Archive of Our Own

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CHAPTER ONE:

Everything goes to hell on a Saturday. It happens at school – a fitting place for any nightmare to start. This time, though, it’s not a dream Macau can simply wake up from, far from it.

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“Guys, this sucks. How much longer do I have to sit here?”
Macau lets out an exaggerated sigh, absently fiddling with the half-empty water bottle in his hands. His fingers meet sticky plastic, where the label once had been. In his boredom, he’d picked at the tag until nothing was left. The only proof of it ever having been there are the white flakes on the ground. With a swift motion of his legs, Macau hides the evidence beneath his seat. And just like that, it’s gone. The torn up label, his last thread to sanity. Now what?
His eyes wander around the room, the familiar surroundings making him grimace slightly. It’s the weekend and yet he is here – in the last place any teenager wants to be. School. And he is not alone. Dozens of other kids are in the building, most of them members of the theatre club. They are making preparations for the upcoming play, which will be performed next Friday in front of the whole school. Well, not the whole school, just the students and their family member who are willing to pay twenty dollars for the entry. The incomings will be donated to the local animal shelter. While Macau isn’t one for theatre – at least not if it’s an amateur play staring the upperclassmen as well as some of his own classmates – he completely supports the idea of helping the strays in town. Being denied a pet as a kid somehow made him adore animals even more and if there’s one thing he is willing to spend money on, it’s them.
So yeah, that’s why he’s here. Because he wants to help make money for the animal shelter . . . and because if he wouldn’t have agreed to support the theatre club, his punishment for breaking into the physics teacher’s car would have been a month-long detention instead of sacrificing a single weekend. The choice had been an easy one.
Unfortunately, the members of the theatre club didn’t seem to share the sentiment. Not soon after going to work the older kids had stopped him in his tracks. They’d immediately banished him from the painting area after laying eyes on his first artwork.
“A bit harsh.”, Macau secretly thought.
So what if the flowers he’d drawn looked suspiciously like the plants in Mario Kart instead of actual flowers? Art is art! Everything is possible!
Assembling the props using the crafting tools was a no-go as well. The unfortunate meeting between the heavy velvet curtains and a Bunsen burner Macau had taken from the chem room apparently proved that he isn’t to be trusted with anything involving fire. Or people. Even cutting out decorative stars suddenly seemed like a task too risky and dangerous for Macau.
P’ Hom, his upperclassman and leader of the theatre club, had ordered him to silently wait while they finished their work.
At first, Macau had been relieved. Finally, he was free of his duty. No more unnecessary work for him! Now, almost ten hours later – okay, to be fair it had only been around thirty minutes, but who’s counting? – Macau is anything but happy. He’d rather do some dumb tasks instead of sitting there like a puppet, silent and still, waiting for everything to end.
“Guys? Hello?” None of the kids nearby do so much as glance at him. Macau’s desperate cries for help go ignored. Rude. “Are you for real? C’mon, I just want to help.”
No answer. With a groan, Macau drops back into his seat, his gaze landing on the armrest of his chair. Suddenly, the dark wood seems particularly inviting to him. He can almost feel his mind drifting into forbidden territory.
Should he carve his name into the chair…?
It would be a statement – a reminder that he was truly here, that he had been part of the group who prepared everything for the upcoming school play. The upperclassmen might be able to stop him from helping them, but they couldn’t erase his presence. Neither could they erase the small knife hidden inside one of his pockets!
Even though Macau is no longer allowed to use the mallet, hacksaw and clippers the theater club owned, his own things are an entirely different matter. They couldn’t just get rid of Macau’s belongings. That would be a crime. Macau could sue them and their lives would be over. Finally, he had the upper hand!
Decision made, Macau puts the water bottle on the ground, then stretches his shoulders, ready to put his plan into motion. As if sensing his thoughts, Ché – the one person who should have had his back only to end up being a traitor, agreeing with the theatre kids when they forced him onto the sidelines – speaks up, effectively stopping him from pulling out the concealed knife.
“We’re almost done with the background.”, he says, shooting him one of his thousand-watt smiles. Macau narrows his eyes. He isn’t fooled, not one bit. He knows his friend’s distraction attempts well enough. Ex-friend. Whatever. “P’ Ice ordered drinks for everyone. Why don’t you help him carry everything inside while we finish this?”
And there it is!
“I’m not your errand boy!”, Macau immediately responds, affronted. He raises from his seat only to halt seconds later, the meaning of Ché’s words catching up to him. “Wait, you guys ordered drinks? When did that happen?”
Macau cannot for the life of him, remember anyone ordering drinks. The last thirty minutes had been filled with nothing but white noise and despair. There has been no mention of drinks of any kind.
“About fifteen minutes ago.”, Ché answers with a sigh. He sends Macau an exasperated look, but he is unable to hide the fond amusement in his voice. “P’ Ice asked you what you want but you were too busy starring daggers into the wall to notice.”
“Don’t worry, I ordered for you.”, Che cuts the impending complaints easily off, smiling innocently. “A Grande White Mocha Frappuccino with hazelnut syrup and caramel crunch topping.”
Great. Now he couldn’t even stay mad at his friend who took the time and ordered his favorite drink for him. Ché was too good for this world.
“Fine, whatever.”, Macau grumbles, still a tad annoyed. “I can carry the drinks, but I’m not paying.”
His friend starts laughing. The sound is not loud enough to drone out the words from the kid next to him.
“Says the most loaded kid in school.”, Gan, a scrawny boy from his parallel class, whispers. He isn’t looking at Macau, his focus completely directed at the canvas in front of him. Macau knows the words are probably not meant to be heard, but he does, and he cannot stop the dark flush from creeping into his cheeks.
“What did you say?”, he wants to know, taking a step towards the tribune.
Startled, Gan looks up. His eyes are wide behind his glasses.
“Uh, sorry. I didn’t … I didn’t mean it like that. It just slipped out … I mean …”, he answers, feebly glancing around, but no help comes. The students who notice the slowly impending fight don’t say anything, they simply let the drama unfold in front of their eyes, watching. Fitting for the theater kids. Gan lets out a meek sound, shrugging helplessly. He is not meeting Macau’s gaze when he starts explaining himself. “Everyone knows about your family and uh, … well, it’s not a secret that you’re rich, so …”
“So just because my family makes a lot of money, I should buy you things? Even though I never talked to some of you until today?”, Macau interrupts the rambling with a sharp hiss. He cannot stop his pulse from speeding up, his anger growing with the second. His family had always been a sore spot for him, this would never change. “Is that what you’re saying?”
Now it’s the other boy who turns red. He shakes his head, the movement so jerky it makes his glasses slide further down his nose.
“Hey, leave him alone.”, another kid, one which Macau has never seen before, suddenly chimes in. Unlike Gan, the boy has no problem looking Macau in the eyes. With a dark frown, he sneers at him. His voice is loud enough to draw the attention of the remaining students in the hall. All of them turn towards the tribune, listening to the interaction. “He was only telling the truth. Why are you getting so worked up? Everyone knows about your family and what they do, don’t look so shocked!”
“That’s unfair Chai.”, Ché abruptly interferes, frowning. The unhappy grimace looks quite strange on his usually smiling face. Maybe it’s because he is now also part of this world and even if the kids from school don’t know it, every word that can be said about Macau, every rumor and insult, applies to Ché as well. Maybe even more so. Macau’s family – consisting of him, Vegas and P’ Pete – has already pulled back from the family business. After their father’s death they wanted to bring some much needed distance between them and their estranged cousins, just until everything settled down. Ché’s own brother, on the other hand, is more involved in the mafia life than ever and in relation Chè is as well. “Stop saying such things.”
The dickhead, Chai, just shakes his head, his dark eyes never leaving Macau.
“Why should I? He started it!”, he hisses. The words make Macau grit his teeth. He started it? Is the guy kidding? For once in his life, he didn’t start shit. “Why are you so angry anyway? You should be used to people talking about you. What’s the big deal? Are you craving some extra attention, is that it? Aren’t you getting enough at home already, huh? I bet your big brother showers you with praise even if you’ve done nothing to deserve it.”
At the first mention of Vegas, Macau loses any remains of coolness he had left.
Before his eyes, everything turns red, red, red.
“Leave my brother out of this, you dumb shit!”, he replies furiously, his hands balling into fists. One bad word directed at Vegas and he will punch the other kid in the face, consequences be damned. Like hell he will allow some stupid kid insult his brother and get away with it. Chai only scoffs in response and with feigned casualty he brushes the dyed blond bangs from his forehead.
“And what happens if I don’t? Are you going to send your family after me to teach me a lesson?”, the arrogant prick asks. With every word his voice gets sharper. “It must be so easy being you, getting everything you want. I mean, just look at you. Every other student would have been thrown out of school if they’d pulled a stunt like that, damaging teacher’s properties. But one call from your brother and everything is okay again. You just have to sit here for a few days, pretend you’re helping and then it’s over. The whole incident will vanish from everyone’s mind. I mean, who would dare say something against a Theerapanyakul, huh? Nobody.”
Macau grits his teeth, eyes pulled into slits. Red turns white. For a moment he can see nothing, a fog of searing hot anger clouding his sight. He thought the times of getting insulted by the other kids because of the rumors clinging to his last name were over, but apparently not.
“You know nothing about me and my family! Stop talking shit!”
It sounds like a stupid cliché coming from a rich and privileged kid– as Macau often was called – but all the money and power meant nothing to him. He would trade all the priceless heirlooms and properties overseas in a heartbeat, if him and Vegas would have gotten a normal childhood in exchange. A life without bloodshed and pain, where his brother wouldn’t have to sacrifice anything – everything – in order to keep them alive. A world with their mother still in it, maybe even their father – though a much kinder version of him.
Macau has to bite his tongue to keep himself from voicing his thoughts. He knows saying such things would only make him more vulnerable for another attack. He would play right into that asshole’s cards – acting like a whiny, rich kid starved for attention. If there is one thing his father had taught him over the years, it was to never show weakness – not in front of strangers and not in front of the family. The man might be gone by now, killed by his own brother, Macau’s uncle, but the lesson stuck with him. He wouldn’t be able to forget even if he wanted too.
Before the situation can escalate further, one of the upperclassmen steps in.
“Chai, Macau. That’s enough!”, P’ Hom, leader of the theatre club says sharply, her voice loud enough to fill the whole room. The girl is standing in the middle of the tribune, her arms crossed over her chest. There are colorful stains on her face and in her hair, which somehow doesn’t lessen her threatening appearance, quite the opposite. She looks like an army general with her war paint on. “No fighting on the tribune unless it’s part of a play, that’s a rule.”
“Sorry, P.”, Gan immediately mumbles, even though he hadn’t been called out by the senior. The kid is still staring at the ground, too afraid of confrontation to look up.
Macau and Chai, in contrast, don’t say anything at all, silently continuing their glaring contest. P’ Hom loudly clears her throat, obviously waiting for them to cease fighting. Well, tough luck. Macau surely wouldn’t be the first one to give in. No way. He wasn’t even standing on the tribune, but in front of it – the rules didn’t apply to him.
“Chai, if you don’t stop with the nonsense, I’ll remove you from the play.”, P’ Hom suddenly says, turning towards Macau’s new archenemy. The words cause Chai to turn around, breaking the silent battle.
“You can’t do that!”, he says, outraged. “You know how hard I worked to get this role! It’s supposed to be my debut!”
The senior only arches an eyebrow in response, unimpressed by the shocked exclamation.
“I can and I will.”, she answers, thumping her chest. “I’m the club president. The power is mine.”
She finishes the statement with an evil cackle. Satisfied, Macau listens to the reprimand, but his smile soon vanishes as the girl continues speaking.
“The same goes for you, Macau.”, she says, pointing a finger at him. “I don’t care about the rumors surrounding your family. If you make a mess of my theater, you deal with me … and just so you know, I can be incredibly vicious if the situation calls for it.”
“You’re always vicious, Hom, no matter the occasion.”, another senior suddenly chimes in. “Last week you started a brawl in the cafeteria because there were no chocolate brownies left for you.”
“Uh, yes?”, P’ Hom replies, looking at her friend as if she was blabbering nonsense instead of stating facts. “We’re talking about chocolate – the essence of my life. Of course, I’m going to fight for it!”
For a moment, it’s silent, then the seniors start to chuckle. And just like that, the tension vanishes from the room. Gan finally raises his head, a nervous smile on his lips. Chai is slouching next to him. The student doesn’t look happy, but at least he is no longer glaring at Macau and instead focusing on the other kids.
As for Macau himself – he lets out a sharp breath through his nose, trying to let all negative emotions go with it, just like P’ Pete had shown him during their last yoga session.
Yoga. It’s a thing they are doing now – him and P’ Pete. Not Vegas. He was banned after the first time Macau had stumbled across them making out on the yoga mat like lovesick teenagers. The worst thing? They’d done it on Macau’s mat. He had to burn it afterwards, of course.
While the encounter had been scarring for life, it had not been enough to stop him from doing the weekly exercises with P’ Pete. Since Vegas had proven time and time again that he wasn’t the ideal role model concerning anger management, his boyfriend and lover – and future husband if Macau had anything to say about it – had dedicated himself to the task. Every time Macau was frustrated and his anxiety got too much to handle, the former bodyguard had a yoga session with him. That, or they went boxing, though Macau doubted that decking Chai in the face would keep the newfound peace.
“But it would be satisfying as fuck.”, Macau thinks, then shakes his head.
He takes another deep breath and once he feels like he got all of his self-control back, he turns around, intending to return to his assigned seat. Before he can make a single step though, Ché appears by his side. His friend is softly grasping his shoulder, expression concerned.
“Are you alright, Macau?”, he asks.
Macau nods, because he is.P’ Pete’s advice had done the job.
