Here's the full English translation of your Chapter 1 with the name "Nubtam" kept exactly as requested:
Chapter 1
I Don't Want to See You Anymore
Breaking up with someone doesn't require a hundred excuses. It's just that after a while of being together, after learning each other's habits, one day the relationship simply reaches its limit.
Like that day, four years ago.
It was a bright morning, sunlight streaming through the window—warm but not unbearable, not enough to make me turn away or get up. Just another ordinary morning, except when I opened my eyes, I saw his bare back, and myself bare as well. The only difference was that he was in boxers, sitting cross-legged on the floor at a low Japanese table, iPad in hand, his back to me.
"Nile," I called softly. He turned with a smile.
"You're up? Hungry?" he asked. The question was accompanied by the fragrant scent of soy milk drifting through the air—he must have gone down to the morning market at the end of the alley, as always.
"Sorry about yesterday… I forgot your birthday."
"It's nothing," Nile said with an easy smile, as if it wasn't important. Even though he had planned so much—booked a restaurant, bought movie tickets.
Last night I'd returned almost at three in the morning. The moment I opened the door, I was met with the fading glow of candles, stuck into a cake that had probably been beautifully decorated, now ruined with melted wax. Of course, my birthday was still months away. The cake could only have been for Nile.
"It's fine. Really."
"See? It's no big deal. I'll remind you next year," he said gently, slipping under the blanket beside me. His large hand stroked my head comfortingly, then rested lightly against my cheek.
"Yesterday I forgot your birthday. Before that, I forgot our anniversary. Forgot dinner. Forgot the movie. Forgot to call. Forgot—"
"Nubtam." Nile's voice sharpened slightly, his smile fading. The irritation in his tone was clear, though still restrained.
"Maybe someday I'll forget N—"
Smack.
A heavy kiss landed on my lips, more punishment than affection. Lately, we had been arguing more often—or rather, I had been the one picking fights. Even now, I was the one provoking an argument. I knew it was childish, but honestly, I couldn't keep going anymore.
"Nile," I sighed, calling his name with a weary expression.
"..."
"Shouldn't we stop this… both of us?"
"..."
"Let's break up, please, Nubtam's begging you."
And that bright morning became the morning we ended.
News of our breakup spread faster than a bullet train. Like many couples, I deleted our photos from Instagram, unfriended him on Facebook. But no matter how much I erased him from the internet, I couldn't erase the fact that we still studied in the same faculty. Thankfully, I was never close to his group of friends, so I didn't have to awkwardly force smiles or avoid them.
Between Nile and me, we became strangers. Occasionally, in class, our eyes would accidentally meet—only to look away the next moment. No greetings, no words. Just classmates, nothing more.
Some people even celebrated openly that we'd finally broken up. I could only give a small, empty smile at the comments from people I barely knew. Once, I overheard someone call me a "cheap girl." I actually pulled out my phone to Google the meaning. Not surprising.
"Nubtam, table three!"
Fiat's voice rang out before he even appeared. He was the manager of the nightclub where I worked. The slim man pushed into the dressing room, where I was now dressed in a black strapless top, short leather skirt, and sharp red heels. My face was painted thick with makeup to withstand the flashing lights of the club.
I was a beer girl at this club. It wasn't exactly a secret—many of the customers were fellow students. Rumors about me spread, but I never felt the need to explain myself to people who wished me ill.
"Who is it, P'Fiat?" I asked.
"P'Klaharn."
I nodded, checked my reflection in the mirror one last time, then headed out. I usually only accepted familiar customers, since truthfully, I wasn't even of age. At first, I'd only stepped in because they were short-staffed—my original duties had just been helping in the kitchen or cleaning.
"Hello, P'Klaharn," I greeted, sitting down beside him on the long velvet sofa.
"Hey. Finals soon, right?"
"Yes. I took a full load this semester, and all the exams are packed into the schedule," I grumbled, making him chuckle. Ah, right—P'Klaharn was in the same faculty but already doing his master's.
"Rough."
"Grad school must be rougher. What would you like to drink tonight?"
"Something light. I've got a thesis meeting tomorrow."
"Got it. Nubtam will take care of that for you."
I bowed playfully before heading to the bar and placing the order. Returning with the drink, I found his arm sliding across my bare shoulders, pulling me closer as he downed the liquor in one gulp.
"Heard you broke up with your boyfriend, Nubtam," he said, already sounding a bit looser after just one drink.
"That was ages ago. You're late to the news," I replied with a small laugh, leaning to prepare another.
"I knew. But every time we crossed paths at the faculty, you ignored me—like we weren't even acquainted." His voice carried a hint of hurt, his hand sliding to my waist as if to prove the closeness he claimed.
I smiled and handed him the drink. "Sorry."
"At first, I thought you were just respecting your boyfriend. But since you've broken up… don't ignore me anymore when we meet outside, okay?"
"..."
"If you do, I'll punish you," he said, brushing his nose against my shoulder in playful threat. I laughed and pulled slightly away.
"You smell so good tonight, Nubtam."
"Oh? Nubtam thought she smelled good all the time."
"You little tease," he scolded sweetly. "Guess I'll need another round."
"If you insist."
"Bring me the works."
I grinned and hurried off again. The more drinks a customer ordered, the higher my commission. Win-win.
"Here you go, Nubtam."
"Thanks, P'Nua." I accepted the drinks from the skilled bartender. But when I turned back, I froze. Across the room, Nile was sitting with his group of friends, their table deliberately watching me before whispering among themselves. Nile was the last to tear his eyes away.
Why was Nile here? Since when? And how much had he seen?
My heart pounded as I forced myself back to the table. I must have looked terrible, because as soon as I returned, P'Klaharn asked what was wrong. I shook my head, feigning calm, though my eyes kept darting back to that table.
"Thought you'd be shocked by your ex."
"Why would I? We're over," I said flatly. He laughed, sensing I didn't want to discuss it, and changed the subject while slipping an arm around my waist.
The club eventually closed. I hadn't taken any other clients but him. His bill alone equaled someone's monthly salary, while I mentally calculated my share for the end of the month—bills were piling up