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“Why can’t you just ask him out?” Wen Ning asks innocently, and the whole table groans. Jiang Cheng bangs his head against the table.
“Because,” Wei Ying says, not understanding his friends’ collective reaction, “when he says no, my life will be over and I'll have to move back into A-Cheng’s disgusting apartment–”
Jiang Cheng’s head snaps up. “Hey!”
“–and live off instant ramen and crackers and I’ll never ever be able to visit the animal sanctuary again AND I’ll never ever get to laugh with him about shitty movies or watch him work out–”
“Somebody please shut him up,” Jiang Cheng interrupts.
“Don’t you think you’re being a bit dramatic?” Wen Qing says diplomatically, only a hint of exasperation leaking into her tone. “Lan Zhan isn’t going to cut you off if he says no.”
“Of course he won’t. But I’ll know he knows so I won’t ever be able to face him again. I’ll have to leave the country and find some remote house in the middle of a foreign woods–”
“I thought you were moving into my–” Jiang Cheng air quotes– “ disgusting apartment .”
“I’ve changed my mind. Your apartment is too close. I could still run into Lan Zhan on the street. What if–”
“Wei Ying,” Nie Huaisang says, grabbing Wei Ying by the wrists and placing his hands gently on the table. “Breathe.”
“I AM breathing!”
Huaisang releases his hands. Wei Ying looks around the table for support. At his side, Jiang Cheng’s head is thrown over the back of the booth seat and Wen Qing is rubbing her temples. On the opposite side of the table, Huaisang is slurping the remains of his iced chocolate and Wen Ning is looking confused.
“So…just don’t ask him out?” he suggests. Everybody groans again.
“But I am DYING here!” Wei Ying straightens in his seat. “Guys, I think– I think that I love him.” His emotional declaration is met with silence. Nobody even flinches. “Did you hear what I said? I LOVE him.”
“Yeah, we all know, dipshit.” Jiang Cheng snatches the untouched coffee in front of Wei Ying and starts drinking it.
“What?”
Huaisang leans forward on his hands, smiling kindly. “Have you noticed we spend most coffee catch-ups exclusively talking about Lan Zhan?”
“Oh no.” Wei Ying slaps a hand over his face. If that’s true, if his love for Lan Zhan is taking over his entire life– “I’m so fucked.”
“Have you considered the possibility he might like you back?” Wen Qing asks in a bored voice.
Wei Ying drops his hand. “He doesn’t. He can’t.”
“Why?” Huaisang pushes.
“Because I’m me and he’s him.”
“And what does that mean?”
“You know! He’s so nice–”
Jiang Cheng scoffs.
“–and generous and successful–”
“You’re successful too,” Huaisang murmurs.
“–and clever and hot. And I’m so–”
“Stupid?” Jiang Cheng offers.
“–nothing. I’m nothing.”
Jiang Cheng heaves a big put-out sigh and places his stolen coffee down. “You’re not nothing, fuckface. And if Lan Zhan ever says that, I’ll personally escort him to the hospital.”
Though Wei Ying would never sanction violence against Lan Zhan, the rare expression of support from his brother does cheer him up. He only gets called fuckface when Jiang Cheng is feeling overly sappy. Before he can tease his brother, Wei Ying’s phone buzzes on the table.
“I wonder who that could be,” Huaisang says in a strange voice, and everybody else at the table laughs, even Wen Ning.
Wei Ying ignores them, unlocks his phone, and immediately dies.
LZ: 😘
WY: ???
WY: what does that mean
WY: lan zhan
WY: youre always so slow at replying
WY: do you hate me
LZ: Two minutes is not a slow reply time.
WY: it was 3 mins and it was agony
WY: just tell me what you mean
LZ: Reminder that you promised to buy me chapstick today. 😘🛒🗒
WY: YOU CANT SEND THAT EMOJI FOR CHAPSTICK
LZ: Why not? 🤔 Chapstick makes my lips 🥰
WY: BECAUSE
LZ: Because what❓
WY: its a KISS emoji lan zhan
WY: its flirty
WY: you can only send it to people you want to kiss
WY: or MAYBE a relative in a very specific context
WY: or if ur french IDK!!!
LZ: I see. 👀
LZ: Your reaction makes sense now.
LZ: 💋🏜️
WY: what does THAT mean?
LZ: My lips are dry.
LZ: Like the desert.
LZ: Reminder to pick up chapstick for me today. 🛒🗒
Wei Ying slams his phone into the centre of the table, face up. “THIS is why I’m dying. Lan Zhan doesn’t know how to use fucking emojis.”
It started in college. In hindsight, Wei Ying never should have insisted Lan Zhan learn how to text instead of calling all the time. But everybody digs their own grave. Or creates their own hell. Or puts access to inappropriate emojis in the hands of their crush.
The first emojis came out of nowhere. One day while Wei Ying was in class trying to, you know, concentrate, he received the most absurd text.
LZ: 🥵✊
WY: …
WY: lan zhan?
WY: are you ok???
WY: why arent you answering my calls?
WY: you cant just send that and disappear
WY: do you know what that looks like?
WY: i know you dont
WY: you cant use emojis like that
WY: im in CLASS
WY: WHAT DID YOU MEAN?
LZ: They are emojis.
WY: finally
WY: I KNOW that
LZ: Why did you never show me them?
WY: i didnt think youd like them!?
LZ: I like them.
