Prepare for the D-Day

After the meeting at Dream Entertainment, Sky didn’t hear anything from them. No follow-up email. No phone call. Nothing.

For a while, he even started to wonder if the entire thing had been just a dream—some bizarre fever-dream brought on by sleep deprivation and too much instant coffee.

But the truth was, he didn’t have time to dwell on it. Finals were around the corner, and engineering students were known for getting battered during exam season almost as much as med students. He barely had time to breathe, let alone worry about his possible future on a BL variety show.

His routine became a relentless loop: wake up groggy, cram knowledge into his skull, stumble to class, work on his group projects, try to eat something (if he remembered), study until his eyeballs felt like they’d fall out, then crash for a few hours and do it all over again.

There was a moment—three days before his last exam—where he woke up with his face stuck to his notes and drool smudging his pen marks. That was when he realized he might be slowly dying.

He’d lost count of how many days it had been since he last looked in a mirror, but judging by the way Alice—one of his college friend group members—gasped when she saw him on the day of the final exam, it must’ve been long enough.

“Sky! Oh my god, you look like a reanimated corpse,” Alice blurted out, putting her hands on his cheeks and squinting at him. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Sky muttered, sipping black coffee from a cracked thermos. “That’s actually a compliment. A corpse wouldn’t have made it to this final.”

After the last exam, the four of them—Sky, Alice, Brian, and Clint—gathered under the shade of a giant tree behind their faculty building. A rectangular metal table sat crookedly under the canopy, surrounded by mismatched plastic chairs. They were all too exhausted to care.

“I feel like I aged five years in two weeks,” Brian said, collapsing into a chair with dramatic flair. He looked like he’d fought a war—and lost.

“No kidding,” Alice added. She had two eye masks stuck on her cheeks like war paint. “I’m one dark circle away from becoming a panda.”

Clint arrived last, holding four cups of iced boba tea. “I come bearing nectar of the gods,” he announced, handing the drinks out like a hero returning from a quest. “Drink up. You’ve earned it.”

“You’re the only reason I believe in friendship,” Sky muttered as he took his cup.

“To celebrate our glorious survival,” Clint declared, raising his drink like a trophy, “what if we go out tonight? You know, eat something that's not microwaved noodles for once.”

“I can’t,” Sky said. “From now on, I have to prepare for that Dream Entertainment project.”

All three of them blinked at him.

“Oh yeah!” Alice perked up. “You never told us what happened after that mysterious casting invite. Spill!”

Sky sighed and took a sip of his boba. “It wasn’t a casting exactly… more like a meeting. They said they were doing this reality dating show for BL actors, and if everything goes well, it might lead to more projects like acting, modeling, maybe even singing.”

Brian raised an eyebrow. “Wait. Wait. Are you saying you're going to be in a dating show… with guys?”

“Yes.”

Clint choked on his drink. “Dude. That’s hot. Wait—you’re into guys?”

“No,” Sky said quickly. “I mean, I’m not sure, I never fell in love before so I don’t know if I'm into guys or not…”

“Sure, sure,” Brian said, smirking. “That’s what they all say until the ‘ship’ starts sailing.”

Sky groaned and buried his face in his hands. “It’s not like that. They said the chemistry has to be natural, and they’ll pair us after watching how we interact. It’s like… The Boyfriend on N*****x.”

Alice gasped. “I LOVE that show. You’re going to be famous!”

Sky shook his head. “Not if I’m the least attractive guy there. I walked into that room and saw at least 4 guys who looked like they’d walked off a Gucci runway. And then there was me, with my anxiety and bad hair day.”

“Sky, shut up,” Alice said flatly. “You’re adorable.”

Brian nodded. “He’s right. You're more the 'soft-boy-next-door' type. The kind that steals everyone's heart with one shy smile.”

“Exactly!” Clint pointed at Sky. “You’re the type who walks in and the audience immediately goes, ‘That one. I chose him.’ You underestimate your power.”

Sky blushed. “You guys are just trying to make me feel better.”

“No,” Alice said. “If I were trying to make you feel better, I’d lie and say your eyebags make you look mysterious. But I’m being real—you're cute. Period.”

Sky laughed weakly, then looked at them seriously. “I do need your help though.”

The trio leaned in.

“I haven’t told my parents about this. Only my sisters know. And they told me to wait before saying anything, just in case it doesn’t go anywhere.”

“So?” Clint asked, sipping his drink.

“So... I told my parents I’d go on a week-long trip with you guys after exams—to relax. That gives me cover for the workshop filming next week. Can you guys back me up on the lie?”

Silence.

