The next few days were a blur. I kept myself busy—because I knew if I stayed still, the image of Phu kissing that woman would haunt me again and again. I kept talking to everyone, laughing even, but inside... I was empty. Numb. My mind was quiet, yet screaming.
It was the last day of the shoot. Everyone seemed relieved, smiling, packing up with ease. I waited, holding it in, until I saw James alone in the changing room. I stepped inside, my heart pounding.
"Can I ask you something?" I said quietly. He looked up.
"Why did you show me that?"
He put down the bottle of water in his hand and leaned back on the chair, looking at me with that unreadable gaze.
"I've never done this before either," he said. "But… I know you. I saw your picture once, during one of our boys' nights out. We were five best friends—me, Phu, and the rest. Phu showed us your photo. He said, 'This guy's almost falling for me. I'll make sure I hit the goal.'"
I stood there, frozen. My chest tightened.
"But when I looked at the picture," he continued, "I didn't see a game. I saw an innocent boy struggling to find his place. That's why I did it. That's all."
I smiled. A broken, quiet smile. "Thank you," I whispered.
I walked out calmly.
But as soon as I was alone, I rushed to the toilet. I locked the door, sat on the closed lid, and cried silently into my hands. The kind of cry that rips something from deep within your chest.
Tomorrow is the day.
The Day
The day I'll finally talk to Phu.
Today was the day I said we'd talk.
I didn't know exactly what I would say. My feelings were everywhere—anger, confusion, heartbreak… but above all, there was this dull, aching emptiness.
I texted him: "Can we meet?"
He replied almost immediately: "Will be there in 30 minutes."
"Okay." That was all I said. I sat still. Waiting, preparing… or at least trying to.
Thirty minutes felt like a heartbeat and a lifetime at the same time.
Then he arrived.
I opened the door. There he was—Phu, in a simple black tee and jeans, looking casual, like nothing had happened. He smiled faintly.
"Come in," I said softly.
He stepped in, and I pointed to the couch. "Have a seat."
He nodded and sat down.
I stood for a second, taking a deep breath. Then I sat across from him, keeping a small distance between us.
There was silence.
Today was the day. No more running. No more wondering. I needed answers, and he needed to face me.
He sat on the couch, looking at me—nervous, maybe, or confused. I couldn't tell.
"Why are you so quiet?" Phu finally asked, breaking the silence.
I looked him dead in the eye. "Do you have anything to tell me?"
He paused for a second, then nodded. "Yes… I like you."
I shook my head. "No. Not this. Not the easy answer."
He looked puzzled. "What do you mean?"
"I'm asking if there's anything else you want to tell me, Phu. Something you think I should know."
He looked at me, his brows furrowed. "No… not that I know of."
My heart dropped.
It wasn't just the lie—it was that he chose to lie. Even now. Even when I was handing him a chance.
I looked down, steadying myself. My chest felt heavy, but I forced myself to speak.
"I know this might sound like stalking… but who was that woman you were with at Lebua Skybar? Three days ago. The one you kissed?"
He froze.
His expression said it all—he knew I knew.
"Can you tell me, Phu?" I asked again, my voice quieter now, but firmer.
He hesitated. "It was just… a woman."
I narrowed my eyes. "No, Phu. Don't lie to me. I'm asking you because I deserve the truth."
He sighed and looked away. "She's… the woman I'm supposed to marry. My family's choice."
I blinked. "Wow." I gave a small, bitter laugh. "News to me. So tell me, what am I to you then?"
"Ian, you and her… you're different. You're my choice. She's theirs."
My stomach dropped.
"Really?" I said. "So what's your goal here, Phu? To use me until you're done and then toss me aside once you've fulfilled your duty?"
Phu's eyes widened. He looked like I had slapped him.
"Ian, no—don't say that. It's not like that."
"Then what is it like, Phu?" I snapped, my voice shaking. "Because from where I stand, it feels exactly like that. You get to kiss me, hold me, whisper things into my ears… and then go home and pretend to be someone else's fiancé?"
