"What if he's, like, a secret agent? He's probably on an important mission."

"I bet he's Spiderman."

Renjun sips on his mug of tea. The liquid is lukewarm by now, so does little to soothe the irritation seeping through his blood and up his throat, just mere seconds away from exploding.

"Spiderman? Seriously?" Renjun interrupts Donghyuck and Chenle. The elder of the two is clearly proud of his theory while Chenle nods along, excited by the idea and ready to put forward his own crazy thoughts about Renjun's mysterious soulmate.

"Why not? You don't really know who he is, do you?" Donghyuck points out.

Renjun swirls his tea round, regrets adding so much milk, and his skin bristles. "What do you mean?"

Donghyuck leans forward on his elbows. Renjun can feel him examine the clear exhaustion on his face; he'd tossed and turned all night, the glow of his soulmate dust too bright and Mark's absence too painful to let him settle.

"I mean that just you know his name and the basic details, like his address and number and whatnot." Donghyuck begins, and Renjun wishes he never crawled out of bed. "You don't know know him, you know? It's not like you've been best buddies for years."

It's not like you and Jaemin have been best buddies for years. The thought is quick and sharp, pinching Renjun's skull, but he drowns out the headache by biting his tongue until it turns numb, the sensation almost cold.

Renjun also wants to say that it felt like they've known each other all their lives when they were texting. He doesn't get round to it before the loneliness seeps into his chest once more and he deflates, the day's pitiful supply of energy already drained.

"So," Donghyuck continues, leaning back on his chair now like he's some sort of cunning boss terrorising a poor employee. Renjun wishes he'd shut up. "How do you know he's not spiderman? You can't rule it out."

"It's a possibility until proven wrong," Chenle adds with a firm nod. Renjun downs the last of his tea, then winces at the cold, bitter aftertaste that makes him squirm.

"Huh?" Renjun grunts from confusion.

"Isn't that how the saying goes? You have to prove something wrong or something?" Chenle looks between the other two for clarification.

"A scientific theory has to be proven wrong to be science?" Donghyuck suggests, then they both turn to Renjun.

"I take fine art, don't look at me. Ask one of the others. They do science," Renjun mutters, still holding his plain white mug just to give his hands something to do that isn't strangling his dormmates.

"Jisung!" Said boy traipses into the kitchen when Chenle hollers his name. Sleepiness pales his features, but he tries to smile, even if the hood of his black sweater is pulled up to hide the mop of unbrushed hair and puffy eyes.

"What?"

"You study spacey science stuff," Donghyuck says. Jisung's brow wrinkles with confusion. "Tell us how likely it is that Mark is Spiderman."

"There's no module on Spiderman in astrophysics," Jisung replies with an eye roll. "Can I go back to bed now?" He turns to Renjun for an answer, who nods, patience just as thin.

Renjun finally rinses out his mug, fills it with water from the tap, then sits back down. "All I asked was why he hasn't replied to any of my texts. Cut out the Spiderman nonsense. He just... he just disappeared!" When he bangs his fist on the table, Donghyuck startles and Chenle reaches out to pat his shoulder. The gesture only exasperates Renjun further, but he doesn't lash out. He just tries not to look at Donghyuck.

They haven't spoken about Jaemin since their last chat. Donghyuck is charmed by his soulmate's change in attitude, bathing in the affection he's been dying to receive in return for everything he's given the younger, and the only one who seems to notice the emptiness in Jaemin's eyes is Renjun. Part of him wants to let them live in their little fantasy where their relationship is as happy as a fairy-tale. The other part of him doesn't want to witness the fallout when it all crumbles.

"Don't stress. I'm sure he's fine," Chenle reassures. "Have you tried texting his flatmate?"

Renjun shakes his head. Chenle raises an eyebrow with a sympathetic look that only loosens the knot in his stomach. He meets Donghyuck's gaze. They stare at each other for a moment and Renjun's mouth goes dry when Donghyuck shifts his eyes away, unable to hold the contact.