Brian squinted at him. “You’re asking us to lie... to your very sweet and scary mom?”

“Please,” Sky begged. “I’ll owe you. Big time.”

Alice was the first to shrug. “I’m in. I want you to try this and get the full experience. Plus if you become popular I will have a famous friend that I can brag about”

“Yeah, I’m in too,” said Clint. “As long as I don’t have to wear a matching shirt and do a group selfie pretending we’re at the beach.”

“No promises,” Sky teased.

“Fine,” Brian sighed. “But if she looks at me with her ‘disappointed but polite’ face, I’m telling her everything.”

Sky grinned, finally feeling a weight lift off his chest. “Thanks, guys.”

Alice leaned forward, grinning mischievously. “So... tell us more about the guys at the meeting. Anyone... catch your eyes?”

Sky blinked. “I mean, they were all gorgeous.”

“But anyone who stood out?” Brian wiggled his eyebrows.

Sky tried to play it cool. “Well, there was this one guy…”

They all gasped dramatically.

“He came in late. Wore a polo shirt and long white pants. Super composed. He looked like a model straight from a fashion week in Milan. Even his hair had perfect volume. Not a strand out of place.”

“Did he look at you?” Alice asked eagerly.

Sky hesitated. “...Maybe. I felt like someone was watching me during the meeting, but I don’t know if it was him.”

“Oh my god,” Clint gasped. “You already have a potential ship! We have to name it. What’s his name?”

“I… don’t know,” Sky admitted sheepishly.

“You don’t know?!” they all shouted in unison.

“I didn’t get to talk to him. He didn’t even introduce himself. He just walked in, sat across from me looking like a walking perfume advertisement, and left.”

“Well, that just makes it more mysterious,” Brian said dramatically, eyes wide. “A star-crossed ship in the making!”

“I’m so down to be your fansite admin!” Alice grinned, already imagining it. “Like, posting blurry photos and conspiracy theories about your eye contact!”

“Count me in too,” Brian said. “If you get famous, maybe we’ll get free meals at the shabu place in exchange for your autograph.”

Sky laughed. “Wow. Selling me out for beef and noodles, huh?”

“What kind of friend does that?” Clint scoffed. “Forget shabu—we’re going big. I’ll take you to that fancy Korean BBQ place at the mall. We’ll definitely score free food if they recognize you!”

“So I’m just your ticket to free food now?”

“Basically,” Alice said with a wink. “But we love you, so it balances out.”

—

After spending the afternoon laughing and chatting under the shade of the trees, the group eventually parted ways. Alice had to rush off to her part-time tutoring gig, Brian remembered—mid-sip of his drink—that he had a shift at the campus café, and Clint mumbled something about binge-watching a drama he’d been ignoring all exam season.

Sky, on the other hand, headed straight home, weaving through the early evening crowd at the bus stop. The sky had started to turn a soft orange, casting a warm glow over the buildings, the sidewalks, even the weary faces of students trudging back to their dorms. It was the kind of light that made everything look a little gentler, like the world had exhaled after a long, stressful week.

The bus, unsurprisingly, was late—as it often was. Sky stood at the stop with his earbuds in, the music in his ears blending into the faint hum of traffic. His backpack sagged from the weight of textbooks and emotional exhaustion, and yet, for the first time in a while, he wasn’t thinking about grades or deadlines.

He didn’t plan to go anywhere else. No celebratory dinner. No party. No impulsive night out. Just home, his bed, and maybe—if his luck held out—a full night’s sleep for the first time in weeks.

“I might not be as good-looking as the others,” he murmured, catching a glimpse of his reflection in the bus window, “but I have to at least look presentable.”

The memory of the Dream Entertainment meeting clung to him like static—strange, surreal, and a little tingly. The other guys had walked into the room like they were born to be there. Confident. Stylish. Shining. Meanwhile, he’d spent half the time worrying if his collar was crooked or if he should’ve worn different shoes.

Still, self-doubt wasn’t going to get him anywhere. The workshop was just a week away, and this was his shot at something different—something exciting. He didn’t have time to spiral.

So, Sky made a plan.

Step one: Rest. One whole day of doing absolutely nothing. No textbooks. No errands. No emails. Just naps, proper meals, and maybe a face mask if he remembered he had one buried somewhere in his drawer. He told himself it was recovery. Survival. Resetting his soul.

Step two: Eat clean. No more microwave meals or instant noodles at 2 a.m. He didn’t suddenly turn into a health guru, but a part of him hoped that a few days of real vegetables might do wonders for his skin—and his stomach. He even made a grocery list: eggs, spinach, oats, fruit, yogurt. Adulting at its finest.

