Me and Thee: English translation.

Wake up call #11

 

Thee had never been ignored by anyone before. Sitting cross-legged in the car, his iPad open to a document in his hand, he couldn't seem to focus on a single word. Everything around him was quiet, too quiet, actually. No distractions. Nothing at all to break the silence. It was too silent. He snuck a glance at the young photographer sitting next to him. Ever since they'd left the restaurant, Peach had gone unusually quiet, avoiding eye contact and pulling away. Even now, as they sat together in the car, there was nothing but this oppressive quiet between them.

 

Normally, Peach wasn't much of a talker either. When they shared rides like this, silence was a given. But back then, Peach's presence felt... warm. Like sitting under a big, shady tree on a sunny day, quiet, sure, but peaceful and calming. This time, though, it wasn't like that. This silence wasn't warm or comfortable. It was suffocating, and Thee hated it.

 

He stole another glance at Peach's face. Objectively, he was handsome, maybe not the type to turn heads in a crowd, but his looks were undeniably pleasant. Fair skin, slightly narrow almond-shaped eyes, always glinting with a soft sparkle.

Thee had always liked those eyes.

 

He liked the way they reflected him, as if he could see himself clearly within them.

But now? There wasn't even a shadow of him left in those eyes. The mafia boss let his gaze trail lower, down to Peach's slender shoulders, before stopping at his wrist. The red marks stood out starkly, the shape of Thee's fingers still visible. Peach's pale complexion made the bruising all the more vivid, almost startling.

 

Thee pressed his lips together, suddenly feeling like he should say something. Thee pulled his gaze back to the iPad in his hand, but no matter how hard he tried, he still couldn't focus on the document in front of him. His thoughts kept circling back to Peach. Before long, the car rolled to a stop. It looked like they'd arrived at the place Peach had mentioned earlier. Thee had offered to drop him off, but Peach had declined, saying he needed to pick up his sister's car and didn't want to be a bother. Bother? Thee had offered! People practically begged for the chance to ride with him, and this guy turned him down?

 

"I appreciate the ride. Thank you, Mr Mok," Peach said, bowing his head slightly toward Thee before flashing a faint smile at Mok, Thee's bodyguard-slash-secretary, who was doubling as their driver tonight. Thee's brow furrowed instantly when he caught Mok smiling back at Peach through the rearview mirror. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get a word out, Peach had already opened the door and stepped out.

 

Thee watched as Peach shut the door and walked into the shop. He didn't look away until he saw Peach disappear inside. Only then did he nod for Mok to drive off.

For the fourth time, his eyes skimmed the same line of text on the iPad without registering a single word. Frustrated, he snapped the device shut and crossed his arms, fixing Mok with a sharp glare that could cut glass.

 

"How long have you two been friends?"

 

His voice was calm, almost eerily so, but the icy undertone could send a lesser man crumbling to the floor in a panic. Mok, however, was used to this kind of mood from his boss. Even so, he couldn't help but tense his shoulders slightly, choosing his words with extra care.

 

"We're not friends, sir. We've met twice," Mok said evenly before adding, "Mr Peach has a good memory for faces. He mentioned I gave him a ride once before and wanted to thank me for that."

 

Thee's gaze lowered, and he didn't press further. He already knew Peach had a way of being effortlessly friendly with people. The guy was easy to talk to, quick to smile, and always seemed to have this natural instinct to look after others. Thee pressed his lips together, unable to stop himself from thinking about dinner earlier. It was the first time someone had genuinely cared whether he'd eaten or not. Even though Peach had been upset, he still grilled the meat and put it on Thee's plate, like he somehow knew Thee wasn't used to doing such things for himself.

 

Plenty of people tried to please him, but Peach's actions had มีสติหน่อยคุณชีร์ English version felt so natural. For once, it didn't make him feel annoyed or uncomfortable. That was new. His thoughts drifted back to the red marks on Peach's wrist, clear and angry against his pale skin. Thee frowned, irritation bubbling up again.