LZ: A lot. 🎭
WY: what did you mean
LZ: 🥴 Be specific.
WY: urgh dont use that disgusting emoji ever
WY: WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY THIS: 🥵✊
LZ: I burnt my tongue.
WY: why would you urrghhhhhh
WY: nevermind
WY: but why THAT FIST?
LZ: It perfectly expressed my frustration.
WY: do not use those emojis together ever again please
LZ: 🤤🧨
LZ: Is this better?
WY: no
Since then, Wei Ying has been forced to endure so many inappropriate emojis from Lan Zhan, he’s lost count. And it’s not good for his fragile heart. Though he knows better, every time he gets romantic or sexual emojis from Lan Zhan, there’s a big part of him hoping Lan Zhan actually means them this time. And that part is crushed over and over again when Lan Zhan inevitably explains his true intentions.
But he doesn’t hate it enough to stop wanting more. It’s complicated.
Actually, it’s kinda fucked up.
It’s been six years since they met and almost six years of emojis. Wei Ying and Lan Zhan have upgraded from college dormmates to housemates. But they’re still just friends. They’re always just friends.
And Lan Zhan, emojis aside, is a great friend. He cooks and cleans and plays the most beautiful music in the house (at respectable times) and remembers all Wei Ying's favourite things and says yes to anything Wei Ying suggests and always knows when Wei Ying needs cheering up and– well, he’s perfect.
And then there’s Wei Ying. He barely remembers to move clothes from the washer to the dryer – Lan Zhan usually ends up doing it for him – and is usually only inspired to play his dizi after midnight and he turns the kitchen into a dumpsite every time he cooks and he once left the door unlocked and they got robbed and– well, isn’t that enough?
Since his confession to his friends, Wei Ying’s been on edge too. If his affection was already obvious to them, could it be obvious to Lan Zhan too? Has Lan Zhan just been ignoring it all these years to avoid breaking Wei Ying's heart. Does he pity Wei Ying? Urgh, could there be anything worse?
“Wei Ying?”
Wei Ying snaps out of his thoughts. Lan Zhan is staring at him over their kitchen counter with his trademark blank expression. “What?”
“You’re not eating.”
Wei Ying looks down. A bowl of congee, more red than white, is sitting on the counter in front of him. He didn’t even notice Lan Zhan put it there. “Oh. Thank you.”
“You never say thank you.”
That brings Wei Ying back to life. “I say thank you all the time!”
“Sure.” Lan Zhan’s expression doesn’t change but Wei Ying can hear the smirk in his voice.
“Hey!” Wei Ying absent-mindedly shoves a biteful of congee into his mouth. It’s as spicy as it looks. “You don’t know my life. I’ve had to say thank you to so many snobby rich people at work.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Lan Zhan admonishes. He comes around the counter and slips into the neighbouring seat with his own bowl. He always insists on cleaning the kitchen before he starts eating. “Being grateful shouldn’t be a chore.”
“I AM grateful. For this.” Wei Ying pushes more congee into his mouth and continues. “But saying thank you is so performative. It doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“Hm. Perhaps it means something to the people you say it to?” Lan Zhan suggests innocently. Then starts eating.
He won’t talk during a meal so Wei Ying doesn’t bother arguing but he does ponder Lan Zhan's words in his head. Is Lan Zhan hinting Wei Ying should say thank you more to him? Does Lan Zhan feel underappreciated? Has Wei Ying tried so hard to hide his feelings that he’s leaped all the way into behaving unkindly?
Wei Ying feels guilty most of the day, anxiously thinking over every single interaction since they met. He’s said thank you before, he’s sure of it. There was that time Lan Zhan surprised him with a birthday feast at the last minute after he had a fight with his family. He MUST have said thank you then. And the time Lan Zhan snuck Wei Ying into the bunny enclosure at his work after hours. Wei Ying distinctly remembers thanking him with a lap overflowing with bunnies. Or the time Lan Zhan called in sick to work to attend a concert with Wei Ying two hours away after Nie Huaisang got covid the night before. He absolutely said thank you on the car ride home…didn’t he?
“You don’t have to be here,” Nie Huaisang says, prodding Wei Ying in the middle of his back. Hard. “You’re clearly not here mentally.”
“I know,” Wei Ying says distractedly. He should be at the studio but he knew he was in no mood to create. Visiting Huaisang’s gallery still feels like work, even if there’s no paperwork to do today. “I– do I say thank you?”
“For what?”
“No, like, do I say it enough?”
Huaisang blinks at him. “I don’t know. I don’t care.”
“Lan Zhan hinted I should say it more. At least I think.” Wei Ying sighs. “It’s so hard to read him.”
“Hmm.” Huaisang holds open the door for a customer and continues talking over his shoulder. “Did you ask him what he meant?”
“No!” Wei Ying yells, and the new customer gives him an unimpressed look. He continues in a whisper. “What the hell? Why would I do that?”
Huaisang steps back and watches the customer browse the gallery. “I believe it’s called communication.”
Wei Ying mimes puking behind the customer’s back. “Sounds gross.”
“You could–”
The customer turns their head and addresses Huaisang. “There’s no price listed on this one.” They point to an abstract portrait titled Blue .
Huaisang gives Wei Ying a sly look before approaching the customer. “It’s not for sale, but I have more from the artist over here.” He leads them further into the gallery.
