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Dec 1, 2023

ranwan bakingAU

mr started baking to center himself, to find something to do on a weekend night instead of drink, hook up, or pick fights. Surprisingly, it works. And he's good at it. His aunt gives him the idea to post photos online, which soon turn to videos. They do moderately well and mr feels less like he wants to fight the whole world. He creates moon cakes shaped like little white cats instead.

That's how cwn finds him. The chubby white cats, with pink ears, whiskers, and everything, is mr's most popular video so far. cwn catches it recommended by a coworker in the group chat that really should be for work discussions. cwn doesn't spend much time there, unable to connect with these other work-from-home individuals scattered across the country. He knows their names but not much else.

On another lonely night in an endless string of lonely nights, cwn watches the video. No one's around to judge him, a full grown man, from indulging in something unavoidably cute anyway.

He hears the soft music, sees the baker's dimpled smile and big hands expertly molding and decorating the cutest little cats. He's drawn in by the voice, soothing, rich, inviting. The warm glow of his kitchen.

cwn blows through all of his other videos by the next week. At the end of his work day, he curls up in bed and watches them with a hot cup of tea or a glass of wine. A part of him recognizes how foolish this all is. To look forward to a 20 min glorified instructional video. But something about mr--he learned his name from the enthusiastic comments--puts him at ease. For a short while, watching mr knead dough or paint tiny pink flowers on a cake, his isolated life feels less burdensome. When mr tells a joke, unlike the rapid fire group chat, cwn feels included. He smiles back. He even laughs softly to himself.

The time mr accidentally set the hand mixer too high and flour went everywhere, mr laughing openly and fully at himself, cwn joined in. Loud and unrestrained and felt with his whole body.

He still lived and worked alone but it didn't feel like an empty existence anymore.

cwn looking at mr's immaculate kitchen day in day out and starts to grow self-conscious of the clutter surrounding him on all sides. Now he knows mr can't see it but he keeps picturing him walking through the front door and the appalled look on his face.

So each day off, he harnesses that shame and tidies up a few items. Only a thing here or there, really, he doesn't have the energy for a big project. But over the months it adds up. And he actually used the cleaning products he ordered when he moved in.

It's. Not a great success. Plenty of trial and error and truly embarrassing search results (how to clean a shower wall). He still takes pride in being able to see his bedroom floor. To walk to bed without taking the memorized safety route.

And he starts taking care of himself in other ways too. Mr mentioned walking his dog and getting inspiration by the flowering trees in the park for a new design. It gives cwn the courage to walk around the neighborhood. For a short while. Covered head to toe despite the balmy weather. A lady with a dog walks by and she smiles at him. She can't see his face because of the mask so he nods back.

He had a pleasant interaction? With another person? That didn't happen behind a computer screen?

The unexpected high of that momentary interaction carries him along to walk a bit further than he intended. An hour later he gets back home, not sore cause he works out regularly at home, but feeling exhausted. In a good way.

When he turns on his favorite set of old videos, on the days mr doesn't release a new video, he idly wonders if mr would be proud of him for taking this great big step.

cwn had been living removed from society since he was a kid. He and his father lived secluded on a mountain all of his childhood. Honestly, he'd still be there if he didn't decide to set out on his own at 17, leaving the only family he had behind for good.

But the real world proved to be too much. He didn't know how to interact with others. And they took advantage of his inexperience. Slowly he withdrew into himself, appearing cold and aloof. Then he withdrew completely from the world again, retreating to an apartment he never left. Modern technology provided everything he needed.

The abundance of delivery boxes strewn across the apartment, that he kept meaning to take care of, were a testament to that. He stares at the stack of broken down cardboard, ready to be used or thrown away, and he feels that weird swell of pride again.

The next day, he downloads a step counter on his phone and goes for another walk after work. The weather's grown a bit chillier so he doesn't get as many odd looks. If it weren't for that lady being polite yesterday, he would have aborted mission and retreated back to the safety of his apartment.

He sees her again. She smiles again. cwn nods back. Her dog sniffs his leg curiously, its little tail wagging.

"He doesn't bite," the lady says, still smiling.

Oh. That must be a social cue to touch it. cwn kneels to reach, the dog is small and his legs are pretty long. Before he even makes contact the dog lifts its head and does it for him, tail wagging so fast the little nub might fall off. cwn gives it precisely three awkward pats then straightens, nodding at the woman who still regarded him with a friendly smile.

That night he watches the video where mr makes cookies that look somewhat similar to the little dog.

