JUVENILE JERKS
aerysian
Chen Qingqing can be exceptionally persuasive when she wants to be, and if the artist route doesn't work out for her, Fangfang knows her friend can succeed in the public speaking sphere. Drafting speeches or being a life coach, it matters not; she has the power to coerce others into things they wouldn't dream of doing under normal circumstances, and that is how Fangfang finds herself in Yuncheng's busiest and most exclusive shopping center on a Sunday afternoon instead of studying.
She latches onto Qingqing's elbow as they wind through the corridors to meet with Xiao Lan. The window displays are beautiful and ornate, but they're more than she can afford with her part-time cafe job. Once they reach the store, Qingqing throws her arms up in a Ta-da! motion, and Fangfang shifts her weight from one foot to the other.
"I thought we were going to buy something small," Fangfang says. She ducks her head as passersby give them strange glances.
Are they looking at her? Her plain button-down and tennis skirt? Her clear discomfort? She tries straightening her back and acting like she belongs here, but as seconds tick by her shoulders draw into themselves again. Or are they looking at Qingqing? If she was dressed as Chen Qingchen, they wouldn't bat an eye―the privilege of being rich and beautiful. But today, Qingqing wears a striped shirt and uneven overalls that make her look more like a farm girl than an heiress.
"I only said that to convince you," Qingqing cooes, clasping her hands in front of her face. "Sorry for lying, but I want to pay you back for being such a great friend."
Fangfang swallows her knee-jerk reaction to charity money. Last time, Yiyang told her he bought the cafe as a gift, and she lost her temper at the joke. It wasn't her best moment. She prides herself on her reservoir of patience, and she draws from it now to formulate a response.
"Thank you, but you being my friend is enough. I don't need material goods to show for it." She casts a glance at the dress in the window: sultry red and sleek with random cut-outs that make her wonder if they skimped on fabric costs. "Really."
By the time Fangfang's gaze turns back to Qingqing, Lan has materialized with an understanding smile. "I'd also like to thank you for supporting Qingchen this whole time. Don't feel troubled by the gesture―unless you'd like a home-cooked meal of black mushroom and pumpkin soup, water beetle stew, and questionably braised fish, this is one of the few ways we can return your kindness."
She suspects that a story lies behind that surprisingly specific example, and the suspicion grows when the two girls share a look and Qingqing scowls. With her best friend's puppy eyes on one side and her best friend's childhood friend's hopeful ones on the other, Fangfang stands no chance.
"Since you two put so much time and care into planning this, I'll say yes," she resigns with a sigh. "I'll be in your care, but Qingqing, please don't go overboard."
Qingqing salutes. "Yes, ma'am!"
But of course, the promise means nothing because this is Chen Qingqing, and she has the energy of Red Bull on steroids. It's hard to believe that, with a pair of white heels and a chiffon dress, the flip side of her personality hides her smile demurely and speaks in gentle tones that coaxes others into binding business deals.
Fangfang follows Lan and Qingqing through the store and does her best to catch the clothes they throw into her arms. A flurry of fabrics. A dressing room's curtain drawn. Twirling in front of a mirror more times than she can count. Before she knows it, they leave the boutique with two bags each. How many of the outfits are for her? Qingqing makes a point of stuffing the receipt into her pocket.
After the store is a spa trip where Fangfang is massaged, manicured, and pampered until her bones turn to jelly. She has to be pulled to the next location: a hair and make-up salon known for celebrity clients. Hands are constantly on her, tugging at her hair or swiping brushes over her skin. The day is a haze, and she learns to not look at prices or she'd faint on the spot.
Relief comes in rocking waves once she drags her feet into their dorm and flops into bed. Likely wrinkling her new dress, but at this point, all she wants to do is crawl under the covers and sleep until class starts.
Qingqing takes Fangfang's chin in one hand and a make-up removing wipe in the other. She pats it over Fangfang's skin, taking care to clean up the corners of her eyes. "There's one more part to your gift," she says.
Fangfang's consciousness is fading, but she manages to mumble, "One more part?"
"Well, this is more for me than for you, but can you dress up with me this week? I'll help you in the mornings."
What happened to Fangfang's homework again? Her gaze flits over to her backpack, hanging off the back of her chair, beckoning. She should get to it at some point. Everything due tomorrow is finished, but the Witch―or Professor Chen, as Qingqing tends to correct her these days―scheduled a test for this Friday, and the newest concepts make little sense. Yiyang's good at math; maybe she can talk to him.
"Pleeease?"
She purses her lips, trying to consider the request, but it takes too long for her head to connect the words to their meaning. "Okay. I'm tired, though, so I'll go to bed first." She pushes off the mattress to stumble into the bathroom. Behind her, Qingqing cheers with arms in the air.
.