“Why wouldn’t I be alright?”, he replies, shrugging. “I’m spending the weekend at school, together with a bunch of other students I barely talk to, so we can prepare everything for the theatre performance next Friday and even though I’ll be here during the rehearsal tomorrow, my homeroom teacher is still forcing me to pay the entry ticket for a total of twenty dollars, which will be donated to the local animal shelter. A good cause. I love animals, especially the fuzzy kind. I’m still holding out hope that Vegas will get me a pet for my next birthday. He was against the idea of adopting a dog the last time I asked, but P’ Pete didn’t seem to mind. Once I have him on my side, Vegas will give in for sure. It doesn’t even have to be a dog, a cat would be fine too. Or a hamster. I’d even take a rat, to be honest. Every animal is fine, as long as it’s real and not a plastic toy.”
Macau’s still mad about the plastic fish he received for his last birthday.Vegas actually had the gall to look smug while handing them to him.Brotherly love really knows no bounds when it comes to the Theerapanyakul family.
Ché lets out a cough. Before Macau can ask him if he is feeling ill, P’ Hom appears next to them. Without him noticing, the girl had excused herself from the other seniors and joined their group of two.
“That’s the spirit, kid!”, she says, smiling brightly. “It’s a wonderful day. Let’s not waste our time by picking unnecessary fights, especially if they are about something stupid as a coffee order. Ice is going to pay anyways.”
“Thanks Hom. I can feel the love from here.”, a boy laying on the tribune shouts, waving lazily. His form is half-hidden by the curtains – or at least what’s left of them –, which are draped over him like a blanket. With a surprisingly graceful movement, the student frees himself from the fabric and bounces over. “But Hom’s right, the drinks are on me. No need to lose your cool, especially if I’m around.”
He throws an arm around the girl’s shoulder and winks. Close up, Macau can see the dimples on his cheek. Dammit, his weakness. Hurriedly, he averts his gaze, willing the surely incoming blush to stay away. He doesn’t want to get teased by Ché for crushing on one of his seniors. Not again.
P’Hom doesn’t seem to have the same problem as him. With a groan, she pushes her friend away.
“That was so lame, Ice.”, she says. “Stop with the cool guy act, it’s ridiculous. You make the rest of the seniors look stupid.”
“Ouch.”, P’Ice answers, taking a step back. With his right hand he starts rubbing the place the girl had hit. “That hurt.”
“Don’t be a baby.”, the theatre leader answers, rolling her eyes. “I barely touched you.”
“I’m talking about your words, Hom!”, P’Ice replies, voice overly tearful. For a moment, it looks like the upperclassman will fall to his knees, but in the end he only wiggles a bit in place, eerily similar to a worm on a string. His hands are buried in his own shirt, right above his heart. “Stick and stones may break my bones, but your words are pure hell …”
“Oh, I’m going to show you hell!”
With a raised hand, P’Hom takes a step towards the other theatre member, but before she can do anything a shrill noise rings out, drowning out P’ Ice’s shouts of “domestic abuse”.
“Wait, isn’t that …?”, Ché mumbles dumbfounded, staring at P’ Ice. With a grimace, Macau follows his gaze. The sound is coming from the upperclassman’s jacket.
“Yeah, it is.”, Macau mumbles. His cousin’s voice is blaring from the phone, singing some extremely emotional song about lost opportunities and star-crossed lovers. And just like that, any chances of him developing a crush on the upperclassman are gone. There’s no way he can have feelings for someone who uses one of Kim’s songs as ringtone.
Silently, they watch as P’ Ice accepts the call and exchanges a few words with the person on the other line. Headshaking, P’ Hom crosses her arms over her chest and glares at her friend.
“Saved by the bell.”, she mumbles. “Typically.”
“Drinks are here.”, P’ Ice says seconds later, after hanging up. “Macau, can you help me carry them inside?”
“Sure, P’.”, Macau answers, earning himself a bright grin from the upperclassman. For obvious reasons, it no longer holds the same appeal to Macau as before.
“Great. Then off we go.”, P’ Ice puts his hands on Macau’s shoulders, making him tense. He cannot stop himself from reacting this way. Macau isn’t used to other people touching him without malicious intent – the only exception being his brother. Even P’ Pete’s gentle nudges sometimes make him flinch, years of abuse by his own father, his family, leaving an invisible mark on his body and mind.
As if sensing his thoughts, the upperclassman pulls back. He nods towards the door, then waves at the others.
“See you later, alligator.”
P’ Hom answers without missing a beat. “Take care, polar bear.”
The words cause P’ Ice to stop in his tracks. With bright eyes he turns towards the other senior, his lips forming a wide smile.
“Hom! That’s the sweetest thing you ever said to me!”
“Uh-huh. Whatever.”, the girl responds, rolling her eyes. With an impatient hand gesture, she shoos her friend away. “Now get me my coffee and chocolate, servant!”
“Your wish is my command, my queen!”
Without further delay he turns around. Macau and Ché exchange a bewildered look, then he leaves as well. When Macau finally catches up to P’ Ice, the senior student is already at the entrance. Damn, that guy was fast. If Macau didn’t know better, he’d assume that the guy had sprinted to the doorway while he wasn’t looking.
The whole way through the school building, the upperclassman isn’t saying anything, instead he is whistling some happy tune to a song Macau doesn’t know the name of. Macau follows his lead and stays silent, though he cannot stop his hands from getting clammy. Being alone with the older student makes him nervous. He blames it on the dimples.
After paying the delivery kid, who’s already waiting in front of the school building, face twisted into an annoyed expression – oh, the joys of working as a delivery guy on the weekend –, P’Ice finally breaks the silence.
“You know, Gan didn’t mean anything bad by it.”
Confused, Macau wrinkles his brows. It takes him a few seconds to realize what the upperclassman is saying. Great. So they were having a talk about it after all.
“I’ve known the kid for over a year now.”, P’Ice continues, unaware - or simply uncaring - about Macau’s unwillingness to talk. Couldn’t they just have continued their walk in silence? Even listening to another song of Kim would be better than getting a lecture by his upperclassman. “Gan has the habit of voicing every little thought that goes through his head. He doesn’t think about the implications behind it. You shouldn’t take the things he says too seriously.”
They reach the building. P’Ice opens the door with his right elbow, his hands clutching a gigantic box of sweets. Macau’s own arms are crammed with bags of iced drinks. The coldness emitting from the beverages is soothing to his clammy skin.
“As for Chai.”, P’ice continues once they safely managed to cross the threshold of the building. With a loud clang the door falls shut behind them. “I’m not gonna lie, the kid loves confrontation. But most of the time when he’s causing a ruckus, it’s because he’s standing up for the weaker students.”
“And who is going to stand up for me?”, Macau thinks, but doesn’t ask. The unspoken words leave a bitter taste on his tongue. He swallows, but the feelings don’t go away.
It’s been a year since his father’s death. Everyone in school knows about it, but aside from Ché no one was aware about the circumstances of his father’s demise. About the murder. The general public believed that he died in a typical car accident, leaving all of his business, money and power to his sons. It was a half-truth. Vegas and Macau still have enough money to last several lifetimes. They would never have to work again, not if they didn’t want to. The power, though, was gone. After pulling back from the family business, Porsche took reigns of the Minor Household. Now it was the Kittisawat brothers, who everyone had to look out for.
Macau wonders how the other students would treat Ché, should they find out the truth. Would their behavior towards his friend change? Would that stupid prick Chai insult him like he’d insulted Macau? Somehow, he doesn’t think so. Who in their right mind would talk badly about sunshine boy Ché?
The answer was, no one.
It was always going to be Vegas and Macau who would have to endure the hatred. It’s the only thing they would never lose, the only thing their cousins couldn’t – wouldn’t – take from them.
“It’s fine, P’.”, Macau mumbles, averting his gaze.
“It’s really not.”, P’Ice answers. The words cause Macau to look at the other student, more than surprised. His upperclassman is watching him through squinted eyes. There’s no sign of his dimple. “Even if he wanted to defend his friend, he shouldn’t have said these things to you. That was not cool of him.”
“Uh ...”, Macau clears his throat, unsure how to reply.
“They won’t do it again.”, P’Ice continues before he can come up with something. “I’m pretty sure Hom is having words with Chai by now. She’s been giving him one of her looks while we went outside. It was a bit scary, I wouldn’t want to be in the kid’s shoes right now.”
The upperclassman playfully shudders, almost dropping the dessert box in his hands.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head.”, he finishes with a reassuring smile, the dimple making its return. “It won’t happen again.”
Macau can feel himself flushing red. He lowers his head to the ground, quietly repeating P’Ice’s words.
“Pretty little head?”
An elbow nudges him in the side.
“You okay, kid?”
“Uh, yeah. I’m good.”, Macau hastily says, looking upwards again. He sends the upperclassman an honest smile. His cheeks still feel hot, but it doesn’t stop the joy from bubbling in his chest. “Thank you, P’.”
Satisfied, P’ Ice nods. They continue their walk back to the theatre club. As soon as they take the first step into the room, P’ Hom loudly announces the lunch break and not a second later, Macau and P’ Ice get swarmed by hungry students, each one frantically trying to get their order.
After the quite terrifying encounter – never get in the way of a starving student and their favorite drink – Macau and Ché make themselves comfortable at the edge of the tribune. Several of the older theatre club members join them, which Macau doesn’t mind at all. The upperclassman had always been nicer to him than the younger students. Admittedly, sometimes it felt like his older schoolmates treated him more like a cute pet than a real kid. One time he’d skipped class only to end up falling asleep in the school library, where a group of seniors had a study session. Not only did they not complain about his presence, one of the older kids even offered him his school uniform as pillow. Macau was pretty sure that he ended up drooling on the thing in his sleep, but the student never said anything. Whatever the reason, Macau was okay with it. It beat getting insulted any day.
As for Chai, him and that other kid, Gan, spent their lunch break outside of the theatre room. After sending one last, dark look at Macau, Chai had exited the building, the other boy close on his heels. This development was also more than fine with Macau. Mutual avoidance was probably the best thing for them.
Macau doesn’t know if P ’Hom took pity on him thanks to the encounter with Chai, or if she was just in a good mood after inhaling a whole box of chocolate muffins on her own, but after lunch she allowed Macau to join the group again. He was no longer excluded from the preparations but instead allowed to help – under certain conditions howsoever. No knives, no scissors, no Bunsen burners, etc.
Macau, already knowing the spiel, just nodded, all the while smiling innocently at the upperclassmen. And even though he wasn’t really listening, he played by their rules and kept the chaos to a minimum. The only thing he'd done was steal a fancy looking ninja star, which he'd found among the stuff from the costume department. Macau just couldn’t resist the temptation, not after finding out that they were property of Chai – also known as the biggest asshole on the planet. Well, what can he say? Macau can be quite petty when the situation calls for it.
While he hid the stolen goods inside his shoe, he couldn't stop his mind from wandering. What story did the theatre club plan to reenact again? Naruto? Macau seriously doubted the teachers would be okay with that, though it might make more money than some boring tale about some long dead poet walking around in balloon trousers.
Another positive thing about the afternoon was Ché redeeming himself. As expected from a good friend, he kept quiet while Macau swiped the ninja star. Aside from an exaggerated eye roll he didn’t make a comment.
And then, after another two hours –
“Freedom!”
With a relieved sigh, Macau falls back on the stage, several other students doing the same. Hours of grueling work was catching up to everyone and by now Macau wasn’t the only one who wanted to go home and enjoy the late evening.
“Good job everyone.”, P’ Hom loudly said. The girl was grinning brightly, no sign of exhaustion on her face. “We made good progress today.”
Clapping and hollers follow her statement.
“Tomorrow we will make final adjustments on set.”, P’ Hom continues once it quieted down. “Rehearsals will be from Monday till Thursday. The band will be able to join us on Wednesday and Thursday. I know, I know. It’s short notice, but they cannot come earlier since they also need to prepare for the upcoming Sports Festival. But don’t forget, they are experts. Two days should be more than enough for our seniors!”
“What? The Band will join us?”, Macau whispers excitedly, turning to Ché. Spotting his friend’s grin, his mood immediately sours. With a huff, Macau crosses his arms in front of his chest. Yeah, he’s crushing on P’Paitoon, leader of the school band. So what? He didn’t tease Ché about his … relationship with Kim either. Eugh, even thinking about it makes him want to hurl.
Macau tunes back into P’ Hom’s speech, trying to drive all thoughts about his cousin away.
“We would love nothing more than to give everyone who helped with the preparations a free ticket for our show, but I fear that’s not possible. I beg you, think of the animals. We are doing this for them!”, P’ Hom says, clapping her hands together. “So please, pay the entry fee. Save some of our fuzzy friends – I’m talking about the animals and not furries, though no offense to anyone, no kink shaming here.”
Another wave of clapping and hollering comes from the students.
“That being said, enjoy your evening, you deserve it!”, P’ Hom ends her speech with a little bow. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning, sharply at ten.”
On cue, a horde of students starts streaming towards the exit. Ché is the only one dragging his feet, moving purposely slow. With a groan, Macau gives him a little push, making his friend laugh.
“You don’t have to wait for me, Macau.”, Ché says, a slight blush emerging on his face. “Kim is picking me up and you know how he is about crowds, I’ll wait a few minutes before going outside.”
Before Macau can complain – how comes Ché is so considerate of his cousin’s needs, but not of the ones of his best friend, meaning Macau himself? – one of the worst things possible starts to happen. Ché starts gushing about his perfect boyfriend. Macau can literally see how Ché’s eyes turn into a heart shape.
“I’m so excited, Macau! The anticipation is killing me, I could barely sleep last night! You know, this time Kim planned our date all on his own, he didn’t want my input whatsoever. Apparently there’s a new art exhibition nearby he wants to show me and afterwards we’re going for ice cream. Recently this cute little shop opened, you know the one near the docks? With the green bunny on the front? My study group wanted to go this week, but when Kim mentioned it, I declined of course. I want it to be a first experience for us together! Oh, and …”
“I’m out of here!”, Macau interrupts his friend, his hands hovering over his ears. Not to be ungrateful or anything, but if there’s one thing he heard more than enough about in the last few weeks it was how great his cousin was. He doesn’t want to waste more time on this lovey-dovey stuff than absolutely necessary. Not with freedom so close …
“See you tomorrow!”
Ché responds to his shout with a small laugh and a wave, not annoyed in the least. He’s probably too busy thinking about the upending date with Kim. Eugh …
With practiced ease Macau pulls his phone from his bag, smoothly walking through familiar corridors. His body moves on autopilot, his feet following a well-known path while his eyes are on his phone. Macau opens the family group chat – consisting of him, his brother and P’ Pete. There are several messages waiting for him.

