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once more, with feeling

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Luo Binghe wakes up on a Monday, face smushed ungracefully against a pillow, to blinding pain originating from the general area of his decision-making paradigm. The pain is so effusive, in fact, that Luo Binghe thinks someone must have fed the upper half of his body through a grinder.

In the distant direction of a functioning world, there is a buzz. Groaning, in part due to the pain and in part just because he felt the urge, Luo Binghe flops out his hand and reels in a phone. His phone, to be more precise.

Thumbing over the home screen and feeling a disproportionate amount of relief that his brightness settings were dimmed all the way down, Luo Binghe is greeted with a rolling feed of congratulations on his wedding. Huh, look. His dad’s here too. Uninterested in statements of the obvious, Luo Binghe drops the device and painstakingly turns his head. Each degree of rotation sends waves of nausea barreling through his defenses, but at the end of the day (well, morning, most likely), he comes face to face with an innocuous bottle of Morning Recovery. God bless the love of his life.

He downs the hangover cure like an elixir. (It is.)

When he sets the emptied bottle back on the nightstand, a sight makes him freeze. The drink hadn’t sunk in yet, so Luo Binghe stares blindly and uncomprehendingly at the metal contraption on his finger.

It’s a gaudy, thick band of gold, studded along its rim with more diamonds than a man should ever see in his possession. The diamonds, ranging in diameters a millimeter thick or two, were organized in completely unnecessary designs of round-petaled flowers. Larger, flatter diamond disks form a larger base right at the top of the band, topped off with a fat, round ruby.

To his horror, Luo Binghe realizes the thing is on his left hand. On his ring finger, even.

And his wedding ring is nowhere to be found.

That’s when Luo Binghe also realizes, in the dimness of drawn shades and modest grey furnishings, that he has no idea where he is.

Lurching back onto the bed, Luo Binghe frantically thumbs open his phone. His messages, now that he’s reading them from the start, paint a terrifying picture.

Mo Bei Jun
Jan 08, 2019

>(23:37) [invite.jpg]

It’s a postcard that had white drapes as borders, and amidst the flush of two-dimensional renditions of fabric a golden script reads: “You are cordially invited ...to the wedding of Mr. and Mr. Luo Binghe.” It has a lot of unnecessary flourishes, and looks at best like terribly uninspired clip-art.

Mo Bei Jun, as always, was prompt.

(23:38) You're already married.

(23:38) Is polyamory legal in Vegas?

>(23:39) finnished signing the divorce papers will u come

>(23:39) gonna marry the love of my life want u therss

(23:40) I thought Shen Yuan was the love of your life.

(23:40) Wait, you signed divorce papers?

(23:40) Don't do anything you'll regret.

(23:41) Luo Binghe.

Jan 09, 2019

(00:18) How much did you spend on all this?

(04:07) I'm heading back with the only sober person in this party. If something happens, text me.

(04:07) Congratulations on your wedding.

 

Luo Binghe placed his phone face down in breathless terror, before quickly lifting it up to see if the dreaded word had changed. It didn’t. Innocuous as it pleased, the d-word smiled back at him.

No.

No.

No no no no no.

He couldn’t have done it. Not to his husband, to the love this life and the life before and the lives after. He couldn’t have.

 

Changeling
Jan 08, 2019

>(23:37) [invite.jpg]

(23:39) Oh look, my brother in law just sent me a wedding invitation

(23:39) To his wedding

(23:39) Incredible

(23:40) Where's your husband? I thought he was keeping a leash on you.

>(23:43) No mroe husband, git divorced

(23:50) Hey!! It's Qingyuan!! I borrowed Jiu's phone real quick :)) Anyway, we'd love to come to ur wedding!! Do u need help with setup? Where will u be before the wedding? Actually, where r u rn?

>(23:52) Could use some help thx

>(23:53) [maps.jpg]

(23:53) Perfect!! We're coming. U have time for a quick chat, right?

(23:53) :)

(23:54) You're fucking dead, Luo Binghe

(23:54) Where the fuck is my brother?

 

Somehow the lack of conversation after that is more hair-raising than a more characteristic outpouring of curses. Fuck how bad did he mess up.

 

The actual devil (never call him)
Jan 09, 2019

(03:27) Luo Binghe, my bank called saying that someone withdrew several hundreds of thousands of dollars from my account

(03:28) What did you do, buy a drug cartel? You know how easy it is to get caught with something like that?