Wei Ying hangs back, checking out the newest art. This isn’t really work at all, but if he were at the studio, he'd just be staring at a blank canvas anyway. At least here, he can bug Huaisang.
Huaisang returns a few minutes later, and gives Wei Ying a look like Why aren’t you leaving?
Wei Ying ignores it. “ The artist ,” he repeats. “Like I’m not right here.”
“Your allure is your mystery. If people knew Yiling Laozu was a 25 year old who doesn’t say thank you and has stains on his shirt, the value of your art would drop instantly.”
Wei Ying looks down. There is, in fact, a red stain in the centre of his grey t-shirt. Unfortunately that explains why Lan Zhan was staring at his chest this morning. He rubs at the stain to no effect.
“When are you going to let me sell it?” Huaisang asks. He’s asking about Blue . He’s always asking about Blue.
“Soon,” Wei Ying promises. “I’m just– not ready.”
“I miss when you were a struggling artist desperate for cash.”
“Huaisang, you trying to take advantage of me?”
“Already did babe. You were too broke to notice.”
Wei Ying’s pocket buzzes.
Huaisang smirks. “That’s probably important,” he says, and wanders away.
It is and it isn’t. It does elevate Wei Ying’s heart rate, but only for a few minutes until he receives the inevitable explanation.
LZ: 👉👌
WY: ummm
WY: you MUST be doing this on purpose
LZ: What?
WZ: *siiiiiiiiiigh*
WZ: explain this to me: 👉👌
LZ: It’s a reminder that everything’s okay.
LZ: You seemed stressed this morning. 😔
WZ: next time the second emoji on its own will suffice
WZ: im ok
WZ: just tiredWZ: and in love with you
LZ: I'll make sure you go to bed early tonight.
LZ: 🛌👌
WZ: thank you
LZ: 💙
…The blue hearts. Lan Zhan’s been sending them for two years now, and they always hurt just as much. But it’s Wei Ying’s fault. The hearts are the only emoji Wei Ying never explains to Lan Zhan. If he knew how significant they were, he might stop. And getting meaningless hearts is better than getting no hearts at all.
Despite Lan Zhan’s best intentions, Wei Ying doesn’t get to bed early. Well he gets in bed at nine, at his housemate’s insistence, but he stays awake for another five hours. At one am, he starts quietly playing the dizi knowing Lan Zhan will be too deep asleep to hear. But an hour later, Wei Ying’s phone buzzes.
LZ: 🔊🔉🔈🔇
WY: is that your way of telling me to be quiet????
WY: and im the rude one for not saying thank you!!!!?
LZ: I apologise. I never meant to imply you are rude.
LZ: Also…you are playing an instrument at two am.
WY: so youre not gonna apologise for the mean emojis?
LZ: It’s.Two. Am.
LZ: You need to rest. 🛏👬🏻
WY: is that us holding hands…
LZ: It is us mutually agreeing to go to bed now.
WY: there’s only one bed…
LZ: 🛏🛏
LZ: Stop stalling and go to sleep.
WY: send me a heart and I’ll sleep
LZ: 💙
Wei Ying’s aware he is playing with fire, but there’s no harm when Lan Zhan doesn’t understand the meaning, right?
There’s plenty harm. Wei Ying stares at the heart in his texting app for another hour, feeling faintly sick.
He sleeps in, waking up face down in his pillow with his doona tangled around his legs. Lazily, he turns over onto his side to check the door to his shared ensuite with Lan Zhan.
It’s silly, obviously, but he deliberately leaves the door half open on some nights so that when Lan Zhan takes his shower in the morning, he could, perchance, look into Wei Ying’s bedroom and see Wei Ying in his underwear. Waking up and seeing the door fully closed again is confirmation Lan Zhan was in the doorway for at least a brief amount of time.
It’s basically nothing. Okay, it is nothing. It means nothing. But for some reason Wei Ying keeps doing it.
His phone buzzes at the foot of his bed, twisted in his duvet. He thinks about leaving it and falling back asleep but it’s probably Lan Zhan. And that possibility is enough for Wei Ying to sit up and search in the covers.
It is Lan Zhan. Of course.
LZ: 👋🍑
WY: exCUSE you?
LZ: Are you offended?
WY: i dont KNOW
WY: what could that possibly mean???
WY: WE WATCHED CALL ME BY YOUR NAME TOGETHER
WY: you know about peaches!!!
LZ: I told you I didn’t like that movie.
LZ: What about the peach?
WY: it means BUTT lan zhan
WY: BUTT
WY: and the HAND?
WY: do you wanna spank me lan zhan?
WY: because if not reign it in
LZ: Do you want to be spanked? 😶
WY: I DIDNT SAY THAT
WY: YOURE THE ONE SENDING SPANKING EMOJIS
LZ: I’m picking peaches from our neighbour’s tree.
LZ: She said she doesn’t like them so we can take as many as we want.💪
LZ: Do you like peaches? 🥺
WY: yes i like peaches for fucks sake
WY: pls just use words next time
Wei Ying falls back into bed, already exhausted again. It’s the weekend so Lan Zhan will be back soon to make a late breakfast and then they'll probably watch movies all day. And now, thanks to one text, Wei Ying will be thinking about spanking the whole fucking time.
Lan Zhan comes home with a basket literally overflowing with peaches.
Wei Ying peers over the couch at it, realising he will be reminded of the spanking text for days, weeks even, before they’re through with all the peaches.