< When are you coming home, Macau? > – Brother In Law

< He won’t be released from prison for the next few hours, darling. > – Adult Disneyland

< Vegas … > – Brother In Law

< What? I’m only telling the truth.> – Adult Disneyland

With a snort, Macau types his answer.

< Shut up, bro. I was doing a good thing, you know? > - Me

< Not everyone would sacrifice their weekend to help classmates! > - Me

< You should take an example from me, bro. > – Me

Almost a second later an answer comes through, almost as if his brother had been staring at the phone nonstop, waiting for his response. What a loser.

< Oh yeah? Please remind me again why you helped the theatre club in the first place ... > - Adult Disneyland

< I doubt it was the same reason why your little friend showed up in school today. > – Adult Disneyland

Macau rolls his eyes after reading the message.

< His name is Ché, bro. Seriously, stop acting like he’s a stranger instead of my best friend, just because he is big P’s brother. > - Me

< And he is here because he can’t say no. > - Me

< And FYI, I helped because I’m a good soul. > – Me

< You helped the theatre club with their preparations because the principal forced you to ... > - Adult Disneyland

< It was either that or four weeks of detention in a row. > - Adult Disneyland

< That’s what you get for breaking into your teacher’s car. > - Adult Disneyland

< No fighting, boys ... > - Brother in Law

<
But Vegas is right. If you have to break in somewhere, at least make sure you don’t get caught, Macau. > - Brother In Law

< I can show you some tricks if you want. > - Brother In Law

< Are you goading my brother into a life of crime, Pete? How naughty. > - Adult Disneyland

A full-body shudder wrecks through his frame.With a grimace, Macau sends a new text message into the chat.

< Oh my god, please stop … my eyes ˙◠˙
> - Me

Thankfully P’ Pete takes pity on him, apologizing. The same cannot be said for his brother, however. And Vegas wondered why Pete was his favorite? Duh …

< Sorry Macau … > - Brother In Law

< Deal with it, little brother. > - Adult Disneyland

< The food is almost ready. Stop messing around with your friends and tell the driver to take you straight home. > - Adult Disneyland

< I’ll know if you tell your bodyguards to make a detour. No funny business. > - Adult Disneyland

Macau huffs, annoyed, not even getting the chance to answer before another threat from his brother arrives.

< We’ll start dinner without you. > - Adult Disneyland

An indignant sound escapes Macau’s lips. Immediately embarrassed, he takes a glance around, but there’s no one nearby who could have overheard him. Thanks to Ché dragging his feet, he lost several valuable minutes. Most of the students already left the building in a hurry, eager to get home. None of them had bothered visiting the changing room. Since they had been helping on the weekend there was no need to show up in the school uniform – a fact that everyone had exploited with glee. Macau himself was glad to be free of the stuffy shirt and trousers. His white sneakers, the artfully ripped jeans and oversized neon orange shirt are way more comfortable and look a thousand times cooler. The grimace on his brother’s face when seeing Macau’s choice of clothes only confirmed the fact to be true.

< Bro, you can’t do that!! It’s bad enough that I was forced to spend a whole Saturday in school ... > - Me

< Don’t leave me out of family dinner! I’m hungry ˙◠˙
> - Me
The cupcake and coffee from the upperclassmen might have been delicious, but nothing compares to his brother’s cooking. Ever since they’d taken a backburner from the family business, Vegas had immersed himself in new hobbies, cooking being on the topmost list, and the result showed.

< Aha, so you admit to your crimes!? > - Adult Disneyland

< What about being a good sport and helping your classmates because of your own free will? > - Adult Disneyland

< Broooooo ….
> - Me

< Vegas, stop. > - Brother In Law

< Don’t worry Macau, we will wait with dinner until you’re home. > - Brother In Law

< And don’t listen to Vegas, he’s just teasing. He cooked your favorite. > - Brother In Law

< Don’t ruin my fun, darling. > - Adult Disneyland

< Thanks, P’ Pete! You’re the best! > - Me

< And what about me? I’m the one cooking! > - Adult Disneyland

< I guess you’re okay too. > - Me

With a smile on his lips and a skip in his step, Macau opens the door, finally arriving at the building entrance. An azure sky beckons him outside. Eagerly, Macau heeds the voiceless call, but not even sedonds after crossing the threshold, his phone vibrates again.
Macau is already forming a response in his mind – first his brother is urging him home and then he doesn’t stop messaging? such a hypocrite. – but it’s not Vegas who is contacting him.
The message is from Ché.

< Class 2E in 5, brah > - Best Man

“What the fuck?”, Macau mumbles, frowning.

< ??? > - Me

< Meet me in classroom 2E in 5 minutes. > Best Man

Macau rolls his eyes. As if it wasn’t obvious enough that he was talking about something else.

< No shit. > - Me

< “Brah” > - Me

< What’s up? I thought you have a “date” with Kim?” – Me

Hopefully Ché wasn’t trying to adapt his slang – again. The last time his cousin had invited him to some abstract club owned by some popular guys from the music scene, Chè had wanted to practice his small-talk skills with Macau first. “To better blend in” – Ché’s words, not Macau’s.
The whole thing had been an experience, to say the least. A fever dream Macau didn’t wish to relive, if possible.
Macau doesn’t have to wait long for Ché’s response. In that department, his best friend was exactly like his brother. None of them let him wait for long when they were texting. The same couldn’t be said for Macau himself, who sometimes didn’t respond for a complete week, if he was in a mood. But whatever. Opposites attract, right?
A new flock of messages comes through when Macau still doesn’t respond.

< I need to tell you something. > - Best Man

< Come to the classroom! > - Best Man

< It’s important … > - Best Man

Immediately worried, Macau shoots an answer back.

< What’s wrong? Is it Kim? Did my cousin do something? Did he ditch you? > - Me

< I swear to god, if he ditched you, then there will be hell to pay! I’ll drive to his apartment right now!!! > - Me

Ché had been talking about his cousin even before the two started dating, constantly praising him to heaven. His best friend was way too good for Kim. Should he actually have cancelled their date, then his revenge would be swift and sweet, that’s for sure. He would even sacrifice family dinner if he had to.
This time, Ché’s answer comes even faster.

< NO! > - Best Man

< Don’t worry, it’s nothing like that! > - Best Man

< It’s about my brother. > - Best Man

Confused, Macau tilts his head, squinting at the phone screen.

< Ooookay …? > - Me

< What about your brother? > - Me

< I have a message from him. > - Best Man

And the mystery continues. Thousand questions, no answers. Great.

< What message?? > - Me

Macau couldn’t remember for the life of him, when he’d talked the last time to Porsche. The guy might be Ché’s older brother and the new head of the minor family, but he wasn’t exactly on good terms with him – or rather Vegas. But hey, the brothers were a unit and if Vegas didn’t want to spend more time than absolutely necessary with Porsche, then he would do the same. So Ché saying that he had a message from Porsche for him was more than weird. Maybe it was about Vegas? But why not come directly to him?

< It’s better if I tell you in person. > - Best Man

< Since when are you so cryptic, Ché? > - Me

< Macau, please just come to class … my brother will kill me otherwise! > - Me

My brother will kill me if I don’t hurry home, Macau thinks, but whatever. Five more minutes wouldn’t hurt anyone. And if the matter was so important for Ché, then he didn’t have a choice anyway.

< omw > - Me

Macau shoots a last glance outside, but he spots neither his bodyguard nor driver. Perfect. There’s a high chance, that Vegas had ordered the two men do bring Macau straight home after leaving school. If they saw him now, he could forget his little detour. But luck seemed to be on his side, at least for now.

“Young Master.”
Or not.
With a guilty smile Macau turns around, coming face to face with the tall figure of his driver. With ice blue eyes framed by white-blond hair, the man could have easily been mistaken for an actor.
“P’ Sasa … uh, what are you doing here?”, he asks nervously, internally wincing.
“Waiting for you, so that we can drive home.”, his chauffeur replies in a calm voice.
“Uh, yeah. Right. I knew that.”, Macau tugs at the hemline of his shirt, nodding. “I was just about to look for you.”
P’ Sasa raises an eyebrow.
“Inside the building?”
“Ah … you got me there.”, Macau’s shoulders slump. Since the cat is already out of the bag, he doesn’t see the point in lying. “My friend needs something from me, he’s waiting inside.”
“Your brother sent me a message.”, P’ Sasa responds. “He wants us to drive home without another detour.”
“I knew it!”, Macau hisses.
Why is his brother such a damn control freak? Macau already promised that he would return immediately, there was no need to directly contact his driver and bodyguard.
Another glance at the patiently waiting chauffeur has him wincing.
Okay, maybe his brother has a point after all.Still, he was not about to leave Ché in the dust.
“Please, P’ Sasa. Just five minutes!”, he begs the driver. “I’ll promise to hurry up!”
For a moment his driver says nothing, then sighs.
“As you wish, Young Master.”
Macau makes a jump of joy, grinning at the man.
“You’re the best, P’ Sasa!”, he says, already taking a step towards the door. “And don’t worry about my brother, once I’m done with him you’ll even get a raise. I promise!”
If necessary, he would even use his own savings! Loyalty must be rewarded.
The words seem to surprise the man.
“Young Master …”
Macau tilts his head in question.
“Yes?”

P’ Sasa clenches his jaw, not saying anything. An unidentifiably look crosses his face.
“Is it because of P’ Anorak?”, Macau suggests. “I won’t mention it to him. It will be our little secret.”
The anonymity between Macau’s bodyguard and driver was an open secret. It honestly surprised him, that Vegas hadn’t fired one of them yet. His brother had mentioned often enough, that the bond between employees was as important as the one between workers and their chiefs.
At the mention of the bodyguard, the expression on P’ Sasa’s face changes. It’s as if someone had pulled the blinds shut on a window. From one second to the next, the chauffeur dons his calm appearance again.
“It’s nothing, Young Master.”, the man says. “I’ll wait here for your return.”
“Okay …”, Macau slowly nods. For a moment, he thinks about asking more questions, but ultimately he decides against it. He’s late as it is – both Ché and his brother are waiting. He doesn’t have time to stick his nose into his chauffeur’s business. Besides, he doubts that he can do anything about the tense relationship between the bodyguard and driver.
“See you in a minute!”
Macau turns around, heading back into the building.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