 

"Send him some decent bruise ointment tonight," he said, his tone casual, almost detached. "And make sure someone delivers it personally."

 

Mok responded with a quiet acknowledgement, long past being surprised by Thee's occasional flashes of unusual kindness. The secretary decided to commit this moment to memory. Peach might not have any official status in Thee's life yet, and the air between them today had been thick with unspoken tension, but Mok was certain of one thing: this photographer would become someone important to his boss sooner or later. He figured it might be wise to start preparing to welcome a future "boss" into their lives.

 

Peach followed the pin his sister had sent, arriving at the bar-restaurant she'd mentioned. The place had a rooftop barbecue area on the second floor, with live music from the lower level echoing up to the open-air space above. He headed straight upstairs, scanning the area until he spotted her instantly. His sister was petite, barely reaching his shoulder, with a slim frame dressed in an oversized shirt and fitted pants. Her hair had bright red highlights that shimmered under the lights, and her face, dotted with faint freckles, was framed by large, round silver glasses.

 

Her entire look was a chaotic mix of styles, but somehow, she made it work. Then again, it suited her, considering she'd graduated from a fine arts program and now worked in an art department.

 

"You drunk, Plub?" he asked, planting a hand on his hip and narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Plub beamed up at him, her grin so wide it nearly closed her eyes, and she raised her glass to show him.

 

"Two draft beers. You think that's enough to get me drunk?" she teased, drawing out her words in a playful sing-song. He chuckled under his breath, exchanging greetings with his sister's coworkers in an easygoing manner. They all shuffled around to make space for him to sit, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

 

This wasn't the first time he'd come to pick Plub up. With just the two of them in the family, it was only natural for him to be protective. Still, they'd learned to give each other enough space not to feel stifled. But one rule had always remained unspoken: every time Plub went out drinking, whether she was tipsy or stone-cold sober-even if it was just one drink-she'd call him to pick her up, and he never said no. Not once. He'd also worked with Plub's team plenty of times before, helping out with small tasks that made him practically an honorary backup member of their crew.

 

"So, what's the celebration about tonight?" he asked, waving off a drink one of her coworkers offered him. He had to drive Plub home, and there was no way he was taking any chances with alcohol in his system.

 

"Nuch's quitting," Plub replied, her plate piled high with food as she plopped herself down beside him, squishing into the tight space. She shoved the plate into his hands. 

 

"We'll probably hang out for a bit longer. You should eat something, Peach. Don't tell me you just woke up. I've told you to stop pulling all-nighters, haven't I?"

 

Peach, still full from the pricey barbecue earlier, shook his head and declined the food. His sister squinted at him suspiciously.

 

"You've already eaten? What'd you havé? If you tell me it was instant noodles again, I swear I'll smack you."

He blinked at her, scrambling internally to come up with an answer. If he admitted to eating barbecue, he'd never hear the end of it. Plub knew he rarely left the house, let alone went out for something as indulgent as a barbecue meal on his own. But the alternative wasn't much better. If he said he'd gone with someone, she'd demand to know who, and by letting the mafia's name slip would only open up a whole new can of worms. The young man hesitated for a moment before forcing a dry smile and sidestepping the question entirely. Instead, he quickly changed the subject.

 

"So, why's Nuch quitting?"

 

He was referring to the project lead, someone he'd worked with three or four times before. Nuch was brilliant, with sharp decision-making, strong leadership, and an always-out-for-her-team attitude. Everyone who worked on a project with her was thrilled.

 

"She's pregnant and wants to focus on getting ready for the baby," Plub answered, going along with the topic switch without much fuss. "At first, Nuch wasn't even going to take on the All Season's One Word project, you know? But after you helped brainstorm the concept, she decided to do it. And now that the fall collection turned out so great, she feels confident leaving things behind and just quitting."

 

The All Seasons One Word project, a big campaign that paired perfume with matching jewellery, was massive. It included four seasonal mini-ad campaigns, and the main advertising strategy, concept, and even rough storyboards. All his work. Honestly, he'd only been messing around at the time. He'd wrapped up all his other jobs and had nothing else on his plate when Nuch pitched the project. 