"I've got to go. The Romans and their absolutely fascinating mythology aren't gonna wait for me." Donghyuck leaves the kitchen without another word.

"Why did I have to end up in the same fucking accommodation as him?" Renjun mutters once he's sure the front door has locked. "I don't care that he's Jaemin's soulmate or whatever, I just don't want... can't... I can't stand the awkwardness."

Chenle taps his fingers on the table, practicing whatever piano piece he's currently learning, and tilts his head at the elder as he takes time to choose his words. "At least you're not at each other's throats, right?" Renjun sniffs, so Chenle tries again. "I'm sure you could still swap."

"But he's a nice guy." Renjun won't deny that. It's his own bitterness that makes him so insufferable, that ruins what could be a strong friendship if he were to give it a go. "All of you are. I don't want to move now. Everyone's already settled in and they'd know it's because of them. It'd make it worse."

"I get that," Chenle nods. "What are you up to today?"

Renjun is grateful for a mundane topic. He checks the schedule on his phone. "I've got a tutorial to review our work so far this term. And a lecture on the history of contemporary art this afternoon."

"I've got a two-hour piano lesson. I haven't practiced for three days. Wish me luck," Chenle says, throws a wink, then leaves to gather his things, calling through to say goodbye to Renjun before leaving.

Renjun smiles to himself for a minute. Chenle's always able to gloss over a tricky subject in a way that provides the distraction he so often needs. The silence of the dorm soothes him as he takes some deep breaths. Then, he notices the faint clicking of Jeno's keyboard. He must be working on the code he was grumbling about the previous night. And then there's the twinkle of the lofi beats Jisung falls asleep to. He unlocks his own room as his smile fades, unsatisfied with the peeling Taylor Swift poster and the scented candles with only a slither wax left and the faded blue bedsheets. He makes his bed, but doesn't smooth the sheets out, simply placing his bunny toy by the pillows before packing his bag for the day. He wonders what Mark's room looks like. If he lives in a flat, he must have more space, more freedom to make the room his own. Maybe he has a huge bookcase. Perhaps a sketchbook that's just as battered as Renjun's; the result of months of flicking through the pages in search of a single drop of an idea.

The tutorial doesn't go well. It's doesn't go badly per se, but Renjun fumbles his way through, bluffing the explanations behind his ideas and avoiding the professor's suspicion. The six other students have sketchbooks teeming with pages and pages of notes and annotations and plenty of ideas to discuss. Renjun watches the clock, practically able to hear the taunting ticks as the seconds drag on, and fiddles with the frayed ribbon attached to the sketchbook like a bookmark. Once dismissed, he thanks the professor and rushes to art to spend more time moulding his ideas. Although it's like trying to work with cold, dry clay – they don't budge, only flake away.

And to see Mark too, of course.

But Mark isn't there.

He sits in his usual spot, only it doesn't feel right without Mark. Despite the two dozen other students chatting and rustling snack wrappers and blasting the latest Harry Styles tracks, the room feels empty. The paintings hung around the room seem dull. The pencil in his hand feels foreign, even though it's the same one he's treasured since secondary school, the yellow and black coating chipped and chewed, the length reduced to half its original size.

Renjun knows Mark isn't an art student. He knows Mark only comes to the art department when he has some free time, when he needs to pour out his emotions in a new format. His absence could mean that he's doing great. But the sudden ghosting tells Renjun he really isn't. Stricken by anxiety, he drops his pencil and opens their texts on his phone. Did he say something wrong? Blood stings his lip when he chews it too hard. He reads the messages over and over again. They shared anecdotes from their week. Mark ranted about his older brother, which led to Renjun joking that he feels a little better being an only child. They were in the middle of a debate about if the Harry Potter books are better than the films when Mark just stopped replying.

But u can imagine stuff how you want when you read a book. With a film it's all just given to you, no freedom anymore☹it's not the same

Not even a rushed apology. No goodnight or goodbye.

Just radio silence.

Renjun wants to message him, yet doesn't want to appear too clingy. He isn't sure if Mark would prefer space or would prefer to at least know someone is worried about him. He's about to message Jungwoo as a last resort when an incoming video call from Jaemin takes over his screen.

