Chan wears sunglasses even though it’s evening. He’s wearing a denim jacket lined with wool, with several thick, engraved rings on his fingers. He smells like the usual Calvin Klein cologne that Felix has seen the bottle of at least a hundred times, yet he can never remember its name. And of course, he looks good. Felix falls under his charm like every single time, though today feels different. Not that he lets it show.

He gets into the car and fastens his seatbelt, his cold hands reaching out toward the vents where warm air is starting to flow.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” Felix says, breaking the ice with that one sentence.

Chan clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth and then snorts in amusement. His foot presses down on the accelerator, and the car hums lightly as they head toward the center of Sydney.

Chan comes from a wealthy family. His parents invented some kind of software that made servers much more secure—or something like that—and founded a company that quickly became multimillion-dollar. When you get that rich, that fast, you’re thrown into a whole new world. Chan’s parents, however, had adapted quickly to the change, raising Chan first as a regular child, then as a regular teenager. Sure, they’d never lived a single modest day in their lives, but that’s a negligible detail. After all, what family doesn’t host charity galas to raise funds for some newly discovered rare disease?

Not Felix’s family, obviously.

“This’ll be fun,” Chan says suddenly, interrupting Felix’s thoughts. The city is growing darker, and as the darkness falls completely, Chan takes off his sunglasses and tosses them onto the dashboard.

Felix glances at him, his lips pressed together for several moments. “For you, maybe. You’ll get a real laugh out of this,” he says, his tone carrying a slight whine.

Chan chuckles softly at those words, shaking his head. “You kidding? I’d never laugh at you.”

Sure, right. Felix wants to point out that Chan is already laughing now. He sighs and looks out at the road. The closer they get to Sydney’s center, the heavier the traffic becomes. This car ride will probably take longer than expected—but that’s normal. It’s rush hour.

“You’re lying. We both know you will.”

Chan drums his fingers on the steering wheel. The car slows to a stop; in front of them, a line of cars waits for the light to turn green so they can move forward. Meanwhile, a couple of street performers juggle pins, spinning them skillfully above their heads.

“Maybe just a little,” Chan admits, “What’s wrong with that? It’s a punishment, after all. If it didn’t make me laugh, I wouldn’t have suggested it.”

Right. Felix tends to forget that the whole reason he’s here tonight at this charity gala is because of that stupid punishment he owes. There’s no other reason. Chan didn’t want him here—not really, anyway. He’d probably have brought some girl if it weren’t for this excuse—in fact, he definitely would have. It was already a miracle that he’d dropped that idea in favor of carrying out this joke.

“That’s cruel,” Felix points out, though he knows Chan will only partially grasp the weight of his words. The deeper meaning, however, will be inaccessible to him.

And in fact, Chan doesn’t catch the significance of his comment at all.

“Nah, and you’ll see—you’ll end up having fun. We’ll eat well and talk crap about all my relatives,” Chan says, grinning before his expression darkens, annoyed. “Especially my cousins, those damn pompous jerks.”

Felix lets out an amused sigh at that. Chan has been an adult for over a decade now, and he’s still hung up on his stupid rivalry with his cousins.

“Trevor’s not bad.”

“Trevor’s a jerk,” Chan replies immediately.

“You’re too hard on him.”

Chan rolls his eyes and honks the horn when the car in front doesn’t move quickly enough. He’s not a patient driver, but in fairness, the 6 p.m. traffic would test anyone’s patience. “I really don’t understand how you can like him. Seriously. He’s unbearable.”

Felix bites his lower lip. His mind wanders but always returns to the same point. He knows he won’t be able to shake the thought until he says it out loud. He knows himself too well. So, he decides to rip off the band-aid and get it over with, hoping it will let him spend the rest of the evening a little more… calm. As calm as possible in a situation like this.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” The words spill out quickly, almost uncontrollably.

“About Trevor? Seriously?” Chan raises an eyebrow.

“No, obviously not about Trevor.”

“Okay, then. Go ahead.”

Felix’s hands rest against his thighs, curling and flexing. He tries to channel the tension into energy, and that energy into words. *The sooner I say it, the better I’ll feel,* he tells himself.

“Why am I here? I mean, okay, the punishment, but we could’ve skipped it. You could’ve brought Dana.”

The silence that follows feels suffocating to Felix, like a flame trapped under a glass, consuming all the oxygen until there’s none left. And yet, that’s exactly how it feels. Even though Chan seems perfectly relaxed, Felix feels like he’s running along the edge of a cliff. Reckless, daring, simply unaware of the danger.

