#They've got enough generational wealth to do it 😂

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Life Is Short, Do Art

MXTX Reverse Trope Fest - Day 10

College Dropout AU

Lan Xichen study - AO3

Inspired by my very real post-graduation goal of founding a ceramics co-op with some friends and going out to live in the countryside with some other friends.

Lan Xichen has never been accustomed to being a disappointment before. He’s still not, despite the fact that he’s decided to become one. It makes his hands shake and his breathing come too harsh and fast. No one in his family knows what he’s done yet - one of the many benefits of going to a university that his uncle does not run nor guest lecture at. He had thought briefly of telling Wangji his plans, but his brother is so…straight-laced. Despite Lan Xichen’s gentle prodding, his brother has never unbent enough to break the rules, to see how far Uncle’s rigidity will actually bend and sway before he breaks. It’s further than one would think, Lan Xichen knows that from experience.

He’s pretty sure it won’t bend far enough to accommodate this.

He packs the last of his boxes into the modest station-wagon he’d bought off a friend with the money he was supposed to spend on his accommodation for next semester. He gets in, checks his mirrors, fastens his seatbelt.

And leaves university behind.

Lan Xichen exhales as he crosses from the parking lot out onto the main drag in front of campus, and he studiously avoids looking at the imposing facade of it as he drives away. His white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel only eases up when he can’t see the rooftops in his rearview mirror anymore, and he’s suddenly struck by the freedom of the road ahead, the simplicity of existing in the middle of the day amongst the rest of society out enjoying the sunny afternoon. No classes to hurry to, no tests to study for, no professors breathing down his neck to ensure he’s living up to the Lan reputation (because that’s inescapable on the west coast no matter how far he leaves Uncle behind).

It’s an illicit thrill the likes of which he’s been microdosing on for his entire life with his little half-truths, his minor mischiefs, his rule-bending that falls just short of breaking. This much of it all at once is downright heady, and with a grin he can’t quite suppress he turns and takes a road that will lead him to the ocean. The afternoon is warm, as they usually are, and the sun is bright overhead, as it usually is, but for the first time in far too long he’s going to appreciate it by sitting outside, and taking his shoes off, and rolling the hems of his pants up so he can step in the warmth of the Pacific Ocean. So he can, for the first time he can remember, revel in the feeling of having absolutely no demands on his time.

The sand is soft and warm under the soles of his feet when he crosses the beach to the water. He smiles when he reaches the tideline where the sand is instead wet and firm, and for the hell of it he runs a few hundred yards down the surf. He knows he must look ridiculous - he isn’t dressed for running, and he’s running, not jogging - but this is California and the few patrons that dot the beach have no doubt seen weirder, probably even today. He stops when he feels like it, and he sits down where he feels like it, and he doesn’t even care that he’s going to be fishing sand out of the pockets of these trousers for at least the next few washes.

Lan Xichen watches the surf and he doesn’t think of anything much at all, his mind emptying so easily like it never does when he attempts to meditate. He supposes it’s likely never been a him problem, but rather a symptom of living a life in which there are always things to think about and never enough time to think about them in, even without setting aside an hour or two to attempt to be blissfully checked out.

He stays right there until the sun begins westering and his skin is sticky with salt spray, his long hair tangled and unruly from the wind. Even then the only reason he moves is to get up and walk back down the beach to where he’d parked so he can fish his phone out of the center console. It’s still mercifully quiet, with no new notifications - no one back home will know what he’s done for a while at least - but he has a call he needs to make.

Nie Mingjue picks up on the third ring, his gruff voice a warmth to add to that of the afternoon.

“Hey Xichen, what’s up?”

“I did it.”

The silence from the other end of the line is heavy and then there’s the clank of a knife being set down on a countertop.

“Oh, are you cooking dinner? I apologize, this was a bad time to call-”

“It’s never a bad time to call and did you just say what I think you did? You did it? You left?”

“I left.” He’s grinning as he says it, and before Nie Mingjue even responds he knows his best friend is smiling just as widely.

“Well fuck me!! I never thought I’d see the day. When are you coming out here, then? Should I cook for four?”

“Oh, is A-Yao there as well?”

“Yep, just got back this afternoon. A-Sang snagged him for a ‘tea-spilling’ session, apparently, but he’s here. Come over for dinner, we can all celebrate. And…I mean not just for dinner. Come stay as long as you want, you know there’s always room for you here.”

Lan Xichen breathes out a happy sigh and closes his eyes against the early evening breeze. “I couldn’t have done this without you, you know,” he says, feeling oddly weightless. “If you hadn’t done it first I don’t think -”

“I know,” Nie Mingjue cuts him off, but it’s gentle and warm in his ear, the audible version of one of Nie Mingjue’s bear hugs. “And A-Yao will be next, mark my words. We all deserve the chance to find what it is we want. We can talk about what you want to do next when you get here if you want, or we can do nothing at all. But you’re free to do anything from now on.”

“Dinner tonight sounds great,” Lan Xichen hums. “We’ll figure it out as we go from there?”

“Sounds good. I’ll let the others know you’re on your way, drive safely.”

Lan Xichen agrees and says his goodbyes, gets in his car, takes the Pacific Highway as far south as he can before he has to turn east to head out towards Nie Mingjue’s place out in the desert. Off-grid and nigh-on untraceable by conventional methods, it’s the perfect place for him to hang out and relax for a bit while he decides the direction he’s going to go in next. It’s terrifying and exhilarating and he knows that the shit’s going to hit the fan at some point - it did for Nie Mingjue when he dropped out of his program to pursue life as an artist, and he knows it’s not always going to be happiness and roses to join him - but that’s a problem for the future.

For tonight, he’s driving with the windows down and the wind in his hair carrying the scent of sand and the ocean, and he’s as free as he’s ever been in his entire life. He knows when to cherish the moment and put the worries for the future aside for long enough to sink into the bliss of it.