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Chenle is the last to join them and finds himself pushed roughly inside by Jaemin before he even gets a chance to discard his Jacket.
“Hey! watch it.” He warns before quietening down at the serious look on Jaemin’s face, soon followed by Haechan’s dark expression as he stomps towards them.
“What-” Haechan puts a hand over his mouth to smother his words. “Shhh.. quietly… follow me to the bedroom.” He says with a nod in said bedroom’s direction. Chenle looks between the two people crowding him in the hallway. Jaemin’s eyes plead for cooperation and Haechan’s face reveals nothing of his agenda. Their worried faces aren't ones Chenle is used to. Haechan waits and only after Chenle nods, does he take his hand off his face.
They pass by Jeno and Renjun on the couch. They seem frozen in place. Renjun’s eyes flick up to meet Chenle’s and- pity? or grief? He can't make out the exact emotions flitting across his face. Before he can figure it out, Renjun has already moved his gaze back, returning to his position as before; staring blankly and unsee-ing at the carpet of Jisung’s apartment floor.
A bitter chill spreads across his spine. Something is very very wrong here, and his senses keep him on edge. There’s a smell of something odd in the air, but he loses the scent far too quickly to decipher it. As he follows behind Haechan, his jacket seems to make an odd amount of noise in the quiet of the apartment. Was it always this hot in this room? He tugs at the jacket wanting it off himself already.
The door in front of them opens as silently as Haechan can manage. Ha leans against it slightly until it closes completely after they both slip inside. Chenle drops himself on the queen bed.
Haechan, still leaning on the door, takes a deep breath in, holds it for a moment before slowly exhaling. His hoodie is all the way up and the motion of stretching his hands in its pockets, presses the hood to his forehead which in turn sticks his bangs to his face in all directions. The last time Chenle had seen him looking so out of place was months ago with an incident involving tickets to a long-awaited venue, a scratched up car and 3 damaged portrait pieces.
“Please just tell me what’s going on.” Chenle begs, finally extracting himself from the godforsaken jacket hellbent on swallowing him whole. Extricating himself from the door, Haechan saunters over to sit next to Chenle on the bed.
“It’s Jisung…” He starts- not his most tactful way of starting this conversation. Chenle freezes next to him, blood running cold for a second before Haechan grimaces and shakes his head. “No. No. Ok. Jisung himself is fine.” He smiles reassuringly, calming Chenle’s anxieties ever so slightly. “A bit too perked up if you ask me. And that’s where the problem lies.” He sighs with a weight too heavy for his age.
“It’s not just him, Mark is in on it too. They… Chenle-” He takes Chenle’s hands in his and turns to face him directly as he says his next words carefully. “They decided it would be a good idea, If for our gathering this time, they were the ones to cook the meal.”
And oh. Well then... There goes his soul; detaching itself from his mortal shell and ascending to a better place. His stomach? It drops the opposite way. He hopes it stays down there, right there in hell where it’s cozy and warm, forget the body it belongs to. Cook? Jisung? Cook? and Mark? Words he never ever wanted to hear in the same sentence again, at least not in that order.
Suddenly everything clicks into place. This is what he was sensing when he opened the group chat to Jisung asking if anyone could bring over some carrots, and thought of calling it off tonight. He had 3 missed calls by the time he checked his phone on the way up to the apartment block. Two calls from Haechan and the other from Renjun.
Haechan gives his hands a squeeze, pulling him back into the present. “That’s why you were calling. Oh…” Chenle manages to form the words and respond. Haechan only nods with sympathy.
“I’m sorry. It was too late for us. Jaemin, Jeno and I arrived here together, when we saw Mark coming from the kitchen with a huge smile and promises of surprises for us. He had already set the table up and… Renjun showed up shortly after…”
He feels like he’s going to throw up. But no… that would be bad. An empty stomach to meet what is to come sounds somehow worse. He’d rather have the noodles and coke he downed in the afternoon acting as some kind of armor- or cushion- against the storm. He vaguely registers how Haechan’s hands are shaking against his.
The first stage of grief, they say, is denial. But fuck do they know. Chenle might create a whole new category of stages all by himself right here. Confusion, realisation and death. He thinks he might be dead. A ghost grieving his life. He was so young, still in his 20s and this is what the world had in store for him? What a cruel cruel world they lived in, he decided.
“Any… plans? Any escape plans?” Chenle backtracks, attempting to get back on track of the actual, official, grief stages; bargaining. “I could fake a heart attack? Get us to the hospital? They wouldn’t pack the food up for us or anything right? They can’t be that excited about it anyway and-” Haechan shakes his head hopelessly, clearly at the precipice of clearing stage 4 himself.
“We thought through everything already. There's no way out of it, you know that. We can’t just leave. Putting this together was already hell to schedule and it’s why Mark wanted to go all out. I have no clue how Jisung found out about it and persuaded him that he would help out too.” Haechan lets out an exacerbated sigh. Clearly this was some kind of destiny, plotted and planned to mock the five of them. No way out of destiny, he supposes.
