Chapter 18 Come Home Bae-by #2
Cahya studied his friend, his brow furrowed with concern.
He could tell that Wynter was holding something back, something significant.
He knew better than to push, though. Wynter wasn’t the kind of person you pushed, Beck had warned Cahya of that before.
There were some things, some wounds, that ran too deep, that needed time and space to heal.
“Alright,” Cahya relented, picking up a discarded duster and giving a dramatic flourish. “Operation Bae-Friendly Apartment is back on track! We've got work to do, my friend. Let’s transform this bachelor pad into a haven before Bae walks in and declares this a biohazard.”
Wynter couldn’t help but chuckle, Cahya’s theatrics easing the tension that had settled over him.
He was grateful for his friend’s understanding, for the way he could lighten the heaviest of moods with a well-timed joke and a shared purpose.
He grabbed a cleaning spray, joining Cahya in his mission to create a space worthy of Bae’s visit.
As they worked, they fell into a comfortable rhythm, years of friendship allowing for a comfortable silence punctuated by bursts of laughter, shared memories, and the occasional teasing remark.
Wynter found himself relaxing, the weight of his secrets easing slightly as he focused on the task at hand.
He knew he couldn’t avoid his feelings for Yesoh forever.
He’d have to confront the truth, both within himself and with her.
But for now, he’d allow himself this moment of reprieve, this shared space of friendship and normalcy, knowing that the complexities of his heart would have to wait.
Bae’s visit was a reminder of the importance of family, of the bonds that held them together, even when life threw its curveballs.
And as he glanced over at Cahya, a smile playing on his lips, he realised that friendship was just as vital, a lifeline in the storm, a source of strength and support when he needed it most.
He wondered how on earth he could possibly explain to his best friend that his sister had ignited a fire deep within him that could not and would not be tamed?
Wynter paced his small New York City apartment, the aroma of cinnamon rolls a feeble attempt to mask the underlying scent of cleaning products.
He glanced at the clock for the tenth time in as many minutes.
Bae was due any minute, and a knot of apprehension tightened in his chest. It wasn’t the usual pre-sibling visit jitters; this felt different.
Maybe it was the lingering unease from his encounter with Yesoh yesterday. Or maybe it was Bae’s visit forcing him to confront the tangled web of emotions Yesoh evoked in him.
A knock on the door made him jump. Plastering on a smile, he opened the door to find Bae, a whirlwind of youthful energy in a pink puffer jacket, her silver streak shining.
“Wyn Wyn!” she squealed, launching herself into a hug.
He chuckled, returning the embrace, warmth spreading through him. “Hey, Bae,” he greeted, ruffling her hair. “Let me take your coat, how was your flight?”
“Exhausting, not enough snacks. Why would I eat crackers? When I fly with you, they give me marshmallows and milkshakes,” Bae grumbled, waltzing in like she owned the place, and her brother chuckled.
“That’s because when you’re with me I make sure we fly first class.”
“Ah yes, the perks of having a famous big brother.” She sighed, opening the fridge and taking out a jug of lemonade.
“I guess I needn’t say make yourself at home.”“Well yes because what’s yours is mine. Not vice versa though what’s mine is mine alone—we discussed this before.”
Wynter couldn’t help but smile at her assertiveness as an ever-demanding youngest daughter.
As Bae grew older, her appearance reflected her vibrant, unique personality.
Her style had become an eye-catching blend of colours and textures, inspired by the whimsical, dreamy aesthetic of shoujo manga.
She loved oversized sweaters in bright pastels, layered skirts with playful patterns, and bold accessories—chunky bracelets and quirky hair clips that she coordinated meticulously.
Her hair, a deep brown with subtle streaks of pink or lavender, fell in soft curls that framed her face.
She often pinned it up with cute themed barrettes or headbands that added to her animated look.
Her hazel eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, especially when she talked about something she loved, and her expressions were as dynamic as her outfit choices, making her seem almost like a character from one of her favourite comics.
Bae giggled, tossing her coat onto the freshly fluffed sofa, then bounced into the kitchen. He followed, reminding himself that Bae’s presence was a good thing, a grounding force in his current emotional turmoil.
“It's freezing out there,” she exclaimed, rubbing her gloved hands together.
“Come on, I've got hot chocolate and cinnamon rolls,” he offered, hoping the familiar comforts would soothe his own anxieties as well.
