22:37 P.M. [Last Night]
Johan's phone landed on the table with a dull thud, the force of his frustration evident. His jaw tightened as he stared at the screen. The chat was read— read —but there was no response. The silence felt louder than the buzz of the bar around him, where music mingled with conversations and bursts of laughter. Usually, this atmosphere would help clear his head, but tonight, it only heightened his agitation.
"What's wrong with me?" Johan muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. He wasn't the type to brood like this, especially not in public.
"Did you order yet?" Arthit's voice cut through the noise. Johan looked up as his friend slid into the seat across from him.
"Not yet," Johan replied, signaling a waiter.
"Did you wait long?"
"Just got here," Johan said curtly.
"Why'd you call me out?"
"I'm bored." The words came out flat, dismissive.
Arthit studied him for a moment, skepticism flickering across his face.
"Really? You're never this restless. What's going on?"
"You're asking too many questions," Johan shot back, handing Arthit the menu. "Just order something."
Hill arrived moments later, sliding into the seat beside Arthit. His sharp gaze flicked between Johan and the untouched drink on the table. "You're acting weird," he said bluntly.
"I'm fine," Johan replied, irritation creeping into his tone.
"No, you're not. What's going on?" Hill pressed, his voice calm but insistent.
Johan sighed, leaning back in his chair. His fingers itched to grab his phone again, even though he knew it would only add fuel to his growing annoyance. A quick glance revealed the same message thread, now more infuriating than before.
[JOHAN]: Where are you?
[NORTH]: Outside.
[JOHAN]: ?
[NORTH]: I'm outside.
[JOHAN]: With whom?
[NORTH]: A friend.
[JOHAN]: Ten o'clock at night?
[JOHAN]: Where are you?
[JOHAN]: Why don't you answer me?
[JOHAN]: Where are you?
Read.
The last notification made Johan clench his jaw. He knew exactly where North was. The vague replies, the deflections—it all pointed to one thing. North was working again. Despite all his protests, the idiot had likely gone behind Johan's back to take another part-time job.
"I said I'm fine," Johan muttered, responding to Hill's questioning look.
"You don't look fine," Hill said, smirking. "You look pissed."
"And what does that have to do with you?" Johan shot back, narrowing his eyes.
"Everything. We're your friends. If you're going to drag us out like this, you might as well tell us what's eating you," Arthit added, glancing at Johan with a mix of curiosity and concern.
Johan hesitated, his thumb brushing against the edge of his phone. The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he held them back. Instead, he lifted his glass and took a long sip of his drink, savoring the burn as it slid down his throat.
"I hate liars," he finally said, his voice low.
Arthit and Hill exchanged a glance.
"Who lied to you?" Arthit asked, his brow furrowed.
"No one important," Johan replied curtly.
"Right." Hill snorted. "Is this about that guy you're always texting? The one who doesn't seem to realize how much you care?"
Johan stiffened, glaring at Hill.
"Bullseye," Hill said, grinning. "I'm good at this."
"Shut up." Johan drained the rest of his glass.
"You followed him, didn't you?" Hill pressed, his tone teasing.
"This is my business," Johan snapped, his voice a low growl.
"Uh-huh. And how's that working out for you?" Hill asked, leaning back with a knowing smirk.
Johan didn't answer. His mind was already elsewhere—on North, on the stubbornness that drove him to hide things, on the quiet defiance in his eyes whenever Johan called him out.
A movement to his left drew his attention. A woman stood beside the table, her voice tentative as she asked, "Excuse me, can I get your number? My friend likes you."
Johan forced a polite smile, but before he could respond, Hill cut in with, "No."
The woman blinked, taken aback, and Johan sighed. "I'm sorry, but I can't," he said gently.
She nodded, offering a faint smile before walking away.
"You're like an old married couple," Arthit muttered, shaking his head.
"Jealousy, much?" Hill added, raising an eyebrow at Johan.
Johan rolled his eyes, his patience wearing thin. "You two are insufferable."
"Maybe," Hill said with a shrug, "but at least we're honest."
Johan didn't reply. Instead, he stared at his phone again, his thumb hovering over the screen. No new messages. No apologies. Just silence.
And yet, despite the frustration bubbling in his chest, a small, unshakable part of him felt drawn to North—drawn to his stubbornness, his quiet determination, and the way he always managed to frustrate and captivate Johan in equal measure.
Johan sat rigidly, his irritation simmering beneath the surface. Across the table, Hill's expression remained neutral, though Johan could sense the faintest edge of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. It was infuriating.
Hill leaned back casually and said, "Tiger will pull out its claws."
"What does that even mean?" Arthit asked, raising an eyebrow. His genuine curiosity contrasted sharply with Hill's cryptic tone.
Johan sighed. "It's hard to explain," he muttered, avoiding their expectant stares.