He contemplates getting a dog but he's only just now learning to take care of himself. It's too soon to bring another living creature into the mix.

mr has a favorite commenter. They came in with the influx of watchers after his bunny mooncake video.

It wasn't anything special. Compared to all the other comments filled with screams and excessive emojis, it was very plain:

"These are cute, thank you for sharing."

Not even an exclamation point at the end. Just a period.

mr chuckled to himself at the time, thinking it was some grandma who didn't know how to use the site. They had the default icon and a simple username, supporting his theory.

Still, he appreciated it.

These videos meant more to him than he let on to his family. He felt lost as the years since his mother's death dragged on. He had this rage and bitterness brewing inside him with nowhere to go.

His aunt and uncle, the kind people that gave him a home, treated him as their own when they had no real obligation to do so, they tried hard to help him deal with it. To reconcile the injustice weighing heavy on his chest. That the world could let a young woman die as if her life meant nothing.

But he didn't make it easy for them.

"This has to stop a-ran," his uncle said as he drove mr home from the police station. The tired frustration in his voice, like he was at the end of his rope, was a cold bucket of water over mr's head.

He felt ashamed. And scared. Scurrying off to his room the moment they came home and not leaving all the next day.

They've had enough. They're going to kick me out.

These thoughts ran through his head as he tried for the first time in ages, overwhelmed by fear and a vicious hangover.

That night, his aunt let herself in and turned on the light. She placed a tray of food on the nightstand, patted mr's back, curled up and turned away.

As she left the room she simply said "we'll talk in the morning."

It wasn't a dismissal or a reprimand but a reassurance. In her own way she told him 'you still have a home here.'

He swore never to get in trouble again. But that didn't solve all the aimless aggression crawling under his skin almost constantly.

A few weeks later his aunt suggested baking and the rest just seemed to fall into place.

He was more surprised than anyone it worked. A big guy like him? Making little pastries and unflinchingly cute things? But he enjoyed it.

He was good at it. Even more important, it helped.

He created, did something productive, focused his restless energy into a task that made him and others happy.

Like user cwn3779.

"You've done an excellent job."

"They turned out great."

"Very good job. I look forward to next week's video."

There was a blunt sincerity to these unadorned comments. The simple yet rigid praise made him smile.

While the other viewers playfully teased him for coating himself in flour after an admittedly silly mistake, cwn3779 said:

"Thank you for the laugh. I needed it."

He reread the comment multiple times that day.

He didn't know this person or their situation, the two of them perfect strangers, but he found a weird comfort in knowing he gave this to them.

It wasn't that long ago all his laughs were hollow, an act, hiding the deep chasm of resentment and despair waiting for him to fall in.

It probably wasn't that serious. They had a bad day at work and needed to chase away a bad mood.

Still. He made their life a bit better. And in turn mr felt better. Honestly.

He noticed their comments, while not enthusiastic, were mildly wordier on his animal shaped and floral decoration videos.

So being perceptive and attentive to his audience, he made sure to add at least one every month.

Why not? He enjoyed doing them and if it made cwn3- his viewers happy, it was worth coming up with ideas.

"I bet it's a sex thing," his cousin xm remarked as he caught mr smiling at his phone. "Some old pervert with a kink."

mr snorted, giving him a dubious look.

"You know about kinks now? Last time you thought cbt stood for 'closed beta testing'."

xm's entire face explodes in bright red.

"I still think you made that up! Who would want-- yugh!" He can't even finish around his disgust and embarrassment.

Despite his occasional comments, xm was supportive in his own way. He went on a rant about the poor quality of his original videos and gave him pointers disguised as nitpicking. And for mr's birthday a year later he received a far too expensive camera that xm loudly insisted he had nothing to do with though mr didn't ask. He sent mr 'dumb' cutesy animal memes to 'mock' him and not at all for inspiration.

xm was also the one mr called when he was in a knife fight that went real bad for him. The one who took him to the hospital and berated him with a such a pale face you'd think he’d been stabbed.

The one who punched his shoulder after he was stitched up then hugged him too tightly, cursing to hide the strain in his voice.

"You do this again I'll fucking kill you myself."

For once, xm didn't tell his parents. & mr finally understood this spoiled brat cared about him too.

That was 3 years ago.

Now, mr avoids the swipe xm directs at his head for laughing and nudges him back with his foot. He swiftly dodges the return kick.

"Okay, okay," mr says, difficult from how much he's laughing. xm's face had only gotten redder as he failed to land a single hit and mr's continued teasing. "Are you going to help me set up the new lights you just 'happened to find' or what?"