“I'll pickle some,” Lan Zhan says, clearly misreading Wei Ying's expression. “They won’t go to waste.”
“Great.” Wei Ying pauses, then adds less sarcastically: “Thank you.”
Lan Zhan nods and takes his bounty of innuendo to the kitchen.
“Are you in the mood for anything?” Wei Ying calls as he flicks through streaming providers. Finding the first movie of the day is always a nightmare but once they’re settled on a genre, the picking process speeds up exponentially.
“Call Me By Your Name,” Lan Zhan says immediately.
Wei Ying twists back around, craning his neck to see Lan Zhan in the kitchen. “Lan Zhan! Are you making fun of me?”
“No.”
“You hate that movie.”
“You don’t.”
“We are not watching that. Any other suggestions?”
“James and the Giant–”
Wei Ying throws a couch cushion in the direction of the kitchen. It falls short by a metre. “Oh you think you’re funny, huh?”
“Mn.”
They end up eating a delicious stir fry with peaches and watching Secretary , Lan Zhan's final serious suggestion. Wei Ying googles the movie name with peaches just to make sure it’s not another joke.
He is deeply mortified when the spanking scene starts.
“You–” He starts to accuse Lan Zhan, but his throat closes up. He can only turn and stare at his cruel, cruel housemate. He can’t know Wei Ying likes him. He’d never be this mean.
“It has an 82% audience score on Rotten Tomatoes.”
Wei Ying throws another pillow at him. Then quickly scrambles to get it back so he can put it in his lap for the rest of the movie. He chooses all the remaining movies for the day without acknowledging any input from Lan Zhan.
Wei Ying goes into the studio on Sunday. He’s not avoiding Lan Zhan per se, he’s just avoiding the cursed peaches in the kitchen.
But as he stares at the blank canvas in front of him, he can only think of painting a peach. He resists the urge for hours, slowly mixing paints. When he notices the colour he is absent-mindedly mixing is the same shade of the peaches at home, he gives up and reluctantly starts painting.
The buzz in his pocket comes in the late afternoon.
LZ: 🍑💦💦💦
WY: I TOLD YOU NOT TO USE THE PEACH!!!
LZ: You never said I couldn’t use it.
WY: but you know it means BUTT
LZ: It also means peach. 😑
WY: ok fine
WY: why is the peach so wet?
WY: is the peach horny?
WY: is the peach covered in lube?
WY: WHY LAN ZHAN
WY: ANSWER ME
WY: why are you taking so long to reply????
LZ: The peaches are juicier than normal.
LZ: If you eat them fresh, I suggest bending over the sink.
LZ: My peach is dripping all over me. 💦🤲
WY: kill me
WY: actually you know what
WY: you deserve to have peaches ruined for you too
Wei Ying sends a quick snap of his unfinished painting. In his frustration, he’s made something truly ridiculous. It’s the outline of a naked man lying face down in bed but in place of his arse is a fuzzy, round peach. Since Wei Ying spent all day shading the peach to match the ones at home, the rest of the painting is fairly bare and he’s confident it isn’t obvious the bedroom is his own.
LZ: Wei Ying.
LZ: So beautiful.
LZ: You’re so talented.
LZ: 🤤💙
WY: haha
WY: i dont even want to know
“I hear you’re finally planning to ask Lan Zhan out,” Jiang Yanli says casually as she leans over the table to fill Wei Ying’s bowl. She always insists on serving her brothers even though her husband hates it – “They’ve been old enough to feed themselves for two decades!”
“Jiejie no!” Jiang Cheng complains from the head of the table – he insists on the spot to spite Jin Zixuan. “I just started eating.”
Jin Zixuan looks up sharply at Wei Ying. “You like Lan Zhan?”
“Is everybody this dense?” Jiang Cheng says with his mouth full. “He never talks about anything else…Can we please talk about anything else?”
“I thought you were straight,” Jin Zixuan continues.
And that comment cannot go undisputed. Wei Ying takes a break from sliding vegetables from his bowl to the napkin in his lap. “I’m so offended.” He points at his visible outfit, a black corset with red lacing for fuck’s sake. “What about this is giving straight?”
Jin Zixuan shrugs. “I don’t judge by appearances. You’ve only dated women.”
“Woooow,” Wei Ying says around a mouthful of pork, “bisexual erasure.”
Jiang Cheng slams his chopsticks down and scowls at Jin Zixuan. “Yeah. Don’t be biphobic, asshole.”
“Actually–” Jin Zixuan’s eyes flick to Jiang Yanli and she nods– “I’m bi too.” His face flushes deep red.
“Oh.” Wei Ying is so surprised he stops eating. “I thought you were straight.”
Jin Zixuan smiles. “Because I’ve only dated women?”
“Um, yeah, I guess. Sorry.”
“And you’re so boring,” Jiang Cheng adds.
“A-Cheng!” Jiang Yanli snaps.
“What? He’s never come to Pride with us.”
Jin Zixuan clears his throat. “I wasn’t sure if I belonged there,” he says quietly.
Jiang Cheng grunts and recovers his chopsticks. “Well, you’re coming this year.”
“And I’m choosing your outfit,” Wei Ying adds. There’s an outrageous rainbow jumpsuit sitting in his closet begging to embarrass somebody.
“Okay,” Jin Zixuan agrees easily. His smile is less smug than usual. “So Lan Zhan?”