(03:28) Mo Bei Jun told me you were having a wedding. Did you seriously pay for someone's wedding with my money?

(03:29) Mo Bei Jun said it was your wedding. And that you sent everybody an e-invite. Why wasn't I invited? I couldn't even go to your first one because you eloped.

>(03:35) Gobfuck off

>(03:36) n mb’s a fuckinga traitor

(03:38) As your father I did not raise you to act this way

>(03:39) Didnt raise me at all. Fuck you

(03:40) The family psychiatrist warned me that you still had parental abandonment issues. Binghe, I'm truly sorry for my unintentional neglect, Binghe. Should I set up another appointment w/ Ms. Yingying?

(03:48) Congratulations on your wedding, kid.

 

・*:.。.:*・'(*゚▽゚*)'・*:.。. ・
Jan 09, 2019

(05:14) Hello, this is Qingyuan! I added myself to ur phone just so I can reach u more directly in the future :D

(05:15) Just wanted to congratulate u again on ur wedding! °˖✧\(⁰▿◜

(05:15) Jiu won't admit it but he sort of approves! :3c Keep it up!!

 

Luo Binghe closed his messaging app, and hesitated over the next chat. The bright red notice of over three hundred mentions nearly sent him fleeing. Fuck. Fuck. There was only one group chat that had the manpower for this, and it was not one he wanted to confront after single handedly destroying his entire future prospect of happiness.

 

HaremxGirls (61 members)
2000+ unread messages
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Jan 09, 2019
8:37 AM

lightning in the sheets: Can’t believe I missed it for the second time. @bingbing do you have any respect for the womxn in your life. Why would you send the invite only an hr before

rong.move: Hey at least you’re in the same state. Wanyue & i are all the way back in maine

yuer.move: wuwu we were teased with a wedding we couldn’t attend @bingbing

Fu Siyan: I’m still in Canada :(

lightning in the sheets: ping him a few times, siyan. Make him regret.

Fu Siyan: @bingbing @bingbing @bingbing @bingbing @bingbing @bingbing

pretty princess: ;( if i were awake i coulda asked daddy for a helicopter @bingbing 

rong.move: you say that like you didn’t miss the wedding like the rest of us

pretty princess: not my fault it smells like broke in here

murderess: lol like the rest of u u mean

murderess: told you all you should come :P

lightning in the sheets: did our boy make a fool of himself?

murderess: fuck yeah he did. Got snot all over his face halfway thru

yuer.move: pics pics pics pics @murderess @bingbing

murderess: don’t have any, go ask @we’d all tap that

ying.ying: mingyan might be a while, I spotted her trying to calm down her brother

yuer.move: wow look who’s finally awake

ying.ying: he’s freaking out bc he got a tattoo

ying.ying: @yuer.move hehe

activated almonds: as always, this chat brightens my day. Can’t wait for the others overseas to wake up xD

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Luo Binghe’s heart can’t take it anymore. He closes the chat, and tries not to scream into his pillow.

o-o-o-o-o-o

In Luo Binghe’s defense: he hadn’t thought it weird that people were congratulating him on a year old wedding. He congratulates himself on snagging Shen Yuan every day, because waking up knowing that he’s married to the man he shares a bed with is enough to make him disassociate, hard.

How did he ever get that lucky? What has he done to deserve a wonderful man like Shen Yuan loving him back? He can only hope he never stops dreaming.

And now, for the first time in a year, Luo Binghe wakes up in a bed alone. He’s hungover to hell, heaven, and back to hell, because the wedding ring on his finger is not his, yet the more he investigates the more he fears it is his.

Pressing his palm deep into his eyes until his vision crackles with color, Luo Binghe fights back the tears and the sourness in his throat. How could he have done that? How could he have hurt his most beloved person in such a way, severed himself from the source of all happiness?

Why was he such an idiot? How could he have done that ?

It was hard to tell if the bubbling in his chest was self-loathing or acid reflux.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Luo Binghe groans as he exits a shiny, gold lacquered lobby and is immediately assaulted by a much brighter sun. His head pounds as he lifted his arm in a vain attempt to shield himself. Why is the world so fucking cheery, right when his life is on the verge of crumbling? The honking of a car jars him so spectacularly he nearly falls. He picks up a quiet snort somewhere to his left, and his general circumstances are bad enough that he’s ready to verbally eviscerate whoever was taking delight in his suffering.