"I told you a friend was getting rid of them," xm snapped defensively.

"Right when one of my old lights broke. Fate sure does smile on me."

"What's this one about anyway?"

"Peacock macrons," mr answers nonchalantly, retrieving a box full of dyes.

"Why are you making those?"

"No reason." mr gives him a look that's not quite a smirk but enough to make xm narrow his eyes. They fly open the next second as mr continues, "And it's not 'me', it's 'us'. Mengmeng will be my special guest today."

"WHAT!?"

cwn stares at the title of this week's video for a full minute.

"Peacock Macarons with Special Guest"

Special Guest.

His finger hovers over the link another minute before he actually starts watching.

Sure enough, standing beside mr, stiff and making awkward eye contact with the camera, is another person. He's about the same age, but shorter and slimmer, made very evident by how his borrowed apron hangs off him instead of tightly hugging his chest, straining a bit with each motion, like mr's. Not that cwn notices these things.

An intense spike of jealousy hits cwn. He's used to sharing mr with thousands of viewers but they're all in the same situation, trapped behind a screen watching from afar. This person stood almost shoulder to shoulder with mr, his admittedly cute but stiff face stuck somewhere between exaggerated smile and very much not wanting to be there.

cwn frowns. It deepens each time mr says 'we' instead of 'I'. He doesn't even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed at how the very concept angers him.

Then mr turns to the person beside him who looks ready to bolt at any second--angering cwn further for not treasuring the opportunity he's been given--and introduces him as his cousin.

His cousin.

cwn's possessiveness deflates at those two words. He's left feeling very foolish, sinking into the couch, ears pink. But he smiles too.

It's just his cousin.

The rest of the video clears away his unsettling reaction and puts him in that relaxed headspace he craves.

mr orders xm, the guest's name, to hand him items with a quirk to his smile, his dimples deeper on one side. The purple taint to his eyes, intensified by the new lights--cwn notices the change- dancing with an extra bit of something. Amusement?

For his part, xm starts to react, to furrow his brows and part his lips then seems to remember he's on camera, eyes darting back to it, and he plasters a painful looking grin on his face. He does as he's told.

The initial jealously aside, it's nice to see mr with family. On a Q&A video, a viewer asked if his mom taught him how to bake so well. cwn caught the flicker in mr's eyes, the momentary dulling of his charming smile.

The way his warm, inviting voice falters, only for a few words, as he answers: "No, she didn't. I'm completely self taught."

cwn speculated what it meant for days. He worried mr didn't have any family. His heart ached to think mr was in the same situation as him.

But it also built another layer to the connection he felt with mr. They possibly both grew up without a mom, lived now without a family.

xm's presence shattered that illusion. Instead of feeling put at a distance from mr, he's relieved. No one should be alone.

cwn has never been great at deciphering human interactions but even he can tell beneath the teasing and sideways glares, they're comfortable with each other.

Maybe he does feel a bit lonelier. And a smidge jealous this person gets to be with mr more often than his weekly videos.

But he made mr happy. Considering all the unexpected joy mr's brought to his life, he's grateful for that.

After the video, he quickly types and retypes a comment, trying to find the right words to express himself.

It's early and the sun has yet to set so cwn decides to go for a walk.

Bundled in his jacket, over a sweater, a scarf fit snuggly around his neck and wearing a ratty set of hat and gloves, with a white mask to complete the outfit, he strolls leisurely about the neighborhood.

Well, he strolls leisurely on a set path circling his neighborhood.

Halfway through his regular circuit, he hears a familiar excited bark. But the one leading the dog is decidedly unfamiliar. The little dog that barely reaches the middle of cwn's calves tugs on its leash making a beeline right for him.

The man on the other end is bearded, middle aged, and grinning broadly at him.

"Who are you?" cwn demands before thinking.

The man just tightens the leash, keeping the little black dog with a reddish-brown mark on its forehead from jumping all over cwn's white pants.

"So you're bingpup's new friend?" The man asks back, voice loud and jovial, completely unfazed by the suspicious death glare pinned on him.

"Bingpup?" cwn echoes slowly, despite himself.

The man gestures at the small ball of black fur hopping in place, desperately trying to get closer.

"He's usually indifferent to strangers so you must be the new friend my wife talked about."

Ah. Wife. Which made him the husband. Not a flagrant dognapper.

cwn unclenches the fists he fully prepared to clock this strange man with a second ago.