With a huff, Macau enters class 2E. The little sprint had been more exhausting than anticipated. Couldn't Ché have chosen a different room, one that wasn't on the other side of the building? At least there are no witnesses for his sorry state, well aside from Ché.
Speaking of Ché …
Confused, Macau glances around, nowhere spotting his friend.
“Did I get the room number wrong?”, he mumbles, walking deeper inside. Warm sunlight streams through the wide windows, illuminating the room in a bright glow. There are drawings on the walls and a white number on the chalkboard. 2E.
Yeah, it’s definitely the right classroom.It’s just Ché who’s missing.
Sighing, Macau makes a move to pull out his phone.
The door slums shut with a loud noise. Startled, Macau whirls around.Words are already streaming out of his mouth, partly accusatory, partly amused.
“Finally! So, what did you want to talk about …?”
Macau trails of, leaving the question hanging in the air.
“You’re not Ché.”, Macau mumbles embarrased, staring at the man in front of the now closed door.With a serene smile, the stranger returns his gaze. He doesn’t make a move, standing still, his posture relaxed.
“Hello Macau.”
The voice of the man sounds nice. Soothing. Calm.
For Macau, everything about him seems wrong.
Slowly, confusion turns into unease.
Macau gives the stranger a quick once-over. Brown hair, grey eyes, pale skin. There is nothing remarkable about the man. Macau cannot say for the life of him if they’d met before. The man could be someone from his old life, someone he’d met during one of his father’s fancy parties he was forced to attend. Or he could be a random stranger from the street, who he’d passed during one of his many trips. He doesn’t know. The lack of knowledge doesn’t settle well with him.
His instincts take over.
With a speed surprising even himself, Macau pulls out the pocketknife he’d been carrying the whole day. The stranger raises an eyebrow, but otherwise doesn’t respond, once again silent. Even now, faced with the threat of the knife, the serene smile doesn’t leave the man’s face.
Macau swallows, his throat feeling uncomfortably tight.
“Get out of my way.”, he demands, jerking his chin towards the door.
His phone suddenly weighs impossibly heavy in his pockets, but Macau doesn’t dare pull it out. He’s not sure if he would be able to dial his brother’s number without glancing down and there’s no way in hell he’ll remove his gaze from the stranger. Calling help is not an option, he needs another means of escape.
Even though every nerve in his body is screaming against it, Macau takes a step closer to the man. He hopes the slight twitching of his fingers, with which he holds the weapon, will not be noticed by the stranger.
At long last, there’s a reaction.The man raises his hands in surrender.
Macau flinches back and hates himself for it.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
Never show weakness, that was the first rule his father had taught him – and here he was, unable to handle a single, middle-aged guy wearing a cheap suit.
“Are you not even going to ask who I am?”, the stranger asks, sounding oddly disappointment.
Macau shakes his head.
“Don’t care.”, he whispers, taking a step forward. When nothing happens, he risks another step. “Back off, I’m leaving.”
The man sighs. Slowly, he lowers his hands, until they are hanging by his side. To Macau’s chagrin, he doesn’t move aside, but at least he doesn’t try something crazy.
“You know.”, the man says almost absently, his gaze far-away. “You brother didn’t care either.”
The words cause Macau to bristle. He should have known that this was not about him, but his brother. During the last few years, Vegas had made a lot of enemies and his enemies were Macau’s enemies by default. He was his brother’s weakness, his sore spot. The one single thing he tried to protect at all costs.
Because Macau is too weak to look after himself.
The thought carries a hint of bitterness, but there is no denying the truth. Why else would Vegas have continued to hire men for his protection, even after leaving the Second Household to Porsche? It’s been over a year since the fateful incident, but Macau still couldn’t go to the supermarket without a protective detail. Don’t even get him started on school!
That left another question – where are his bodyguards?
Macau hadn’t seen P' Anruak for several hours. The last time he had seen the man was during his errand with P' Ice. His bodyguard had been lurking around in the background, while they'd accepted the order from the delivery guy. As for P' Sasa ... his driver already knew about his little detour. Shouldn't he have realized by now that something was wrong? Why hasn't he started looking for Macau yet?
Once Vegas hears about this, their employees career will be as good as over.
An unexpected wave of longing hits Macau’s chest at the thought of his brother. At the moment, he wants nothing more than for Vegas to walk through the door – his protective shadow. With his brother by his side, he wouldn’t have to be scared of anything.
“Still not asking any questions?”, an overly loud sigh pulls him back into reality. Headshaking, the man leans back against the doorframe. He crosses his slims arms over his chest, effectively wrinkling his suit. “Unsurprising, but disappointing all the same.”
Great, now he’s blocking the exit even more …
“Drop the knife, Macau.”, the man demands softly. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to talk.”
Macau scoffs. Does the guy take him for an idiot?
“Don’t tell me people actually fall for that?!”
The mocking response earns him another sigh.
“Macau …”, he repeats his name, the reprimand clear in his tone.
Through narrowed eyes, Macau holds the man’s gaze.
“Don’t speak to me like that. I don’t even know you.”
The stranger tilts his head, regarding him strangely.
“But you will.”, he says.
Macau doesn’t like the man’s statement at all. If it was up to him, the two of them would never see each other again after today. Now, if he could only get out of the classroom and to the parking lot. The guy might have managed to sneak unnoticed into the school, but if Macau was once in the presence of his bodyguards, he wouldn’t have a chance for any funny business. Maybe he should start screaming for help … but would they hear him? It was quite a bit from the entrance to the second floor.
“My, my, what a distrusting figure you are.”, the man continues, oblivious to the thoughts racing through his mind. “No matter, we still have some time to get to know each other better.”
Macau grits his teeth. That doesn’t sound ominous at all …
“Do you realize how creepy that sounds?”, Macau snidely asks, putting his focus back on the man. “Don’t tell me you’re one of these creepy fucks going after kids half their age? That’s disgusting.”
The stranger frowns.
“This isn’t funny.”
“Never said it was.”
Macau risks a quick glance at the door.The notion doesn’t escape the man’s notice.
“Oh Macau.”, he says. “Haven’t you realized yet?”
An uneasy feel spreads in Macau’s chest.
“Realized what?”
“Your bodyguard won’t come and neither will your brother.”, the stranger gets straight to the point. “It’s just you and me.”
"As for your driver, well ...", with a shrug, the man continues. His words cut through all of Macau’s hopes, dashing them into nothingness. "I don't think I need to spell it out loud."
Macau’s heart plummets, his shoulders dropping.
This whole thing had been a set-up. A trap.And like a fool, he’d fallen for it.
He’s such a damn idiot. There’d been so many hints – the absence of his bodyguard, his driver’s lack of concern about disobeying Vegas' orders, Ché’s weird message, which was obviously sent by the stranger.
That damn stranger …
No wonder the man had allowed him to stall for time! It’s because he knew from the start that it wouldn’t change the outcome of the situation. The other students already left the building and none of the teachers had been around from the start. His bodyguard is gone – probably dead – and his driver apparently a bloody traitor.
Macau is all alone.
“You can scream if you want. You might feel better afterwards.”, the man continues, voice unnervingly calm. “There’s no one here who will hear you, so I have nothing against it.”
For a moment, the idea seems more than tempting.
Why should he believe the stranger’s words? He might be lying.His bodyguard could be alive and looking for him right now.Or Ché could be around and searching for his missing phone.Or maybe P' Sasa is a good guy after all and trying to rescue him.
Or … or ...
Macau grits his teeth, more than aware that he’s grasping at straws.
“Ready to give in now?”
The man holds his hand out invitingly, nodding towards the knife in Macau’s hands.He follows the gaze downwards. He hadn’t even realized, that he’d lowered his weapon.
"Come on. Let's get this over with. We wasted enough time as it is."
A low laugh escapes Macau’s lips, surprising both him and the stranger. The conceited attitude of the man suddenly reminds him of his father. This arrogance, this sureness that every demand will be met without resistance.
Fuck this asshole.
Fuck everything.
Never again would he allow someone to control his life just like that.
“I’m outta here.”, Macau whispers and the stranger’s eyes narrow.
His mouth opens, but before he can mutter a single word, Macau jumps into action. With his right hand he lashes upwards. A shrill shout cuts through the silence – a sound of unfiltered surprise and pain. The man pulls back, clutching his injured hand against his chest. Macau ignores it. Ignores the red staining his knife, the stranger’s skin, his gaze.
He storms past the man and towards the door, only to be immediately be pulled back by his foot. The stranger has grabbed him by the ankle, trying to halt his movements. Macau’s instincts go haywire. Without thinking too much about it, he seizes the chair next to him and shoves it roughly backwards, right at the man. The collision forces him to let go.
While the man is grabbling with the wooden chair, Macau makes another dash for the door.
He pulls it open and runs straight into a hard chest.
Startled, Macau bounces back into the classroom. A rough, calloused arm forces him onto the floor. His knife is knocked out of his hands.
The man, the second stranger – and how could he have been so stupid and not think about this? it’s exactly as Vegas had said, there are always two men. how could he forget? – doesn’t care about his struggles in the slightest.
Tights arm clamp around his frame, restricting his movements.
Cursing, Macau begins to trash, his movements wild and furious. All the boxing techniques P’Pete had shown him during their lessons are gone from his mind.
The fight, if it can even be called that, as one-sided as it is, is pointless.
Macau is terribly outmatched.
Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see movement.It’s the first man, returning the fallen chair back to the desk.
“Let me go, asshole!”, Macau hisses, kicking his legs out. Unimpressed, the second stranger tightens his grip. It’s like hitting boulders. His heartbeat gains speed.
“I told you Macau. Struggling is pointless.”
The words are spoken right next to his ears in a by now familiar voice, soft and without any anger.Macau's breath hitches. He can feel tears threatening to spill from his eyes, so he forces them shut.
This wasn’t how his day was supposed to go.
He should be home by now.
With Pete.

With Vegas.

Not here, trapped by two strangers who wanted to do god knows what with him.
“You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”, he finally whispers, opening his eyes. “My brother will come after you for this.”
The man is returning his glare without blinking.If Macau didn’t know any better, he would say the man almost looks sad.
“I’m counting on it.”
Not waiting for a response, the stranger nods towards his associate, the man who’s holding Macau hostage. Alarmed, Macau stiffens. The man tightens his grip, his arms like an unmovable band of iron. Immediately, Macau begins struggling anew, his fight or flight mode in overdrive. But no matter how hard he kicks at the man, there’s no chance of escape.
In a last effort, he opens his mouth to scream for help. Instantly, a rough hand clamps over his lips, leaving him no other choice but to breathe through his nose. His panicked whimpers are silenced by warm skin.
Desperately, Macau shakes his head in a hopeless effort to dislodge the man, but aside from a loud huff, there is no reaction. He is putting everything he has in the fight, but he doesn’t stand a chance against the stranger. Slowly but surely, he can feel himself tiring out.
Without warning, the stranger shifts his grip, his big hand covering both his nose and his mouth.
Macau cannot breathe.
His throat tightens and his eyes water. Panic overwhelms him, dark spots flooding in his vision.
There’s no air. He can’t breathe. There’s no air. He can’t breathe. There’s no air.
He can’t breathe, hecannotbreathe, h e c a n n o t b r e a t h e

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.

.

.

.

“Was that really necessary?”, he asks, gazing at the unconscious form on the ground.

In his sleep, Macau Theerapanyakul looks unbearably young.

“The kid almost gutted you with his knife.”, his associate answers. “I didn’t even give him a bruise.”

“Don’t exaggerate. He barely nicked me.”, he rolls his eyes and clenches his hand. True to his word, he doesn’t feel more than a light sting. “You know I hate unnecessary violence.”

„You know what I hate?”, his partner responds. “Teenagers.”

He nods towards the kid.

“Just look at him. A neon orange shirt, really? It’s like he knew about our plan and wanted to make it as hard as fucking possible. Hopefully no one sees us when we carry him outside. A fucking neon orange shirt, man. Fucking unbelievable.”

He drowns the other man’s words out, already more than used to his curse-filled ramblings.But admittedly, he got a point. It was harder than expected to lure the kid into the classroom. Unfamiliar with the slang of the youth, it had taken a bit of an effort from his side.

Speaking of youth …

“Here.”, he hands his associate a black device. “Return Porsché Kittisawat’s phone before the boy realizes that it’s missing. I’ll keep watch until then.”

Without complaining, the other man heeds his orders.

Behind him, the door falls close almost silently.

The sound reminds him of a start signal.

Anticipation stirs in his chest.

“Soon, brother.”, his gaze returns to the unconscious kid on the ground. “Soon you will have your vengeance.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

CHAPTER TWO:

There’s a body stuffed into the dumpster.
The corpse – and it clearly is a corpse and not some drunken fool, trying to get some sleep in a pile of trash – looks fresh. There’s a red line on the man’s neck, his throat cleanly slit. There are no unnecessary bruises or other marks of injury. It’s the work of a professional.
But what professional killer would dispose of a body on school properties? And in a dumpster no less?
Kim throws a quick glance over his shoulder. From his vintage point he can see both the school entrance and bus stop. By now only some stragglers are left, loitering around.
He’d arrived sooner than agreed with Ché. Not wanting to deal with the crowd of students streaming out of the building (and their endless questions and demands to get a photo with his famous persona, WIK – something he’d found endearing with Ché, but is more than annoying coming from everybody else), he quickly disappeared towards the back entrance, past the schoolyard and a row of garbage cans purposefully placed in a narrow alley between the buildings.
Then, call it paranoia or a sixth sense, he’d spotted the body – or rather the arm peeking out between the metal lid and bin, hanging there motionless. For someone like him, even such a small detail was hard to miss. Without hesitating, he’d opened the dumpster and voila!
Intrigued, Kim decides to take a closer look.
Despite the suit, the man’s appearance doesn’t really scream “I’m a teacher!”. His edges are a tad too rough, the lines on his face – even in death – a bit too hard. He has the aura of a seasoned fighter instead of a nurturing tutor. Another red flag? The pompous tiger tattoo, spreading out from the men’s shoulder to his neck, in midnight black ink. A decent teacher would at least try to hide the mark, but the man’s shirt collar is wide open, though that might be on account of the attacker.
Kim had already done a background check on all members of the faculty (teachers and students alike) and the lifeless face currently staring at him hadn’t been on the list. That had been more than a year ago, once the dispute between the families had been over and dealt with. He’d been overly wary in the beginning. With Porsche taking over the Minor Estate, business had been rough. The Kittisawat brothers had gained more enemies in one night than others would have after living dozens of lifetimes. So Kim had stood watch, making sure nothing would happen to the younger brother, even though Ché hadn’t even been speaking to him at that time.