He sighs before picking up.

"Jaem? What-"

"Can you come home?"

"Sorry?" Renjun shakes his head, puzzled when he's cut off so abruptly.

Jaemin presses his face close to the screen, eyes wide. For a moment, it reminds Renjun of the late-night video calls they'd do, both wrapped in their duvets, where the soft glow of Jaemin's bedside lamp would illuminate the sparkles in his eyes. The sparkles now only contain the icy threat of tears.

"Can you come home? Where are you?" Jaemin speaks again. His voice is rough. His eyes dart around. Renjun hears the rustle of bedsheets and the slam of a door. "I miss you."

The elder keeps his face set straight. "You miss me?" There's no sympathy in his voice, no space for kindness. Instead, he purses his lips. "Jaemin, you can't just come running to me whenever you feel upset. What happened to speaking to Donghyuck? What about him?"

"But I miss you. Not him." Jaemin pouts now, but it's more than a playful attempt at getting Renjun to comply. He's upset, not in a good place, and regret knocks the elder's breath away until he pushes his sketchbook aside and inhales deeply, like he's rebooting before trying again.

"No, Jaemin," Renjun says, firm. He ignores his ex's whines to carry on. "We need to stop clinging together so much. It's not healthy for either of us. What happened to just being friends? Anyone would think we're still a couple."

Jaemin winces like he's just been punched in the gut. "I'm not... it's not... Junnie, I-"

"Don't call me that." Renjun puts his phone on the table to rub his face with both hands. He trembles, quivers like a leaf battered by the wind, far from the tree it once called home. He didn't mean to be so harsh. But the damage is done, and pure hurt pools in Jaemin's watery eyes.

"Sorry."

"What's with the change in behaviour, too?" Renjun lowers his voice, conscious of the students who have stopped their own conversations to sneak glances in his direction, but the fire in his tone doesn't recede.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't act dumb. I noticed the way you danced into the dorm and baked those muffins like the happiest guy in the world. You hugged Donghyuck. You kissed him. You initiated it." Renjun picks his phone back up and the words fly off his tongue, the spring finally uncoiling, his patience finally snapping. "You initiated it, Jaemin. What was that all about? I thought you were uncomfortable with his affection."

Jaemin rubs his nose. He stalls, blinks as though the single tear that slides down his cheek sucks all his energy with it. He wipes it away with a rough sleeve.

"And don't just shrug."

Jaemin shrugs. Renjun fails to muffle his laugh. His ex may be upset, but it relieves Renjun to know he hasn't changed like he feared he had.

"I thought I could, like... you know... I thought I could, um, force it?"

Renjun deadpans, nostrils flared in sharp disapproval. Jaemin shies away to hide his face in his pillow.

"It's stupid, I know. Because now I've hit a wall and it totally drained me," Jaemin says. "But I thought I could just act more like Donghyuck. I thought it might help, or that I might realise that I actually do enjoy his affection." Renjun nods in understanding, softening at the truth. He wants to laugh but conceals it this time, not deeming it fair to tease. "I need space from him. All it showed was that I'm really not comfortable with it. With him. Not like I am with you. He doesn't give me a break, just clings off me all the time and I'm not-"

This time it's Jaemin who's cut off. Renjun frowns, then widens his eyes when Donghyuck appears in frame.

"Jaemin?" Donghyuck hovers in the doorway, hand poised on the doorknob, and even through the pixelated screen – Jeno tends to hog the wifi – Renjun sees the hesitation, the betrayal, the anxiety in his body from the way he hunches his shoulders and parts his lips. "Jaemin, why didn't you-"

The call ends before Renjun catches the rest of the conversation.

𓆩♡𓆪

A cliffhanger?? :0

Anyway, tomorrow I get my a level results and will find out what uni I'm going to next month so I'm starting to freak out now. The rest of the week is very busy so I don't know when or if I'll manage to get more updates out until next week (that goes for all my books)

In the meantime, see you on the other side I guess...?