The little dog whines at being so cruelly kept at bay. cwn kneels down and gives it the precise count of six head pats; an upgrade from the initial 3. They had been running into each other long enough it seemed appropriate.

The dog whines again as he pulls his hand away. Hesitating for a moment, hand held still in the air, cwn gives it one more pat. Its little tail wags so hard and fast its whole body shakes with the motion, tongue lolling out and panting happily.

"Easy, you're going to vibrate right off your leash," the man says. He focuses his overtly friendly grin on cwn again. "My wife's too shy to make introductions. Let me: Xue Zhengyong."

He waits, face open and radiating a disarming geniality, for cwn to respond.

"Chu Wanning," he finally says, as if there's some doubt about that.

"Nice to put a face to the name."

cwn just nods.

The man makes genuine inquires about where he lived and what he did, wrangling more information out of him in the short conversation than his wife ever did in the 2 months of their routine but brief meetings.

By the end he felt overwhelmed and exhausted, like that first walk, even if xzy did most of the talking. He arrives home with a buzzing head, a name, and armful of fruit.

"No, please, take them! My wife says I buy too many anyway," xzy insisted as cwn firmly tried to return the bag thrust into his arms, laughing, loud and hearty. It shook his whole frame just like the dog wagging its tail.

This man was a bit coarse and forward.

...cwn liked him.

On a lazy afternoon, mr and xm sit sprawled on the couch, empty bowls on the table. Aunt and uncle were visiting friends in another city or neither of them would dare eating anywhere except the kitchen.

mr came over from his apartment to keep xm company under the guise of annoying him. And to make sure he ate something other than takeout for the whole week his parents would be gone. Both for his sake and his mother's beloved kitchen.

As they digest mr's expertly prepared lunch, mr checks his notifications while xm plays a noisy mobile game.

"Huh."

"What?" xm asks, suspicious already, not breaking eye contact with his game.

That's fair. mr did spend most of the morning teasing xm about the blonde guy obviously flirting with him at the store.

Unperturbed by his cousin's prickly response, he remarks casually, "Oh nothing. It just looks like you're appealing to blondes and old perverts."

"What nonsense are you spouting now?" xm shouts, nearly dropping his phone. If the drawn out, high-pitched scream emanating from his phone is any indication, he didn't need to worry about paying attention anymore.

mr shows him cwn3779's comment.

xm's face does a funny thing of switching from outraged to flustered several times, mouth flapping open and closed. He catches mr's smug grin and bats the phone away, settling on pissed off but red-faced.

"Don't get me involved in your weird sex thing!" He snaps, slumping back into position on the couch, nose particularly pressed against his phone screen. "And I told you that asshole was getting on my nerves, nothing else!"

"More like trying to get into your pants," mr says, retrieving the empty bowls. They'd stay there until right before his aunt came home if he left it to xm.

The comment earns him a horrified and disgusted noise, xm abandoning his phone to glare daggers at mr's back.

"Honestly, you could do much worse," mr throws over his shoulder on the way to the kitchen.

A couch cushion narrowly misses hitting him in the head. His retreating howl of laughter is almost drowned out by xm's litany of curses, chasing after him armed with another cushion.

mr really thought that'd be the end of it. Convincing xm to be in one video since he was already there, watching him squirm under those new lights he installed. He gets to share his hobby and prank xm a little. A temporary but satisfying win-win.

Imagine his surprise when xm shows up at his door a week later with an idea.

"Hello Mengmeng. Miss me already?"

"Do you think you can make this?" xm says instead of acknowledging his greeting or the obvious taunt. He rapidly unlocks his phone and shoves it into mr's face.

Humoring him, mr grabs his wrist to hold the phone steady enough to read it clearly.

It's a photo of two translucent, pink speckled fish 'swimming' on a blue plate. The caption reads: 'koi fish osmanthus flower jelly with rose lychee filling'.

mr cocks an eyebrow, regarding his cousin with a bemused look as he moves the phone away from his face.

"Where did this come from all of a sudden? Did you realize that blonde guy is way out of your league and you're thinking of ways to impress him?"

"Who wants to impress him?" xm shot back, wrinkling his nose disgustedly. "Stop bringing him up! Can you do it or not?"

"Sure. Mengmeng will have to be my helper again though," mr coos, his lips curling knowingly.

xm makes a big show of rolling his eyes, acting put upon, but he practically shoves mr aside as he walks through the door muttering "fine whatever" and heads straight towards the kitchen.

