HIM Chapter 32: He Fell in Love with a Man
After getting back, Bo Qin dove into the composition room. Inspiration was flowing nonstop, and he finished the piece in one go. Luo Ming wanted to take a look, but Bo Qin refused.
“I’ll handle the arrangement myself,” Bo Qin said, sipping hot coffee.
Luo Ming raised an eyebrow, half-smiling. “Oh? This song must be special?”
“Extremely special.” Bo Qin stared at the computer screen, his tone softer than ever. “It’s a new beginning.”
After finishing the song, Bo Qin asked Sister Chen to rearrange his schedule. She was so shocked her jaw nearly dropped. “The workaholic’s asking for time off? Bo Qin, did you hit your head?”
“Nope.” Bo Qin had just stepped off the treadmill. He hadn’t slept all night, but his eyes were bright with energy. He wiped sweat off his neck with a towel and said, “New single drops next week.”
“The one you just made today?”
“...No.” Bo Qin chuckled and looked down. “That one's not urgent. The one from last night with Luo Ming.”
Chen-jie asked, “Wrote it for the fans?”
“Yeah. Also for myself.”
She took out her phone to make a note. “Want to use that angle for promotion?”
“No, don’t.” Bo Qin said, “Don’t push it that way. The people who get it, will get it.”
Bo Qin scheduled a session with a therapist.
He didn’t tell anyone. Just drove there alone.
It had been ages since he drove himself. He was anxious when he first merged into traffic, but once the car hit gridlock on the overpass, he actually relaxed.
Inside the car, his own song “Don’t Walk into the Ocean” was playing on loop. His voice in the track was raw, on the edge of despair and confusion. Outside of the music, he leaned against the steering wheel and stared at the congested traffic. A strange feeling was still lingering inside him, and one clear thought rose to the surface:
He had fallen in love with He Xizhou.
The second the thought came up, his heart clenched. Bo Qin curled slightly over the steering wheel and sat still for a few seconds, trying to calm the storm inside him.
He liked a man.
That idea made him uneasy, even a little repulsed. But the second he thought about that man being He Xizhou… the discomfort vanished.
Turns out, he wasn’t homophobic. Turns out, his straightness wasn’t exactly ironclad.
Bo Qin popped a throat lozenge in his mouth and, with a rare clarity, realized this time… this crush wasn’t like the puppy loves back in high school. For the first time, he truly understood:
Liking someone could hurt this much.
I like He Xizhou.
Shit.
He chewed the lozenge with a blank expression. Then what the hell have I been doing this whole time?
When He Xizhou was sitting on the sofa reading, gentle and refined, Bo Qin had been next to him with a bare face and acne, sprawled out in a t-shirt and shorts, playing games on his phone like a middle school brat—and even yelling at his in-game opponents.
Bo Qin slammed a fist onto the steering wheel, setting off the horn. Immediately, a wave of honks echoed from every other frustrated driver.
He cursed under his breath.
Stuck in traffic for two hours, Bo Qin read through every single chat log he had with He Xizhou, scrolled through all his Moments posts, and crazily started saving his photos. He even opened the most official of He Xizhou’s official Weibo accounts, and when he saw the selfie He had sent him three days ago get a like... Bo Qin couldn't stop grinning like an idiot.
Staring at his phone screen, he thought: What the hell is this dumbass smile?
But he kept scrolling, searching for the slightest hint of personality beneath all those polished PR posts.
Once he finished scrolling, Bo Qin oscillated between “Damn, my taste is excellent” and spiraling into self-doubt. For the first time in his life, he felt inferior to another man.
He Xizhou did photography, painting, casually experimented with cooking, and every August and September, went off to different parts of the world to film documentaries. Undergrad: China’s #1 university. Master’s: one of the world’s top elite institutions. After graduating, he joined the He Group, and eventually took over the company.
He loved life. He enjoyed sharing. His social media was vibrant. Compared to that, Bo Qin’s own day-to-day looked rigid and closed off, his Moments feed as empty as a hermit’s.
And on top of all that?
He Xizhou had the face and the body.
Bo Qin covered his eyes. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to crawl into a hole. This guy is the literal definition of “rich, hot, and successful.” He’s the poster boy for CEO dreamboats.
“I don’t even have a high school diploma.” Bo Qin shut off his phone. “What am I even doing? If I begged him to sugar-daddy me, would he at least sleep with me once out of pity?”
“No, Bo Qin,” he told himself, slumping like a lifeless rag doll. “Have some dignity. If he’s gonna screw you, he better screw you enough to make it worth your while.”
At the very least, your gender puts you at an advantage.
Bo Qin snorted, pulled out his phone again, and opened the browser: “How to woo someone…”
Wait no. He deleted it and typed: “How to woo a man…”
Still no. Deleted.
Typed again: “How to chase a gay guy…”
“Fuck this.” Bo Qin threw the phone onto the dashboard. I haven’t even started and I’m already faceplanting at the starting line.
As the traffic crept along at a snail’s pace, Bo Qin glanced sideways—and saw his own face on a giant LED billboard.
He jerked his head away so fast he almost sprained his neck.
“Shit!” He rubbed the back of his neck and hesitated, but turned back to look.
The screen was playing his fall fashion ad. Surprisingly, it wasn’t as cringey as he expected.
Outside of concerts, Bo Qin hated watching himself onscreen. In front of cameras, he never really relaxed. That aura of confidence was nothing more than well-trained reflex. But concerts were different. That was the one place where he could forget himself.
Years ago, he’d watch his own ads for three seconds and get so disgusted by the forced gestures and fake tone that he’d break out in goosebumps.