Jiang Cheng groans. “He loves him and he’s too chicken shit to ask him out. And Lan Zhan doesn’t know how to use emojis and it’s breaking his heart. That’s everything. Can we move on now?”
“What do you mean he doesn’t know how to use emojis?” Jin Zixuan asks.
“Fuck me.” Jiang Cheng scoops up his bowl and leaves through the door to the adjacent living room.
Jin Zixuan stares at Wei Ying, waiting for an answer. It’s weird – he’s never been so invested in Wei Ying’s life before. He’s usually much more reserved at dinner.
Wei Ying plays with his phone in his pocket. “He accidentally sends me a lot of romantic and…um…inappropriate emojis.”
Jin Zixuan laughs. And keeps laughing. His face turns red again.
“What? What’s so funny? Wait. You’re friends with Lan Zhan. What do you know?”
Jin Zixuan waves his hands as he tries to speak but no words come out. “Nothing,” he finally splutters. “Nothing.”
Jiang Yanli elbows her husband and he straightens up. She smiles sweetly at Wei Ying. “When will you ask him out?”
Wei Ying sighs and drops his head onto one hand. “Never.”
“A-Xian…”
“I don’t know! When he shows any interest in me.”
Jin Zixuan starts laughing again. Which is just cruel. Yes, Wei Ying knows it is unlikely Lan Zhan will show interest, but is he not allowed to hope?
Jiang Yanli leans over to ruffle Wei Ying’s hair, but in the process her eyes dart down to his lap and she frowns. Wei Ying quickly folds the napkin over the vegetables, then pulls out his phone to hide behind it.
WY: lan zhan
WY: SAVE ME
LZ: 🙀
WY: shijie caught me hiding veggies in my napkin
WY: im about to be banned from her house
LZ: Jiang Yanli would never ban you.
WY: fine
WY: but she might feed me MORE vegetables
LZ: 🍆😋
WY: WHAT
WY: LAN ZHAN!!!!
WY: IM AT DINNER
LZ: You should eat your vegetables. 🍆
LZ: They are delicious. 😋
WY: you cant use the eggplant emoji like that
WY: you gave me a heart attack
LZ: It is a vegetable.
WY: yes
WY: but it doesnt mean what you think it means
LZ: The eggplant emoji does not mean ‘eggplant’?
WY: it does
WY: but
WY: it also means dick
LZ: Explain. 🧐
WY: idk its just a thing
WY: idk why
LZ: You did not know I was talking about vegetables? 🙄
WY: not until you said!
WY: dont use the eggplant emoji like that ever again
WY: i couldve died
LZ: Wei Ying is being dramatic. 😼
LZ: Don’t forget to eat your vegetables.
LZ: 🥕😋
Wei Ying looks up from his phone. “After six years, he’s finally discovered the eggplant emoji. My life is over.”
“For fuck’s sake!” Jiang Cheng yells from the next room. Jin Zixuan dribbles wine down his shirt and starts laughing again. This time, Jiang Yanli joins him.
“Don’t freak out when I say this…” Nie Huaisang hops up onto the front of his desk, and lets his short legs dangle.
“I’m already freaking out,” Wei Ying says, sitting himself cross-legged in the guest chair of Huaisang’s office. It’s a tiny room, more closely resembling a corridor, stuffed behind the gallery. They only ever come here to talk sales.
“Somebody’s interested in Blue.”
Wei Ying rolls his eyes. “There’s always somebody interested. It’s my best work.”
“Yes, but somebody very rich is interested. They’ve made an offer.”
“I’m not interested. You know this.”
Huaisang’s lips twitch. “You agreed to display it in the gallery.”
“Only because you told me it would help my other work sell!”
Huaisang picks up some papers from his desk and shoves them into Wei Ying’s hand. The offer for the painting is bolded at the top of the first page.
Wei Ying’s hand clench around the paper. “Oh shit.”
“Yeah, I thought that might help.”
“They’re like rich rich. What are they buying my work for?” He scans the rest of the paperwork quickly. “Why are they anonymous? Oh fuck, are they famous? Is a famous person interested in my work?”
Huaisang laughs and leans back on his desk. “Shame you haven’t changed your mind about selling.”
“Well actually…”
Wei Ying signs the papers immediately, caught in a flattered frenzy by the anonymous offer. But as he leaves the gallery, he stops in front of Blue and regret bubbles up in his chest. He doesn’t want to part with the painting. It’s not like anything else he’s created. It’s strange, and kind of cheesy but, altogether, it works. It’s perfect…just like the man who inspired it.
Wei Ying’s phone buzzes. He tears his eyes away from the painting to check it.
LZ: 🍒🍌
WY: …
LZ: You promised. 🤝
WY: i promised WHAT?
LZ: That you would start eating more fruit.
LZ: You won’t eat the peaches. 🍑
WY: youre slowly ruining all fruit for me
LZ: How?
LZ: I just want you to be healthy. 😍
WY: ill eat fruit today…
WY: if you stop sending emojis
LZ: Emojis are important to me.
LZ: 🤖💌✌️
WY: THEN LEARN HOW TO USE THEM
WY: ITS BEEN SIX YEARS
Wei Ying returns to the apartment early. He always skips out on studio work when he makes a sale. And with the value of this sale, he could easily take a whole month off.