A shade of something softer touches mr's expression as he closes the door.

"Don't forget your apron Mengmeng," he calls sweetly to the kitchen.

"Fuck you," is the toothless response he gets back.

mr's smile grows, standing there a moment longer before joining xm.

xm and mr stand side by side, examining the fruits of their labor: a school of pink-speckled fish. xm pokes at one. He's been doing it for a while, jabbing each fish in turn, testing how they jiggle, fascinated by it.

"These are..." his voice trails off.

"Osmanthus jelly fish - as requested."

mr pats xm on the back and begins to clean up.

He does not expect or receive an offer to help.

"Without a mold, this is the best you're gonna get to show off to blonde boy."

"Shut up," xm lobs at him on reflex, eyes still glued to the plate. He grabs the rim and shakes all of them at once. It's like a real school of fish swimming through the water.

The fish wriggle wildly in place.

"You're right. Genius might be a better word."

"Asshole works better," xm retorts, angrily untying his apron he forgot to take off, too distracted by the fish.

"Before you storm out of here in a huff"-xm threatens to shove the washcloth down his throat to keep him from saying such stupid things but mr ignores it-"let me pack a few of these guys for you take."

Preemptively, xm fumes, "I am not giving them to Mei Hanxue!"

"Oh? Blonde guy has a name now?"

Caught out, xm clamps his mouth shut. He struggles to recover.

"Every- Everyone has a name!"

"Yeah but you remembered it."

"Because he's so annoying. Just like you!" xm tosses the apron to the ground. mr grabs him by the arm as he really does go to storm off.

"Okay, okay. It's not for that guy, I wasn't even going to mention him."

xm jerks free, the look on his face highly dubious.

"What I was going to say was, bring some home for aunt and uncle."

'And you too, silly Mengmeng.' He keeps that part to himself.

"Oh." xm stares at the plate then straightens a little, chin raised. "Right. I should show them my great idea."

"And if you want to save a few for ~Mei Hanxue~, I won't mind."

"Mo Ran!"

cwn is a creature of habit. Routines rule his life.

It's been this way since he lived in the mostly abandoned temple with his father. As much as he tried to put that behind him, venturing into the "unsightly" world his father did his best to shelter him from, he fell back on routines to cope with how overwhelming and out of place he felt.

When his routines are disrupted, he grows irritable and discomforted. Lost.

The daily walks were a part of his routine now. So were his brief interactions with the dog and its owners. When a week went by and he didn't see either of them, the very forward man or his reserved but friendly wife, walking their energetic dog, he felt an irrational sense of concern. Then an increasing sense of rejection.

He berates himself for foolishly reading too much into things.

Their conversations only lasted about 10 minutes on average. They were being polite, neighborly, nothing more.

At least he still has mr's videos to look forward to.

After day 8 of lingering awkwardly at their usual meeting place and pretending he isn't waiting for them only to trudge off disappointed, cwn decides to take a break. He stays locked inside his apartment for 3 days, nothing really when you consider the long stretches of time he'd spend indoors in the past. Before mr and this strange new turn his life was taking.

He settles on the couch, situated perfectly with the laptop on his lap and a coffee mug of Wu Liang Ye. His single proper glass is dirty. Recent events had sapped his productivity. Outside of work, he couldn't muster the energy to clean.

Sipping from the cat shaped mug he bought on a impulse because it reminded him of the cat mooncakes that introduced him to mr's account, he hits play on the newest video: Replicating osmanthus flower jelly koi fish without a recipe.

The thumbnail promises another stunning result. And mr, as always, delivers.

He lays the school of translucent fish on a blue plate, like the original photo he shared (with the owner's permission he stresses). Under the bright lights they shine and accentuate the flecks of pink mr painstakingly injected along their spines.

"What do you think?" mr asks to the camera, dimples showing. "Watch this."

cwn obediently peels his eyes away from mr's captivating smile to the plate. His eyes widen as mr gently shakes the plate and the little fish comes alive.

"My cousin gave me this idea. Make sure to thank him in the comments and I'll be sure to show him."

mr thanks everyone for watching and jiggles the fish one more time before the video ends.

cwn restarts it immediately. He sits there rewatching the same video, draining and refilling his alcohol, 3 times in a row.

Perhaps a bit tipsier than he thinks he is, cwn comments: "Please share my appreciation with your cousin for the idea and yourself for this video. I watched many times. It helped."

He closes his laptop, forcing himself to commit to what he's done, and retreats to the bedroom as if he can escape it in his sleep.

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