Me and Thee: English translation.

Wake up call #6

The Arseny Fall Collection fragrances were divided into four distinct advertising segments, with Aran serving as the brand ambassador for the season. While the promotional photo shoot had just wrapped up, there was still the commercial filming and additional photos to be taken for ongoing seasonal promotions.

Yesterday, there was a pre-filming meeting to finalise plans, and Peach, the lead photographer for the collection, was required to attend to prepare for capturing behind-the-scenes and promotional shots during filming. During that meeting, Peach caught sight of Aran holding an enormous bouquet. It was an elegant arrangement of various blooms in soft white tones, with nothing attached but a sleek black business card tucked discreetly among the flowers. The model looked visibly conflicted, likely wondering what to make of the gesture.

Yeah, the opponent was the Russian mafia boss, and the two had exchanged some heated words just a few days ago. Now, out of nowhere, a massive bouquet arrived with no card, no apology, just a cryptic business card indicating who sent it. Anyone receiving such a gift would understandably feel both confused and uncomfortable.

Peach rubbed his temples, resisting the urge to groan. He hadn't expected Thee to take his advice so literally. Couldn't he at least include a simple "I'm sorry" card!?

Taking a risk, Peach stepped in to defuse the situation, suggesting that perhaps the bouquet was Thee's way of apologising for their argument the other day. Aran's wide, doe-like eyes filled with scepticism as he grabbed Peach's arm and shook it, as if demanding how he could know that.

Before Peach could fully explain, Tawan showed up unexpectedly. The sight of Aran clutching the enormous bouquet in one arm and tightly gripping Peach's arm with the other was enough to set Tawan's temper on edge. The young photographer quickly disentangled himself and took three big steps back, blurting that the flowers weren't his!

The young actor turned and shot him a sharp glare before grabbing Peach by the arm and dragging him out of the office at lightning speed. On the way out, he snatched the bouquet and chucked it into the trash without a second thought.

Shouldn't he have asked him about it first? Sure, Aran was good-looking, but that didn't mean everyone in the world was head over heels for him the way Thee seemed to think. How many times did he have to explain himself before they'd actually listen? Honestly, maybe Mr Thee wasn't the only one who needed to get a grip.

Peach sighed and rubbed his temples, already considering carrying a smelling salt stick around if every day was going to be this stressful.

It was the first day of filming a commercial, and Peach was on set to snap additional photos. For once, he was free from playing the big boss and handed over the reins to the ad director. With only his trusty camera slung around his neck, he strolled through the set, casually capturing interesting shots. He exchanged greetings with a few coworkers and had just started shooting when one of the crew members came running up to him, panting heavily. Without a word, the crew member handed him a sleek black box.

Peach raised an eyebrow in confusion but took the box anyway. It was a premium, jet-black chocolate box labelled as high-end dark chocolate from America, with 90% cocoa content. The packaging screamed luxury, and a small note was attached. The handwriting was quick, slightly messy, but still elegant, and it carried only two words: "I'll leave it on you."

Peach froze, utterly baffled. Who was this chocolate for? And what did he want him to do? Before he could mull it over further, he flipped the note around to look at the other side. There, a sleek black business card edged with shining silver lines greeted him. In bold, unmistakable letters, it bore the name Arseny Enterprises.

He turned the note back over, staring at the cryptic message again. What exactly was Arseny—the mafia boss himself—wanted to leave on him? Or maybe it means, "Give this to Aran for me?" Peach nodded to himself, convinced that it must be it. Yesterday, it was flowers to apologise; today, it's chocolates to celebrate the first day of the commercial shoot. The plan had gone a little off track, though. He'd reminded them over and over to pick something sweet—Aran loves desserts. Still, it was premium chocolate. Maybe it was the store's most delicious, top-tier recipe or something.

With that in mind, Peach felt torn. Sure, he could feel proud that his suggestion was actually being taken seriously for once. But now that the plan had gone sideways, there wasn't much he could do except improvise to make this look like a win. The more impressive he made it seem, the more points Arseny would rack up in Aran's book-and the safer Peach's neck would be.

