Dyed in Your Color

The Pretty Man

It all started with a wig.

“Hey, guys, look!” someone shouted.

Almost everyone in the large lecture hall heard this shout, and many glanced over in curiosity. They saw a fellow student holding up a black object. At first it appeared to be a length of fabric because of the way it shimmered and swayed in the air. Upon further inspection, however, the object turned out to be a wig.

Smiling pleasantly as he held it up, the student asked, “Anyone know who left it here? It was just under the next seat.”

Everyone looked at each other, but no one answered. One of the student’s close companions made a grab for the wig. “Xian, let me have a look.”

The student named Xian let his friend take it without much issue. Like most of the class, he was beginning to lose interest in it after seeing that no one had made ownership claims.

After a moment of watching his friend Will inspecting the wig in fascination, Xian began to turn away and face forward once more to wait for the professor to arrive. All of a sudden, something black and stringy blocked his view.

“What the…?” he said. At the same time, he heard Will’s hysterical laughter.

“Hahaha! Xian, look at you! You were this pretty—who could ever have guessed?”

At this latest commotion, many students in the lecture hall looked over once more. Xian was still too shocked and confused over what was happening to do anything more than stare at Will.

Meanwhile, Will had taken this brief chance to fix the wig more securely over Xian’s head and arrange it for maximum effect. Those who saw this effect were stunned speechless for a moment.

“Wow…” one of the girls finally said. “Is that really Xian Moon?”

“Damn!” another girl chimed in. “He looks so much better than we do!”

A male classmate who was on friendly terms with Xian wolf-whistled. “I might even fall for you at this rate!” he said with a laugh that clearly indicated he was joking. “How will you take responsibility then?”

While all of these reactions were being thrown their way, Will was by Xian’s side, on the verge of death because of how hard he was laughing. The sound of his chokes finally snapped Xian out of his daze.

“Will Crafter, you—!” he began in quite an angry tone, his expression one of extreme offense.

However, right before every onlooker’s eyes, his expression suddenly changed. The sharpness in his large, single-lidded eyes disappeared, along with the blazing anger. In their place was a softness that could only be described as tender and graceful, and there was a twinkle in his eyes that could easily take one’s breath away.

Then, in a quiet and gentle voice that was still loud enough for others nearby to hear, he asked, “You really think I’m pretty?”

There followed a couple of seconds of silence. Then…

“Whoa!!!”

“Yes! You’re really pretty! You’re my new goddess!”

“May I start calling you Big Sis?!!”

“Xian, I’ll treat you to lunch! Let me take your pic!”

Xian smiled even wider and waved shyly, generally acting all cute and charming, to everyone’s delight.

At the same time, his other hand had reached for Will’s neck so that he could push down and squash the perpetrator’s face on the desk. Will was soon tapping the wood and calling uncle, but Xian ignored his so-called friend’s pleas.

The commotion over Xian’s surprising good looks when he was donning a wig would have gone on, and it even showed signs of escalating, if not for the arrival of the professor, signaling the start of the class.

One by one, Xian’s new fans turned to the front, though some of the girls still stole glances at him now and again, their happy expressions somewhat indicating that they still couldn’t get enough of what they’d discovered. When Xian took the wig off at long last, they all looked dejected.

“Wish I’d taken a picture,” he overheard one girl say.

Under his breath, he laughed in resignation. “Ha… haha…”

'This will get me a girlfriend for sure,' he thought. 'Many, in fact. Just… not the kind of "girlfriend" I was hoping for.'

Grumbling to himself and completely ignoring Will, who was also grumbling at him while rubbing his sore face, Xian folded the wig as neatly as he could and stuffed it in his bag.

“You like it so much you’re gonna steal it?” Will accused, having not yet learned his lesson.

Without looking at him, Xian answered, “I’m taking it to the Lost-and-Found. Dumbass.”

Unknown to anyone, from the beginning of the wig episode to the end, there was someone in the class who had been paying close attention but showing no reaction. He was seated farther down the escalating row of seats and to the extreme right. Even if someone did happen to see him looking, his intent yet impassive gaze would have given nothing away.

“Lance Hill,” called the professor, who was still taking attendance.

Never drawing his eyes away from the pretty man, the quiet observer answered, “I am here.”

***

The rest of the morning went on without much incident, and it was soon noontime.

Xian had separated from Will after the class they shared had ended, but not before reluctantly agreeing to meet with him again for lunch. He attended another class right after.

Because no one else he was close with took this class, he was alone throughout it, as had been the case since the beginning of the semester. When this class also ended, he went to the Student Affairs Office where the Lost-and-Found box was, deposited the lost wig there, then proceeded to the cafeteria.

He immediately went to the food counter to order his lunch and left carrying it in a tray. Despite how crowded it was in the cafeteria, Xian immediately spotted Will, who was already seated with their other companions.

Will and Connor Lee were bent over a phone on top of the table and were talking animatedly. Chase Rivers didn’t seem to be paying attention to them, preoccupied as he was with trying to start a conversation with Connor's sister, Ira, who kept answering his ice breakers in a curt manner.

When a point came that Ira refused to answer altogether because she was busy placing a side dish over her brother’s bowl of rice, urging him to hurry up and eat, Chase finally ran out of steam.

To vent out his frustration, he snapped at the other two men, “Can’t you guys just eat? What are you whispering about, anyway?”

Without waiting for an answer, Chase snatched the phone from the table and looked at the screen. For a time, the image that met his eyes didn’t register. It was just a picture of a girl, and though something about the girl’s face did seem suspiciously familiar to him, he didn’t see what the fuss was supposed to be about...