 

Chatting casually with Plub, ideas started flowing, and he spun the concept out for fun. He hadn't expected her to actually take it into the meeting, let alone for the team to greenlight it!

 

"So, who's taking over the team now?" he asked, cracking open the can of Coke Plub had handed him and taking a sip. His mind ran through a list of people he knew who might step up as the new lead. A change in leadership sometimes meant a shift in the entire team dynamic or, worse, a total overhaul of the project's direction.

 

"No idea yet. I'm kind of curious myself," Plub said casually, craning her neck to look around before enthusiastically waving someone over. "Nuch! Peach is here!"

Peach flicked his sister on the forehead, scolding her for calling out to her senior so casually, before quickly standing to greet Nucharin.

Nuch was tall and elegant, dressed in sleek, tailored pants that emphasised her long legs, with a short crop top under a fitted blazer. Her pixie cut was styled perfectly, giving her a chic, edgy vibe that turned heads. Who would've thought she was a soon-to-be mom already three months into her pregnancy?

 

"Congratulations, Nuch," Peach greeted her with a warm smile, glancing briefly at her midsection. With her pregnancy still in its early stages, there wasn't much of a visible change, but he couldn't help feeling excited.

 

"Thanks, Peach. But don't forget, this isn't just a farewell party for me, it's a thank-you party too." She flashed a wide, radiant smile, clearly in high spirits, before giving him a couple of hearty pats on the shoulder. "The campaign turned out amazing as usual. The feedback has been fantastic!"

 

"It's already out for promotion?" he asked, reflexively rubbing his shoulder. Nuch always had a heavy hand. He couldn't help but wonder how her kid would feel if they ever misbehaved and got a scolding slap. Then again, maybe she'd go easy. At least Plub had never been on the receiving end of those shoulder pats.

 

"The first promo images for the fall collection just dropped. The response has been phenomenal. We're wrapping up the ad shoot tomorrow, and after a few finishing touches, everything should be ready to launch at once."

 

"That's great to hear," Peach replied with a nod. As the person behind the concept, he always felt a sense of pride when he heard such positive feedback. "By the way, do you know who's taking over as team leader?"

 

The moment he asked, the mood around Nuch shifted. It was as if a cloud had suddenly descended over her usually sunny demeanour. She took his arm and led him a little way away from the table, her voice dropping to a near whisper.

 

"The new team lead hasn't been officially announced yet. They're still finalising it in the higher-ups' meetings. Tomorrow's team meeting is when they'll make the announcement. You should be there too." She paused, looking so uneasy that Peach felt compelled to offer her a reassuring smile.

 

"Don't worry, Nuch. You don't have to tell me now. I'll just show up tomorrow and find out with Plub in the meeting room."

 

Even though Peach had brushed it off lightly, his soon-to-be former boss wore a serious expression. "I've heard some things," Nuch admitted quietly. "I've tried to push back, really, but I'm afraid the odds aren't in my favour."

 

Peach frowned, now genuinely curious. Nuch was the kind of person who got along with everyone, so anyone she'd actively oppose to the point of being visibly worried had to be a big deal. She pressed her lips together, clearly uncomfortable, before giving his shoulder a couple more pats and speaking in a low, reassuring voice.

 

"Just brace yourself, alright? But don't overthink it. You're the most talented person I know. Seriously."

 

With that, she let out another long sigh and told him to go back and enjoy the party. Her expression shifted into a cheerful smile, and she seamlessly rejoined the others, chatting and laughing as though nothing had happened. Meanwhile, Peach was left standing there with a mountain of questions weighing on him, wondering if he'd even be able to sleep tonight.

 

The more she tried to console him, the more uneasy he felt. If she wanted to calm him down, she should've just spilt the beans. At least then he'd know what to prepare for. Peach sighed heavily, one particular name surfacing in his mind. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. What kind of rotten luck was today, anyway?