The full implications of Fangfang's agreement doesn't hit her, even when her blanket's eased off by her eager yet hesitant roommate the next morning. Fangfang is an early bird, usually gliding through her routines with a zombie Qingqing at her heels. It's strange to see their roles reversed, stranger still to see her friend so energetic before seven, but since Fangfang promised, she follows all instructions without complaint.
She doesn't snap to her senses until Qingqing starts putting a thin layer of foundation on her cheeks.
"Wait, I'm dressing up today?" she asks. It's too late, she realizes with a start; she's already wearing the outfit laid out the night before, hair pinned back and woven at her crown. She fists the dress fabric. It shimmers between her fingers. Other than yesterday, she doesn't remember when she last wore something so extravagant.
"Yes, and you look amazing." Qingqing adds the finishing touches before sitting back to examine her work. Her mega-watt smile kicks in and nearly blinds Fangfang. "Why don't you check it out while I change?"
Fangfang nods, but she doesn't want to walk to their full length mirror. What if she looks horrible and Qingqing's too nice to say anything? If she could, she'd avoid mirrors all day. Not even peeking for lip gloss on her teeth, but it's impractical and childish.
She parks herself in front of the mirror, eyes closed, and takes a deep breath.
Her reflection is unrecognizable. The resemblance is there if you look closely, but it's easier to consider the reflection a complete stranger that mimics her movements, disbelieving expression and all. Don't misunderstand―she loves the transformation. She might be loving the transformation a little too much.
Zhang Fangfang is pretty.
Pretty in an understated way that requires a second look―maybe a third or a fourth until you realize you're making excuses to find her in a crowd. Yiyang knows the feeling personally, his secret to guard.
Fleeting comments of how attractive she is earn his glares until they scamper off, frightened. Even if they haven't put explicit labels on their relationship yet, Fangfang is his person. It's been worsened by Qingqing's reveal: if the brash and loud-mouthed newcomer is a stunning, wealthy heiress, what does her best friend look like underneath the layers of simplicity? It may or may not be the reason he finds himself at her side more often and walking her between destinations. No one looks closely at Zhang Fangfang when Lin Yiyang is there.
He denies it, of course.
Today whispers fill the hallway. He ignores them. His presence often sparks hushed conversation or terrified silence, yet no one's gaze falls on him as he passes. Interesting.
Yeban and Dalei are in the middle of one gossiping crowd, heads bent to giggle with others. Yiyang comes behind them and, with a sweep of his eyes, disperses the group. His idiots are left confused until he clears his throat.
"Boss!" Dalei jostles his shoulders. He's in a good mood, Yiyang notes. "Have you heard the news today?"
"If I listened to what everyone said, there'd be no time to do anything useful." And the most useful thing right now is to head to math class. He nods towards the room. They're catching up with Professor Chen's class, and he needs to understand the chapter before he offers to teach Fangfang like a knight in shining textbook notes.
Yeban and Dalei exchange a look.
"We're going to the other classroom to see Boss Lady. We'll see you later if you don't want to come with us."
The hell? Yiyang pauses mid-step. "Fangfang? Why?"
"Everyone's talking about her. Since she's our sister-in-law, you'd think we would have the information first..."
"What're they saying about her?"
"Eh, if I told you, there'd be no time to do anything useful―ow, okay! They're talking about how pretty she is! She and Qingqing are dressed up, and people are calling them Class 2A's Goddesses."
"...pick up your feet. We're going to the other class."
.
A crowd gathers by the time Yiyang gets there. It reminds him of Situ Feng's fans pressing up against the windows for a better look of their favorite idol, but knowing that these boys are there to see Fangfang makes him push through with more force than necessary. He shuts down complaints with a scowl.
Like he said, he spends an unhealthy amount of time looking at Fangfang. He has more opportunities than the average student, between working together and sharing meals and studying in the library. You would think he's grown resistant to her charm, buy seeing her stand between Feng and Gu Nanxi, with her hand in Chen Qingqing's...he struggles to draw his next breath. Beside him, Yeban whistles, and Yiyang would kick him if he wasn't so busy taking in Fangfang's appearance. He settles for learning those idiots in the crowd while he breaks through the front line.
Pretty is an understatement. Her hair falls in gentle waves down her back, and wispy strands cover her forehead, brushing against her eyebrows. A delicate braid on each side of her part keeps the rest out of her face. She could pass for an actress.
But what draws his eyes isn't her new hairstyle―it's her shoulders. The off-the-shoulder dress, layers of chiffon that fall to her ankles, is a shade of blush pink that matches Qingqing's powder blue one, and as if the exposed skin isn't enough, her features are accentuated by a make-up style that makes his throat dry. Yiyang has never felt so unequipped to talk to a girl.
"Oi, Lin Yiyang, c'mere!"
Feng's voice gets Fangfang's attention, and she directs her gaze to Yiyang, tilting her head. Goosebumps dot his skin―that look is more dangerous than she realizes. He forces himself to step forward.