He stood up, frustrated, running a hand through his hair. "You don't understand. I didn't choose this. I was forced."
"But you chose to kiss her. You chose to hold her like that. And you didn't even tell me."
Silence fell.
He looked at me, and his voice softened. "I didn't want to lose you."
"Well, congratulations," I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. "You've already broken me instead."
He took a step forward. "Ian, please…"
I stepped back. "No."
Phu moved forward, his voice trembling. "It's not like that, Ian. Please, just listen to me—"
I couldn't hold it in anymore. My chest felt heavy, my breathing shallow. I broke.
"You know you're my first kiss, right?" My voice cracked, and the tears finally spilled. "You were my first hug… first guy I ever liked. But you—" I pointed at him, trembling, "you broke me, Phu. You broke something in me that I don't think I can fix again."
He didn't interrupt.
"This shit hurts," I whispered. "It really does. And I don't think I can bear it anymore. Please… let's end this before I lose more of myself."
Phu stood there, frozen. The guilt on his face was unbearable to look at.
He didn't try to touch me this time. He waited until my sobs turned into silence. Then, gently, he said:
"I'll give you today. I'll give you all the space you need. But tomorrow…" his voice trembled, "can we talk again? Please. Because if we stop now, it'll hurt you more. And me too."
I didn't respond.
I just sat down, hugging my knees as he quietly walked out the door.
This time, I didn't stop him.
This time, I needed to save myself first.
Phu stepped out of Ian's place, closing the door behind him with a soft click—but inside him, a storm was brewing.
His jaw clenched, and without hesitation, he pulled out his phone and dialed James.
James answered after a few rings. "Yo—"
"You m0therf#ck#r." Phu's voice was low, sharp, and deadly. "It was you, wasn't it? You told Ian."
There was a short pause. Then James laughed casually. "Cousin, come on… You never fall for anyone. Ian was just another one of your toys, yeah?"
Phu's hand curled into a fist by his side. "Listen carefully, James. This is the first and last time I'm saying this: if you ever go near Ian again, I swear I'll make you regret it."
The silence on the other end turned serious. James knew that tone. Phu's temper wasn't something to test.
"Alright, alright," James said, a little more grounded now. "I didn't know you were serious about him. My bad. Won't happen again."
Phu breathed out slowly, trying to calm his pounding heart.
"So what now?" James asked after a beat. "He dumped you?"
There was silence again before Phu answered, his voice heavy. "He's crying, James. He looked at me like I was the worst person alive… and maybe I am. But I can't— I can't watch him cry like that."
James went quiet. Even he didn't expect this much vulnerability from Phu.
"Bro… You're really messed up now." James said honestly. "You better talk to him. For real this time."
Phu didn't reply immediately.
Because deep down, he knew James was right.
He'd already lost Ian's trust.
But if he didn't act now, he might lose Ian forever.
At home.
Ian curled up on the couch, hugging a pillow to his chest. His tears had soaked the sleeve of his shirt, but they wouldn't stop. His phone trembled in his hand as he finally did the one thing he hadn't in days—he called his sister.
"Phi…?" Her voice was soft, familiar, comforting.
The moment he heard it, Ian broke down again.
"Nong…" he whispered between sobs. "It hurts. It hurts…"
Ian shared everything with her. His triumphs, his fears, the quiet thoughts he dared not voice to anyone else. She had always listened.
She stayed quiet, letting him cry.
Then, gently, "Phi, don't cry. Please… I know this hurts. But listen to me—people make mistakes. And I'm not siding with Phu, okay? But maybe… maybe give him a chance to speak. If he has nothing real to say, then walk away. But if you're this broken, if you're crying this much, that means you love him. And I don't think your heart will let this go that easily."
Ian sobbed harder. "I miss Mae. Nong, I miss Mae so much…"
His voice cracked with the weight of everything—his mother's absence, the betrayal, the confusion.
