knows the conversation is over. He puts his phone down and lays his head on his desk, wrapping his arms around himself. Why is it so hard? If we can't be together, why can't I just be okay, and move on?

He sits there at least a half an hour, unmoving, and then resigns himself to the knowledge that he won't be getting any more studying done tonight. Reluctantly, he drags himself to his feet, grabbing his towel so he can go wash up and get ready for bed.