They are in the middle of another interview and Chen has his signature smile plastered on his face. They’re talking about their album, he thinks. At least that what he deduces from the snippets he manages to understand. But they might as well be saying blah blah blah MAMA blah blah blah because really, Chinese is still an alien language to him.
His peripheral view catches Luhan leaning over Xiumin, whispering rushed translations of the conversation. It’s one of those moments where he wishes that Tao had a little more initiative to help him out. But the self-proclaimed kungfu panda is too busy eyeing the plate of fruit in front of them.
Chen sighs inwardly.
He is exhausted by the time they finish, too tired to say anything during the drive back to the dorm. So he settles for pulling out his iPod to listen to a Chinese For Beginners he downloaded online. He’s barely made any progress with his language modules, but the idea of listening to the audio tutorial until he actually learns something is rather a comforting thought.
It’s ten minutes into the How To Ask For Directions chapter when he feels their van sliding to a halt. “We’re here,” he hears Kris say, the others already but barely mustering enough energy to drag their tired limbs out of the vehicle and on to bed. It’s been another long day.
Chen is the last one in, opting to take his time rather than rush to the dorm. He is greeted by the sight of Luhan sprawled over the sofa, mumbling complaints about hunger or exhaustion or both. Or he might be bemoaning how much he misses a certain maknae but Chen can’t be sure, not when the singer is firing out rapid Chinese into the couch armrest.
It’s Lay who notices him standing in the middle of the living room, looking quite dazed and unsure.
“Jongdae-yah, are you okay?” Lay asks. He is considerate enough to speak in Korean, a gesture Chen appreciates because he’s too worn-out to process anything in Chinese. His vocal chords don’t feel like cooperating so settles for a nod and a smile, allowing Lay to take his hand and lead him into the kitchen.
“I’ll make us some dinner.” Lay says. “You must be tired from all the Chinese today.” There is humor in his eyes but also an understanding that it’s been a hard day.
“Thank you,” Chen manages to say in Chinese, testing out his pronunciation. It earns him a surprised giggle from Lay, the sound coming out as a cute little laugh, and it makes Chen think that it’s a reward more than anything else.
Lay gives him another smile and set out to prepare the ingredients of what seems to be omu rice. Chen moves to help but Lay stops him with a childish wave of his hand. It feels a little embarrassing but Chen can only watch him fuss over vegetables and rice and savor the feeling of being taken cared of.
If only for moments like this, Chen might just learn Chinese after all.