He turns his head to snap something venomous, when the person in question catches his breath. Was that…? Then the world properly comes into focus, and the dearly beloved, familiar features arrange themselves in a face that Shen Yuan would never make.

His brother-in-law arches a brow at him, lounging on the bench in the outdoor seating of an adjacent restaurant. Yue Qingyuan is beaming and waving him over.

Binghe grudgingly makes his way over, pulling back a metal chair and immediately wincing when it screeched against the ground. Shen Jiu did not deign to lower his eyebrow.

When the waiter came by with a customary glass of water, Binghe downs it and drops his head on the table, resuming his attempts to murder his brain and all external stimuli. Neither Shen Jiu nor Yue Qingyuan say anything, though the latter does make a quiet noise of sympathy.

“You don’t have anything at all to say to me about what happened last night?” Luo Binghe says, finally. I DIVORCED YOUR BROTHER , something in his head is screaming, a thought that had been present ever since he first exited his hotel room. It didn’t feel any more real, but it wouldn’t let itself be rendered false, either. I DIVORCED SHEN YUAN .

“I have a lot to say,” Shen Jiu denies. “But I’m too exhausted to bother. You made so many fucking mistakes with your shitty execution and shittier decor it’s easier to just give you a pass.”

What the fuck. No rubbing it in? No threats of pain and suffering for the rest of Binghe’s (limited) days? That was almost ... nice . “You….” Luo Binghe finally scents the cloying tease of wine in the air, and holds it against the bland look in Shen Jiu’s eyes that might possibly be sympathy. The conclusion he draws isn’t entirely unfounded. “Are you hungover ?” Normally, post-intoxication left one in a worse mood than before (exhibit A: Binghe himself), but Shen Jiu was less a man and more a carefully packaged humanoid of spite, and would honestly act nicer just to be contrary.

“Hungover?” Shen Jiu sneered. “Who’s hungover? Your mother is fucking hungover. Only idiots who don’t know to fucking hydrate get hungover.” As if to prove his point, the waiter came by, setting down a glass of amber liquid in companion to the empty glasses that Binghe hadn’t noticed before. Shen Jiu nodded, and waved her off. If Luo Binghe weren’t Luo Binghe, and the person day drinking weren’t Shen Jiu, Luo Binghe might admit to being the slightest bit impressed.

But because circumstances called for it, he instead bitterly hopes the man drinks himself into an early grave.

Yue Qi chuckled, prompting Luo Binghe to notice the mug he held in his free hand. “The hell, you’re drinking too?”

Yue Qi shook his head, and inclined his cup to Luo Binghe could glimpse the crystal clear contents. “Just water,” Yue Qi confided, smiling secretively. “Since I’m an idiot who doesn’t know how to hydrate.”

And yet he doesn’t look the slightest bit incapacitated. Go figure.

“Amen,” Shen Jiu agreed wholeheartedly, setting down the glass of alcohol to lean his head against Yue Qi’s collarbone. The man lifted up his mug to Shen Jiu’s lips so that he could get a sip.

The image of those two cuddling (for a given value of cuddling) usually inspires in Binghe something in between a gag reflex and second hand embarrassment. Today, it’s nothing less than a passionate gutting of his heart. Yesterday, or today, technically, he had single handedly ruined any chance of him being able to cuddle his own significant other, any chance of being able to wake up with Shen Yuan’s hair inching its way into his mouth, of being able to see his concern when Binghe did something dumb (he needs that right now , when this is hands down the dumbest thing he’s ever done), if the Heavens wanted to punish for the sheer devastation he brought upon himself then it was kinder to just kill him straight out.

He can’t stand this. He can’t exist anymore next to this reminder of what he has lost. Throat tight, Luo Binghe stands up abruptly, letting the chair squeal some more because his brain is about turned to mush anyway, and all but runs away.

o-o-o-o-o-o

Yue Qingyuan blinks as Luo Binghe stormed away, tilting his head despite the mild discomfort it brings him. “How strange. Your brother-in-law seems very distraught.”

Shen Jiu has his eyes narrowed, in that way he does when he’s given a puzzle he just has to figure out. Something glints in the distance, and Shen Jiu’s eyes catch what he’d declared to be the gaudiest piece of jewelry just yesterday. Some pieces get discarded, while others seem to fit near seamlessly.

Oh? Shen Jiu rests his cheek on his palm, and begins laughing. This is rich .