“Okay.” He says weakly. Haechan is right, they won’t get out of it this time. But anyone would have a hard time accepting their fate, if they knew what was in store for them. He wonders if it would have been better to be oblivious until the moment of truth. Now that he knows, it’s like waiting for execution, dreading the moments before the guillotine cuts his head off.
***
Once he emerges from the bathroom after 10 minutes of staring in the mirror, Jisung and Mark greet him with excited faces. His friends, his executioners.
“So glad you could make it!” Jisung declares as he squeezes him tightly in a hug.
“Hi Chenle.” He hears Mark’s cheery voice calling to him as well. “Sorry we were busy in the kitchen. cooked all you guys’s favourites!” Chenle does a surprisingly good job at keeping his face neutral. He thanks them for hosting and makes his way to the gallows walking side by side with them.
The smell hits him before the table even comes into view. It’s an assault on the senses. It’s not any particular scent, just a strong mix of everything all at once. There are two different dishes of what he assumes are salads, one bowl of soup? And what catches Chenle’s eyes the most however, is the steak that’s half burnt on one side, completely raw on the other- and ok… It takes real skill to do that, Chenle can’t help but be just a little bit proud of what they’ve achieved here together.
He feels light headed and trips on his way to take his seat next to Jeno. Mark happily takes the seat on his other side, oblivious to the silent mournful atmosphere in the room.
“So,” Mark claps his hands together, bringing everyone’s attention back to him. “I’m very glad you could all make it. I was worried that I wouldn’t have the time to see everyone before I left but here you all are.” Mark smiles brightly at his old friends. “Well I won't delay any longer. Let's eat!” He raises a glass of orange soda, to which everyone joins in on the toast.
The hesitancy to move and grab the food would be noticeable, if not for Haechan who quickly- bravely- reaches for the salad and pours himself a heap of it. Smart. If a thing is meant to be eaten raw, the probability of it being poison to the digestive system has to be less. Right? Except the colourful chopped up gummy bears that tumble onto his plate have Chenle’s internals crumpling in on themselves.
Jaemin moves next, plate in hand he cuts some of the burnt parts of the steak and places it in front of himself. With an appreciative look to Jisung and Mark he starts cutting the meat in half. His knife is charred black once he’s done but his smile falters briefly. The inside of the meat is no different, resembling blocks of coal crumbling into ash at the contact of his knife.
The rest of them follow after. Each with their own strategy and attempts at separating the digestible bits of food from the not so digestible bits. Chenle bets on the salad (bar the gummy bears) and soup, not trusting either chef with the meat. The soup, at least, tastes more of vinegar than any other ingredient. bits of noodles, poorly chopped and squished vegetables (Jisung’s doing, he’d bargain) float around in a ratio of one to ten, substance to fluids.
Conversation soon starts flowing back up, providing them good distractions to get through the meal. Chenle can’t feel his tongue by the end. Vinegar mixed with the cola from his earlier meal burns his insides and his lips are red. He feels like the perfect science fair model of a volcano eruption.
When the meal was well and truly done with. The cloud of doom started to slowly lift from over their heads. Their usual jokes and jabs seeped back into their conversations.
He was going to miss this. The easy chemistry established in the group that was formed long ago. Sometimes he catches himself taking it all for granted. How rare and precious the moments they have together really are.
Seven years ago, in his music class he met Renjun and Haechan (who were inseparable since then, but mostly from Haechan’s insistent clinging than anything Renjun had to say), who introduced him to Jisung, a shy friend of theirs from the dance class held at the same time as theirs, just one floor up.
Mark and Jeno joined them at random. Both were each other's neighbours and friends from school. Sometimes they’d hang out at a tiny nearby cafe-restaurant where they sat across from Chenle and the rest; The place being their hotspot a street down from their classes. Which was consequently also where they met Jaemin. He was the new server whose shift lined up with when they would all visit. He built a rapport with his regulars pretty fast, fitting into their already existing framework perfectly.
It didn’t take long until there were 6 seats reserved for them in the corner of that place and 7 orders of their respective drinks already prepared for them when they walked in, with Jaemin always hovering nearby when he didn’t have tables to attend to.
Now they sit in the living room of Jisung’s apartment, some laying lazily on the couch. Chenle and Haechan strewn about on the floor in front of them. The TV is on, a random channel Jisung put on to provide some background noise.
The food was… filling, surprisingly. Don't get it wrong, it’s still going to cause some amount of discomfort for the coming days but it’s certainly an improvement on the last time Jisung had cooked them anything. One moment they were trying the ominous ‘fried chicken’, the next there was an ambulance on the street wheeling out a hallucinating Jeno out into the back of a van. Everyone else took 2 weeks to recover from the food poisoning.
Mark had disappeared back into the kitchen. Chenle looked up from his spot on the floor at Jeno. He had the worst of it, but even he was slowly turning back to his usual relaxed self, seeing how any major disasters seem to have been avoided this time. Renjun next to him is laughing at whatever dumb argument Haechan and Jaemin seem to be having about their favourite coffee. And Jisung is half asleep with his head on Jaemin’s lap, a hand placed over his eyes to shield it from the lightbulb above him.