Then, after months of groveling (or making an effort, as his head-bodyguard liked to call it) things had gotten serious with Ché and Kim’s controlling tendencies … well, they’d gotten a bit out of hand, so to say.
Instructing Big to keep an eye on all of the teachers and staff members had been one of the more harmless actions he’d taken. And even if someone would complain, why should he care?
He was Kim Theerapanyakul and he followed no orders.
As long as he lived, he wouldn’t allow someone to hurt Ché again.
The corpse in the dumpster was a problem, a potential risk to Chè’s life.Being a Kittisawat, being Porsche’s younger brother – the new, established leader of the Minor Family – made him the likeliest target for any strange occurrences on school ground.
There are several options for Kim to take.He goes through them in the blink of an eye.
First, he could start his own investigation and take an even closer look at the crime scene. There had to be some hints about the identities of both victim and attacker.
Second, he could call Big for back-up and to clean up the mess.
Third, he could go and find Ché.
Kim was no amateur, so he decided to do all of these things, but priorities first.
He spins on his heels and runs.
There’s a killer on the loose and Ché is still inside the school – alone.
It takes him not even fifteen seconds until he arrives at the building entrance.
.
.
.
.
.
Ché could die of anticipation.
His hands are trembling with excitement, something he’s unable to stop no matter how hard he tries.
In minutes he would meet up with Kim (his boyfriend!). They would finally go on their date. Ché could already see it in his mind – the two of them, walking hand in hand along the pier, gazing lovingly at each other. Ché would say something funny and classy and then Kim would laugh, smitten with him. He would be impressed by the incredible knowledge of his wonderful boyfriend. Ché had done his homework and stayed up the whole night to gather more information about all pieces displayed at the art exhibition Kim wanted to show him. He would downplay it of course and only giggle shyly, ever the modest boyfriend. And then – at the pier – by sundown!!! – they would kiss. It would be like a fairytale with Ché as the protagonist. And Kim his prince charming, no, not prince – King Charming, the handsomest person to ever live, who had only eyes for him.
Ahhhh …only thinking about it makes Ché sigh dreamily.
Now, if he could only find his stupid phone …
Once their lunch break (gracefully sponsored by P’Ice) was over, Ché had purposively left it together with his other stuff in the changing room. Because he just knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop glancing at the thing every freaking minute, waiting for another message from Kim. He didn’t want the other students to complain, he’d agreed to help them after all. He also wanted to avoid getting teased by Macau. His friend would surely mock him the whole day, should he find out about the upcoming date. Especially since the last one turned out to be a disaster, which was, to be honest, his own fault.
After getting invited by Kim to some high-end club, he’d been a nervous wreck. Confused and thrilled at the same time, he’d gotten the bright idea to prepare himself to meet the owners, who were by some funny coincidence also Kim’s friends. Well, acquaintances, not friends – according to Kim at least. But it didn’t matter, he still wanted to make a good impression. Kim shouldn’t be embarrassed by him. He was still a newbie after all, a “normal” student and not a popular and exclaimed musician like Kim himself. So like a good boyfriend he’d gotten help from Macau, who actually knew how to navigate the world of the elite; the rich, the influential, the powerful.
Too bad that Macau wasn’t to keen on the idea of helping him out. Only after buying him several of his favorite chocolate bars – an incredibly expensive brand, that burned out almost all of his hard earned pocket money – and the promise of leaving him out of future dates with Kim, did he agree – and he didn’t lose his displeased demeanor the whole time.
Macau’s coaching was futile in the end.
Yes, he’d given him some tips about the right clothes and speaking patterns as well as a surprisingly heartfelt pep talk – never let them look down on you! who cares if they are rich enough to rent a whole amusement park for a week? Nowadays you could do the same! Besides, just because they grew up with money doesn’t mean they are a better person than you Ché! And to be honest, you don’t have to worry about anything away. As long as my cousin is with you, they won’t dare to talk badly about you. Kim’s got quite the reputation. – but promptly after entering the club, he’d gotten so overwhelmed, he started hyperventilating and hid in the toilets. It had taken Kim almost thirty minutes of reassuring for Ché to calm down. After, they’d immediately left the club without meeting Kim’s associates-slash-friends. Kim had promised Ché that he wasn’t annoyed in the least, but he still felt bad about it.
This time, he wouldn’t allow anyone or anything to wreck the date – especially himself!
Unfortunately, his phone didn’t magically appear out of thin air, despite his encouraging mental speech.
That’s what he got for being mindful of others.He would never part ways with his phone again.Never!
Groaning, Ché sinks onto the closest bench and buries his head into his hands.
“Why does this always happen to me?”, he murmurs dejectedly, combing his fingers through his hair – only to halt immediately. Panicked he jumps upwards and runs straight up to the mirror next to the door. Wide blown eyes stare right back at him.
“Oh my god, my hair! No … !!!”
He’s already late, thanks to changing his outfit and searching for his phone. He doesn’t have time to style his hair a second time – combing through the messy locks until he looked somewhat presentable had taken ages! – not that it had done much, let’s be real. Everyone would look like a scarecrow next to Kim.
“P’ Kim …”, Ché mumbles, his lips unwittingly forming into a bright smile when thinking of his boyfriend.
… his perfect, perfect boyfriend who’s probably already fuming while waiting for him.
“Ah, stop it Ché!”, he reprimands himself, pinching his cheeks. The pain eases some of his nerves, thankfully. “You’ve already wasted enough time as it is. Let’s find the phone and then you’ll finally see Kim!”
His hair has been a lost cause from the start. He can already see some strands escaping and reverting back to their original, curly state. What a disaster.
“Ok … if I was my phone, where would I hide?”, Ché mumbles, suspiciously looking around. It’s not in his bag and not in his locker. He’d even searched beneath all benches in case it fell on the floor without him noticing – but nothing.
If someone was there he could have borrowed a phone and called himself, but that was impossible since he had waited until everyone had left before going to the locker room.
Ché lets out another pitiful sigh.
“Okay, I give up.”, head-shaking, he grabs his backpack and walks outside.
He has no other choice. He’ll meet up with Kim and explain the situation. Kim is way smarter than he lets on. For him it will be child’s play to locate the missing phone. Ché had seen the stacks of detective novels and movies his boyfriend hoarded in his loft like they were pure gold. Kim didn’t like it when someone mentioned them, for some reason he was embarrassed about his hobby, but Ché found it endearing.
If he thinks more about it, then it’s actually a win-win situation. Ché is going to see an embarrassed Kim and he will get his phone back – which he desperately needs for their date! There’s no chance in hell he will let the evening go without taking dozens of photos of his boyfriend. He also wants some of them together – as a couple! – but Kim is the priority.
Already thinking about all the cute pictures he will have by the end of their date, he turns around the corner and runs straight into his boyfriend.
His boyfriend – who is staring at him through wide eyes and breathing heavily, as if he’d just run a marathon and Ché’s the finish line.
“What the … ? Kim?!”
A surprised shout leaves his lips as muscular arms pull him into a firm chest. Confused but pleased at the same time, he glances upwards. Kim’s breathing has adjusted by now, there is no sign of exhaustion left on his face.
… but Ché can still feel his heart racing against his chest.
Kim, who’s always collected and calm, no matter how dreadful the situation looks, is panicking.
.
.
.
.
.
.
It’s strange how peaceful he feels, how relieved, while holding Ché in his arms. His father would turn in his grave, should he see him now. Kim knows his lack of attachments had been one of the many characteristics Korn Theerapanyakul had adored about him. It was yet another thing that made him a better heir than his brothers. Superior.
Until the end, he had not understood that Kim was a double-edged sword, one that would always end up cutting his father.
Kim will always choose his own path, not bending to the will and rules of others.He wouldn’t change track now – even out of respect for the deceased head of the family.
“Earth to Kim!? What happened? Are you okay?”
Ché’s voice pierces through his thoughts like sunlight through a dark cloud.
He can feel his heartbeat slow down.Within seconds, he’s absolutely calm again.
Ché’s here – unhurt. The killer hasn’t beaten him to his boyfriend. Maybe Ché hadn’t been the target at all. Kim had worried for nothing. Unusual, but intriguing. Ever since meeting the other boy, he’d started experiencing a range of emotions that had been out of reach before.
“Don’t worry about me.”, Kim says, loosening his grip without actually letting go. He doesn’t necessarily need the physical contact, but he wants it anyway. “I’m fine.”
„You don’t look fine, P’ … “, Ché mumbles, pouting cutely.
Kim suppresses the urge to kiss it way. He can feel the smile growing on his lips and shakes his head, fondly glancing at the boy.
„So …?“
Kim raises an eyebrow, repeating the word.
“So?”
Ché lets out an annoyed huff, crossing his arms over his chest. The backpack he’d been carrying falls unceremoniously to the ground, thanks to the sudden movement. Smirking, Kim takes the object and throws it over his own shoulder, ignoring Ché’s shout of protest.
“P’ Kim! Stop distracting me.”, his boyfriend demands. “Tell me what happened. You obviously ran the whole way here! Why?”
“First of all, I didn’t try to distract you.”, Kim answers, truthfully. “Second, you are not going to like this, but we’ll have to postpone our date. I’m sorry.”
To his surprise, Ché doesn’t seem too disappointed about this – or at least a lot less than Kim had anticipated. His boyfriend could be quite dramatic when he wanted to be, always whining about the littlest things. The dramatic flair seems to be a common trait in the families. First rank was obviously his oldest brother, Tankhun, then came his brat of a cousin, Macau, closely followed by Ché. Even Kinn could be quite melodramatic when Porsche was involved and vice versa. He didn’t even want to start talking about Vegas – presenting a bouquet of black roses to his lover while being drenched from head to toe in blood? Dramatic didn’t describe half of it. It seems like the only one with a cool head is Kim himself – the exception to the rule.
“Really?”, Kim asks, now being the one irked. Ché was taking this a bit too well for his liking.
“Duh!”, Ché looks at him like he’s the one being stupid. “I’m not going anywhere with you, if you’re not feeling well, P’ Kim. Now tell me what happened so that I can help you!”
Immediately all irritation is gone and instead a strange feeling emerges in Kim’s chest which he forcefully pushes down.
This kid …
He clears his throat.
“There’s nothing you can do to help, Ché.”, Kim finally answers. “Besides going home. It’s not safe to be here at the moment.”
Wide-eyed, Ché stares at him. His hands are no longer crossed defensively over his chest, instead he is gripping Kim’s upper arms, trembling slightly.
“So something did happen – something serious, right? Does it involve the families? Is that why you don’t want me to be outside?”, questions upon questions start flooding from Ché’s lips. Kim doesn’t get the chance to respond to a single one before his boyfriend starts making his own assumptions. “Please don’t tell me that you’ll put another curfew on us, last time was bad enough. Besides, Macau didn’t breathe a word to me about this and he usually tells me everything. P’ Vegas would surely have told Macau to stay home as well if it’s dangerous for us. Macau’s always complaining about how overprotective his brother is. That doesn’t make sense, unless –”
Kim narrows his eyes, honing in on the words like a shark on blood in water.
“Macau is here?”
The question comes out sharper than intended.Thankfully Ché doesn’t flinch back, instead he looks oddly guilty.
“Uh … yes, P’. He also helped with the theatre preparations. Sorry for not telling you …”, he mumbles, avoiding his gaze. “I didn’t want to dampen the mood for our date, since you guys are always fighting when you pick me up. I didn’t want that to happen today ...”
Kim’s thoughts start swirling.Slowly but surely a picture is forming in his head.
“This changes everything.”, he whispers.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not you, Ché.”, Kim responds, glancing down at his boyfriend. “It’s Macau.”
The attacker. The corpse.
They had nothing to do with Ché or Porsche, the current head of the Minor Family. It’s the former one that matters. Macau. Vegas. One of his cousins was the target – maybe even Pete, Vegas’ current lover and Tankhun’s former bodyguard.
But why? It’s been over a year since the three left the family business. Sure, they still got money and a certain degree of influence, but Vegas’ time as Devil of the Theerpanyakul Family was over. He was no longer the heir, the future head of the Minor Estate. Whoever was behind the attack couldn’t possibly be one of their current rivals. This had to be an old grudge. Or whoever responsible acted on outdated information, though that was less likely.
So many options. So many mysteries.A surge of excitement spreads through Kim’s chest.It’s been a while since he had someone to hunt; secrets to uncover.
“I don’t get it, P’ Kim.”, Ché’s voice pulls him back into reality. “What happened? And what’s got Macau to do with it? Can you please explain?”
An explanation, yes. That’s what they needed right now.And Kim knew exactly where to get it.
“Come on, Ché.”, he says, gently pulling the boy towards the building entrance – only to get shoved off almost immediately. With a fierce glare – similar to a cat in front of a lion – Ché stares up at him.
“I’m not going anywhere with you unless you tell me what’s going on!”, Ché says, ever the stubborn one. With a pointed look he presses his index finger into Kim’s chest. “And don’t you dare lie to me. You know that I hate lying.”
Kim does know. Back then, his lies had been the reason for losing Ché. His lies had caused the sunlight to vanish from his life, leaving only a gray world behind. Dull and somber. Kim hadn’t realized how miserable his life had been until he’d almost lost Ché.
Never again.
No matter how ugly the truth was, Kim was done keeping secrets if their mere existence meant Ché might walk out on him – on them. Now he only had to show it somehow, to make Ché believe – that he stood to his words, his promise.
“Do you trust me?”, he asks, serious.
“Of course, Kim.”, Ché answers, grabbing his outstretched hand.
Kim’s heart stutters.
There hadn’t even been a second of hesitation.
“I’m going to show you something, Ché, just … don’t freak out, okay?”
His boyfriend nods, a determined glint in his eyes.
“You can count on me, P’ Kim!”
.
.
.
.
.
“Oh my god! Oh my god! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod …”
Ché peeks out from behind his hands, but the sight doesn’t change.He whirls back around to Kim, who is watching him partly amused, partly worried.
“P’ Kim! That’s a corpse!”, he tells his boyfriend, who’s leaning against the wall – the calm in the storm once more. A true embodiment of elegance and tranquility. Heck, Kim doesn’t even bother to glance in the direction of the dumpster. The dumpster with a body in it!! “There’s a corpse in the garbage bin! In our school! Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god …”
His gaze wanders from his boyfriend to the cursed dumpster and back again, but aside from a raised eyebrow he doesn’t get a reaction to his (justified!) freak-out.
“This doesn’t face you in the slightest, does it?”, Ché asks, only to immediately shake his head, answering his own question. Through narrowed slits he stares at Kim, accusingly.
“Don’t answer, P’. For a moment, I forgot who I am talking to.”
“Oh? And who’s that?”, Kim wants to know.
There’s a light smirk on his face and a dangerous glint in his eyes.Ché could have fainted on the spot.
P’ Kim is just … too cool!
And Ché is apparently wrong in the head! How can he obsess about his perfect boyfriend while there’s a dead body lying next to them? Does his brother have the same problems with P’ Kinn? Was this normal behavior when one was part of the mafia business?
Ché isn’t sure he wants to find out.
“You know … I’m not sure if you are taking this better or worse than I thought.”
Confused, Ché stares at Kim.
“You’re freaking out, but you haven’t fainted yet. I guess that’s a win.”
Ché gasps for air. Is he serious??Once again he points at the dead body.
“There’s a corpse in the garbage bin, P’ Kim.”, he wails, outraged. “I wouldn’t call that a normal situation.”
Looking closely, he’s clearly handling the situation quite well!There was no reason for P’ Kim to bully him like that!
“It’s almost funny …”, Kim continues, stroking his chin. There’s a strange look on his face. Immediately on high alert, Ché stares at his boyfriend. What ridiculous nonsense was his supposedly perfect boyfriend to spout now? “Apparently seeing a dead body is less frightening than going on a date with your boyfriend.”
Boom – hook, line and sinker.
“P’ Kim!!!”, Ché hisses, his cheeks turning a dark red. “Shut up!”
He turns around, hiding his blushing face from his boyfriend.