As Bae settled at the counter, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the treats, Wynter found himself studying her. He saw a reflection of himself in her eyes, in the single strand of white in her hair.
“So, tell me everything,” Bae demanded, taking a bite of a cinnamon roll, icing smudging her cheek. “Julliard, the city, the boys…”
He chuckled, pouring her hot chocolate. “Slow down, Bae.” He filled her in on life in New York, carefully avoiding the more complicated aspects—the modelling gigs, the emotional turmoil, the diary agreement, and most of all, Yesoh.
“Soleh’s here too?” she exclaimed. “Does he still have that ridiculous collection of vintage video games?”
Wynter laughed. “Of course. And he’s still convinced he can beat you at Mario Kart.”
Bae snorted. “As if.”
As they chatted, a comfortable familiarity settled between them. But beneath the banter, Wynter felt a growing unease. It was as if Bae could sense his turmoil.
“What about you, Wyn?” she asked suddenly. “Not to lay it on too thick but are you…you know happy?”
Her question caught him off guard. He’d perfected the art of appearing content. But beneath the surface, he felt lost, adrift.
“I… Yeah, sure,” he stammered, taking a sip of coffee, hoping to drown out the truth. He wasn’t happy. Not truly. Not like before the tragedy, before the weight of his secrets.
Bae studied him, her brow furrowed. She’d always seen through his masks.
“You’re not telling me everything,” she stated, her voice firm. “What’s going on, Wyn? Talk to me.”
He hesitated. Bae was more than just his little sister; she was his confidante, now that she’d grown older. He’d confided in her before, back when Beck had pulled away.
“It’s…” he began, struggling to articulate the jumble of emotions. “It’s Yesoh.”
“Yesoh!” She beamed with a smile. “I miss her, so much. What’s she like now?”
“She’s….” He sighed, glancing down at his coffee cup. “The same but different.”
“How so?”
“She’s still doing ballet, at Julliard actually. She’s stubborn as a mule. She’s intelligent, determined, witty, direct,” Wynter described, seemingly lost in thought. “She’s…beautiful. Stunning really, like trying to look the sun dead on.”
“Woah,” Bae gasped, licking her cinnamon-covered fingertips. “She was always pretty, Wyn.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, dumbass. You were just too caught up to notice.” She rolled her eyes. “But what about her has you so worked up?”
“I’m conflicted, you see, about the version of her from Waverly Peak and the version of her here in New York. I’m struggling to merge the two,” he explained. “I don’t think I view her in the same manner.”
Bae’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
He paused, bracing himself. “I don’t see her like one would a sister.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. He watched Bae’s reaction, bracing for judgement. But to his surprise, there was none.
“It’s about time,” she said, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
Wynter blinked, taken aback. “You’re not… surprised?”
Bae shrugged. “Wyn, we all saw it. Even Beck.”
He chuckled, a wave of relief washing over him. Bae’s words were a validation, a confirmation of what he'd been trying to deny. “Saw what?”
“That you two had that…zing you know. Like in Hotel Transylvania with Maeve and Johnny, you guys just clicked, you know, a little more than everyone else.” Bae brought to light, “you two were always off on your own at every function.”
“That can’t be the case. I don’t remember it that way…” he muttered.
“I’m sure she does.” Bae chuckled. “Men, so oblivious.”
“Bae Daehyun Kwon, I hope you know nothing about men and their true nature for as long as you can avoid,” I warned her.
“Then what does that say for Yesoh then, if the true nature of men is as dastardly as you speak of?” Bae questioned.
“It says that I have to work every day to show up as my best self with how I speak to and treat her, just as I do with you guys,” he clarified. “I am not exempt from the deep-seated flaws of my gender.”
“Exactly,” Bae huffed.
“But what about Cahya?” he asked, the worry returning. “He’s my best friend. It isn’t my intent to hurt him in admitting my confusion of what I feel towards his sister.”
“What is it that you feel, Wyn, Christ’s sake you can’t even say it out loud!” Bae sighed, throwing her arms up in frustration.
“Warmth,” he whispered, “when I’ve been in the cold all the days of my life.”
Bae’s expression softened. “Wyn, Cahya wants you to be happy. Trust me, he’s not the kind of guy who holds grudges.
Besides,” she added, her smile turning mischievous, “Jiwon and I used to say that there is no fathomable reality out there in which Yesoh Yeo was ever going to be just your friend. Friends don’t linger the way you both do in each others lives, like you always have. ”