Qingyuan nudges his boyfriend. “Xiao Jiu,” he chides, waiting for Shen Jiu’s shoulders to stop trembling. “Don’t make fun of your brother-in-law. That’s not nice.”

Shen Jiu starts laughing all over again.

“You promised to get along.” Yue Qingyuan reminds him, sternly.

“Oh, I remember.” Shen Jiu grins, sharp. “But I bet you anything he doesn’t.”

Yue Qingyuan purses his lips, nonplussed but still disapproving. Shen Jiu has half a mind to kiss him now, tipsy enough to not give a shit about the people around them, but something about Yue Qingyuan’s posture has him turning away in a huff instead.

“Fine, whatever. Where’s my phone?”

o-o-o-o-o-o

He doesn’t know how long he walks (in fact, he’s pretty certain he’s blacked out at some points), but eventually he comes across someone else he recognizes, in a situation he also recognizes:

Liu Qingge, standing outside a tattoo parlour, screaming at somebody inside. A fight is brewing. Almost in anticipation, Binghe walks faster.

“---find you with this mark branded on my skin?!”

“Hey!” Several voices shout in offense, before a low murmur quiets them.

A big, burly and heavily tattooed man ducks and walks out of the parlour, crossing his arms to look down at Liu Qingge. “D’ya mind?”

I do mind! ,” Liu Qingge snarls. He had shucked up his sleeves with excessive force and is brandishing something on his arm too far for Binghe to see. “Get rid of this-this obscenity! I want this thing off my skin !”

“Dawnie said you came here last night asking us to ink you.”

“Like I would!”

“Well, ya did. We don’t ink people without their permission here.”

Throughout this conversation, Luo Binghe inches closer until he can almost make out the sprawl of ink on Liu Qingge’s forearm. If he squints, it almost looked like ... Luo Binghe glanced up at the shop’s logo, a gigantic pair of breasts with the words SEXY TATS where the nipples would have been.

No wonder Liu Qingge was about to throw an apoplectic fit. Having found someone whose night was almost as bad as his, Binghe feels almost sympathetic.

“THERE’S NO WAY I CHOSE THIS!”

The large parlour owner looks like he’s nearing the end of his rope too. “I ain’t tellin ya twice! You musta--” a soft voice says something incomprehensible, and the owner looks back at one of his employees. Gruffly, he turns back to face Liu Qingge, barely acknowledging that Luo Binghe had already inserted himself into the scene. Liu Qingge had given him a terse nod, but not much else. “Dawnie said your sister was the one to choose it.”

“My sister?” Liu Qingge parrots, before grinding his teeth. “You dare. Besmirch. The name. Of my sister ?!” 

Luo Binghe suddenly has the vision of Liu Mingyan doing the same clenched jaw yesterday, as her brother chased away a third female suitor with sharp words. That wasn’t counting the number of male hopefuls who’d approached.

“He never lets me have any fun!” Mingyan was complaining, the flush of wine turn her words simpler and more direct. “Every single time, he does this!”

Binghe remembers shrugging, too distracted by other things to put much thought into his words. “Just get him to loosen up then. It can’t be that hard, it’s Vegas.”

Watching Liu Qingge draw his family’s sword (since when was he carrying that around), angrily defending the innocence of his little sister, Liu Binghe decides not to mention the unsettling and sadistic gleam in Mingyan’s eyes after he’d made his suggestion.

The result brawl is a temporary but welcome distraction from the pathetic, lovelorn spectre crying about Shen Yuan in his mind. Temporary, because he at his core is that pathetic and lovelorn man.

For the next few minutes though, he was on his way to getting arrested.

o-o-o-o-o-o

An hour later, he walks out of the police department to see an unimpressed Mo Bei Jun.

“Hey there,” he says, with a cheer he doesn’t feel. “How’d you know to get me?”

Mo Bei Jun sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Your dad got a notification when you got entered into the records. He sent me to bail you out.”

The sound of a heavy metal door opening draws his attention, and Luo Binghe is surprised to see a scowling Liu Qingge also walk towards the exit, evidently also a freed man. “You got Liu Qingge too? I didn’t know you two knew each other that well.”

“We don’t.” Mo Bei Jun says. “That would be someone else’s work.”

“Hello,” pipes up a short man standing half behind Mo Bei Jun. He was slightly hunched, and so unassuming Binghe somehow glossed right over him. “My name is Shan Qinghua, it’s nice to meet you.”

Luo Binghe blinks at him. He looks vaguely familiar, but not in any time or place Binghe can identify. “...who are you?”