Oh god, this is so embarrassing …

After a small eternity he has enough courage to turn around again. Kim is already looking at him, but the teasing smirk has vanished from his face. There’s only a soft smile left.
Ché can feel his insides melt.
So that’s why Kim was behaving like that – he wanted to lighten the mood. To distract him from the gritty situation they are in; the dead body next to them.
He had the most perfect boyfriend ever – period!
Touched, Ché grabs Kim’s hand, squeezing it.
“Thanks, P’ Kim.”, he says. Kim almost seems surprised by the words. “You know, for bringing me here and not keeping another secret from me.”
“I promised.”
Ché swallows.
“Yeah.”
Through wide eyes, Ché stares at Kim – or rather his lips.

From a scale 1 to 100, how strange would it be to kiss his boyfriend right now?

There is a corpse nearby … but just look at him!

Just when Ché is about to take the final step – he was going to do it, he was going to kiss P’ Kim! Just a small smooch, a short peck on the lips, nothing else, honestly …
– someone clears their throat behind them. With a startled shriek, Ché pulls back and comes face to face with the head-bodyguard of his boyfriend.
“Sorry to disrupt your moment.”, Big says while pointing at his phone. “But you called?”
“P’ Big!”, Ché greets the man with a clipped laugh, nervously clutching at the neckline of his shirt. Is it hot here? He shoots a look at Kim, a clear request for help, but his boyfriend doesn’t react at all. The traitor isn’t even surprised by the bodyguard’s sudden appearance.
“Why didn’t you say that he’s here?”, he hisses at Kim.
His boyfriend ignores the question and instead turns to his bodyguard.
“You’re late.”
“Wait, what? You called him? When did that happen?”, Ché wonders aloud and this time he even gets an answer.
“While you were having your mini freak-out.”, Kim says, still facing Big and waiting for a response from the other man.
“I’m on vacation.”, the dark-haired bodyguard finally answers.
Hearing that, Ché takes another glance at the man. Big is indeed wearing more outlandish clothes than usual. Instead of donning his midnight black suit he’s walking around in ripped jeans and a hoodie – a much more comfortable fit than the bodyguard’s standard attire. His hair is pulled back into a messy bun, some strands escaping and artfully framing his face. The sight makes Ché inwardly groan. Why couldn’t he look like that – cool without even trying?
“Consider it cancelled.”, Kim tells his bodyguard, nodding towards the dumpsters. “There’s work to do.”
“Gee thanks.”, Big replies, sarcastic. “It’s not like I already paid the hotel in advance.”
Another justified reaction if you ask Ché. But Kim was surely only making a joke, right? He wouldn’t just call off his most trusted bodyguard’s vacation like that … right? He glances at Kim, but his boyfriend actually seems to be serious about this.
“If you want I can shorten your pay.”, Kim says, unimpressed. “Then you’ll have a real reason to complain.”
“You’re the worst.”, Big shoots back, but walks past them and deeper into the alley. The bodyguard pulls a pair of white gloves out of his hoodie pockets – is he always carrying gloves around? To not leave any tracks on possible crime scenes? A disturbing idea … – and puts them on, all the while staring at the cursed dumpster. With a smooth movement, he completely pulls the lid back, revealing the body in its full glory. “So, what do we have here …?”
The bodyguard trails off, then lets out a string of curses – his body going rigid.
“Fuck, that’s Macau’s bodyguard.”, Big says, turning around.
“That’s what I thought.”, Kim mumbles next to him.
Wait, what?
Ché walks up to the dumpster, his fear forgotten for the moment. He risks a glance at the dead man, but he doesn’t seem familiar at all. It’s sobering and shameful at the same time. Macau’s always running around with a bodyguard trailing behind, but no matter how much they meet up, Ché hadn’t paid close enough attention to be able to identify the man by face. It was almost as if he hadn't perceived the man as a real person till now.
“Where’s the kid?”
Big’s question instantly banishes all worries about the nameless and faceless bodyguards working for his and Macau’s family.
“You saw him last, Ché.”, Kim says, pushing himself up from the wall. “When was that? Do you know the exact time?”
“Tell us everything you remember.”, Big adds, fully turning his back to the dumpster and putting his undivided focus on him. “No matter how small it might seem, every detail could help us. Was he alone? Were there other bodyguards with him? Who drove him to school?”
Each question hits him like a sledgehammer. Ché flinches.As if sensing his thoughts, his fears, Kim immediately interjects.
“Don’t overwhelm him.”, he tells his bodyguard, voice cold.
The bodyguard in question doesn’t seem concerned, shrugging.
“I’m not overwhelming him.”, P’Big defends himself and crosses his arms over his chest. There’s a furrow in his brow that hadn’t been there seconds before. “They are all standard questions.”
“For a bodyguard maybe.”, P’Kim replies, taking a step closer to Ché. There’s barely any distance between them left. Ché can sense the body heat radiating from his boyfriend. Inside, it’s an entirely different matter. Ché feels like he’d been submerged in water for the last few minutes, not getting enough air to breathe.
“Hey, wait a moment! Wait, wait, wait … “, Ché pushes the words out through gritted teeth. He raises his hands in defense, but he’s unsure what he’s defending against. The dead bodyguard? Big’s questions?… the truth?
Ché forcefully shakes his head.
“You’re not saying that something happened to Macau, right? P’ Kim?”
P’ Kim shares a glance with his bodyguard, none of them answering.A feeling of dread seeps through Ché’s veins.
No, no, no, NO! That’s not possible! It’s just not! It’s not possible!
“I was talking to Macau not even … what has it been? Twenty … fifteen minutes ago? Yes … yes! Fifteen minutes ago! There’s no way something happened to him in that short amount of time, right?”
Ché’s desperate gaze wanders from his boyfriend to Big and unwittingly lands on the dead body behind them. The corpse that someone had stuffed into the garbage bin like a piece of trash. Macau’s bodyguard.
Oh god.
In an instant, Ché goes down on his knees.
“P’ Kim. I think I’ll start hyperventilating now for real.”, he whispers, weakly clutching at his boyfriend’s arm. If he only had enough strength left to pinch his own skin …
This had to be a dream – a nightmare – one he would wake up from any moment now.
Macau couldn’t be … he couldn’t be … dea-
He cannot think the word. Bile surges in his throat and he chokes on his own spit when he tries to swallow it down. For a moment, he thinks he’s about to faint. There’s no air left and a white haze over his eyes, blurring his sight. Or are they tears …?
Suddenly there’s pressure on his shoulders, his hands.Strong fingers grip him by the upper arms, grounding him.It’s the unmistakable presence of Kim.
“Deep breaths, Ché”, the words are spoken in a deep voice, low and sure. Ché closes his eyes. He loves Kim’s voice. Listening to him feels like being covered in the softest and warmest blanket one can imagine. This time, too, it works like a miracle. Slowly but surely Ché can feel himself calm down.
“Deep breaths, Ché. Deep breaths.”, Kim repeats himself, pushing out an audible breath for him to imitate. “Everything is okay.”
“No, nothing is okay!”, Ché pushes out between gritted teeth, once he finally has enough air back to speak. “We have to find Macau!”
With a glare, he stares at his boyfriend who is watching him silently.
“And why are you so fucking calm? Stop being so calm!”, he weakly punches against Kim’s chest.
“One of us has to be, angel.”, a soft smile plays around Kim’s lips. It makes Ché tear up on the inside.
“P’ Kim …”, he whispers, grabbing his boyfriend’s hand and interlocking their fingers.
Kim will fix this … he will fix this … he just had to …
“P’ Kim … please help me find Macau.”
“Of course, angel.”
The answer, the promise, comes immediately. A shaky breath escapes Ché’s lips.He gathers his strength and stands up. Kim is a steady presence by his side, not helping without prompt, but there nonetheless, ready to react in a second should he need the support.
“Big?”, the bodyguard’s name is a whole question coming from Kim.
“He’s not answering my calls.”, Big says.
No one questions who he’s talking about.
“Wait a minute …”, Ché furrows his brows, staring at the bodyguard opposite from him. “How do you have Macau’s number?”