Step three: Exercise. Not at a fancy gym—he couldn’t justify the cost—but at the nearby park. The trails were quiet in the mornings, the benches shady, and sometimes you even got a cheerful greeting from an older jogger doing tai chi by the pond. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was something.

On the walk from the bus stop to his house, Sky took a deep breath. The streetlights flickered on, one by one, casting long shadows on the pavement. The hum of traffic had started to die down, replaced by the occasional sound of footsteps or a dog barking in the distance.

He reached the front gate of his house and paused for a moment, stretching out his arms like he could physically shake off the stress clinging to his bones. Then he stepped inside, dropped his bag, and collapsed face-first on the couch with a loud groan.

“I survived finals,” he muttered into a pillow. “Now I just have to survive fame.”

He chuckled at himself—because the thought still felt ridiculous. Him? On a streaming reality show? Paired with who knows who, doing who knows what, in front of many cameras?

But deep down, something sparked. He didn’t know if it was excitement, fear, or a weird combo of both, but it was real.

He didn’t have a personal trainer, a stylist, or fans yet begging for his photocard, but he had something else.

Determination.

And maybe… just maybe, that would be enough.

—

Sky woke up the next morning feeling like a brand-new human.

For once, he hadn’t tossed or turned or jolted awake from a stress dream about calculus. His body had gone into full hibernation mode—curled under his blanket since late afternoon the day before—and not even his sister knocking on the door to invite him to dinner had stirred him.

When he finally rolled out of bed, it was already bright outside. His room was flooded with soft morning light, and the scent of warm food drifted in from the kitchen. His stomach growled as if to say, You better not skip this one too.

He shuffled to the breakfast table in his wrinkled T-shirt and fluffy house slippers. On the table sat a bowl of congee, still steaming, and a glass of warm soy milk. His mom was tidying up the kitchen in her usual calm rhythm.

“Good morning,” she said without turning around. “You skipped dinner last night, so I thought I’d make you something warm and filling.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Sky said, sitting down and picking up his spoon gratefully. “Where is everyone?”

“Your dad went to the bank—he’s trying to sort out that loan for the shop, remember?” she said as she wiped the counter. “And your sisters left for school an hour ago.”

Sky nodded, scooping a big spoonful of congee into his mouth. It was thick and perfectly seasoned, comforting in a way only home-cooked food could be. He hadn’t realized how much he missed this until now.

His mom dried her hands and looked over at him. “I’m heading to the shop in thirty minutes. Are you coming with me?”

Sky looked up from his bowl, eyes twinkling. “Do I get to say no?”

His mom raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Cheeky. Of course you’re coming. I’m just asking if you want to go with me or show up later.”

Sky chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Okay, fair. I’ll come a bit later. I want to shower first and maybe fix this bird’s nest on my head.”

His mom gave his messy hair a once-over and laughed. “Please do. I was starting to think we had a tiny mop walking around the house.”

“Rude,” Sky said through a laugh, stuffing another spoonful of congee into his mouth.

“I’ll hang some clothes in the back before I leave,” she said, already heading toward the laundry area. “Don’t forget to lock the door when you leave, and don’t take too long.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sky replied with mock seriousness, saluting with his spoon like a soldier.

His mom chuckled and disappeared to the back area of their house.

Sky returned his focus to the warm breakfast in front of him, letting the silence of the house wrap around him like a soft blanket. It was a rare quiet—no deadlines looming, no exams haunting his dreams. Just food, the sound of birds outside, and a vague nervous flutter in his chest whenever he remembered what the next week would bring.

After finishing his congee, he washed his dishes, stretched, and headed to the bathroom for a long shower. The kind of shower where you stare at the tiles for ten minutes thinking about life.

He looked at himself in the mirror afterward—barefaced, slightly puffy-eyed, and a bit pale from the weeks of study-induced malnutrition.

“Okay,” he told his reflection. “We’re gonna fix this. One face mask and cucumber slice at a time.”

—

After a good shower and an awkward attempt at styling his hair (which ended with him giving up and settling for “mildly less tragic”), Sky threw on a clean shirt and jeans. He grabbed his small shoulder bag, double-checked the lock, and stepped out into the late morning sun.

The walk to the shop wasn’t long—just ten minutes through quiet residential streets and rows of mom-and-pop stores opening their shutters for the day. He passed a noodle stall where the owner waved at him with a ladle, and an elderly woman watering her plants who always reminded him he was “too thin” and should eat more rice.

By the time he reached the shop, the familiar jingle of the old brass bell above the door made him smile.

