Me and Thee: English translation.

Wake up call #35

 

Peach lay sprawled on the floor, arms and legs stretched out, staring blankly at the white ceiling above. A whirlwind of emotions swirled inside him, leaving him more confused than ever.

 

Earlier that afternoon, he'd caught a glimpse of the mafia sitting alone, looking heartbreakingly dejected. Even though Peach had already texted to say he couldn't make it for lunch, Thee never complained. He just sat there, quietly eating by himself, wearing such a lonely expression that guilt twisted in Peach's chest. Maybe he felt a bit sorry for him, or perhaps there was a hint of fondness mixed in, too.

 

After finishing his shoot, Peach decided to bring up two bags of snacks he'd saved from that morning. One was meant for Mok, while the other... Well, if the mafia wasn't too busy, he thought they could share it. When did I start thinking about Mr Thee this much?

 

The thought lingered as he walked through the hallway. He'd never been to Mr Thee's office before, but Mok had given him directions long ago, even reassuring him he was welcome anytime. If Mr Thee was with a client, Peach should give Mok a heads-up, but otherwise, there was no need to hesitate. Though he found the invitation puzzling at first, memories of Thee's recent behaviour stirred something in his chest. It felt...like being courted. 

 

Mr Thee never said anything directly, but his actions spoke louder than words. He listened attentively, went out of his way to protect Peach, sometimes a bit too dramatically, but always with genuine care. Peach had never been pursued by a man before, yet the thought didn't unsettle him. Quite the opposite—it stirred something warm and uncertain deep within, leaving him off balance.

 

He was still sorting out his emotions, unsure where they might lead. But one thing was clear: he was willing to try. He wouldn't rush himself or force any answers. Instead, he'd let his feelings grow naturally, step by step. If one day they blossomed into something more... he'd welcome it with an open heart.

 

The young photographer paused in front of the office door, noticing it wasn't fully closed. He hesitated, debating whether to knock or peek inside to see if Mr Thee was busy. If there were guests, he'd leave quietly. What he didn't expect was to see a beautiful-faced model standing in the middle of the office, crying. His steps faltered. Should he intervene? 

Yet, the mention of "Tawan" in their heated conversation rooted him to the spot. Fear widened his eyes. He only knew about the legal battles; he had no idea things had escalated into physical violence.

 

His brows furrowed as he silently vowed to get to the bottom of this. He understood Thee's temper; being a mafia boss came with its extremes, but the thought that Thee might've gone too far gnawed at his conscience. A part of him couldn't shake the feeling that this might somehow be his fault.

 

He was about to push the door open when the model's rising voice made him pause. Confronting a mafia boss head-on wasn't a great idea. But what he heard next made his hand freeze mid-air.

 

"Why?! Don't you like me??"

 

"...I was only interested in dragging you into my bed..."

 

"So, are you willing to crawl into my bed to save your precious actor?"

 

The photographer stood there, paralysed, ears ringing as though the world had gone silent except for the hollow echo of those words. His mind went blank, and a sharp ache bloomed in his chest. Even when the conversation made it clear that the mafia had lost interest in the model, the weight in his heart didn't lift.

 

Confusion crashed over him, mingling with a suffocating sense of helplessness. When Thee suddenly appeared in front of him, words dried up in his throat. He felt clumsy, awkward, too overwhelmed to meet Thee's eyes. In the end, he did the only thing he could: he turned and ran. He needed space to gather himself, to sort through the chaos in his mind.

 

Peach, are you gonna tell me why you're here or what?" The young woman called out as she walked closer, eventually squatting beside him. "You suddenly packed up and ran off to crash at a girl's place. If Mr Thee finds out, he's gonna flip."

 

The mention of that name made him flinch, his gaze darting away instinctively. Unfortunately, his little sister, having grown up with him her whole life, could read him like a book. Her eyes narrowed, and she scooted in even closer.

 

"What happened? Spill it." Plub shifted to sit cross-legged, resting her chin on one hand with a mischievous smirk. 

 

"Consider it the price for staying here tonight."

 

Peach, never one to successfully hide anything from his sister, especially after showing up unannounced with an overnight bag, finally caved and recounted everything he'd been through.

 

"You feel guilty about Tawan, don't you?" Plub tilted her head thoughtfully, arms crossed. 

 

"I kinda get it... But honestly, you've got nothing to feel bad about. He was the one who hurt you first! I still wanna punch him myself."

 

"Yeah, but he only hit me once. It didn't have to go that far." His mouth tightened, unease clouding his face.

 

"What's one punch to you probably felt like the end of the world to Mr Thee." She muttered, almost to herself. Noticing his puzzled expression, she quickly changed tack. 

 

"Look, I'll admit Mr Thee went overboard. But let's be real-someone who punches first without thinking, doesn't feel sorry, never apologises, and even sends his lawyer and agent to clean up his mess... that kind of person needs a serious wake-up call."

 

"Still... putting someone in the ICU is too much." Peach's faint smile was tinged with guilt, and he dropped his gaze. "The worst part is... a tiny part of me thought, 'Serves him right."

 

Plub frowned but didn't argue. Instead, she grabbed her phone, scrolled through her messaging app, and pulled up a conversation.

 

"Here, read this. It's the latest press release. Tawan has a fractured hand and some bruises—not life-threatening. He needs a splint and some physical therapy, but he might not recover soon."

 

Peach took the phone and read carefully. The messages were from a journalist, and, as a trusted entertainment journalist, Plub often contacted her to dig up reliable info on actors and models her brand worked with.

