six

"I told you, she was just a colleague," Zhan's father's voice bellowed from the lounge. I sat on the third step from the bottom as I looked down at where Zhan was sitting, right on the last step. His forehead resting against the bannister stand, his blonde hair dishevelled.

From the earlier occurrence it had with his hands - when he'd run them through his locks obsessively from frustration. It was dark; the light emanating from the doorway, where his dad and mum were conversing and was the only thing keeping us from sitting in darkness.

My chest felt heavy as I recalled what Zhan had told me when he rang me up about an hour ago. I wasn't talking to him, for obvious reasons, but with the way his voice was shaking - straining to even push out the few words he spoke - I couldn't ignore him. I couldn't neglect the responsibilities of being a best friend. My conscience wouldn't let me

I raced straight over, finding him in his bedroom where he was sitting, hugging his knees. He won't admit it when he looks back at it, but there were visible streaks of tears running down his cheeks as he'd explained to me he'd caught his dad with another woman. Well, he was doing a lot more than just being with the woman, from what I heard. Zhan had told his mother, and when his dad returned home, that's when we found ourselves on the steps, listening in on the confrontation.

"Zhou, you know I would never do such a disgust-"

"And all the late nights at the office, were you with her?" Zhan's mum's voice cut his dad's off, their argument droning in the distance. I was thankful that Xuan and Cheng weren't around to hear it. But it killed me that Zhan was, out of all of them, Zhan was the one that's always hoped to continue having a happy family. I didn't want him to listen to it, so I asked him to go on a walk with me, but he refused.

I slid down the steps separating me and Zhan, stopping by his side, where I wrapped an arm around his shoulder. With his head hung low, he fell against me and I wrapped my arm around him tighter before sliding it into his hair and resting my cheek atop his head. His body shivered from the heavy breaths he was taking, trying to force the tears away - because he'd be damned if he'd let himself be weak.

"Come on," I whispered. "Let's go." I didn't give him a choice, grabbing his wrist in my grip and pulling him up. He barely seemed to have the strength or determination to stand, his body slouching against mine. I pulled him towards the door and, quietly, opened and shut it behind us. The air was cold and dark, with only a slight breeze to tinge our cheeks a pale red.

I could hear him sniffling into his sleeve as I walked us both clumsily down to the river that we liked to think of as our place. It was only a short walk away, down through a muddy field. We arrived at the small, grassy bridge that arched over a stream. The noise of the water flowing underneath us was calming. I perched him against the bridge's wall where I sat myself beside him and waited patiently until he felt like talking. I didn't have to wait long.

"I don't get it, Yibo," he began, wiping the tears away.

"This wasn't supposed to happen."

I know Zhan. He abruptly stood up, turning on me with a pure look of anger.

"No, you don't fucking know! You're fine, Yibo. Your parents are still fucking together!" He yelled, his face turning red and the veins on his forehead standing out.

"How could you possibly know what it's like?" He said through gritted teeth. I didn't react the way he wanted. He was just cruising for a fight that I wasn't about to give him. He soon realized and stuck with talking.

"Just- just seeing him with that... whore... just fucking made me sick." His face showed his feelings before he broke out in a surge of frustration and kicked his foot hard against the brick wall of the bridge.

I made a wise decision to stay silent.

"I can't believe he would do this. Everything was great, just fucking exceptional, and he had to go screw it up." He started kicking the wall again, and I had the urge to stop him, but I thought it was best to just let him work his anger out of his system. But kicking soon turned to punch; the ridged, sharp edges of the bricks cutting against the skin of his fists with every hit. I wasn't listening to the incoherent bursts of insults and curses aimed at his father's name as I grabbed either side of his arms and pushed him back up against the other side of the bridge wall; pinning him there, struggling against the shoves as he fought to calm down.

"Zhan, just fucking chill," my voice was loud and echoing across the area of fields that surrounded us. "It's okay, just calm down. You're bleeding.' He continued to ignore me. "Stop!" I resorted to shouting, shoving him harder against the wall, painfully. He ceased struggling and just stood there, his chest rising and falling heavily whilst he huffed out breaths of air that were wiped off in swirls of grey mist.

I dropped my hands to his wrists and raised them between us, examining the damage that was barely visible in the dim light, from the single street lamp that loomed over us by our side. The cuts were shallow, but his knuckles were beaten up pretty badly. He's always had a bit of an anger problem.

"Look at you, you're a fuckin' mess, Zhan."

"Thanks," he muttered, his voice so low I hardly heard it. My eyes flickered up to connect with him, and we held gazes in silence for a few moments.

"Yibo, please," he whispered, choking back the tears. It was vague, but I knew what he meant, and my heart mentally sunk in my chest.