STEP

CHAPTER 0

The slightly tousled boy sits on the ground, ungroomed and leaning his head against the wall; giving in to the temptations of laughter. Not far above from his head sits a small and narrow telescope which on the other side depicts sceneries a photographer would otherwise not let loose: towering walls, the beautiful skies and the clouds. Yet, the lens do not seem to be focusing onto those. Instead, it focuses on dirt, weeds and a dense array of nails.

Beside the stone walls, as birds in the sky show their respect with the occasional chirp, stands a boy with his unwavering efforts, switching and constantly experimenting between the different footholds and intervals between the nails. The sun shines on the teen's forehead along the breeze gently sweeping across his face as he indulgently reflects on the beauty of nature and life. A drop of sweat slides its way down his forehead and he grips the nail in his hand. He steps back, and looks at the porous rock wall with exhaustion. The young man seated on the floor retracts his head against the wall with laughter, a hint of hoarseness tingling in his voice, who knew?

Time unknowingly passes by, and yet no one bothers anyway. The weariness kicks in and he brings his laughter to a halt, his surroundings dwindling into peace and tranquility.

"Idiot," he shuts his eyes, "Why are you still hammering these nails."
Smiling gently, a drop of unknown liquid slides pass his face; and the key in his hand also follows the drop of liquid and falls gently to the ground.

[17.03.2013]

When you happen to encounter a beautiful weather on a resting day in March, you might expect God to arrange special novelties such as a wonderful adventure or even an encounter with a former lover. Every story requires a subplot; your fantasies about a place for reunion with your former lover will never be during a stock exchange; as will fairytales will never appear on board the ship of an old man at sea. Luhan whistles as he opens the mailbox, taking the opportunity to glance at the vibrance of the Sun and its air, this weather is perfect for outdoor sports, he thinks.

Embracing a stack of letters, Luhan strides upstairs into the dorm, kicking his way through the door. He lifts his head to see the back view of the two gathered in front of the computer. He flings two letters onto one of the beds.

"I've brought your letters up." He stands in the middle of the dorm, scrutinizing the expenditure records of his mobile phone this month.
"Lord Lu is becoming more pleasant and considerate."
The person standing to look at the computer doesn't turn his head, his left hand rests on the shoulders of the person sitting down, accompanied by a smile.
"Have you applied to move into our dorm?" Luhan glances at the two and continues browsing through his bills.
"Your dorm is too small." Comes a voice of disdain from the direction before.
"The living room is huge," Says the person who is seated, smiling, "Should we move in together?" At the side, Luhan shakes his head helplessly in silence, he is used to this.

Getting up, Kris plunges over onto Luhan's bed and pries open his letter. Luhan sends a kick at him, "You better get down." Kris maintains his calm composure, eyes still fixated on the letter, "Your bed contains lots of microorganisms, not to mention: I'm simply just another."
Luhan leaps up, sending kicks and punches towards Kris, Yixing too conveniently lies on Luhan's bed, a look of challenge against his tolerance written on his face.

Luhan retreats helplessly in defeat and seats himself on Kris' bed, he keeps his shoes on with vengeance while the two on the opposite side stare at him. After some time, he finally gives in to his low tolerance level and removes his shoes; the opposite end bursts into laughter.
"If your conscience gets to you later, you can help by washing the linens." Kris' sways the laundry card in his hand. Unable to bear it any longer, Luhan stomps towards the desk and starts surfing the net.