“Thanks for your help, Qinghua,” says Liu Qingge as he clears the exit. “I was just about to call Mingyan when you arrived.” The other man squeaks something like a ‘you're welcome.’

Binghe’s brows are furrowed. “Wait, you’re his friend?”

“Yeah,” both Shan Qinghua and Liu Qingge answer, before looking at each other in surprise. Shan Qinghua turns a bit red, while Liu Qingge shrugs, unaffected.

“I wasn’t talking to either of you,” Binghe snaps. He turns to Mo Bei Jun. “You’re his friend? He’s the one you went home with yesterday?”

The shorter man coughs into his sleeve. “Friend is not the term I would use.”

“We’re rather more than friends,” Mo Bei Jun said dryly.

Binghe splutters, stopping dead in his tracks. “You hooked up with somebody? You ?”

Even as Shan Qinghua turns red, Mo Bei Jun shakes his head. “Not quite. I was taking him out for coffee when your...situation came in.”

“No.” Binghe says. “Nope. No. What is this? You’re my friend, you can’t hook up with one of A Yuan’s friends. That’s not a thing you do!”

Mo Bei Jun’s eyes narrow dangerously. He ignores his companion, who was making moves to calm him down. “And why not?”

Usually, Binghe would back off when he hears that tone, but he’s too wrong-footed to even think to do so right now. “Because it’s like we’re closing a circle!” he says, loudly, locking eyes with his supposed best friend. “This is like...this is like inbreeding! Spiritual inbreeding. You can’t find love in the friend group of my love!”

“I’m done here,” Liu Qingge announces, breezing past him. “I promised I’d bring Mingyan back some pastries from Bouchon, but got sidetracked. I’ll see you all around.” No one pays him any heed.

Binghe is the first to look away.

Mo Bei Jun sighs. “We’ll discuss this when you’re not still recovering from all the drinks you had yesterday. I still owe Shan Qinghua a date, so if you’ll excuse me.” He begins to walk away, and after some hesitation his new friend decides to follow after.

Luo Binghe stands there, solidly alone on a sunny street in Las- fucking -Vegas, when a sudden call of his name makes him lift his head.

“Um!” Shan Qinghua has his hand up in what could be construed as a wave. “Congrats on your wedding!” he calls.

Luo Binghe turns around and starts running.

o-o-o-o-o-o

He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting on a shitty, wet boardwalk on a fake beach in the middle of a desert. The sun is starting to inch its way down, but still dragging its feet enough that the vestiges of the headache from this morning made itself known.

The excessive gold and diamond ring is at his feet. Binghe had half a mind to bury it, or even toss it into the artificial sea. Something stops him though, and the best way he could describe it was the sense of responsibility he had towards his new spouse, whoever they were. Something boiling and jagged forms in his guts when he thought about this mysterious person.

It could have been hate, that they’d somehow attracted him enough to make him turn his back on the one person who was his entire world. But if it was hate, it was directed more inward than outward. Suddenly, sitting there on wet wood in the blast of the dying sun, Binghe feels like this a good way to go. If he stays here long enough, he might eventually shrivel like some makeshift mummy. Maybe his body will be preserved enough that people can marvel at it, like some strange, morbid tourist attraction.

He can just picture it. Tour guides adding a new stop on their Nevada itinerary, gesturing at his body with a flourish. “And this here,” they might say, “is what a man looks like when he stupidly gives up everything he’s ever wanted or needed for no good reason.”

“There you are,” a voice says behind him, gentle and exasperated and so, so cherished. Binghe doesn’t move when that same voice comes closer. “Binghe, I was looking everywhere for you.” A gentle hand, the kind of hand that interlocks perfectly with Binghe’s own, places itself on Binghe’s back. “Binghe, where is your mind going? You look so morbid.”

Binghe buries his head deeper in his arm.

“Talk to me? Please?”

“Why would you want me to?” Binghe manages, somehow. “I divorced you.”

A Yuan sounds confused. “Okay?”

Binghe swallows. “You’re just … fine with that?”

If anything, A Yuan sounds even more befuddled. “Well I definitely wasn’t expecting it, but I don’t really have any complaints.”

Oh. Somehow, this was worse than any other reaction A Yuan could have given. Luo Binghe could have braced himself for despair, confusion, or betrayal on A Yuan’s face. It never occurred to him that there would be simple indifference. That there could be.

A Yuan had already moved on.