Chan laughs—a light, genuine sound. Felix feels so foolish, so stupid. It’s like he’s understood nothing about Chan, nothing about himself, nothing about the world. Maybe he’ll never understand anything. But in the end, understanding is an overrated concept anyway.

“And miss the chance to see you in a dress? No way. And besides, I’d never bring Dana to meet my family.”

“…” Felix needs a moment to process.

*And miss the chance to see you in a dress?* 

Oh, Jisung would’ve lost his mind over a line like that. And even Felix feels a little overwhelmed.

Still, focusing on that comment openly might raise suspicions, so he forces himself to isolate that thought in a mental bubble, promising to revisit it later, when he’s alone. For now, he attempts to keep the conversation moving in a reasonably acceptable direction.

“Why not?”

Chan frowns, looking at Felix like he’s just failed a basic math problem. “Because Dana’s just a friend.”

“She didn’t seem to think so.”

“You know how girls are. You sleep with them a couple of times, and they already think you’re dating.”

*Typical Chan,* Felix thinks. Chan is so many things—kind, generous, altruistic, understanding. But he knows absolutely nothing about love, feelings, or empathy.

“That’s not unreasonable. Actually, it’s pretty logical they’d think that,” Felix tries to point out, with the same level of optimism he’d have trying to poke a hole in water.

And, sure enough…

“No, it’s not. Not if it hasn’t been discussed clearly beforehand,” Chan grumbles. He takes a turn, finally steering them onto less crowded streets. Felix begins to recognize some of the tall towers near Chan’s neighborhood.

Felix blinks slowly. He rests his temple against the window, his blonde hair sticking slightly to the glass, which is damp from their warm breath contrasting with the cold air outside. “I think you’re just making excuses to dodge responsibility.”

“Maybe. Either way, I had no interest in bringing Dana, that’s all there is to it.”

Felix wants to smirk. He would, if Chan weren’t sitting right next to him and this conversation weren’t happening live instead of over text. But here, now, he can’t afford to move a single inch out of line.

“I’m even more out of place than she would’ve been.”

“Nonsense. You’re my best friend.”

Ouch.

“Yeah, and I’ll be cross-dressing. What will your family think if they notice?”

“They’ll think I have interesting taste,” Chan jokes. Felix seriously considers punching him, but even he knows he’d lose that fight.

Still, that comment opens up another perspective. Felix tries to tread carefully as he speaks. He doesn’t want to alarm Chan or put him on the defensive. He just wants to understand. Why, he doesn’t know, but he has to, because it might help him bring some order to the chaos inside him.

“And you’d be okay with them thinking that…?”

Chan’s thumb brushes the leather of the steering wheel. There’s something hypnotic about the way his fingertip glides over the rough surface.

“God, yes,” he admits, with a sigh that scratches at his throat a little. “At least they’d stop asking when I’m going to get married.”

Chan would be fine with his family thinking he’s gay. 

His parents want him to get married soon.

Those two pieces of information hit Felix so hard, and in such different ways, that he doesn’t know how to feel. In the end, the image of Chan getting married—and Felix being forced to stand as his best man—wins out, and nausea twists his stomach so tightly that he genuinely hopes Chan will hurry and close the last few meters to his house before he vomits.

He takes a small breath, trying to calm himself, and responds the way a friend who *isn’t* panicking at the idea of his best friend’s marriage would respond. Because that thought should bring him joy.

No. He needs to make Chan see reason. 

At least about the whole idea of making his family think he’s gay. It’s a terrible idea.

“You’re an idiot. It’s not that simple. You don’t know what that would mean,” he says, hating himself for not being able to openly say the word “gay.” He’s afraid that if he does, the whole charade will collapse, and Chan will say something like, “What? Gay? Gross! No, I meant something else.” He knows that won’t happen, but Felix always feels like he’s walking through a minefield when these topics come up.

Chan takes the ramp into the garage. The car pulls into one of the empty spaces, and the engine shuts off.

He turns to Felix. Their eyes lock, and the air suddenly grows heavy again. Felix feels like all the oxygen in the car has vanished. Chan’s gaze is magnetic, as if he’s digging deep into Felix’s soul, searching with both hands. But for what? Felix has no idea.

“You talk like you know what it means to be gay,” Chan says.

Felix feels the blood freeze in his veins. He’s never felt so cold in his life. Then, Chan continues.

“But you don’t. So stop filling your mouth with those paranoid thoughts.”

Felix’s lips part. He blinks slowly, confused.

“We’re here. Get out. Let’s go home.”

What just happened?

And why does Chan seem… annoyed?