Lan Zhan’s car is in the lot so he knows his housemate is home, but when he gets in the apartment, it’s quiet. Lan Zhan’s doors are closed, both the main entrance and the one leading from the bathroom. Which is weird. Because Lan Zhan never closes his doors before nine pm. He’s always available for a doorway vent from Wei Ying. Doorway vents are sacred.
WY: where are you?
LZ: In bed.
LZ: I’m having the best 🥜 right now.
WY: oh!!!!!!!!!!!
WY: wait
WY: fml
WY: let me guess
WY: youre eating peanuts?
LZ: Peanut Butter.
LZ: Did you know you can lick it right off a spoon?
WY: yes i worked that out for myself thankyou
LZ: Mmm. 🤤
LZ: Would you like some?
WY: NO
WY: why are you in bed so early?
WY: and isnt eating in bed against your rules?
Lan Zhan never replies to the questions, but he does magically appear to make dinner a few hours later. They do not discuss the nut emoji.
“I see him for Thursday coffee AND for Sunday family dinner so I have it way worse than you fuckers.”
“He visits the gallery at least three times a week.”
“Yeah but that’s work talk. I don’t hear about anything except Lan Zhan.”
“There’s plenty of Lan Zhan pining at the gallery.”
“Actually, you two are the only ones talking about Lan Zhan right now,” Wei Ying points out to his brother and Huaisang.
Wen Qing snorts and Jiang Cheng makes a gagging noise.
“I can talk about other things,” Wei Ying continues. He must defend his own honour. “I sold a painting this week.”
Huaisang lets out a bark of laughter, then quickly covers his mouth with his hand. “I choked on some ice,” he mutters, shaking his plastic iced chocolate cup.
“Which painting?” Wen Ning asks.
“Blue. I don’t know if you remember but it’s the one–”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Jiang Cheng interrupts. “We all know that’s a portrait of Lan Zhan.”
Wei Ying blushes. He’s never told anyone that, but it is an impressive likeness, especially given the unconventional style. He shrugs.“I still sold it.”
“How much?” Wen Qing asks. She loves talking about other peoples’ money.
“The details of the sale are private,” Huaisang says quickly. “The buyer insisted.”
Jiang Cheng slams his coffee onto the table a little too hard, spilling some over his hands. If it’s hot, he doesn’t react. “Fucking idiots.”
“Who?” Wei Ying asks, and his brother just glares at him. He’s relieved when he gets a text and has an excuse to break eye contact.
LZ: 😈🥒🍑
WY: you better be robbing a bank with a pickle and peach as a weapon
LZ: Why would I rob a bank?
LZ: Pickles and peaches aren’t weapons.
WY: nevermind
WY: whats got you feeling 😈
LZ: My pickled peaches turned out perfect.
LZ: I can't wait for you to try them. 😛
WY: that is not an appropriate use of 😈
LZ: I feel smug about them.🤭
LZ: 🤫 Don't tell anyone.
LZ: Humility is a virtue.
WY: cute
LZ: 😳
LZ: 💙
Lan Zhan’s pickled peaches are perfect.
Wei Ying should really focus on creating sellable work, but he hasn’t been able to stop tinkering with the peach painting all week. Today, he’s been working for hours on perfecting a single glisten of sweat atop peach fuzz. When he’s finally satisfied, he habitually checks his phone.
LZ: 🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶🙋🏻
WY: you dont like spicy things
WY: what could this possibly mean
LZ: I tried something spicy today and I liked it.
LZ: I’m interested in experimenting with more spice. 😏
WY: dont smirk at me!!!
WY: you drank three glasses of water last time i cooked for you
WY: and you didnt even finish your plate
WY: im pretty sure thats against your rules
LZ: I will work up to handling Wei Ying’s spice.
LZ: Also, there’s no rule against stopping once one is full.
WY: you were NOT full
WY: ok im cooking tonight
WY: so be ready
LZ: 😯🥵💦
LZ: I’ll prepare myself for you.
Lan Zhan is “full” after three bites of Wei Ying’s extra spicy noodles. Miraculously, his appetite immediately returns when Wei Ying brings out a bowl of unspiced noodles he prepared separately.
LZ: 🌹🍽️🌃❓
WY: whatever this question really is
WY: no
LZ: I’ll ask someone else to accompany me.
WY: wait
WY: WAIT
WY: dont ask anyone else
WY: where do you need company
LZ: My brother has requested our attendance for dinner tonight.
WY: he invited me???
LZ: Of course.
LZ: He knows you are important to me.
LZ: 💙
WY: oh
WY: haha
WY: kind of last minute??
LZ: He apologises for the inconvenience.
LZ: You are under no obligation to attend.
WY: no i wanna
WY: i mean i will
WY: i have nothing else on
WY: haha
LZ: Would you like me to pick you up from the studio?
WY: oh
WY: no im covered in paint
WY: ill come home first
LZ: I will pick you up and drive you home to change.
WY: but that doesnt make sense
WY: youre already home right??
WY: you cant come out all this way
LZ: I do not mind.
LZ:😻
WY: you dont have to
LZ: I will pick you up at 4.15pm.
WY: how early is dinner?
LZ: 6pm.
LZ: I have allowed for thirty minutes total driving time and an hour and fifteen minutes for Wei Ying to dress.
WY: hey!
WY: i dont take THAT long
WY: do i???
LZ: 🙊
“It’s a pleasure to have you here again, Wei Ying.”
