The noisy hum of promotional announcements, the rattling of cart wheels on the floor, and the chatter of shoppers all blended into the familiar, chaotic soundscape of the supermarket.
Amid the bustling crowd, Thien Duc pushed a shopping cart at a leisurely pace. His face was calm, his steps unhurried and even. Beside him, Huyet Minh walked in stride. Dressed simply in a white shirt and dark jeans, he still drew countless stares. His bright looks, tall frame, and composed demeanor made him stand out as if he didn't quite belong here.
Huyet Minh's eyes wandered along the shelves. His fingers brushed over a few items as he tilted his head to inspect them, as though he were searching for something—or perhaps deliberately feigning unfamiliarity with this mundane place just to linger closer to Thien Duc.
He picked up a package of cookies, his tone carrying a hint of curiosity:
"These look good. What do you think, Thien Duc?"
Thien Duc cast him a brief glance and replied flatly:
"They're just cookies. Pretty ordinary. If you want to try them, go ahead."
Huyet Minh gave a soft nod but, instead of putting the package into the cart, he placed it back. His pale blue eyes drifted toward Thien Duc, his voice dropping low, tinged with a subtle whine that didn't suit his usual poised demeanor:
"There's too much here. I can't decide on anything. Will you help me?"
Thien Duc turned to him, a faint crease forming between his brows.
"You're a real nuisance sometimes. Fine, I'll choose for you. Let's just finish up so we can go home."
He crouched slightly to grab a bag of rice and a few boxes of seasoning. While Thien Duc busied himself reading labels, Huyet Minh stepped back a little. His eyes quietly scanned the surroundings.
It didn't take long for him to notice the curious gazes from several directions—mostly young women and a few groups of students. Some covered their mouths to stifle giggles, while others subtly raised their phones, pretending to browse but clearly snapping photos.
Whispers drifted from the next aisle:
*"Who is he? He looks like a model…"
"Maybe an actor? With a face like that, he's definitely famous."
Huyet Minh's lips curved faintly—not quite annoyance, not quite amusement. His expression stayed calm as he stepped closer to Thien Duc, lowering his voice so only the two of them could hear:
"Hey, do you notice everyone staring at us?"
Thien Duc glanced around.
"Yeah. Probably because of you. You stand out too much."
Huyet Minh tilted his head, a soft smile forming.
"Really? I thought… they might be looking at you."
Thien Duc chuckled lightly, shrugging.
"Stop joking. They probably think you're some celebrity."
As he said it, he paused briefly, his gaze unintentionally lingering on Huyet Minh. A fleeting thought crossed his mind, almost humorously:
"When I first met him… I thought some movie star had wandered in to film a commercial. With a face like that, who would believe he's just a normal person? Being friends with someone like him… is it a blessing or a curse? Probably both…"
His eyes flicked downward toward his own stomach—a little rounder after weeks of eating Huyet Minh's carefully prepared dinners. He shook his head, letting out a quiet laugh. The soft sound caught Huyet Minh's attention, who tilted his head curiously.
Thien Duc cleared his throat, covering it up, and teased with a faint smirk:
"You're so noticeable, they'll make you famous any day now."
Huyet Minh leaned closer, his voice a low breeze against Thien Duc's ear:
"Then… I'll be a celebrity just for you. How does that sound?"
Thien Duc froze, instinctively stepping back. His voice tightened:
"What… are you saying? Focus on shopping."
Huyet Minh's smile deepened, a flicker of satisfaction glinting in his eyes. He said nothing more, simply following Thien Duc with unhurried steps, every movement deliberate—as though quietly asserting something to every wandering gaze around them.
---
At the checkout counter, the line stretched long. The air thickened with curious glances from every direction. Huyet Minh deliberately stood close, their shoulders nearly touching.
The cashier, a young woman, looked at him with wide, gleaming eyes. Her voice was soft, trembling slightly:
"You're… a celebrity, aren't you? Could I… maybe get your autograph?"
Huyet Minh smiled politely, inclining his head.
"I'm not a celebrity. Just an ordinary person."
Her face fell for a moment, but her eyes quickly lit up again.
"Then… can I have your phone number? If… it's okay?"
Before Huyet Minh could reply, Thien Duc cut in, his tone edged with impatience:
"Are we done here? We have things to do."
Both the cashier and Huyet Minh turned to look at him. Huyet Minh's smile softened into something almost teasing, his eyes glinting with a trace of mischief. As they left the counter, he leaned close to Thien Duc's ear, his voice a playful murmur:
"What's this… are you jealous?"
Thien Duc stiffened, quickly striding ahead to avoid his gaze.
"Jealous? Hardly. I just want to get home."
Huyet Minh chuckled softly, his voice smooth as silk:
"Alright, I'll behave. But today was fun… Thanks for coming with me."
Thien Duc didn't reply, pushing the cart faster, trying—and failing—to ignore the weight of those lingering, deep-set eyes on his back.
---
Back home, Thien Duc dropped the bags on the table, grabbed a water bottle, and drank several long gulps. His face was flushed—though whether from exertion or from Huyet Minh's earlier words, he couldn't say.
Muttering under his breath, his voice low:
"'Are you jealous?'… What the hell… Who would be jealous of him?"
He set the bottle down with a thud, but the awkward heat in his chest lingered. His hand drifted to his sternum, feeling the quick, unsteady rhythm of his heartbeat.
"Why is it beating like this? It's just… irritation. That's all it is. Just annoyed because he talks nonsense," he told himself. Yet his gaze wandered toward the window, where Huyet Minh had disappeared moments ago.
Dropping into a chair, he pressed his forehead into his hand, willing the image of Huyet Minh's teasing smile away. But the more he tried, the clearer it became, and the words echoed louder in his mind.
"Stop thinking about it! He was just joking… No reason to dwell on it."
He pulled out his phone, hoping to distract himself by scrolling through the feed. The screen lit up with a new message:
[Huyet Minh]: "Did you get home safely? You seemed… a little off earlier."
Thien Duc stared at the screen, a swirl of emotions rising—part annoyance, part warmth, part something he couldn't name. His fingers hovered over the keyboard for a long while, torn between replying or ignoring it. In the end, he typed a brief response, though his eyes remained shadowed, as if even he couldn't understand the storm churning quietly inside him.