“So where’s Mark gone off to?” Jeno asks.
“Saw him go to the kitchen.” Chenle shrugs.
“He what?” Jisung sits up quickly, all sleep leaving him immediately.
“What’s the big deal?” Jaemin inquires.
“It’s just a very very bad idea is what!” Jisung looks towards the closed kitchen curtains at the same time as a yelp and crash is heard from behind it. Jeno jumps up, rushing to the sounds with everyone else in tow.
“Mark? Are you okay?” Jeno is the first to enter the kitchen. When Chenle pulls aside the curtain to look inside, he’s not sure what he’s even looking at. It takes him several seconds to visually process and parse the sight in front of him. The kitchen looks like a bio-engineering test gone wrong. Not only is every visible surface covered in one coat of white powder but there’s smudges and what he’s sure is a half baked pancake on the ceiling. There are egg shells on the counters (Chenle wonders where in the food they prepared they even used the eggs), a broken in half pan on the ground -… impressive- and there’s a chair tipped over. Next to it is a slumped over body, recognisable as his friend.
Jeno rushes to Mark’s side sliding an arm around him to pull him up. He groans as he gets up but there’s no immediate scars visible anywhere, he’s fine. “I’m alright.” Mark confirms. Jeno breathes out relieved as Renjun makes his way over to examine the situation.
“What the hell happened here Mark! And honestly, heaven’s sake. Forget the kitchen! Why won’t you pay attention to where you’re walking!” He breathes out slowly, letting some of his earlier anxiety wash away. He clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes at Mark’s sorrowful look and puts a hand around him as well to help steady him if he’s dizzy from the fall. “Don’t do it again.” He adds on.
“Sorry about that,” Mark chuckles. “There was just something we forgot about. We worked really hard on it too so I thought I’d just bring it out with some tea or coffee. But the floor was slippery after the quick mop Jisung gave it before yall showed up. So… yeah. I should have paid more attention Jun, you’re right.” He pats the two holding him up before they let him stand on his own feet again.
“Wait. What had you forgotten?” Haechan asks cautiously, some resemblances of the fear earlier in the day creeping back up his posture. Jaemin seems to catch on too, clutching onto Haechan’s arm. “yeah… What?”
“We made some cake?” Jisung responds unsure of himself, rubbing the back of his neck.
From outside, Chenle hears the TV say the basketball match he’s been looking forward to all week, was cancelled due to international flight delays. As if this day could get any worse.
***
They manage to extract the box Mark described from the fridge. Jaemin took the initiative to brew them up some of their preferred drinks while Chenle took time to make sure it is no longer a safety hazard to be in the kitchen by drying the floor with towels and clearing up some of the mess while he was at it. But even this wasn’t enough to prepare him for the gloop? of flour and cake batter that greeted him when Mark took the ‘cake’ out of the box.
“What the hell is that?” Chenle can’t help but remark at this point, his patience already running thin from all earlier events. Unfortunately, he notices, his tongue has started to gain some feeling back in the past hour too.
“What? It's a carrot cake!” Mark exclaims, raising an eyebrow back at him. Now that... is absurd. He takes another look at the abomination in front of him. There's certainly cake elements in there. As well as many other things… Bits and pieces of egg shells greet him, buried under big clumps of raw dough.
“No that looks… well cake is certainly the wrong word for whatever that is.” Renjun chimes in, in sync with Chenle’s own train of thought.
“That can’t be.” Jeno simply chuckles like it’s a funny joke.
“Wow… wowowow” Is all Jaemin gets out.
“No, I don’t see what the problem is. Jaemin, you bought the carrots for it! I grinded it up and sprinkled it over it all! see!!” He confidently takes a fork on the coffee table and scoops up large chunks of orange off the top of the structure, wobbling unsoundly in the middle of the serving plate.
“Who wants the first scoop?” Jisung continues with a smile, taking plates to serve them each chunks- not pieces- of the cake.
“Yeah I bet it’s really good!” Mark adds with enthusiasm. His warm smile pulling at each of them to smile along. Damn Mark. Damn him and his stupid stupid big heart and unfair puppy eyes. Damn his own heart. If it was Jisung alone it would have been so much simpler. Laugh him out of the room, get home safe and sound and then call him, just to laugh at him even more.
But this was Mark too. The guy who’s had their backs since they’d laid eyes on him. The one that would always show up for every important event in their lives. He’s been there for his tears and heartaches and there for when he couldn't put himself back together, to give him a hug and tell him that it’s okay to falter sometimes. That it doesn’t mean he can give up on everything he’s been working towards.
So yeah. For Mark, they’re powerless in saying anything but returning his smile in kind. For once in a long long time, there’s little arguing in the group. All hearts beating the same grateful tone, on the same page about this of all things.
Stage 5; Acceptance.
“Thanks for all your hard work.” Chenle turns to scooping up a big chunk and awkwardly shoveling it into his plate with a knife.
The others follow suit, not bothering to hold back on serving themselves spoonfuls of the blob monster. He can handle this, for his oldest and most cherished friends.
What’s a little death between friends anyway.