"You made it difficult," Arthit replied, leaning forward, clearly not letting it go.
"What are you even talking about?" Johan snapped.
"Annoying," Hill interjected, his tone matching Johan's frustration.
Johan exhaled sharply. Lately, this dynamic had become routine—tense exchanges that skirted the edge of real arguments but never quite escalated.
They knew him too well, especially Hill. It grated on his nerves.
"Whatever," Johan muttered, shaking his head. "I'm going outside."
"Calm down," Arthit said, trying to diffuse the tension.
"I'm calm."
"Then tell us what's going on," Hill said, his sharp eyes fixed on Johan.
Johan hesitated. They weren't going to let it go. "Fine," he said, his voice clipped.
When he finally explained, the reaction was swift. Arthit's brows shot up, and he let out a long whistle. "Oh. So that's what's been bothering you."
"Are you surprised?" Johan asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Not really," Arthit replied. "He lied, you got angry, and now you're dragging us into it. Sounds about right."
"Doesn't he know?" Hill cut in, his tone more serious.
"Know what?" Johan asked, feigning ignorance.
"That you care about him this much."
Johan's jaw tightened, and he looked away. "I'm too lazy to explain it."
Hill chuckled. "That's a terrible excuse. So, he doesn't know, huh?"
"Enough, Hill."
"What did he do to upset you so much?" Arthit asked, leaning in.
"He's working part-time. Secretly."
Arthit blinked. "That's it?"
Johan's frown deepened. "He's working at a bar."
"So what?" Arthit asked, clearly unimpressed.
"It's a bar!" Johan snapped, his frustration spilling over.
Arthit shrugged. "Yeah, and?"
Johan's hands balled into fists. "BASTARD. I'm not explaining this anymore."
Hill raised an eyebrow. "You're worried, aren't you? That's what this is about. You're too stubborn to say it, but we can all see it."
"Worried?" Johan shot back. "Who says I'm worried?"
Hill smirked. "Your face says it all. And you're probably keeping tabs on him even now, aren't you?"
Johan glared. Hill wasn't wrong, but admitting it felt like conceding defeat.
"Look," Hill continued, his tone softening, "he's probably fine. He can take care of himself, even if he doesn't realize you're always watching out for him."
That hit a nerve. Johan bristled, his anger momentarily overshadowed by a flicker of guilt.
"How do you know so much about me?" Johan demanded. "What are you, some kind of spy?"
Hill laughed. "You're not as mysterious as you think."
Johan slumped back in his seat, exhaling heavily. His mind drifted back to the night he'd picked North up from the bar. The memory burned like a fresh wound.
"When I picked him up that night," Johan began, his voice low, "there was a fight. He was drunk out of his mind, causing a scene because of his ex. If I hadn't shown up, he could've been expelled—or worse."
Arthit and Hill fell silent, the weight of Johan's words settling over the table.
"He doesn't think," Johan continued, his anger rekindling. "He doesn't realize the kind of trouble he could've gotten into. And now he's working at that same place?"
Arthit sighed. "Okay, yeah, that's serious. But..."
"But what?"
Arthit hesitated, then grinned. "Why him? Out of everyone, why does he get under your skin so much?"
Johan scowled. "Don't start."
Hill chuckled. "It's obvious. You care about him more than you're willing to admit. That's why you're losing your mind over this."
"Shut up," Johan muttered, reaching for his drink.
The table fell into an uneasy silence. Arthit and Hill exchanged knowing glances, but they didn't press further.
⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ⊹⋆.˚
North slipped his phone into his pocket and left the parking lot, wandering aimlessly before finding a spot at a nearby marble table. The cool stone felt reassuring under his palm, but the fleeting comfort didn't last. The morning air was pleasant now, but North could already feel the sun gaining strength.
In an hour, the heat would become unbearable.
He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, the questions swirling in his mind. Why had he even bothered waking up this early? He didn't have any classes until the afternoon, and there was no reason to be here. Well, no reason besides Johan.
North groaned softly, sitting up straight and pulling out his phone again. He scrolled through his contacts, biting his lip as he weighed his options.
"Ter?" He shook his head. "No car. Useless."
He considered Kyu and Chai but dismissed them just as quickly. They'd ask too many questions, prying into his reasons for being on campus so early.
They'd push and prod until he told them the truth—something he wasn't in the mood for. Finally, his thumb hovered over Duen Nao's name. He hesitated, then pressed the call button. The line rang once, twice—
"What?" came the groggy, irritated voice on the other end. "I just went to bed at four. What do you want?"
"Oh, yeah? Up playing all night again?" North teased, trying to sound casual.
"Damn right. I've only got a lecture in the afternoon. My eyes hurt. Now, why are you calling? If it's to bother me, I swear I'll—"
"Wait! Listen first," North interrupted.