"Do something about this," Feng complains, voice taking on his signature pout. "I told Qingqing to not dress up again because she gets too much attention, and now she ropes Fangfang into it!"
"It's only for this week. You're just being jealous again," Qingqing teases and pokes his side. "We don't have to worry if you're here to protect us, right?"
"It's tiring enough looking out for you. Who knew Fangfang had so many closet fans? Lin Yiyang, do you know how many love confessions Gu Nanxi and I had to intercept today?" He reaches into his bag and pulls out a pile of envelopes. Red, lavender, and all the colors in-between, decorated with hearts and hastily scrawled names. He's never been the type to learn people's names, but he feels mysteriously motivated to introduce himself to his fellow students. "And it's only first period."
Fangfang shuffles behind Qingqing with a soft, "There's too much trouble. Why don't I go back and change?"
"But you promised we'd dress up together! Situ Feng is overreacting, that's all."
"Oh, I'm overreacting?"
Predictably, the two start bickering. Nanxi exchanges a look with Fangfang, and they sidestep Qingqing's stomps like it's second nature. When Nanxi puts a guiding hand on Fangfang's back, Yiyang's eyes narrow. He plants himself on her other side.
"Are you cold?" he murmurs, visually tracing the slope of her collar. His jacket is in her arms by the time she nods.
She slips it on, and it's cute how the tips of her fingers barely peek out of the sleeves. She picks at the cuffs. "I promised Qingqing, but the attention has been overwhelming."
Nanxi pats her shoulder. "If Yiyang is free, he can help shield you when I can't."
She glances at Yiyang through her lashes, and he has to lean against a desk before his knees give out.
"Yeah, he's a good friend," she says.
"Friend...?" Nanxi's brow furrows before his face smooths out in some sort of understanding that makes Yiyang want to swing on instinct. Luckily, Nanxi's always had more tact than the average person and keeps whatever thought he had to himself. "What did Qingqing say, the whole week?"
Fangfang nods again. "And you know how she is when she's motivated by something."
"Since Yiyang is such a good friend, I'm sure we'll be seeing him around more often." His tone dances over Yiyang's head like it's dangling a secret out of reach. "You do look amazing today, Fangfang."
She ducks her head, cheeks flushed, smile blossoming, and Yiyang meets Nanxi's amused gaze with a fierce glare. His jaw clenches as he bites back scathing words. One of these days, Nanxi's penchant for teasing is going to get him in trouble, and Yiyang has no problem showing him the consequences of playing with what's not his.
The warning bell chimes. Outside the room, students grumble and disperse, leaving room for Dalei and Yeban to stumble to the front.
"Boss, we should hurry back to class!" Yeban says, and Dalei quickly voices his agreement, even though they're looking straight at Fangfang. If she tries to shrink herself any more, she might disappear. Yiyang breaks the spell by stepping in front of her, and they immediately scratch the back of their necks, grinning sheepishly.
Yiyang waves them off before turning back to her. "Keep the jacket," he says, tugging the front closed. She puts her hands over his, and he stills.
"Thanks," she says with a squeeze. He swears this girl is bad for his heart. The worst part is that she doesn't even know the power she has over him. He can see the jackass next to them practically writhing with glee. Self-reminder: tell Nanxi he's the worst later. "Are we still on for studying and dinner tonight?"
"I, uh," he clears his throat, "yeah, if you're not busy. I'm free."
"Okay." She squeezes his hands again, then steps back. "I'll see you then."
He tilts his head in acknowledgement and a silent good-bye to everyone else, including the still simmering but quiet Feng and Qingqing. The students settle into their seats as Yiyang leaves, but he glances back one last time before he steps into the hall. His jean jacket dwarfs her frame, and Qingqing is already trying to convince her to take it off to keep the fairy tale princess aesthetic, but Fangfang's always had a placating charm when it comes to 2A's resident spitfire. She gets to keep the jacket on. He smiles to himself.
Now back to those math notes.
a/n.
i think my favorite yiyang is protective!yiyang, especially when he stands in front of her to protect her. GAH. i think i've played that youtube compilation video of them a thousand times by now.
originally, this fic was going to be a secret operation headed by qingqing (with nanxi and feng's reluctant help and dalei and yeban's unknowing participation) where she's in charge of fangfang's styling for a week. if jealousy worked for herself and feng, who's to say the threat of fangfang's new suitors won't push their leather jacket-wearing, motorcycle-riding, woman-seducing, corner-brooding bad boy into confessing? so i leave it at this: only hint at what's in store for yiyang.
but this couple needs more stories. it is a crime against all things good to not have more content for them, so one day...the full fic will see the light.
note.
i've seen chinese names romanized as both one word and two words, like Fang Fang and Yi Yang in lieu of Fangfang and Yiyang, but netflix translates names as one word and that's what i stuck with for consistency!