Gao Zhihan turns around, and grabs another can of beer.

The can is lifted to his lips, and He Jun looks away.

One of the first things that had struck him from the days when they were just mere acquaintances, was just how reserved and mature Zhihan seemed. He had truly lived up to his reputation of being withdrawn from everything and everyone that didn’t facilitate whatever he was being paid to do at the moment. Many called him cold, but then He Jun had gotten to know him.

Truly know him.

And it had been quite the surprise and delight to find out that the ice-cold manner with which he presented himself to the world was just a façade.

The boy before him is just twenty-three years old, and although others claim that he acts twice his age, He Jun knows that when he is around those he explicitly trusts, he willingly reduces himself to half of that age.

Gao Zhihan to him is a baby, and currently it seems as though this baby has finally snapped. 

He Jun considers walking away, but he knows that he can’t. Not especially after he hears the crushed can that He Jun has just drained bounce noisily across the counter, and then fall to the floor. 

Gao Zhihan reaches into the fridge to grab another one.

“Stop!” He Jun groans, but is ignored.

Zhihan tips his head back again to take a long drink of the third can, and doesn’t stop until he is done with it.

“What's the problem?” he asks, that devilish smirk back on his face. “You’re worried I’ll empty your fridge. Don’t worry about it. Thanks to your almighty fall my career has exploded. I can afford a lot of things now so, this is nothing. I’ll restock it for you.”

Gao Zhihan watches as he then turns to toss the crumpled can into the nearby trash bin, but a sudden rage overwhelms him, and it is slammed to the ground.

The tin bounces pitifully against the tiled floor, drowning out every other noise until what takes over is Zhihan’s ragged breathing. He is bent over the counter, hands gripping the edge and barely able to keep himself upright.

He Jun discreetly wipes the moisture from the corner of his eyes and turns on a light.

Tonight, something is going to have to give otherwise this boy is going to hurt himself.

“Why are you so angry?" He Jun asks, and yet again Zhihan doesn’t respond.

He Jun presses on. “It’s just a race. You’re fine, so why get so worked up over it?”

He remains monumentally ignored until he utters his next words. “Zhihan, there are more important things in life.”

At this, Zhihan’s head lifts, his glare on He Jun murderous.

“There are more important things in life?” he repeats.

He Jun holds his gaze.

“Like what?” Zhihan mocks dryly.  

“Leave,” He Jun says, unwilling to further tolerate this confrontation.

The pained expression on Zhihan’s face worsens. “You don’t even want to know why I came here?” 

He Jun's gut twists bitterly. “I don’t,” he replies. “Just leave.”

Zhihan’s glare turns lethal. “I won’t. Not till I’ve said exactly what I want to.”

He Jun starts to walk away, moving wordlessly from the foyer and towards the hallway that leads to his bedroom.

"He Jun,” Zhihan calls but is ignored. 

“He Jun!”

Zhihan’s sharp movement from the corner of his eye is what strikes him with alarm, but it is too late to see what he has grabbed off the counter and hurled at him.

He Jun immediately ducks, and a split second is what saves him from the ceramic candle holder that smashes into the wall beside where his head has just been. As the shards fly out in countless directions, He Jun stares in shock at the carnage. Then his gaze shoots up to the inflamed boy across the room.

"Are you out of your mind?!" he roars in disbelief.

A dark silence follows.

And then Zhihan begins to approach. 

He Jun almost starts to back away, but then he straightens and holds his ground.

Gao Zhihan walks past him, his expression frigid, but just as he arrives at the door, he stops.

An eternity seems to pass before he speaks, and this time around his voice is small.

“Do I truly mean absolutely nothing to you?”

He Jun winces at the answering ache in his chest.

“You really don’t care, do you? That I got hurt today.”

'I don’t', is what He Jun should have said, but instead, he finds himself turning, enraged, and ready to give this boy a piece of his mind. 

His foot however sinks into something sharp, and it sends him crumbling to the floor.

“Ow!” he swears. “Fuck!”

Pain rips through him, as a hand closes around his ankle. He starts to inspect the splinter lodged into his heel, and although he senses that Zhihan also turns, he doesn’t move to help him. He Jun wishes that the boy would just disappear.

“I’m hurt now too,” he snarls. “Is this enough? We’re even now so … just leave.”

He has absolutely no idea as to what Zhihan will say in response to this, and is unable to stop himself from holding his breath until the boy eventually speaks. 

“How can you send me away so easily? Over and over again?”

Silence.

“We’re friends Zhihan,” He Jun says quietly, and reluctantly. “I’m allowed to ignore you or send you away when I want to.”

“Well, I don’t want to be your friend. Not anymore.”

He Jun goes numb at his words, a dull ache turning his entire body to lead.

“Alright,” he hears himself mutter.

He will never be able to accurately ascertain how much time passes after that. All that he knows is that it feels too long and yet too short at the same time, and none of it matters because Zhihan pushes down the door’s handle to leave.

He Jun feels something eerily similar to his heart collapsing within his chest as the true implication of Zhihan’s departure begins to dawn on him. His head lowers, tears burning his eyes as the door is swung open.

“I’m hurt because of you,” he gripes. “Do you care?”

The entire world seems to go still as he waits for Zhihan's response.

“I don’t,” Zhihan replies. “Bleed to death, for all I care.”