"Fine. What is it?"
"Pick me up?" North asked, the words coming out faster than he intended.
"I'm stuck here. Alone. Lonely."
"Lonely? What am I, your husband?"
"What the hell are you talking about? I'm serious. Just pick me up."
"Now? Where are you?"
"On campus," North admitted, trying to sound pitiful.
"What? P'Johan dropped you off and then left?"
"Yes," North said, huffing. "And now I'm stranded."
"Walk, then."
"From the Faculty of Medicine to Engineering? Are you crazy? The heat will kill me."
"I'm lazy," Duen Nao shot back. "Hey, Ger's got a morning lecture. Maybe he can pick you up."
"Oh, great. Just dump your responsibilities onto someone else."
"Shut up, ai sat!"
"What? Are you cursing me now?" North snapped, voice rising in mock outrage. He could hear muffled noises in the background—a mix of rustling, muttered curses, and something suspiciously like a groan.
"Wait, what's that sound?" North asked, his brow furrowing. "What's going on over there?"
"That's Tiger," Duen Nao replied, his tone nonchalant.
"What's wrong with him?"
"I kicked him."
"What? Why?" North demanded, his voice betraying a mix of disbelief and suppressed laughter.
"I was half asleep! Damn it, I didn't even realize he was lying next to me."
North couldn't hold it in anymore. He burst out laughing, earning an annoyed huff from Duen Nao.
"Stupid Tiger," North said between chuckles. "Can't even hug someone secretly without getting hurt."
"Tiger, get up!" Duen Nao barked in the background.
"Let me sleep!" Tiger's voice groaned faintly through the line.
"Ugh. Fine, when do you have class?" Duen Nao asked, clearly at the end of his patience.
"Why?" Tiger replied suspiciously.
"Can you pick up North? He's stranded at the Faculty of Medicine."
North stared at his phone, the screen still glowing from his last message.
"None of my business, different direction, waste of gasoline," Duen Nao had muttered before passing the call to Tiger. Typical. North sighed, a mixture of resignation and mild annoyance tightening his chest.
Tiger's voice came on the line, carrying his usual mix of exasperation and charm. "Oh, you idiot," North quipped, unable to resist a playful jab.
Tiger groaned. "This usually doesn't happen. I always wake up first! Did you call him just to ruin my morning? You've destroyed my happiness!"
North couldn't help but laugh. "How was I supposed to know? Anyway, come pick me up. I'm in front of the Faculty of Medicine."
Tiger grumbled, clearly unimpressed. "What should I do to the person who's ruined my happiness?"
"Tell you what," North replied with a smirk, "I could say something to Duen Nao if you don't."
"Don't you dare!" Tiger warned, his tone sharp but laced with humor.
"Alright, fine. I'll come get you, but you owe me. And wait at the campus entrance."
"Don't forget the green tea," North added cheekily, knowing it would rile him up further.
"Basic, asshole," Tiger muttered before the line went dead.
After what felt like ages, North spotted Tiger riding up on his motorcycle. The roar of the engine and Tiger's characteristic swagger were impossible to miss. North raised an eyebrow as Tiger handed him a helmet.
"You're lucky," Tiger said with mock gravity. "I don't let just anyone ride my bike."
"Oh, sure. I see Duen Nao on here all the time," North shot back, noting the flash of irritation on Tiger's face.
"He doesn't count," Tiger retorted, flipping his hair in mock arrogance.
"And this helmet? I bought it just for him."
North chuckled as he adjusted the helmet. "So considerate," he teased, climbing onto the bike. Tiger revved the engine, and they sped off toward the cafeteria.
When they arrived, North was struck by the unusually long queue at the coffee stand. Tiger, however, seemed unfazed.
"I'm not waiting in that line," Tiger announced.
"Why not? You're already here," North countered, eyeing the crowd. "Just get me a green tea, a sandwich, and some snacks. I'm starving."
Tiger sighed dramatically. "You're so lazy," he grumbled but joined the line nonetheless.
Moments later, North was surprised to see Tiger return with everything in hand. "How'd you manage that so quickly?"
"People let me go first," Tiger said nonchalantly, placing the snacks on the table. "Perks of being handsome."
North rolled his eyes. "Oh, the power of good looks. Truly awe-inspiring."
Tiger smirked. "You're just jealous."
As they ate, Tiger eyed North's sweater. "Nice sweater," he remarked, reaching out to feel the material. "Isn't this a limited edition?"
North glanced down at the oversized garment. "It's not mine," he admitted.
"Just borrowed it."
"Limited edition from the UK," Tiger murmured, a hint of envy in his voice.
"I couldn't get it when it released. My dad wouldn't let me order it."
"Want to buy it?" North joked. "Ten thousand."
Tiger's eyes lit up. "Deal! What's your account number?"