Macau changed his phone number regularly to mess with Tankhun, making prank calls and whatnot. Ché seriously doubts that he gives Kim and his employees and update when he does so. Sometimes he even forgets to inform Ché, who always has a near panic attack when he receives dozens of messages from a strange number, including personal and embarrassing details about his life no one should know – aside from, well, Macau …
“Perks of being this one’s bodyguard.”, Big curtly explains, nodding at Kim.
“Try again.”, Kim demands.
The bodyguard nods and dials the number again, putting it on speaker.With baited breath, Ché stares at the phone.
Please pick up Macau, please pick up …
He doesn’t. The phone rings a few more seconds then switches to voicemail.Big ends the call without leaving a message.
A defeated sigh escapes Ché’s lips.
“Don’t fret, Ché. We are only working on assumptions at the moment. There’s no clear evidence that something happened to Macau. Not yet.”, Big says, completely ignoring the glare Kim is sending his way. Till now, Ché doesn’t understand why his boyfriend is so against others using Ché’s nickname when speaking to him, especially his own subordinates. He’s always drilling them to call him by full name or even Young Master and well, Ché is having none of it. He’d rather be called by his nickname than a stupid sounding title. He might be part of a mafia family but he refuses to fulfill the corresponding clichés!
“He might be ignoring you.”, Kim muses. “You call him, Ché. You have the best chance of Macau picking up.”
Ché nods, balling his hands into fists – determined.
He reaches into his pockets, then freezes.
“Oh fuck!”, he curses, hitting his own forehead with the palm of his hand. “I can’t call Macau, P’ Kim. I lost my phone.”
Why, just why had this to happen today?Couldn’t he have lost his phone next week?Or any other day? Just not when they’re in the middle of a crisis?
Kim shares another glance with his bodyguard.
“I know, I know.”, Ché mumbles, noticing it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lose it, honestly. This is actually the reason why I was late for our date in the first place, P’ Kim. I was searching for my phone. I was so sure that I put it in my locker before helping with the preparations, but apparently not. I cannot find it anywhere … sorry.”
“You misunderstand me, Ché.”, Kim says. “I’m not angry. But I think you just solved another question for us.”
“I don’t think you lost your phone.”, Big continues, before Ché can ask what they are talking about, completely lost once more. “Someone took it to lure Macau away.”
“Probably.”, Kim adds.
“Oh my god.”, Ché whispers.
Within the blink of an eye, Kim appears by his side.
“It’s not your fault, angel.”, he says, squeezing his shoulder. “This might be a good thing, actually.”
“What do you mean?”, Ché asks, staring at his boyfriend. His heart beats loudly in his chest, but he ignores it. There’s no time for him to follow in a pit of despair, not again. They had to find Macau, go and look for him, not waste time because he had another panic attack!
Wordlessly, Kim pulls his own phone out of his jacket.After a few seconds of silent typing he turns it around, showing Ché the screen.
“You put a tracker in my phone!?”, Ché loudly yells.
With wide eyes he stares at Kim, disbelieving.
“Among other things, yes.”, Kim answers.
Ché’s jaw hits the floor.
“Among other things? What’s that supposed to mean? P’ Kim??”
“Let’s save the discussion for later.”, Big interjects, successfully preventing Ché from giving his boyfriend the lecture of a lifetime. “We have to move fast. Look at the screen – the tracker shows that the phone is still in the building. Second floor, outer corridor.”
“And moving.”, Kim adds, tilting his chin towards the phone screen. The yellow dot, symbolizing Ché’s phone, is indeed moving around.
There’s a small part in Ché that wants to demand an explanation from Kim – who gave him the permission to track him – his own boyfriend? Talk about a breach of privacy …
– but Big got a point. Time is of the essence. They had to find Macau. Whoever is after his friend might have used his own phone for his scheme and this person was still here. Macau might still be here.
“We have a chance to find them before it’s too late.”, Ché says.
Kim nods.
“Big, call one of our teams and inform my brother about everything.”, he orders his boyfriend, then turns to Ché. “Stay with him until back-up arrives. I’ll go after them.”
“Alone? No way!” With wide spread arms, Ché blocks the way. “It’s too dangerous!”
The likelihood of Macau being in danger, of being injured (or worse), is high.He won’t allow Kim to get hurt as well, just because he’s trying to help.
“He’s right, boss. I cannot let you go.”, Big chimes in. “Let’s switch. I go inside and you stay with Ché.”
“No!”, Ché exclaims, not giving his boyfriend a chance to accept. He sends his fiercest glare at the two men. “Neither of you will go alone! We will do this together.”
“No.”
Kim’s refusal comes hard and fast. Kim’s eyes are a pool of darkness – bottomless and unyielding. In comparison to him, Ché’s determinations seems like that of a child, paper-thin.
“You are not coming, Ché.”, Kim says. “It’s too dangerous.”
“I don’t care. I’m coming with you!”, Ché insists, shaking his head.
“Ché …”
“No!”, he is done listening to Kim’s orders. “You want me out of harm’s way, I get it. But newsflash P’Kim – I want you out of harm’s way too! Whoever did this to Macau’s bodyguard is a threat to you as well. I’m not sitting here, twiddling my thumbs, while you play the hero. I’m coming with you and that’s final.”
Kim stares at him and seconds tick by with neither saying anything.Wordlessly, Ché returns his boyfriend’s hard gaze.He was telling the truth – he doesn’t care for Kim’s opinion and he doesn’t care if he looks like a stubborn child. He won’t let Kim go into danger alone. They are supposed to be a team!
“Boss, we are losing time. Whoever has the phone is almost at the first floor.”
Big’s words pull the tide in Ché’s favor.
“Okay, fine.”, Kim relents, but his voice is still hard. Ché doesn’t like it. Kim almost never uses that tone on him, only his employees or outsiders. “But you’ll stick to me and Big and you’ll always remain a step behind. And you will follow my orders. When I tell you to duck, you duck. When I tell you to hide, you hide. And when I tell you to run, you run. No funny business, no playing the hero. Do you understand, angel?”
“Yes, P’ Kim.”, Ché responds, a heavy weight falling from his chest. “I’ll do exactly what you say.”
He doesn’t want to fight with Kim, not now. Besides, he knows his boyfriend is only worried about him. It doesn’t make his words softer or lessens the harsh lines on Kim’s face, but it eases Ché’s own mind.
“Good.”, Kim turns around. “Then let’s go.”
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The halls of the school are quiet, airing on the edge of eerie, especially to Ché who only knows the building as a vibrant and living entity – filled with laughing students and their teachers.
Kim is taking the lead, with Ché closely behind. From his spot, he can see the screen of the phone, held securely in Kim’s hand. The bright spot symbolizing Chè’s phone is not far away. Actually, it’s coming closer to them, not much longer and their paths would cross.
The thought makes him swallow hardly. His gaze darts towards the gun in his boyfriend’s other hand – provided by Big once they’d entered the building. The sight heightens his anxiety only more.
“Back-up is on the way.”, Big whispers from his place in the rear, the man’s voice barely audible.
Kim doesn’t answer and continues onwards. His steps are effortlessly silent, next to him Ché feels like an elephant stomping through the forest. Would they be in a different situation, he’d instantly compliment Kim about his skills, but it was neither place nor time for it.
Suddenly, Kim raises his hand sharply and forces them to a stand-still. Before Ché can open his mouth and ask what’s wrong, Kim shoots an intense gaze at him. Ché hunches his shoulders, the reprimand to stay silent more than clear to him. Wordlessly, Kim shows them his phone. Forcefully, Ché swallows the gasp building in his throat.
Whoever has his phone is two intersections over, at the end of the corridor!
“You wait here, Ché.”, Kim orders with a whisper. “Big, stay with him.”
This time, Ché doesn’t stop the noise of protest.
“You promised we stay together! I’m not going to wait here for you!”
“Ché!”, Kim glares at him. “I’m not making any jokes, understood? Besides, you promised to do everything I say as long as we are in the school building.”
“Fuck, he’s getting away!”, Big suddenly shouts, eyes on the phone in Kim’s hand. The bright spot is indeed moving away – and according to the screen, he’s no longer walking.
“Dammit, he noticed us.”, Kim hisses. Not wasting anymore time, he turns around the next corner. Ché and Big automatically follow him, but they have nothing on Kim’s speed.
Breathing heavily, Ché pushes forwards, his gaze on his boyfriend’s back. If he doesn’t hurry up, he’ll lose him!
Suddenly there’s a loud bang.
The next second, Ché lies on the floor, disorientated.
“Owww …”, he moans weakly. “What was that?”
Another bang follows the first – this time it’s coming from behind, and it’s accompanied by the sound of breaking glass. The pressure on his back pushes him further to the ground. It takes Ché a few seconds until he realizes that it’s Big, covering him with his own body.
“Fuck, there are two of them!”, Big hisses. “And they have guns.”
Cold dread washes through Chè’s veins.
Somehow, their situation suddenly got a lot more real; a lot worse.
“Ché!”
The noise of Kim screaming his name pulls Ché back to reality.
“Don’t worry about me!”, he immediately shouts back, his gaze on Kim, who already returned to the corridor end. The concern is clear in his eyes. If Ché doesn’t do anything then Kim will stay here and protect him. They’ll lose their chance at saving Macau. “Follow him! I’ll stay with P’ Big.”
“He’s right.”, Big agrees, getting back up. With a strong grip, he helps Ché back on his feet. “Follow the tracker. I’ll take care of the one behind us. I won’t let anything happen to Ché.”
For a moment, Kim doesn’t move. Ché doesn’t let it bother him and maintains his steadfast gaze.

Come on, Kim. We don’t have much time …

As if hearing his thoughts, Kim accedes to him. He gives Ché one last, hard look, then turns around the corner and follows the tracking signal on his phone.
“What now?”, Ché asks, once Kim is out of sight. He turns back to the bodyguard. Unlike Kim they don’t have a tracker. The second attacker could be anywhere.
“Well, at least he didn’t try shooting us again.”, Big mumbles. “There’s that.”
“What if he’s hiding and just waiting for his chance?”, Ché says.
Now, with Kim gone, the fear is making its way back. He trusts the bodyguard next to him with his life, but the man isn’t Kim.
“I doubt it.”, Big says, revealing his own weapon. Great, first gloves, then the gun and now a knife. What else is Big hiding in his hoodie pockets? “But still, stay behind me.”
Cautious, they wander back towards the school exit, tracing the invisible path they’d taken before, past closed classrooms, garbage bins and a vending machine. They cross the first corridor without anything happening. No one jumps out from a hiding place to attack them or tries to escape.
The silence makes Ché tense. He doesn’t like this game of prey and predator at all. He thinks back to the video games he loves to play with Macau. The reality is much more frightening, he can hardly put it into words. One wrong move and they could die. There’s no reset button with which they can start over again.
Suddenly and without warning, another shot gets fired – once again from behind.
A shrill shriek falls from Ché’s lips and his head is working double-time.
Did they walk past the unknown attacker without noticing them?They must have hidden somewhere close by!
In an instant, Big switches their positions and Ché is behind him once more.
“He’s not shooting to kill.”, Big says. He points with his chin towards the destroyed vending machine close to them. The bodyguard is right. The attacker could have injured them by now, if he wanted to, maybe even killed them. But he didn’t.
“He’s trying to scare us.”, Ché whispers, not admitting that it works. His fingers clutch the hemline of his own shirt. He doesn’t have a weapon on him, but he doubts that he could use it anyway. Fighting someone with a knife? In a game? Sure, why not? In real life? No thank you.
“He’s trying to distract us.”, Big says, contradicting Ché’s own thoughts. “Attacking a member of the Theerapanakul family is a grave offense itself. Killing one? A matter on an entirely different scale. Our attacker knows that. We’re not the target here, it would be more than dumb of them to hurt either you or Kim.”
The idea doesn’t sound as reassuring to Ché as Big probably thinks.Still, he doesn’t say anything and follows Big into the closest classroom.The door is ajar, which means …
“The attacker is in there …”, Ché mumbles, throat tightening.
For a moment, he wants to ask Big if he can wait outside, but what if the assailant flees? It’s impossible for Ché to stop him on his own. He would be a waiting duck outside, all alone.
Big enters the classroom and Ché follows.He lets his gaze wander through the room, looking for clues, but …
“There’s no on here.”, Big voices his thoughts aloud, just as confused as he is.
And as if fate wanted to play a trick on them, the door behind them gets pushed close exactly the moment they turn back. Ché can barely catch a glimpse of a dark suit and blonde hair, then there’s nothing aside from reddish-brown wood.
“Fucking hell, it was a trap!”, Big yells, storming towards the door. He tries to open it, but his efforts are wasted. “The fucker was hiding outside, waiting for his chance to lock us inside.”
“What now?”
Big lets out a frustrated shout, then turns around. He slides his knife back inside his hoodie pockets, then strides towards the nearest chairs. He picks it up without hesitation.
“P’ Big!”, Ché shouts. “What are you doing?”
“My knife won’t help us to get out of here.”, Big responds with a huff. “But this chair will.”
He raises the chair over his head and hurls it against the windows.The glass breaks with a loud clatter.
Satisfied, the bodyguard walks up to the newly created exit, completely unbothered by the destruction left in his wake.
“P’ Big! Why did you do that?”, Ché wants to know, mouth agape. “There’s a latch on the windows, you know that, right? There’s absolutely no need for you to throw a chair to open them!”
The bodyguard doesn’t say anything, but his cheeks turn a deep, red color.
“Oh my god, P’ Big!”
Ché shakes his head. The bodyguard actually hadn’t known …“I cannot believe it.”, he mutters, more to himself than the bodyguard. “I need to have a serious talk with my brother.”
The bodyguards are all too dramatic, always acting like they are part of a movie and not living in the real world …
Big pulls his hoodie over his head and uses the clothes to clear the glass shards out of the way. Once he’s done, there’s enough free space to climb through the windows without getting injures thanks to the splinters.
Ché allows – the now shirtless –
Big to help him through, although there’s a small part in him that wants to open one of the untouched windows to make his grand escape.
“Look, P’ Big.”, he cannot resist saying, when both of them are safely outside. “The guy locked us in a classroom on the ground floor. We didn’t even have to worry about climbing from the first or second floor.”
Big doesn’t say anything, trapped in the prison of his own making – the prison of embarrassment!
“Come on, let’s get back to the main entrance.”
Since Ché is familiar with the building, he decides to take the lead. Defeated, Big follows him without complaints, though Ché can see him fiddling with his knife, the by now destroyed hoodie hangs loosely around his waist.
Well, as long as he’s not going to stab him in the back, he’s fine with it.
They arrive at the building entrance without further problems, though there’s no sign of Kim or anyone else. Dejected, Ché looks left and right.
Should they go back inside? But what about Kim? What if –

Vroom!

With a deafening noise, a car shoots past them. Ché has barely enough time to get a look at the driver, but what he sees is enough.
“Fuck!”, Big curses again, his knife clattering useless against the cement.
He’d thrown it at the car tires, but not with enough force.
The car speeds away and they cannot do anything about it.
“Where’s Kim?”, Ché asks, worried. Did the driver flee alone? There had been two, right? Did one of them escape on his own? Was the second assailant caught by Kim? Or … or …
Before he can fall into another panic attack, his boyfriend walks up to them. He’s coming from the same direction as the car. Immediately, Ché gives Kim a once-over, but his boyfriend looks unhurt. There are no bruises or other types of injuries, even his clothes are in perfect condition. One could assume that Kim’s currently walking on a runway, instead of catching up with them after a wild chase.
Ché lets out a relieved breath.
“Why are you naked?”, Kim asks his bodyguard in greeting.
At once, Big’ s flush returns in full force.
“I’m not naked!”, he hisses, pointing at his waist. “It’s just my hoodie.”
“Whatever.”, Kim comes to a stand-still next to them and with a graceful movement he swipes his hand through his hair. Ché’s fingers itch with the desire to do the same. Before he can do that, however,something gets shoved into his hands."I got your phone back, angel.", Kim says. "Our assailant number one ditched it during the chase. After losing my means to track him, he managed to escape, however."With a raised eyebrow, Kim stares at them. Chè is gripping his phone like a lifeline while Big restlessly shifts on the spot.“You didn’t have any luck either, huh?”“No.”, Big admits through gritted teeth, eyes narrowing. He doesn’t mention the unnecessarily destroyed windows at all. Ché allows it, ever the gracious one. “We got tricked and locked into an empty classroom. We managed to escape, but it was too late. We arrived at the entrance just as the car was driving by. I didn’t even see the license plate.”
“That’s not a problem. I already have the number. It shouldn’t take long to identify the driver.”
“It was Sasa.“
Surprised, the others turn to Ché.
“The man.”, Ché clarifies, heart thumping loudly in his chest. “It was Sasa. Macau’s personal driver.”
“Are you sure?”, Kim asks, taking a step closer to him.
Ché nods.
“I only caught a glimpse of his face, but I’m sure. It was Sasa. He has taken me to school several times. He even took me home once, even though Macau wasn't there.”
“Did he now?”, Kim murmurs, expression dark.
Ché cannot blame him. To think that there was a time when he had been alone with Macau’s kidnapper – or his accomplice – is terrifying. What happened to Macau could have happened to him as well. And like Macau, he would have been totally unprepared.