His mom is sweeping the floor trying to make the shop look more tidy before any customer stops by.

His mother swept the shop floor, tidying up in anticipation of customers.

“I thought you forgot where our shop is. Hurry up and sit. I need you to polish the bracelets in the second drawer. We’ve got that teacher from the prep school coming later—she always asks to see the shiniest ones, like she’s testing our worth.”

Sky set down his bag and got to work, slipping on a pair of gloves and grabbing a soft cloth. The bracelets were delicate, tiny chains with dainty charms—some with gemstones, others simple and elegant. The kind of things people gave to their loved ones on milestone birthdays or exam successes.

Just then, the door chimed again. A customer stepped in—Mrs. Ladda, one of their regulars, known equally for her love of chunky gold rings and her talent for gossiping like it was a professional sport.

“Good morning, sweet boy!” she sang out to Sky, clapping her hands as if he were a TV personality.

“Good morning, Mrs. Ladda,” Sky said politely, standing to greet her.

“You’re glowing today,” she said dramatically. “Has someone fallen in love?” her eyes narrowed.

Sky blinked. “Uh…”

“Don’t tease the boy,” his mom said, laughing. “He just finished exams. He barely knows what sleep is right now.”

“Oh, I see, I see,” Mrs. Ladda said with a mischievous wink. “Well, exams or not, don’t let the girls snatch you too fast. You’re handsome like a flower blooming after rain.”

Sky gave her a polite, awkward chuckle, trying not to turn bright red. “Would you like to see the new ring that came in last week?”

“Yes, yes. Show me the ones that sparkle the most. I’m going to my niece’s engagement next month. I need something that says elegance with a side of money, you understand?”

—

After the last customer left and the golden rays of sunset spilled through the front window, Sky found himself wiping the same spot on the counter for the third time in a row.

He was stalling.

He glanced toward the back, where his dad was busy balancing receipts with his usual intense concentration, and his mom was checking the small drawers behind the counter. Now or never.

He took a breath and tried to sound casual. “Hey, Mom… Dad… can I ask something?”

“Hmm?” his mom replied without turning.

“If it’s about buying new sneakers, the answer is no,” his dad said flatly, not looking up from the calculator.

Sky chuckled nervously. “No, it’s not about that. Um… so, my friends and I were thinking of going on a short trip. Just for a week.”

That made both parents pause.

“A trip?” his mom asked, straightening. “Where?”

Sky hesitated. “Uh… not too far. Just somewhere out of the city. You know, to celebrate finishing finals. Everyone’s exhausted and we figured we deserve a break.”

His mom gave him a long, unreadable look. “You’ve never asked to go anywhere overnight with your friends before.”

“Yeah, well… first time for everything?” Sky offered a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his neck.

His dad raised an eyebrow. “And who’s going?”

“Brian, Clint, and Alice. You know them. The usual crew.”

His mom folded her arms, thinking. “And how will the shop run if you’re gone? We’re entering a busy season, you know.”

“Actually,” Sky said, brightening, “both of my sisters finish their exams this week too, right? Maybe they can take turns helping at the shop. Like a schedule or something. I’ll talk to them and make it fair.”

His dad grunted. “You want me to trust your sisters to handle customer payments without giving a ‘special discount’?”

“I’ll remind them,” Sky said quickly. “And I’ll owe you both big time. I’ll clean the display glass every day for a month!”

His mom smiled at that. “You already do that.”

“Okay—then I’ll… mop the back room too. With soap this time.”

His dad let out a rare laugh. “If you’re willing to clean with soap, you must really want this trip.”

Sky laughed along, though his stomach twisted with guilt. It wasn’t a lie exactly… he would be with his friends, just not all the time. And he would be staying somewhere… and it would definitely be a trip of sorts.

“Well,” his mom finally said, “if your sisters agree to help out and you promise not to disappear off the map, then… okay. You can go.”

Sky blinked. “Wait—really?”

“You’ve worked hard this semester. If anyone deserves a break, it’s you,” she said, ruffling his hair gently. “But don’t stay up all night playing games.”

“No promises,” Sky joked with a grin.

His dad waved a hand. “Just don’t come back with a piercing or a tattoo. Or worse—without your wallet.”

Sky chuckled. “Got it. No tattoos. No piercings. No mysterious disappearances.”

He quickly excused himself to the back of the shop before his nervous smile gave him away. Once out of sight, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

It was happening.

The excuse was in place. The timing worked out. His friends were covering for him. His parents had said yes.

Now all he had to do was survive a week pretending he was on vacation… while secretly preparing for one of the biggest opportunities of his life.

No pressure at all.