North blinked in disbelief. "Are you serious?"
"Of course. Though, now that I think about it, that's too cheap. Is it fake?"
Tiger examined the sweater more closely.
"It's not for sale," North clarified, shaking his head. "And it's definitely not mine to sell."
Tiger leaned back, looking mildly disappointed. "Figures. Probably your boyfriend's, huh?"
"Stop talking nonsense," North shot back, exasperated.
Their banter continued until Tiger's class time approached. As he left, North stayed behind, sipping his green tea and scrolling through his phone. His thoughts wandered to Johan and the inexplicable increase in his debt.
Just as he was about to message Johan again, Tiger called out, "Hey, don't forget to play nice, North. Your sweater's looking good, by the way."
North waved him off with a laugh, the morning's events settling into the usual chaos that followed him everywhere.
⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ⊹⋆.˚
09:03 A.M.
North sat alone beneath the engineering faculty building, a restless figure amid the crowd of students passing by. His phone screen lit up with unread messages, but there were no replies.
[NORTH]: I don't want to disturb you.
[NORTH]: But please explain about the debt.
The messages hung there, read but unanswered. North frowned and tapped out another:
[NORTH]: Then what about this three thousand baht? You gave it to me, but you forgot to take it. Can I pay you back? Haha.
Again, nothing but silence. The only indication Johan had seen it was the read receipt.
"Just kidding," North muttered under his breath. "Who would do that?" He sent the follow-up anyway. Still no response.
The hours dragged. North sat hunched over, surrounded by noise, but lost in his own thoughts. Why had Johan brought him to campus so early when his classes didn't start until the afternoon? It felt like a cruel joke. He glanced at his phone for the hundredth time. "Read." Again. No reply.
By noon, his phone vibrated. North's heart skipped a beat. Johan had finally responded.
[JOHAN]: Why did you write me a message? Do you have that much free time?
North exhaled sharply, suppressing the urge to throw his phone. Instead, he typed back:
[NORTH]: Yes. I have a lot of free time.
Johan's response was as curt as ever.
[JOHAN]: Good. Go and make yourself useful.
North couldn't help but grin as he continued typing.
[NORTH]: Wow! I have a lot of questions. Why are you adding my money? How did that happen? Why? Why are you doing this? It's triple. I still can't think of anything.
[NORTH]: Please tell me. I won't ask again. T^T.
Johan's silence returned. North groaned in frustration, his stomach growling. Lunch was long overdue, but he couldn't bring himself to spend Johan's money—not when there was a chance he might ask for it back.
Finally, his phone pinged.
[JOHAN]: Who is it?
[NORTH]: Huh?
[JOHAN]: Black Ninja.
[NORTH]: What?
Ah. Johan must have spotted Tiger's motorbike.
[NORTH]: That's Tiger. Why?
Johan's next message caught North off guard.
[JOHAN]: Have you eaten?
The sudden normalcy of Johan's tone almost brought tears to North's eyes.
Their exchanges were rarely this... human.
[NORTH]: Not yet, Phi...
Their brief interaction ended as abruptly as it began. Johan read North's updates but didn't reply again. North shook his head. Johan's moods were impossible to predict.
By 4:23 P.M., North was sitting in a stuffy classroom, his head resting on the desk. The air-conditioning was set to Arctic levels, and he regretted not wearing a heavier sweater. Next to him, Duen Nao sat shivering.
"North," Duen Nao called.
"What?" North muttered.
"Give me your sweater."
"Why?"
"I'm cold. I have the flu."
North smirked. "Oh, I see. I'm North. Nice to meet you."
Duen Nao groaned. "Don't make jokes. Just give me the sweater."
After a brief back-and-forth, North relented, borrowing a sweater from Tiger on Duen Nao's behalf. "This is why I don't like lending my stuff,"
North muttered, watching Duen Nao wrap himself in the oversized garment.
North's phone buzzed again. Johan was checking in.
[JOHAN]: Where are you?
[NORTH]: On campus. I'm studying.
[JOHAN]: What time do you finish?
[NORTH]: Half six.
[JOHAN]: Where will you go when you're done?
North hesitated before replying.
[NORTH]: I might eat something. After that, I'll go to work.
[JOHAN]: With Ter?
[NORTH]: Yes. P'Hill is coming to get me."
Johan's response came quickly.
[JOHAN]: You let Hill come pick you up?
[NORTH]: Yeah... As usual. Why?
Johan's bluntness was unmatched.
[JOHAN]: You're troublesome.
By the end of the day, Johan offered to pick North up himself, sparing him the usual arrangement with Hill. As North waited outside the faculty building, his thoughts raced. Johan's brusque demeanor always left him guessing, but moments like this—a ride, an offer to help—were rare glimpses of the man behind the sharp words.