But now, after all these years, he watched the full thing.
In a hoodie and skateboard, zipping down the street.
In a white turtleneck, reading on the couch.
In a tailored suit, at an executive desk.
He carried every look, every age, with style and confidence.
No longer stiff or fake—now it was natural, effortless.
He stared a while. Below the overpass was the city center, crowded with people and cars. That billboard ran 24/7. Then he realized why the spot felt familiar.
He looked down at the plaza—and there it was. The He Group skyscraper, towering in the skyline. And diagonally across, a tiny building:
His own little studio.
Wait a second.
I’ve been stuck in traffic two hours and I’m literally outside my own place?!
Bo Qin had people arranging his transport for years. Despite traveling all over, his routes were always: hotel, venue, studio. He hadn’t actually explored the city in ages—no wonder he drove in circles.
The traffic crawled forward again. Bo Qin put his hand on the gear and restarted the engine.
Four years ago, that same billboard was showing Jiang Rong’s jewelry ad. Back then, Bo Qin had nothing. He sat on the cold railing across the plaza in a thin sweater, staring at that billboard from afar.
When he founded his studio, he insisted—despite the crazy rent—on placing it right here.
Time really has passed.
This was Bo Qin’s second therapy session. The first was that winter, after his grandfather died. He hated opening up, believed private emotions belonged to himself. Apart from his therapist, the first person he ever voluntarily opened up to was He Xizhou.
When he stepped out of the consultation room, Chen-jie called. He wore a mask and hat.
She asked, “Did you just see a therapist?”
Bo Qin paused. “…Yeah.”
He was expecting this. “Was I photographed?”
“Yeah, it’s trending.”
“Tell Zhu Guanyun to suppress it,” Bo Qin said. “I’m heading back now.”
“This could actually be good PR—”
“Jie,” Bo Qin cut her off.
They went quiet. After a moment, she said, “Sorry, Xiao Qin. I’ll take care of it.”
She changed the subject. “So… was it helpful today?”
“Yeah.” His voice softened. He paused. “Really helpful.”
I’ve never been more sure in my life… everything’s going to be okay.
Reality came crashing back almost immediately. New song launch, livestream, a flight to Country B, a collaboration, a fashion show…
In the car to the airport, Bo Qin suddenly asked, “Am I too busy?”
Xiao Zhu: “?”
Chen-jie handed him a folder. “This is your normal workload.”
“What’s this?” He flipped it. “Was I always this busy?”
“You’ve always been this busy,” she said, replying to an email. “Fashion brand wants you to attend the show.”
Bo Qin scanned it. “Can I skip?”
“You’re the brand ambassador. What do you think?” She looked at him. “Xiao Qin, you’re finally acting human. You used to think this was nothing.”
Bo Qin smiled and leaned back, eyes closed. He had a new single dropping and a livestream tomorrow, a flight the day after, the show after that...
And after that—he wouldn’t have time for anything.
He clicked his phone. Opened He Xizhou’s chat. Stared at it, then typed slowly:
“Ge, are you going back to Fengjiang tonight?”
No reply. Bo Qin waited almost two minutes, felt stupid, locked his phone, and reopened his laptop to compose. But he was totally unfocused.
He kept thinking, If He Xizhou isn’t going back to Fengjiang, what’s the point of me going either?
Then he started replaying that hug.
Frustrated, he slammed his laptop shut and checked his phone again.
Still no reply.
Why isn’t he answering? Does CEO life keep you that busy?
…Actually, yeah. Probably.
From the front, Chen-jie asked, “Hotel tonight or studio?”
“Dunno. Haven’t decided.”
“Li Qingyang asked to rehearse choreography tonight—can you?”
Bo Qin sighed. “Totally forgot.”
He rubbed his temples, about to agree, when his phone buzzed.
He immediately checked it.
He Xizhou: “Yeah.”
Bo Qin smiled. Just about to say “I’ll go too,” when—
He Xizhou: “Wanna go together?”
He hadn’t even opened the keyboard yet when—
He Xizhou: “I’ll pick you up at the studio?”
Holy shit, Bo Qin thought. He Xizhou really knows how to play the game.
He immediately bailed on rehearsal. “Not tonight. We’ll do it tomorrow.”
“But you fly to Country B tomorrow?”
“It’s at 8:30 p.m. I’ll have time.”
He rummaged through his sticker packs to find a cute one, muttering, “Jie, Zhu—do you guys have any cute stickers?”
Zhu: “??”
Chen-jie: “??”
Zhu said, “Who are you chatting with?! Ge, don’t tell me you’re in love!”
Chen-jie calmly pulled out her phone. “Anyone can fall in love. Your ge? Unlikely.” She added, “I sent you some. If they’re not it, go check the sticker store.”
Bo Qin guiltily rubbed his nose.
The ones she sent were all pink floppy-eared bunnies. He thought they were too cutesy. Eventually, he found a chick series—sassy and cute—perfect for his vibe. He sent He Xizhou one with a chick making a heart.
Seconds later, He Xizhou replied with a bunny blushing, hiding behind its floppy ears with pink bubbles floating behind it.
Bo Qin’s phone slipped from his hands.
He curled into a ball, face buried in his arms, Jesus, he’s so freakin’ cute, I’m gonna die—
Author’s Note:
When Bo Qin was picking stickers:
Bo Qin: “…Isn’t this kinda girly?”
When He Xizhou sent a sticker:
Bo Qin: AHHHHHH SO CUTE IM GONNA DIEEEEE
Comments
Post a Comment