Chapter Text
Story based on this tweet here.
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Porchay is usually a calm and understanding person especially when it comes to working on school projects but this particular one is driving him nuts. It’s a project for music management class and they are supposed to prepare a portfolio based on some selected profiles and promote the profile to their professor masquerading as the recording label.
The project makes sense but his other two teammates don’t. One of them is MIA. Like no one knows where she is or what she is doing. Porchay checked with the school administration and got nothing. It’s a little scary. The second one disagrees with whatever Porchay has proposed and is doing the bare minimum.
The last person, Win, is an absolute sweetheart and diligently working with Porchay on it. However, Win got into a car accident a week ago (broken right arm) and can’t really type as much with one hand.
It has fallen on Porchay to complete the stupid project. This is on top of all the deadlines of the 3 other different assignments and papers coming together in the same week.
Porchay’s usually on task. He’s a good student with excellent time management skills
but WIK, his favourite singer of all time, has decided to hold his first ever major concert, the SAME week, where all of the assignments are due. Porchay is a prominent member of the WIK fan club.
He has to prepare fan support, take care of the logistics, contact vendors for banners, posters, advertising, gifts and he has not slept for more than 4 hours over the past 3 days. In fact, he’s so busy, he hasn’t had time to eat his lunch yet and it’s already 3 pm.
He’s on his way to see the professor with Win, who is meeting him at there, for a last-minute consultation. Porchay’s stomach growls in protest but he tries to convince it to hold on for another hour.
He waits impatiently for the lift at the old music building where the prof is located and tries to remember if he had already finished the citation and references for the paper due that night. The lift door creaks open and he rushes in, pressing 6 and quickly hits the door close button.
Just as the lift doors are about to close completely, a hand adorned with several expensive-looking silver rings sticks itself through the narrowing gap. The lift doors give a sickening low groan as the gears work overtime to open the doors again, revealing a young man in a black cap dressed completely in black and wearing a black mask.
Porchay frowns and shifts further into his corner of the lift, not wanting to contract whatever illness the student might have. The last thing he wants is to fall sick on top of everything else. The student presses 9 and lift door closes successfully this time.
Porchay barely spares him a look as the student retreats to the back of the lift. He is more concerned about the incoming phone call from the printing shop doing the fan support banners for WIK.
“Hello! I’m in the lift right now and might get cut off.”
“Sorry to bother you but there was a slight error and the name is misspelled on all the banners.”
Porchay sucks in a breath and his voice goes cold. “What do you mean by that?”
“It’s W-I-I-K instead of a single I. We would like to check if you are alright with the error?”
“Uh… no. It’s WIK! W-I-K! And this is meant to be held up for him to see at his concert! Would you be ok if someone spelled your name wrongly on your birthday cake?” Porchay says as calmly as he can.
“We understand your frustration and will reprint the entire batch. However, we will need an extra day. Would that be alright?”
“I don’t have a choice, do I?” Porchay sighs in frustration. That would mean that he can only pick up the banners up right before going to the concert venue.
It would mean an extra hour of traveling time even by taxi, time that could be better spent finishing up the last assignment due on the day of the concert.
Porchay was going to submit early anyway but an hour earlier was going to mess up his schedule. He is about to agree to the vendor’s request when there is a loud sputtering from the ceiling and the entire lift lurches to a sudden stop. The small space is engulfed in silence as the engine stalls. Porchay manages to keep his balance as he had been holding onto the railing. He checks the LED display and it shows that lift stopped after the 4th floor.
Huh.
He looks down at his phone to see that the line has been cut off and the reception bar is non-existent.
“At least the lights are still wor…” Porchay says to himself.
And that’s when the lights in the lift go out, plunging the small space into complete darkness. The ventilation system seems to be running still. He can hear the comforting whir of the fan working.
“This is not too bad… the fan is…”
“Please stop jinxing us…” a quiet voice pipes up from behind him and Porchay startles. He belatedly remembers that he is not alone in the lift.
“Sorry about that. Are you alright?”
He gets a non-committal sound from the corner of the lift and starts to feel a little worried for his schoolmate. He tries to say something else but his mouth seems to have lost its filter. “This particular lift is cranky. It’s kinda legendary around here.”
The lift decides to throw a tantrum and starts shaking as the engine attempts to restart but fails with another loud, ominous sputter. Both of them let out gasps as they wait for the lift to decide what to do next. Thankfully, everything comes to a standstill. Unfortunately, this included the ventilation system.
“Well… let’s see if we can get some help. I’m sure the alarm and intercom will get us some help,” Porchay tries for a comforting tone. He switches on the torchlight function of his phone and shines it onto the lift buttons. He presses the alarm button but nothing happens. He pushes the intercom system and is greeted with static.