“P’ Kim … what are we going to do now?”
Kim sighs, then puts an arm around Ché’s shoulder.He relaxes instantly, his body fitting against Kim like a lost puzzle piece.
“We wait for our back-up, angel.”, Kim says. “There’s nothing more we can do at the moment.”
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As promised, the back-up arrives not soon after, but it’s too late by then.Both, the abductors and Macau, are gone.
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Apathetic, Kim watches as two of Kinn’s bodyguards heave the corpse out of the dumpster and pull it onto a black carrier. Another bodyguard covers it with a blanket, hiding the face from view. There’s already a van waiting at the school entrance, which will be used to transport the corpse to a morgue downtown. The owner of the morgue is indebted to the Minor Family, but that won’t be a problem. Porsche will allow them access to the facility without doubt. He is Kinn’s lover after all. Making sure that the dead body will vanish without a trace or fear of anyone alerting the authorities is akin to Porsche buying a bouquet of roses for his lover.
Speaking of Porsche …
Kim turns his attention to Ché.
The kid is standing a little off to the side, close enough for Kim to reach within seconds, but far enough away to give him a false sense of privacy for his conversation with Porsche. He is using Kim’s phone for the call, his own has been confiscated and is already on the way to the estate. Arm will check it to recover the lost text messages. Maybe he’ll also find something else useful, but Kim doubts it. He doesn’t think that Ché’s phone was used for anything else than luring Macau back inside the building. That fact alone is enough, however, to make Ché angry beyond words. That his own phone was used in such a way, is more than maddening for the boy. He’d already admitted to Kim that it makes him feel like an accomplice in Macau’s abduction.
Kim had tried to contradict him, but Ché wouldn’t listen.Hopefully his older brother had a better chance than Kim himself.He risks another glance at his boyfriend, carefully his staring won’t get noticed.
According to Ché’s glare, the conversation between the brothers is not going well. It wouldn’t surprise Kim, if the new head of the Minor Family shows up on the scene of crime personally.
“How did you know?”, Big asks, walking past Ché who gives him a distracted wave.
Despite the chase inside the school and his confrontation with a window, his bodyguard doesn’t look worn out. In one hand he holds a half-burnt cigarette, the other is buried in his pocket. Despite the holes, he had put the hoodie back on, done with the teasing.
Kim throws a glance over Big’s shoulder.
In the back, he can see Kinn’s own head bodyguard, Chan. Big’s emergency contact. The man is talking to the small group he’d arrived with. Interestingly enough he is wearing a simple white shirt and loose trousers. His subordinates, on the other hand, are donning the standard suite provided by the Major Estate.
“The dead bodyguard.”, Big clarifies, when Kim doesn’t immediately answer. “When I told you he was one of Macau’s, you weren’t surprised. You already had a suspicion. How comes?”
“Oh, that.”, Kim lazily shrugs. “Did you check his pockets?”
“Uh … yes? But why …”, Big’s eyes widen in realization.
“There was a Hawaiian tie in it, wasn’t there? Everyone of Vegas’ men has it. A memento from their days in the Minor Family. Untypically sentimental for my cousin, but also surprisingly helpful.”, Kim affirms his bodyguard’s unvoiced assumptions in an even, almost bored, tone. “Once you know what to look for, it’s hard to miss.”
“Oh, I see …”
Big takes another drag of his cigarette and silence returns. The bodyguard looks in Kim’s direction several times while he finishes his smoke, using it as an excuse not to speak. Kim doesn’t take the bait, not bothering to continue the conversation. He’s unimpressed by his bodyguard’s behavior and he knows that it won’t uphold for too long.
As expected, Big soon lets out a frustrated huff. He flicks the remains of his cigarette on the dry asphalt, then stomps on the ashes with the heel of his shoe.
“So … you’re not going to say anything about it?”, the bodyguard wants to know, eyes firmly stuck to the ground.
Kim waits with his answer until Big has enough courage to raise his head.Once their gazes interlock, he lets out an emotionless “what”.It’s more of a statement than an actual question.
“Aren’t you going to ask me why I called the head-bodyguard of your older brother as back-up instead of our own men?”, Big pushes out through gritted teeth. Slowly, the man is getting his temper back. Good.
“Why should I?”, Kim easily responds.
“You’re impossible.”
Before Kim can make another dig at his bodyguard, – riling Big up was just too easy – the cause of their conversation arrives. With a stern frown, Chan takes the place between them, though he’s clearly favoring Big’s side. Kim doesn’t comment on his observation and only stares silently at him.
“The clean-up is almost done.”, Chan dives straight in, ever the dutiful bodyguard. Kim can see why his brother likes him so much. Both of them preferred straight questions and answers instead of beating around the bush. At least, as long as their lovers weren’t involved. “Two of our men will take care of the corpse, two of the crime scene and school. Arm is coordinating the examination of the surveillance cameras from the estate. He’ll make sure there are no recordings of today’s events. We got lucky that no student or teacher was around who could indicate us.”
“Oh yeah?”, Kim raises an eyebrow. “With no witnesses around we’ll have difficulties getting more hints about Macau’s abductors. Kids love gossip. They’re the perfect source of information.”
He would know. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d gotten results thanks to the gossip spread by the students instead of surveillance fees.
Kim can feel his bodyguard tense next to him, but Chan isn’t faced at all.
“You don’t have to worry about that, Khun Kim.”, the bodyguard says. His tone isn’t exactly patronizing, but it sure as hell comes close to it. “Arm’s already checking all cameras in the area. There’s no one better suited to find our getaway driver. Thanks to Khun Porsché, we know his identity. We will find Sasa Anchali, even without the help of some kids.”
Kim scoffs.
The nerves of this man.
Just because Chan had known him since he was a little kid, always watching the three brothers from his father’s side, doesn’t mean that he’s more capable than him.
Kim opens his mouth, not sure if he’s about to mock the bodyguard or insult him – it will probably be a weird combination of both – but then Ché appears. As always, the kid immediately lightens Kim’s mood with his mere presence and he refrains from tearing into Kinn’s head-bodyguard.
“Young master.”, Chan greets Ché with an implied bow, lowering his head.
“Hello P’ Chan.”, his boyfriend greets the bodyguard with a weak smile before walking up to Kim. Kim immediately notices how Ché instinctively relaxes the closer he gets to him. The smile he receives is warmer and softer – more honest – than the one directed at Chan. Pleased, Kim stares at his boyfriend. “I just talked with hia. He wants me to come back to the estate right away.”
“Huh? I thought your brother would freak out and insist on picking you up on his own.”, Big mutters, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t overprotectiveness the family theme?”
“Uh, yeah, well … you see, it actually took a bit of convincing.”, Ché admits. “At the first mention of the dead bodyguard hia was running to the garage, shouting like a lunatic. Thankfully P’ Kinn was nearby and managed to calm him down – at least enough for him to agree to wait for my return. With our luck he’d surely get into an accident while driving over.”
With clammy hands, Ché brushes some hair out of his face. Kim’s eyes track the notion attentively. For a moment, he’s tempted to put a wayward curl back behind the boy’s ear himself.
“Big. Give him a lift.”, he says, resisting the urge.
His bodyguard grimaces.
“I came on my bike.”, Big replies, voice almost guilty. His shoulders drop. “Since I only got an SOS-signal and nothing else, I didn’t have much to work with. The priority was getting on site. Sorry.”
“I can escort the young master back home.”, Chan swiftly interjects, inserting himself back into the conversation.
“We’ll switch.”, Kim turns to his own bodyguard, completely ignoring the other man. Unbothered, he pulls his car keys from his jacket. “Take my car. I’ll use the bike.”
Big sighs, but hands over his own keys without complaints.
“That’s unnecessary.”, Chan says with a frown, eyes set on Kim.
“Aren’t you coming with us?”, Ché asks at the same time. “I thought we are done here.”
“Not quite.”, Kim tells his boyfriend.
Confused, Ché glances around. The van and clean-up crew are gone by now. It’s only their little group left as well as two other bodyguards – tagalongs of Chan – who are standing a respectful distance away.
Kim can understand Ché’s confusion. He’s still leaning against the brick wall, ankles crossed, stance relaxed. He doesn’t exactly look like a man on a mission.
Well, needs must.
“Someone has to tell Vegas the news.”, he says, straightening his posture. “Better me than a random bodyguard. Who knows what my cousin will do to them once he hears about Macau.”
Contrary to his words, he isn’t doing this out of the goodness of his heart. Telling his cousin that Macau got abducted will give him the chance to observe Vegas’ reactions first-hand. His rage. His wrath. His despair. Vegas might even slip up and reveal something previously unknown to him. An ugly truth, a terrible secret … who knows? Everyone has something to hide, after all. No matter what it is, Kim will learn the truth. Soon.
“I’m coming with you!”
Exasperated, Kim stares at his boyfriend.
“Ché …”
His boyfriend, who once again, doesn’t do as told.
“Don’t try to stop me, P’ Kim. Macau is my best friend. I have to tell his brother about what happened myself.”, Ché says, not giving him the chance to protest – not that it would have made a difference. Maybe he shouldn’t have antagonized Chan and taken him up on the offer to drive Ché home. Well, it’s apparently too late for that. “Just imagine it was P’ Kinn or P’ Tankhun instead of Macau. Would you rather hear it from a family member or a random bodyguard? Huh?”
Kim sighs, recognizing a lost battle when he sees it.
“Fine. You can come, but my rules still stand.”, he relents. “When I say we leave, we leave. No discussions.”
“Yes P’!”
“Here. I don’t need these anymore.”, Kim throws the keys from Big back at the man. His bodyguard catches them effortless. “Accompany Chan back to the estate. Get in touch with Arm. Inform me immediately once you have news about Sasa Anchali’s whereabouts or that of his associate.”
“You got it, boss.”, Big says.
Without another word of farewell, Kim snatches Che`s arm and directs him towards his car. His own thoughts are already centered around the conversation he’ll soon have.
His cousin better had learned to control himself by now.
Devil or not, Kim wouldn't let Vegas take out his anger on his angel.
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“We almost got caught.”
With an annoyed tone and an even more annoyed expression, Sasa turns toward his passenger.
“Yeah, and whose fault is that?”, he asks.
“Yours, obviously.”, Gunther, his associate – a brutish man that somehow manages to get more on his nerves than his other colleague, Anorak. Well, former colleague. Anorak is dead by now, his body carelessly stuffed into a dumpster, courtesy of the man next to him.
Sasa laughs short and mockingly.
“Are you serious?”, he shakes his head, gaze directed at the road in front of him. They’d left the city center minutes ago. With each passing seconds the streets are getting narrower. Not long and they’d be out of the district. “While I was getting the car, you wasted time with the kid. Also, news flash – without me you wouldn’t be here at all. Kim Theerapanakul and his bodyguard came this close to catching you. You should thank me, honestly.”
“Oh fuck of.”, Gunter curses. “Don’t talk to me about these bastards. What I want to know is why you didn’t warn us sooner. You should have known that there are rats in the school. Or did you want us to get caught?”
Sasa immediately defends himself. Letting accusations like this fester into something more was dangerous. He couldn’t allow Gunter to get suspicious lest the man started turning their boss against him. Sasa didn’t want to end up like Anorak – eliminated like vermin, brutal and without hesitation.
“Don’t be stupid, Gunther.”, he says. “I obviously didn’t know that Kim Theerapanyakul was going to show up today.”
It was the truth. Macau didn’t mention anything about his cousin. He most likely wasn’t aware about his presence either, otherwise he’d surely have complained about it on the drive over. More often than not, Anorak and himself had to listen to the kid’s ramblings the whole day. It was exhausting.
“What was that brat even doing at school?”, Gunther mutters. “He graduated over a year ago.”
Sasa sighs. His partner was such an idiot. It’s common knowledge that Kim Theerapanyakul was in a relationship with the younger Kittisawat brother. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why he was at the school. He was going to pick up his little boyfriend.
“Whatever, we had luck this time. Let’s hurry up, the boss is waiting.”
Sasa steps on the accelerator.
Thankfully, for once in his life, Gunter doesn’t argue and they continue their drive in blissful silence.
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On the other end of town, an inconspicuous white van with a green, flower-shaped symbol on the side door, makes its way downtown. The driver, a woman who might be considered beautiful if it weren’t for the sad frown which seemed to be permanently carved into her face, is silent.

She’s lost in her thoughts, just like he is.

Everything went according to plan.

They’d gotten the kid and managed to leave the school areal without drawing unwanted attention. His associates – Sasa and Gunther – had done their job perfectly. They’d even pulled on over the youngest Theerapanyakul brat, which was not an easy feat.

Soon it would start- his glorious, glorious revenge

He could hardly believe it himself.

“How much longer?”, he is the one to finally break the silence. He asks his question – the question every impatient kid is asking their parents on a trip, again and again and again – without any amount of embarrassment. His glance is directed at his own lap. His fingers are trembling from excitement. Suppressing the adrenaline is no longer an option. He cannot squash these feelings down. He doesn’t want to.

“We’re almost there.”, the woman, Banyen Kugimiya – the third and last one of his comrades – doesn’t let him wait long for an answer. “Sasa and Gunther should arrive not much later.”

He smiles and it is an honest smile, grown through years of waiting and endless preparations.

“Perfect.”

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Evening sets in.
A lone student is running through the streets, heavy breaths of air leaving his lips in white clouds.
He is panicking and trying not to show it.
No one knows that he’s a witness, that he has been hiding in the school building for the last few hours, that he has watched everything: the chase between superstar WIK, his friend from the music club, Ché, as well as two armed strangers.
. . . and the white van, carrying his unconscious classmate into the unknown.