"This bastard…" he said between broken breaths. "This bastard made me like this, Nong. I didn't ask for this. I just wanted to be happy…"
His sister stayed quiet for a moment, then softly said, "Phi… love makes us stupid sometimes. But it also shows us what we truly want. Just don't lose yourself, okay? Whatever you decide tomorrow… just remember, we're here for you. Always."
Ian clutched the phone tighter and whispered, "Thank you, Nong…"
Outside the window, the sky was dark, but slowly—just barely—a sliver of morning light began to rise.
The air was heavy, even at 4 in the morning. The stillness outside only made the ache inside Ian feel louder.
He had barely slept. His heart was tired, but his mind wouldn't stop. Thoughts of Phu came and went like waves—sometimes angry, sometimes longing. He wanted to scream at him. Curse him. Shake him. But more than anything… he wanted answers. Real answers.
Thirsty from all the crying, Ian dragged himself to the kitchen and poured a glass of water. That's when he noticed his phone lit up.
3 unread messages.
They were from Phu.
"I'm outside."If you're angry, slap me. Yell at me. Do whatever you want. But please, Ian… talk to me."I know I did something you can't just forget, but I can't leave like this. Please, just hear me once."
Ian's breath caught in his chest. He hesitated, heart pounding, and then slowly walked to the front door. He turned on the intercom monitor.
Phu was there. Still. Sitting on the steps with his hands in his lap. He looked broken… in a way Ian had never seen before.
Every part of Ian screamed, Don't open that door… you'll fall again. But his fingers moved anyway. The lock clicked. The door opened.
He stood in the doorway, staring.
Phu stood up, slowly. He didn't speak. His eyes searched Ian's face, as if looking for permission to breathe.
Ian's lips trembled, but he said nothing. No words came.
He turned around… and walked away, into the living room.
Phu stood at the threshold for a moment before stepping in and quietly closing the door behind him.
I sat on the couch, the TV remote in my hand. I turned it on, letting the sound and colors distract me. I didn't look at Phu when he walked in again, his face freshly washed, but his eye was red.
He stood beside me, quietly. Then softly said, "I know you'll listen, Ian… but please, turn off the TV. Let me tell you everything."
I didn't turn it off, but I muted it.
I kept my eyes on the screen. Not to watch—just to avoid looking at him.
He took a deep breath.
"All the stories you heard about me are true. I was that guy once. I played with people. I got attention because of my name, my face. No matter where I went in Bangkok, people already knew me. That scared me more than it flattered me. I tried modelling—people said it's because of my dad. I tried acting—they said it's because of my family name. I almost gave up."
He paused.
"And then… You appeared."
I flinched, but stayed quiet.
"You called me like you genuinely didn't know who I was. You spoke like you didn't care about the industry, the fame, the name. That hit me. It amused me at first. I followed you… Just out of curiosity. But then your mae passed away, and I saw your world crumble, and I didn't want to be another storm in your life, so I left you alone."
My chest tightened. I still didn't look at him.
"Then one day… There you were. Standing in front of me again. Working with Phi Tan. You smiled, talked so normally, and I knew—I wanted you. I didn't want to let it pass again. So yes… I said stupid things to my friends. Out of ego. I called you a 'goal.' I messed up."
He sat down now, closer.
"Ian, you're the first person I've ever felt this for. I never loved anyone like I love you."
I closed my eyes, trying not to believe. Trying not to fall again.
"And about the woman… yes. She's my fiancée. It's an arranged situation. Her family wants it. My father wants it. But that kiss you saw? It was staged. We're acting. She has her boyfriend, whom her family won't accept, and I..... have you."
He looked at me now with pleading eyes.
"We're both pretending for our families. But it's a mess, I know. That night you saw me kiss her—yes, it looked real. And that's the pain I gave you. I can't deny that."
I finally looked at him. "So… all this is a drama to protect each other's secrets?"
He nodded. "But I want to stop pretending. I just need a little more time to fix this. I didn't want you to get dragged into it yet, but I messed it all up."
I whispered, "You really broke me, Phu."
"I know," he said, eyes glistening. "And I'll never forgive myself unless I fix it… and please let me try."