When he gets the phone call at four in the fucking morning, he nearly drops his phone. It wasn’t for the fact that it’s four in the morning (because let’s face it, it’s not like he’s keeping regular, humane hours any more) that surprised him. No, it was that it’s Rylee. Calling from jail.Chanyeol spends the first five minutes of their phone call convinced that it’s some sort of elaborate prank that she’s pulling. After all, they were constantly joking about landing in jail for the various shit they’d do if a) they were outlaws and b) they were actually capable of ending someone else’s life. But a joke’s still a joke, and this was one Rylee seemed determined to pull through. That is, until, an actual police officer informs Chanyeol that Rylee’s minutes are up, and would he like to come bail her out or was he going to get her a lawyer?He dresses every bit the suspicious hobo as he hobbles his way down to the station, hood drawn on tightly, hands shoved deep into his pocket. Because he’s not sure how much money he should bring to bail someone and because he didn’t have the presence of mind to ask the officer on the line, he empties his bank account and tucks the singular note in the depths of his usually empty wallet. When he sees Rylee, she’s all bruised up, hair sticking up in all directions of her head. His first instinct is to grab her to check if she’s okay, a flash of concern and anger all balled up into one. His second instinct is to laugh. And that’s what he does, practically bending over as he’s wracked with laughter. "Look what the cat dragged in," he tells her, once all the paperwork is done and they’re back out on the streets. Despite his words, the lightness in his tone, he sheds his hoodies so he can drape it over her. In response, she flips him the finger. "You should see the other guy," Rylee mumbles, her words sharp and hard and cold, tugging the hoodie closer around herself. "Even his mother wouldn’t recognise him.""You’re telling me you got into a fight with a guy. And won," Chanyeol questions disbelievingly. He’s equal parts amused and concerned at her drunken escapades, and makes a mental note that they should drink indoors next time."Winning would be an understatement," she replies, reaffirming once again how fucking terrifying she actually is for someone of such a small stature. "I pulverised him.”
