Tryst | NCT

Zhong Chenle: Make A Wish

Your eyes fell upon the mini calendar lying flat at the corner of your table, adding to the dishevelment of your room. And also on the date highlighted by thick circles of red, even the paper beneath the ink was beginning to peel off as a result of perpetual scribbling. You'd think it was an important day. And it was, yeah.

22 November.

All 10 characters of that written date screamed a sense of significance in your heart, mind. And it wasn't an understatement in the least.

The date marked the birth of the person closest to you. The person who understood you when you couldn't understand yourself. The person who gifted you something called 'belonging' in your grimmest of times. The person who held by you after your 'best' friends 'forever' deserted you in a relationship fueled by deceit and self-interest. The person who never let go of you when you let go of him. The sole person who accepted you, wanted you, needed you.

And suffering through all those years gone by, at the bottom of your heart, you'd grown attached to him very subconsciously. He had long since become the oxygen to your life and you had yet to notice.

You got up and stretched your back, sore from the constant sitting. You looked at the clock as it flashed in big and readable numbers: 5:31. It didn't take a genius to figure out you were plain late. Not to mention, very late. The said destination you were supposed to be at in approximately twenty-nine minutes was none other than your best friend—yes, best friend—'s birthday party.

And the reason? 'Sorry, dude. Just got emotional remembering how we've stuck together through everything these past few years for a minute and a minute turned to half an hour somehow.' Though most of it was about him being equivalent to oxygen to you, as if you'd tell him that.

You were the most pathetic tsundere you'd ever known or would ever know, guaranteed. You wouldn't confess your feelings for him even if there was a gun pointed at your head, not before he did. The secret was going with you to your grave, safe and pretty.

You slapped your cheeks, vowing not to spend any more time on worthless contemplations in context with your loveless love life.

Within another fifteen minutes, you were all ready to go. You applied a thin layer of lip tint, just so your lips wouldn't look chapped. Make-up just wasn't your thing, occasional putting on of lip-tint was enough. Or maybe it was that you didn't require make-up; you were already perfect the way you were, naturally and inherently. And if you were to put on make-up, god forbid the wonders your appearance would do.

Without investing any more time, you put on your shoes and called a cab. Shortly within a sum of ten minutes, you arrived at the place where the party was going to be hosted.

He had invited all your friends. His friends were your friends and your friends were his, since you both were always found together wherever you went. So, thankfully, there would be no awkward meetings and encounters. Though even if there were, Chenle would take care of that. Of course he would.

He didn't like the thought or suggested notion of anyone getting close to you. The zone of light friendship was bearable, but any more than that tugged on his nerves. Obviously, he wouldn't peacefully hand over the position in your heart and comfort zone he had worked so hard and fought for to achieve to just anyone. Hell, he'd die but do that.

You followed inside the club, a sense of adulthood rushing into you. Your group of friends was barely over the required age of eighteen.

Upon spotting you, your friends called out to you from where they were sitting and you swiftly headed there. Of the people already gathered: six of the boys and three of the girls who were your close friends, you were the second latest to arrive. Of course.