 

Plub asked about Tawan. He skimmed past a few harsh words with a slight frown. The reply she got was straightforward: apart from his injured right hand, the rest of his injuries weren't that serious. He only spent a night in the ICU because he'd looked pretty banged up when they first found him. By the next day, he was moved to a regular hospital room. Peach's mouth fell open a little. The story he was hearing felt worlds apart from what he'd imagined.

 

"But Aran..." He felt the need to protest, sensing something still wasn't right.

 

"Peach, you never follow celebrity gossip, do you?"

 

He blinked, silently admitting she was right. He'd never kept up with entertainment news; everything he knew came from Plub playing the all-knowing informant. Right now, that informant leaned in conspiratorially, cupping her hand like she was about to spill some juicy celebrity tea even though they were the only two people in the room.

 

"Tawan's mom hates Aran's guts. She's never accepted that her son likes men. She's been blocking them and hurling insults at every opportunity. When Tawan got hospitalised this time, Aran wasn't even allowed to visit." Plub shrugged. "I'm betting she pressured Aran somehow. Probably fed him some sob story about Tawan being critically injured, then sent him off to mess with Thee. Maybe she was hoping Thee would change his mind and help with her business."

 

Peach's jaw dropped. He couldn't believe anyone would stoop that low, low-deliberately, throwing Aran to the wolves, hoping the mafia boss would work out his anger on him. If the mafia cooled down afterwards, Tawan's mom might come out on top.

 

"Breaking his wrist was definitely harsh. But as for pressing charges and cutting ties, I don't think that was over the line." Plub admitted while pouring two glasses of water. She handed one to her brother. "But there's gotta be more to it. If it were just about Tawan, someone like you would've dragged him in for a serious talk, not run off like this."

 

Peach offered a faint, uneasy smile. Both of them had faced plenty of life's cruelties as orphans. They'd seen the darker side of the world enough times that hearing about a mafia boss beating someone up wouldn't make him bolt.

 

He might seem gentle, but he wasn't naive. He understood how brutal the world could be, and honestly, he didn't even blame the mafia for losing control. If someone had hurt Plub, and he'd had enough power, wouldn't he have done the same? At the very least, they would've asked Thee to go easier; he still felt guilty about how far things had gone.

 

With a weary sigh, Peach ran a hand over his face, trying to erase the lingering memory of Thee's harsh voice echoing in his mind-the way he'd propositioned Aran like it meant nothing. Even though he knew Mr Thee had backed off afterwards, the bitter taste of that moment still clung stubbornly to his chest.

 

"I heard Mr Thee tell Aran to sleep with him," he admitted quietly, guilt and discomfort weighing down his words. 

 

"He was probably mad... said it in the heat of the moment... but still... I hated hearing it."

 

He'd told himself long ago that he could deal with whatever Thee threw his way. But hearing it firsthand was a different story. It stung far more than he'd expected, so much that the thought of seeing Thee again felt like too much. He was afraid Thee would show up at his condo like he always did, so he'd grabbed his stuff and fled to Plub's place instead.

 

Not fled. He was regrouping. Definitely just catching my breath. Plub raised an eyebrow, then slid down next to him, resting a gentle hand on the back of his. Her fingers traced soothing circles.

 

"I think you like Mr Thee now."

 

The words hit like a punch, making Peach flinch. He snapped his head toward her, eyes wide, cheeks flushing hot in an instant.

 

"What?!"

 

"You like Mr Thee. If you didn't, why would you be so upset?" Plub rolled onto her stomach, propping her chin on her hands with a teasing smirk. Her grin widened. 

 

"Come on, three-time Best Advisor of the Year, and now you can't even figure out your own feelings?"

 

Peach opened his mouth, then shut it again. His mind scrambled for a comeback, but even denying that he liked Thee felt like a lie he couldn't utter. He'd never lied to his sister. He always told Plub to be honest with herself. He couldn't start lying to her now.

 

"No, Plub, it's just a good feeling, that's all," he murmured, eyes drifting toward the window. "He and I are... worlds apart. Even if what he did to Tawan made sense, a part of me is still scared. What if someday he looks away from me? What if the blade he's used on others ends up cutting me instead... especially since I'm a guy too?"

 

"You can't keep thinking about all that by yourself. You have to let him share the burden, too." Plub frowned, pushing herself up to sit cross-legged. "I think Thee really cares about you. Why not try talking it out?" Peach turned to meet her gaze, a faint, tender smile tugging at his lips.

 

"Thank you. You're the best little sister anyone could ask for." He opened his arms, and Plub happily burrowed into his shoulder, hugging him tight.

 

"You're going to talk to Mr Thee, right?" she asked, her voice muffled against his shirt.

 

"Yeah, I think I have to. But give me a few days to get my head together first. You're not kicking me out in the meantime, are you?"

 

Plub giggled mischievously, pushing herself upright. Her wide, doe-like eyes gleamed with a sly spark, hinting at something crafty brewing in her mind.

 

"Peach, let me be the one to tell Mr Thee that you want to talk."

 

"Huh?" He made a questioning sound but didn't outright refuse.

 

Plub's smirk widened, a near-perfect mirror of his own teasing expression when he was up to something.

 

"I’ll let him know. At the very least, let me size up my potential brother-in-law," she chirped, practically radiating excitement. 

 

Her grin stretched so wide her eyes crinkled. Peach, already blushing from embarrassment, could only groan inwardly. There was no stopping her when she was like this anyway.