Wei Ying chuckles nervously as he slips off his shoes. Lan Huan’s house is always pristine, the way Lan Zhan’s home would probably be if he didn’t live with Wei Ying. Wei Ying’s only been here once before and that was for a larger dinner party where there were enough guests to blend in (and secretly tour the whole house).
“Thank you for the invite,” Wei Ying says politely. Lan Zhan raises an eyebrow at that so Wei Ying drops his smile and sticks out his tongue.
Lan Huan laughs in his friendly way and guides them into his formal dining room. It’s spotless and sophisticatedly decorated, with far too much white for Wei Ying – at the dinner party he definitely irrevocably stained the table runner because there’s a new one now: still dangerously white but a different pattern.
There’s something else new too.
In the centre of the room, above an old-fashioned fireplace, is Blue , Wei Ying’s painting. Wei Ying freezes in the entryway and gapes at it. Lan Huan was the anonymous buyer? Does he know–
“It’s good, isn’t it?” Lan Huan says. “I only discovered the artist recently–”
“Yiling Laozu,” Lan Zhan says in a quiet voice behind Wei Ying.
“Yes!” Lan Huan beams at his brother. “You’re familiar with his work.”
“Mn.”
“I’ve never–” Wei Ying starts. Lan Huan’s eyes sparkle at him. He turns to Lan Zhan. “I mean, I didn’t know you knew artists.” He’d never told Lan Zhan his artist pseudonym or shown him any of his work for years, other than the peach one.
Lan Zhan’s face is tense. Still blank but there’s an uncharacteristic tightness to his jaw and a hardness in his eyes. He opens his mouth as if to speak and then closes it again. His eyes are unblinking, staring at the painting.
Can he tell it’s of him? Is the style too similar to the peach painting? Does he know what this one means? Does Wei Ying need to start investigating which country to move to?
Lan Huan clears his throat. “Why don’t we move out of the doorway?”
They sit down at the table, Lan Huan guiding both Wei Ying and Lan Zhan to sit facing the painting while he takes the opposite position. Wei Ying keeps glancing at Lan Zhan to check if he’s still staring at the painting – he is.
“We have one of his pieces at work,” Lan Zhan suddenly says.
Wei Ying turns to him fully. “What? Which one?”
“It’s of two bunnies. My colleague thought it resembled the gay mating pair at the sanctuary.”
“Is the painting as good as mine?” Lan Huan asks.
Lan Zhan’s answer is immediate. “No.”
Wei Ying sags in his seat. He’d sketched the bunny painting the day after Lan Zhan snuck him into the animal sanctuary. It means a lot to him, and it hurts to hear Lan Zhan discard it so easily.
“Ah, you two will just have to visit regularly to view my spectacular piece.”
It really is spectacular, Wei Ying thinks. And thank goodness, because it took him nearly a year. It’s a portrait, yes, but it’s more than that. It’s a mosaic of thousands of painstakingly replicated emojis overlaid together to create Lan Zhan’s distinctive side profile. It should look chintzy but it fits perfectly in Lan Huan’s sophisticated dining room. It’s the most beautiful piece Wei Ying’s ever made.
Lan Zhan doesn’t say much on the drive home, which is normal. But Wei Ying’s silent too so the atmosphere feels wrong. He’s nervous if he talks, he might be tempted to ask Lan Zhan what he thought of Blue. And that could lead to a very dangerous place. So he thrums his fingers on the window sill and keeps his mouth shut.
It’s barely eight when they return home, but Lan Zhan marches straight into his room and closes the door. Wei Ying stares at the closed door for a beat, confused, and a little hurt, then resigns himself to a boring evening of scrolling his phone mindlessly.
Close to midnight, he opens his texts with Lan Zhan and scrolls back, scanning for all the emojis he was never meant to receive. It’s addictive but painful.
Just when he’s about to swipe himself out of the torturous experience, a typing bubble pops up. Wei Ying stares at it, irrationally excited. Why is Lan Zhan up so late? What emojis will he send this time?
The bubble stays for ages, and Wei Ying can’t look away, not wanting to miss whatever large text Lan Zhan is sending. Then the bubble disappears and no text appears. It returns a minute later but only for a couple of seconds, then it disappears once more.
Wei Ying waits ten minutes, staring at his phone like a freak, but the little typing bubble never returns.
Jiang Cheng surprises everyone by dragging Nie Huaisang to family dinner. (Literally dragging Huaisang by his shirt into the head seat, and plonking himself at the adjacent seat he usually forces Jin Zixuan to sit in.)
Wei Ying makes eye contact with his sister. She looks just as confused as he feels. He turns back to his brother and Huaisang. “Are you two–”
“No!” Jiang Cheng’s face is violently red. “Shut up!”
“We’re just fucking,” Huaisang casually adds.
Jiang Cheng turns on him. “A-Sang! What the hell?”
Huaisang shrugs, a familiar smirk of mischief on his face.
Wei Ying looks between them. “Since when?”
“Since your brother found out I can deep–”
Jin Zixuan clears his throat loudly, interrupting Huaisang. “This is a family dinner.”
“Why did you invite him if you’re just fucking?” Wei Ying asks.
“Can we please avoid crude language at the table?” Jin Zixuan says. Everybody ignores him.
“I– I–” Jiang Cheng stutters. “Shut the fuck up. You don’t know anything.”
“A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli admonishes. She smiles warmly at her brother and Huaisang. “Nie Huaisang is very welcome here.”
