What's the Point of Living, when the best is Sleeping? [BL]

7

Father Ye and Mother Ye sat across from each other, their eyes glued to their youngest son, Ye Ming, who was absently nibbling his thumbnail. On the surface, everything seemed fine—just a boy lost in thought. But beneath that calm exterior, the Ye couple was absolutely panicking. Their minds raced with wild thoughts, each more dramatic than the last.

Is our precious baby being bullied? Mother Ye's hands fidgeted in her lap, her face growing pale. Father Ye, sitting stiffly beside her, had the same thought, his usually calm composure completely shattered.

What if our precious baby is suffering silently? The possibility struck them hard. Ye Ming rarely spoke and seemed uninterested in socializing. He often looked tired—no, exhausted—and never shared what was going on in his mind. Is he struggling?

But the spiral didn't stop there.

What if our precious baby has contracted some terrible, deadly disease?! Mother Ye's breath hitched at the horrifying possibility, her imagination going into overdrive. He's always so quiet, maybe he's in pain!

Then came the most terrifying thought of all, one that sent both parents into an emotional tailspin.

What if our precious baby... has a lover?! Father Ye's grip on the armrest tightened, while Mother Ye gasped, clutching her heart. No! Not yet! He's only 17! How could he have a lover? And why didn't we know about it?!

Their minds were a whirlwind of what-ifs, spiraling out of control. He's too young! Too lazy! their thoughts chorused. He can't have a lover! He barely interacts with anyone, and he's definitely too lazy to even think about romance. Who would be worthy of spoon-feeding him?

Amid their panic, Ye Chuang, the eldest son of the Ye family, strolled in after a long day at work. His sharp eyes took in the scene as he loosened his necktie—Ye Ming, sitting in an oddly upright posture for once, gnawing on his thumbnail; and their parents, sitting opposite him, faces etched with worry and confusion.

Ye Chuang couldn't help but smirk internally. Here we go again. He was used to seeing his parents overreact, but even he had to admit that this situation looked particularly absurd. The youngest son, usually so slouched and lethargic, was sitting cross-legged in his school uniform, seemingly oblivious to the chaos he was causing.

His younger brother's face—a perfect blend of their Asian and Western lineage—was the picture of serenity, though Ye Chuang couldn't help but notice how his features gave off a vibe... well, more suited to a bottom, if you asked him. A strange thought, but there it was. Sounds wrong.

Breaking the silence, Ye Chuang called out, "Xiao Ming, what's going on? Spill it."

Ye Ming turned his head slightly, his sensitive nose twitching as he caught the smell of city pollution clinging to his brother's suit. His brows furrowed in distaste, but he didn't deign to answer properly.

"I won't tell you," he said flatly, his voice barely above a murmur. The thought of explaining anything to Ye Chuang felt exhausting, and the smell wasn't helping. Take a bath first, big brother, he thought, turning away, deep in his own contemplations once again.

Unbeknownst to Ye Chuang, the real reason behind Ye Ming's guarded demeanor wasn't anything he could explain easily. He had grown fond of the warmth his new family gave him—something that felt so foreign, yet so addicting. It was a selfish desire, but he wanted to keep that warmth all to himself, to lock it away somewhere safe where no one else could steal it.

The exhaustion crept up on him again. The mental strain of navigating his life in a world where fictional characters—both leads and supporting roles—could turn his life upside down was too much. The third male lead is coming tomorrow, he reminded himself with a sinking feeling in his gut. The seat next to him was empty, and it was a foregone conclusion that the new guy would sit there. Death row, right next to me. Great.

On top of that, his brief encounter with Guang Kai earlier had only cemented the fact that the story was progressing whether he liked it or not. I prayed for no encounters with the characters, and here we are.

The weariness hit him like a wave, his thoughts blurring as a small yawn escaped his lips. His eyes teared up, and his lazy, drowsy expression returned, much to Ye Chuang's amusement. There it is, the real Xiao Ming.

"Who's going to die?" a voice suddenly broke the tension, and Ye Ming's older sister, Ye Jia, walked in, eyeing their parents' bizarre expressions. She was half-joking, but there was an edge of curiosity in her voice.

Father Ye, caught off guard, stammered, "W-who?" His forehead now sported a nervous bead of sweat, clearly overwhelmed by his inner turmoil.

"This family is so dramatic," Ye Chuang muttered under his breath before shaking his head and heading for the bathroom. He knew better than to push Ye Ming for answers. Whatever's going on in that little head, he's not going to share.

Ye Ming barely noticed his older brothers' banter. His mind had wandered again to the ominous arrival of the third male lead. Another scumbag to deal with. He mentally listed off the personality traits of the three male leads and the female lead, trying to prepare himself.Li Wei, the tsundere type, with his ridiculous male lead buff from the author, who had probably never experienced actual romance.

Guang Kai, the kuudere strategist, always pulling the strings from behind the scenes.

And the third male lead... a mix of yandere tendencies and unpredictable mood swings, with a happy-go-lucky facade that masked his inner darkness. Why didn't he just kill the other two already? Ye Ming wondered, exasperated.

Just thinking about them made Ye Ming's head hurt. I just want to sleep, eat, and do nothing. Why do I have to deal with this?

As he settled back into his chair, letting the familiar lazy expression take over his face, he realized that his half-hearted plans to avoid the plot had already failed spectacularly. I never even used my brain properly. Maybe if I keep not using it, this whole mess will disappear...

But deep down, Ye Ming knew better. He had already caused a butterfly effect. Tomorrow, things would only get worse.

And as if to confirm his thoughts, his mind conjured up the image of three young men—one with white hair, sneering at him; another with dark hair, extending a handshake; and the last, with fiery red hair, grinning at him with unsettling intensity.

Fuck.