The festival started too early.
That's what it felt like.
Too loud.Too bright.Too many people pretending everything was fun.
"Why are there so many people?" Phuwin muttered, adjusting the sign for the third time.
"Because it's a festival," Krit said. "That's literally the point."
"I hate this."
"No, you don't."
"I do."
"You don't."
Mali stepped between them. "Can you both focus? The sign is fine."
"It's not straight," Phuwin said.
"It's fine."
"It's crooked."
"It's character."
Their booth was simple:
Ring toss.Plastic bottles.Bright lights.
Too bright.
Too fake.
"Step right up!" Krit shouted suddenly.
Phuwin flinched. "Why are you yelling?!"
"Because we need customers!"
"You're embarrassing!"
"That's the strategy!"
Mali laughed despite herself.
For a moment—
It felt normal again.
Until—
"Hi."
Phuwin froze.
That voice.
Arthit stood at the edge of the booth.
Holding tickets.
Like a stranger.
"…You're playing?" Krit asked.
"Yeah," Arthit said.
Casual.
Too casual.
Phuwin turned away slightly. "…It's twenty baht."
Arthit nodded. "Okay."
He stepped forward.
Picked up the rings.
Silence.
Even with all the noise around them—
it felt quiet.
Arthit threw the first ring.
Missed.
Krit smirked. "Skill issue."
Mali elbowed him. "Be nice."
Second throw.
Closer.
Still missed.
Phuwin watched.
Without meaning to.
Third throw—
It landed.
Perfect.
"…Oh," Phuwin said softly.
Arthit glanced at him.
Just for a second.
"…Guess I got lucky," he said.
Krit handed him a small prize. "Congratulations. You win something completely useless."
Arthit smiled faintly. "Thanks."
Then—
He stepped back.
Like he wasn't sure if he should stay.
Or go.
He left.
And somehow—
that felt worse than him being there.
"Okay," Krit said. "That was awkward."
"Very," Mali agreed.
Phuwin didn't say anything.
The day went on.
Customers came.
Laughed.
Played.
Left.
But something felt off.
By evening—
The lights looked softer.
The noise less sharp.
The sky turning darker.
"Take a break," Mali said, nudging Phuwin.
"I'm fine."
"You've been standing for hours."
"I said I'm fine."
Krit looked at him. "…Go."
Phuwin sighed. "You guys are so annoying."
"Correct," they said.
He walked away.
Past the booths.
Past the lights.
Past the noise.
Until—
It was quieter.
A bench.
Near the edge of the school.
Dim lights.
Soft air.
Phuwin sat down.
Exhaled.
Long.
Slow.
"…I hate this," he whispered.
No one answered.
He looked at his phone.
Opened the chat.
Scrolled.
Stopped.
"I think we should stop."
Still there.
Still the same.
"…Why wasn't I enough?" he said quietly.
That was it.
That was the question.
Not what happened.
Not why it ended.
Just—
Why wasn't I enough?
His chest tightened.
His throat burned.
His eyes—
"…I really tried," he whispered.
And this time—
He didn't stop it.
The tears came.
Quiet.
Fast.
Messy.
No audience.
No jokes.
No pretending.
Just him.
And the truth he didn't want to say out loud.
"I liked you more," he admitted.
Voice breaking.
"…I think I always did."
He wiped his face quickly.
Like someone might see.
Even though no one was there.
"…This is so embarrassing," he laughed weakly.
But it didn't feel funny.
"…Phuwin?"
He froze.
Of course.
Of course.
Arthit stood a few steps away.
Like he didn't mean to be there.
Like he didn't know what to do.
"…I didn't know you were here," Arthit said.
Phuwin looked away immediately, wiping his face again. "Yeah. Well. Now you do."
Silence.
Arthit hesitated.
Then—
"…Can I sit?"
Phuwin almost said no.
Almost.
"…Do whatever you want," he muttered.
Arthit sat.
Not too close.
Not too far.
The space between them—
felt heavy.
"…You shouldn't see me like this," Phuwin said quietly.
Arthit frowned slightly. "Why?"
"Because it's embarrassing."
"It's not."
"It is."
Another pause.
"…I didn't mean to hurt you," Arthit said.
Phuwin let out a small laugh. "You did."
"I know."
"Then why—"
He stopped.
Shook his head.
"…Never mind."
Arthit looked at him.
Really looked.
(Arthit's POV)
He didn't expect this.
Didn't expect to see him like this.
Didn't expect it to hurt this much.
Phuwin looked smaller.
Not physically.
Just…
quieter.
Arthit swallowed.
"…I didn't know how to say it," he admitted.
Phuwin didn't look at him.
"…So you sent a text."
"I know that was wrong."
"Yeah."
Arthit exhaled slowly.
"…It didn't feel the same anymore."
Phuwin's hands tightened slightly.
"There it is," he said. "That sentence."
"I didn't mean it like that," Arthit continued.
"Then what did you mean?"
Silence.
Because even now—
he didn't have the right words.
"…I think you felt more than I could give," Arthit said finally.
Honest.
Careful.
Late.
Phuwin let out a breath.
"…So I was too much."
"No."
"That's what people are saying."
"I don't care what people are saying."
"I do."
Another silence.
"…You weren't too much," Arthit said. "I just wasn't enough."
Phuwin blinked.
That—
he didn't expect.
"…That doesn't make it better," he said quietly.
"I know."
(Back to normal POV)
The air felt different now.
Still heavy.
But clearer.
Phuwin wiped his face again.
"…I really liked you," he said.
Arthit nodded. "…I know."
"And I don't regret it," Phuwin added.
That surprised even him.
Arthit looked at him.
"…You don't?"
Phuwin shook his head slightly.
"…I just wish it didn't end like that."
Silence.
Soft.
Real.
In the distance—
The festival continued.
Lights.
Laughter.
Music.
Here—
It was just them.
And everything they didn't say before.
"…I don't think I understand love," Phuwin admitted.
Arthit gave a small, tired smile. "…Me neither."
For the first time—
They were honest at the same time.
Not together.
Not the same.
But…
real.
"…They're probably looking for me," Phuwin said after a while.
"Yeah."
He stood up.
Slowly.
"…Take care," he said.
Same words.
Different feeling.
Arthit nodded.
"…You too."
Phuwin walked away.
Back toward the lights.
The noise.
His friends.
And maybe—
just maybe—
a version of himself that was starting to understand things a little more.
Not fully.
Not clearly.
But enough.
End of Chapter 10