Wei Ying rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, I bet he is…”
Jiang Cheng jumps to his feet and throws an accusatory finger at Wei Ying. “You’re one to fucking talk!”
“What?”
“At least I invited him to dinner. You’ve made no progress with Lan Zhan FOR FIVE YEARS.”
“Six,” Wei Ying quietly corrects. “And actually, I went to dinner at his brother’s last night.”
“That’s great, A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli says warmly, clearly trying to disrupt the argument.
But Jiang Cheng isn’t finished. “And?”
“And what?”
“Did you ask him out? Did you do anything?”
Wei Ying sags in his seat. “No.”
“Exactly. So shut your mouth about my boyfriend.”
There’s silence. Jiang Cheng’s face gets impossibly redder and he sinks back into his seat, deflated. As far as Wei Ying knows, his brother has never called anyone his boyfriend or girlfriend before. Beside him, Nie Huaisang is smiling smugly.
The rest of dinner is less eventful. Wei Ying receives no texts from Lan Zhan, not that he keeps checking his phone or anything.
He offers to clean up even though it’s his least favourite job, just so his hands will be too wet to obsessively check his phone anymore. Jin Zixuan saddles up next to him, drying the dishes, and occasionally sending them back to Wei Ying for a second clean.
They work in silence because they never really have anything nice to say to each other, and Wei Ying usually tries to be good for his sister’s sake. But as Wei Ying passes over the last washed dish, Jin Zixuan breaks it. (The silence, not the dish. It’s clearly a family heirloom or something because Jin Zixuan makes him clean it three times.)
“Have you tried sending romantic emojis back?”
“What? Why?”
Jin Zixuan smiles, uncharacteristically kind.“Maybe he’s waiting for a sign from you too.”
Wei Ying doesn’t intend to take Jin Zixuan’s advice. It’s not like Jin Zixuan is the expert on romance or anything. But his words linger in Wei Ying’s mind while he paints in his studio on Monday.
The peach painting is almost complete. Wei Ying doesn’t usually work this fast but he’s needed the distraction. It doesn’t keep his mind off Lan Zhan but at least it keeps him busy.
Lan Zhan hasn’t texted an emoji for over 36 hours. This morning, after Wei Ying left early, Lan Zhan had texted and asked if Wei Ying had had an adequate breakfast (he hadn’t) but the text was all words. It didn’t feel right.
Maybe he’s waiting for a sign from you too…
Damn Jin Zixuan for putting the pathetically hopeful thought in his head. Wei Ying sighs, carefully places his paintbrush down, and pulls out his phone. He supposes he could send one emoji and then immediately backtrack, saying it means something else when Lan Zhan inevitably rejects him. That way, he might not even have to move countries.
He’s not expecting for Lan Zhan to reply in kind and send him into a flailing mess.
WY: 😘
LZ: 😘
WY: haha
WY: do you need more chapstick?
LZ: 😅
LZ: No.
WY: so you remember what this emoji means?
LZ: Yes.
LZ: Wei Ying only sends it to people he wants to kiss.
LZ: 😈
WY: WHAT no hang on
WY: you sent it too
LZ: Do you want to kiss me? 🐬
WY: do YOU want to kiss me?
LZ: 🎂🍰😋🍴💙
WY: WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN
WY: LAN ZHAN
WY: WHY DO YOU DO THIS
WY: I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE
WY: IF YOU DONT KNOW WHAT EMOJIS MEAN DONT USE THEM
WY: IF I SEE ANOTHER HEART I MIGHT DIE FROM HEARTBREAK
WY: please
WY: take pity on me
WY: I know youd never sent me a heart if you knew what they meant
LZ: You think I don’t know what hearts mean?
WY: no
WY: you would never send them if you did
LZ: Wei Ying.
LZ: Would you like to know what the hearts mean to me?
WY: NO
WY: haha idk
WY: yes
LZ: I read online that blue hearts are acceptable to share between friends.
WY: oh
WY: haha
WY: ok
WY: no wait
WY: you read online??
WY: lan zhan lan zhan
WY: Do you look up the meanings of emojis before you use them????
LZ: Always.
WY: So when you sent the peach
WY: and the eggplant
WY: and the KISS EMOJI
WY: you knew
WY: you deliberately send me dirty emojis omg
LZ: Yes.
LZ: 😳 Guilty.
LZ: I find it difficult to express my emotions physically. 😑🤐
LZ: Emojis help me communicate my true feelings, metaphorically or literally. Or both. 🤷🏻
LZ: I send you hearts to tell you I love you. 💙
LZ: The blue hearts felt safest.
LZ: I know they aren't adequate. 🤏
WY: wait
WY: WAIT
LZ: ⏳
WY: you LOVE me?
LZ: 💙
WY: what do you mean metaphorically AND literally??
WY: omg
WY: OMG
WY: WHEN YOU SAID YOU TRIED SOMETHING SPICY???
WY: THE NUT!!!!
WY: on my godddddd
WY: im coming home rn
LZ: I’m still working.
LZ: But tonight…
LZ: 🚪👀🤸🏻👕🤤👈🙆🏻👖🩲🥱🍆🤹🏻🍑👅☝️✌️✋🖖🛌🦴🪨⚠️⏭🔊🕗🕙🕝🕠⛅🧨🚀💦✅✅🚿🫂🛏💙
WY: i have no idea what most of that means but YES to all of it
WY: 💙