The hurt in his chest burst out in a soft, keening cry, like a small, wounded animal in a big, big forest. It hurt. It hurt so much. He thinks he can hear A Yuan make a panicked sound, but it’s all beyond him now. Existence is beyond him.

“...I’m sorry,” Binghe whispers, small and defeated.

Hands try to pry at his arms. “Binghe, why are you crying?!”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, breath hitching. “I love you. A lot. I’m sorry I ruined it.”

“Binghe? Look at me. Binghe, please look at me.”

“I….” Breathing was getting difficult now. “I...I can leave ...if you want.” He would. He would, if A Yuan wanted it.

“What? Oh, for…Binghe!” The sudden snap of his name makes him go rigid. A Yuan sighs, an impossibly fond sound. “I thought my brother was being silly, but it seems like you’re even sillier, huh? Binghe, look at my hand for a second?”

Reluctantly, Luo Binghe raises his head. A familiar left hand was in front of him, and Binghe’s breath hitches at the ring that adorned the ring finger. For a second, he’s hysterical enough to think that A Yuan had also gotten remarried last night, before something stalls him.

The ring looked identical to the one he woke up wearing this morning. Distantly, over the ringing of his ears, Binghe is incredibly grateful that drunk him was dumb enough to get the tackiest, most inelegant ring in existence. It makes it inconceivable that there could be more than two of it, makes it possible for Binghe to start breathing again.

“Did...did I…?”

“Propose to me again?” A Yuan’s smile is the brightest, most beautiful thing Binghe had seen all day. “You bet.”

Luo Binghe whoops, so fiercely happy after this long day of downhills that he can hardly believe it, and pulls his twice-husband in for a long kiss.

o-o-o-o-o-o

HaremxGirls (61 members)
1250+ unread messages
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Jan 09, 2019
11:43 PM

we’d all tap that: oof sorry guys. I had a long night and so slept in today.

murderess: is your brother still yelling about his new tat? 

we’d all tap that: (๑ᵕ⌓ᵕ̤)

we’d all tap that: [pic162351.jpg]

we’d all tap that: he’s going back to the store to get it removed

yuer.move: LOL

yuer.move: f

murderess: f

rong.move: f

activated almonds: f

spymistress: f

dere dere no tsun: F

pretty princess: f

dere dere no tsun:  Who keeps changing my name? Please stop :(

milady malady: f

hips don’t lie: mmm SECKSIE

ying.ying: f

yuer.move: wait hold on let’s not get distracted here

yuer.move: where’s bingbing’s wedding pics @we’d all tap that

yuer.move: where where where

we’d all tap that: /ᐠ。ꞈ。ᐟ\✧

we’d all tap that: [pic162343.jpg]

we’d all tap that: [pic162344.jpg]

we’d all tap that: [pic162345.jpg]

we’d all tap that: [pic162347.jpg]

we’d all tap that: [pic162348.jpg]

rong.move: ….

pretty princess:  awwww

murderess: fucking cute ain’t it? I was about to get cavities

ying.ying: bingbing looks so happy, doesn’t he :DDDD

lightning in the sheets: be honest @ying.ying you cried didn’t you?

ying.ying: :’DDDDD

( jump to recent )

 

Liu Mingyan groans when her phone buzzes yet again, notifying her that another member of their frankly enormous chat has liked one of her photos. How was she supposed to play any games when the alerts kept coming?

Clicking on the latest notification, Mingyan can’t fight the smile when she sees the most liked picture pop up. It’s a little blurry around the edges and in the background, where faces and balloons seem to have more or less the same detail, but there’s no evading the sheer exuberance that the background emits. People toasting, people laughing, Sha Hualing brandishing a table cloth like a muleta at a tall, gangly man. The venue was gorgeous, Mingyan would easily admit, with it’s shiny, gold and white color scheme.

The main focus of the picture, however, was on the two men right at the forefront. Both were in wedding gowns, though one was more elegant and sleek while the other was a puffy but admittedly attractive monstrosity. Luo Binghe had one arm wrapped around Shen Yuan’s back, and another hooked under his silky white dress and legs. Their faces were close enough to kiss if they wanted to, but Mingyan rather thought that their wide smiles and the way their eyes only seemed to see each other said a lot more than lips ever could.

Mingyan closes the app again and boots up Clash of Clans. She throws her head back and groans when another flurry of buzzes make their way through and tosses her phone onto her bed.

It didn’t look like she was going to get anything done today.