“It seems like we’re stuck here for a while,” Porchay concludes and he’s so done with this whole shitty week.
He is not going to make it in time for the meeting with the prof. He has a feeling that he will miss the next lecture but he’s got a valid reason cause he’s kinda stuck in the lift.
Porchay decides to take it as a sign. He shines the light onto the lift floor, happy that it’s clean enough and plops down cross-legged. He rummages in his bag for the granola bars that his hia always packs for him and rips open the packaging. He begins munching contentedly.
“What… what are you doing?”
“I’m taking a time-out and having lunch. It’s a granola bar. I think my hia packed some fruits and apple juice too.”
“We’re stuck in a lift.” Porchay can clearly hear the disbelief in the student’s voice. “It’s dangerous.”
“There are bra…”
“Please stop talking about the lift. Every time you mention something, it breaks down.”
“Sorry?” Porchay apologizes instinctively. “It’s just that I’m done with today. When we get out, I’m going to skip the rest of my lessons, go straight back home and stay in my bed until morning. Today is a lost cause. I’m going to try life again tomorrow.”
Porchay can feel the hard stare even in the semi-darkness. Maybe he would be less grumpy if he had some food. “Do you want a snack? I can share my food with you?”
He looks over where the light is shining on a pair of black Doc Martens and long legs encased in skinny black jeans. Then he hears a resigned sigh and the person sits down gingerly on the floor with a hand on elevator wall the whole time. The black hoodie, masked face and cap comes back into view. He unzips the hoodie and takes it off, revealing a white T-shirt underneath with well-defined arms. The cap comes off and long silky strands of hair frame a pair of stunning, deep-set eyes gazing at him warily. However, he leaves his mask on for now.
Porchay feels pinned to the wall under that intense gaze and a little hot under the collar suddenly. Right. The ventilation fan’s not working. “Here… I hope you like chocolate,” Porchay hands over the granola bar and he takes it, checking the packaging closely before pocketing it. Porchay finds his eyes wandering over from time to time. The student looks oddly familiar but he cannot place him.
“I’m Porchay. I’m a first-year student in the music programme. What about you?”
“I graduated last year from the music programme.”
“You’re my senior! You came back to visit your teachers?”
“Sort of…”
“Then… you must know WIK! He graduated last year too! You guys would be in the same batch!” Porchay says excitedly. “I’m a huge fan!”
The senior looks at the floor, maybe a little taken aback by Porchay’s enthusiasm. “I…uh…overheard the phone conversation.”
Porchay can feel his ire rising again and complains around a mouthful of food. “It’s such a mess, really…”
Now that he’s got a captive audience, Porchay goes on a whole tirade of how awful the printing company was. From wrong color samples to sizing and finally the error in printing. “This is the first and last time I’m ordering any items from them,” he ends off and drinks some water from his bottle to quench his thirst.
He offers the apple juice to his senior who shakes his head. The apple offered is accepted, placed into the same hoodie pocket. Porchay starts munching on his own apple and feels glad to have a reprieve to his busy week.
Being trapped in the lift with a highly-attractive senior was hardly a torture. Even if said senior was on the quiet side but he had mesmerizing eyes that still seemed really familiar to Porchay…
“It’s been twenty minutes. No one has realised that I’m missing. I could be dead by now.” Disapproval radiated strongly out of the senior.
Porchay cocks his head to the side, a little confused. “The lift will…Oomph!”
His senior’s face is suddenly inches away. Before Porchay could move, warm fingers press against his mouth, shushing him.
“Porchay, no.”
The command in his voice sends heat rising up to Porchay’s face and ears. He tries to push the hand away but nothing budges. Porchay is both worried and somehow turned on by the show of strength. Those biceps were not just for display.
“I plan to die in blazing gunfire. Not in a lift.”
Their faces are so close that Porchay can see the long eyelashes and feel the little puffs of air as his senior spoke. He can catch the final notes of a warm, spicy cologne that tempted him to get a little closer. Just a bit more.
“Are you done looking at me?”
Porchay can see the smirk in his eyes and hear the amusement in his voice. He narrows his eyes. His senior raises an eyebrow in challenge. Porchay shrugs, parts his mouth wider and gives those fingers a deliberate wet lick with his tongue.
His senior yelps, eyes widened comically before letting go.
“Do that again and I’ll bite you,” Porchay says, taking a huge crunch of the apple as threateningly as he can.
His senior stares in horror at the saliva glistening on his fingers, at a complete loss. Then he searches his pockets with his clean hand but comes up empty. There is no tissue or wet wipes.
Porchay finishes his apple and takes pity on the man. “Here,” Porchay hands him a packet of wet wipes.
