“And now, after the break…” The host moved into the transitional dialogue and Weiran could see the camera pan out, swinging from the host to Xiaokai and Xingyu to the crowd, and then someone with a mic and a clipboard was calling for a cut and a break and the staff started to swarm the stage to fix the hair and makeup that Xiaokai and Xingyu didn’t need fixed. Xiaokai stood, said something to Xingyu, waved off the makeup team around him, and stepped off stage.

“Where are you going?” Weiran asked as he came closer.

“Bathroom.” Xiaokai rolled his eyes. “This is a bigger pain in the ass than I thought it would be.”

“You look good up there.”

That immediately got him a half smile, one side of his mouth pulling up, absolutely dazzling. “But not as good as Xingyu, right?”

Weiran opened his mouth. Closed it. Said, “Don’t be an asshole.”

Xiaokai just laughed. “I’ll be right back. I don’t recommend going on stage to talk to Xingyu. They’re probably still rolling the cameras.”

“Okay.” Xiaokai moved to leave, but Weiran caught his arm. “What you said, was it true?”

Xiaokai smiled again and let out a huff of a laugh. “What do you mean?”

“Your ideal date.”

“Why, do you want to take me on a date?”

Weiran hesitated, then nodded, and Xiaokai’s laugh got louder—loud enough that the host heard him and leaned over, trying to see what could have possibly made him get any further than that polite quarter-smile he’d been gracing her for the last half hour.

“Zhang Weiran,” he said, and then his voice got lower, softer—he leaned in until his mouth was right next to Weiran’s ear and Weiran could feel his breath ghost against his skin—“A-Ran.”

Weiran shivered.

“If you want to take me on a date, you have to actually ask me out.”

Weiran’s brain short-circuited. “What?”

Xiaokai was already walking away.

“What? Liu Xiaokai, what do you mean?”

He was already too far gone.

“I’m glad you’re getting along better.” Liu Xingyu suddenly appeared behind Weiran, slinging an arm around Weiran’s shoulders. “My best friend and my favorite person…”

“You’re still calling me your best friend?” Weiran pushed his arm off. “Weren’t you just being friends with me to blend in?”

“Well, yes.” Xingyu admitted it easily, even though it was just Weiran’s suspicion. He didn’t know how to feel about that. “But, you know, you’re the closest to a friend I have, so I’m just going to stick to the label.”

“You’re a natural liar,” Weiran told him.

“Thank you. I like to think so too.”