Minseok scoffed. "You wanted to become plastic, and you DID."

"I did it because of YOUR little grade school vendetta!"

"I never forced you to do anything; it was just a joke!" Minseok crossed his arms over his chest. "But you ran with it down to the endzone and out of the stadium."

Chanyeol whistled and shaded his eyes with his hand, mimicking a spectator watching a spectacular play. Dropping his hand, he looked guarded and vaguely sick [disappointed, even], an expression Lu Han recognised from their discussions about Kyungsoo and the Plastics. Chanyeol didn't like them because they hurt Minseok. Now, he didn't like Lu Han, because he did the same thing, only much worse. "You're like a dildo, man. Cold and filled with gross PCP toxins that mess up your insides."

". . .That's BPA, Chanyeol."

"Whatever! It's still gross!" he thrust a finger in Lu Han's direction. "You're gross."

Minseok lightly smacked his arm with the back of his hand, quietly calling him off. "You're wasting all your hot air, Chanyeol. . . Congratulations, Lu Han: You're Plastic. Cold, hard plastic. Who'd've thought all it took was a change of clothes and some slutty guy's attention?"

"Minseok, that's not what--"

"I really don't care what you do or don't think. I have no time for plastic people and their synthetic, fake feelings."

He tugged Chanyeol's sleeve. "Let's go home. I feel like noodles." He didn't look at Lu Han. It was as if he wasn't there at all.

"You always feel like noodles," Chanyeol replied, feeling up Minseok's bicep as they walked. "You're too skinny."

"Like you're one to talk; you're a talking fishbone!"

Lu Han watched his [ex?] friends banter and amble away, apparently wholly intent on ignoring his existence. And it hurt. If he hadn't been standing in front of the school, he probably would have cried until he threw up, which was a new feeling becoming rapidly more familiar.


Lu Han looked over his shoulder at Yixing, standing a polite couple of feet away.

"You coming with us?"

"Uh. . ." Minseok and Chanyeol were waiting at the bus stop. He could still catch up to them and apologise [again].

A car horn honked.

Jongdae sat on the door of Kyungsoo's car, hanging out of the window and drumming his hands on the roof. "C'mon, losers! We're going shopping!"

Lu Han glanced back at Yixing, who's smile hadn't changed, and shrugged. "Yeah; I'm coming." He followed Yixing and climbed into the back seat beside him.

Kyungsoo glared into his rearview and slammed the car into drive. "Buckle up, bitches. My dad won't pay for another ticket." As they peeled out of the parking lot, Lu Han was pretty sure any traffic tickets Kyungsoo garnered would come from speeding and not a lack of seat belts.

They sped passed the bus stop, hitting a convenient puddle at 72 kmh and washing the side of the glass partition with brown water and leaves. They were gone before anyone waiting there could yell their fury, but Lu Han was sure he saw someone tall raise both middle fingers in a quiet salute.

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