“Thanks,” he says sheepishly as he cleans his fingers fastidiously. Porchay turns his head to hide a small smile. He recalls the man’s worry about no one finding them.
“It’s between periods now so no one’s using this lift. They’ll find us when the next period starts in 20 mins,” Porchay tries to allay his fears. “In the meantime, I’m going to take a nap.”
“You’re going to take a nap? Here? Now?”
“There’s not going to be a better time.”
“I’m not sure why I’m surprised anymore,” his senior says, shaking his head almost fondly.
“Is it alright if I switch off the torchlight of the phone?”
“Yes, I have this,” A fancy Swiss Army knife appears and the little LED light is switched on, bathing the space in a softer light. It seems that everything about this man is fancy. Way too fancy to be an ordinary ex-student.
Porchay switches off the app and settles into the back of the lift, stretching his long legs out as much as he can. He closes his eyes and can feel his senior shifting around to sit by his side. In the tight space, their shoulders touch in a comforting manner.
Porchay is about to drift off when the man asks, “I… why do you do it?”
“Lick you?”
“What? No! That’s not my question.”
Porchay opens his eyes and decides it’s honesty time. “Phi, I’ve shared my space, my food and even my saliva with you but I still don’t know your name. I’m not sharing my personal stories with a nameless person.”
There’s a sputtering.
“It’s Kim,” comes the soft response.
“P’Kim! That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Has anyone told you that you’re a menace?” Kim’s eyes crinkle in a smile that’s covered by the mask. Porchay wonders who exactly is the menace here.
“My hia but only when I make him angry. What did you want to ask?”
“Why do you do the fan support for WIK? Isn’t it a lot of trouble for someone you hardly know?” Kim asks. Porchay senses a genuine bewilderment.
Most people just frown upon their antics. The idea of spending so much time, energy and money on an idol was something most people didn’t understand. Porchay has kept much of this from Porsche too, not wanting to be censured.
“Maybe…” Porchay allows. “But I don’t need anything in return. WIK has already given me so much. His songs and live-streams got me through a tough time last year.”
The debt-collectors, losing their family house in the end, moving out and having to cut off ties with their uncle was a lot to deal with but Porchay knows that Porsche and him are in a better place now. They no longer have to deal with mounting debt and a house that always felt too empty. Their little rental flat may be small but it is far cozier. Hia only has to work at the bar and can study part-time. In fact, Porchay suspects that he’s been seeing someone too.
“I don’t understand. WIK is just a face on the screen. He’s not real. He is nothing but a made-up persona,” Kim sounds incensed and Porchay has to resist the urge to smooth away the angry furrow between his brows.
“WIK is still a part of someone who is real and that means WIK resides in him too. We’re just lucky enough that he decided to show him to us and I’m so grateful for that,” Porchay says earnestly.
“But what if WIK is the best part of m…him?”
“No one is perfect. Do you think right now, I’m showing you the best part of myself?” Porchay asks.
Kim lets out a snort and seems shocked at the sound. Porchay giggles.
“There we go. If WIK is one of his many parts, then I look forward to knowing other sides of him, whichever sides he is comfortable sharing with us. He just needs to know that he will always be my angel and my guiding light.”
Kim is looking at Porchay like he cannot believe Porchay exists and it embarrasses the younger man. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Are all of my… his fans like you?”
“Nope, it’s just me cause I’m special,” Porchay sing-songs and Kim’s eyes crinkle in a smile. Porchay’s heart skips a beat and he grins too.
“I just want him to be happy. That’s the most important thing.”
Kim gazes at him in wonder. “You are…”
Porchay never gets to hear the end of Kim’s sentence because the intercom abruptly buzzes to life.
“Hello! Are you guys alright? We’re opening the lift doors and need you to move away from them.”
Both of them scramble up while the repair team makes quick work of the door.
Porchay and Kim climb out of the lift using a ladder. There is a small crowd standing outside the lift that is made up of five scary men in suits who are speaking into various comms units and a walk-talkie. One of the men is talking to someone who looks suspiciously like the Dean of the Music Department who was almost in tears when she sees Kim alive and well.
Porchay is just greeted by his worried prof and Win who hugs him with his good arm. “You gave us a scare.”
Porchay hugs back for a moment and turns to maybe get Kim’s number or instagram account but there is no one left. Kim has been ushered away so quickly that it seemed like their encounter in the lift had been nothing but a dream.
“I don’t feel so good,” Porchay says, his heart feeling heavy. “I’m going to skip the rest of the day.”
His prof says he will vouch for him and Porchay splurges on a taxi ride home, feeling an odd sense of loss.
Porchay hopes that his hia will hopefully be waiting for him at home. He doesn’t want to be alone right now.