Peach headed straight to the staff lounge, walking along until he spotted Aran's name on the door. He knocked once and waited for the soft sound of permission before pushing the door open. Inside, Aran, the stunningly handsome model, was seated at the vanity. His makeup was already flawless, leaving only his hair to be styled.

"Peach! You're here too?" Aran greeted him with a bright, cheerful smile. He turned to thank the hairstylist before practically bounding over to Peach.

"I had to come take some behind-the-scenes shots. Plus, it's your first commercial—I had to show up and cheer you on," Peach replied with a smile, which only made Aran beam wider.

The photographer handed over a small bouquet — just three or four flowers, arranged simply but sweetly — as a token of support for Aran's big day. But when Peach glanced at the table behind Aran, a wave of embarrassment crept over him. The table was overflowing with gifts, lavish ones, too. His modest little bouquet seemed downright plain by comparison. And then there it was, a massive bouquet of red roses, easily close to a hundred stems by his estimate.

No prizes for guessing who it was from. It's definitely from Tawan. Was this his way of getting back at Theerakit over that apology bouquet last time? He couldn't help but feel both amused and annoyed. Tawan— still a young actor, the only son of a billionaire was spoiled and stubborn, always eager to win. It wasn't surprising he'd go all out like this.

Despite sounding like a handful, Tawan wasn't all bad. Deep down, he was polite, respectful, and well-mannered. His charming way of speaking often earned him affection from others. Even his demanding streak was seen by many as endearing.

It seemed like he was the only one who, every time they met, was greeted with a look from Tawan that screamed, "I want to see him drop dead." Not once had there been even a hint of friendliness.

Peach sighed, exasperated. He had no idea what more he could do to convince the actor that he wasn't interested in the model. This jealous, irrational rage Tawan displayed every time Aran interacted with another man—what was so fascinating about it? And yet, the makeup artists squealed over it like it was the juiciest drama they'd ever seen.

Shaking off his wandering thoughts, Peach extended the bouquet. He wasn't worried about whether his small gift looked underwhelming compared to the others. He was only here to show some professional courtesy as a senior colleague, nothing more.

"This is from me. Wishing you a smooth shoot," he said with a smile, handing over the bouquet before following up with the luxurious box of chocolates. "And this is from someone who wanted to congratulate you on your first commercial."

Aran took the bouquet, cradling it in his arms, then reached for the sleek box. His perfectly shaped brows furrowed as he turned it over, looking for a card that might reveal the sender.

"Who's this from?" the model asked, eyebrows raised in confusion.

"From the sender of yesterday's white bouquet." Aran froze. The model's delicate features shifted, a mix of confusion and wariness flashing across his face. Peach simply smiled back, his expression soft, attempting to reassure him.

"He's probably just trying to congratulate you on your first commercial shoot. Just take it," Peach urged, trying to wrap things up quickly. He was terrified Aran might refuse and hand the box of chocolates back to him. He didn't even want to imagine what would happen if he failed this mission. Would that mafia boss from hell show his true colours? No way. There was absolutely no chance he'd let his neck—or his head end up on the wrong end of a bullet.

Aran hesitated for a moment before finally giving in and opening the box. A faint, bittersweet aroma wafted out the second the lid came off, and his eyes lit up with curiosity. Picking out a piece, he popped it into his mouth only to scrunch up his face in an instant, his lips pursing in obvious displeasure.

"It's so bitter, Peach!" he complained, fumbling for a water bottle to wash it down. Peach just shook his head with a knowing look. Of course, it was bitter—it was 90% cocoa. What did Aran expect?

Now that the box had been officially opened, Peach didn't hold back. He took a piece for himself and let it melt on his tongue. The intense chocolate flavour spread through his mouth, balanced by a faint sweetness on the finish. The light cocoa aroma lingering in the air was oddly relaxing. Nodding to himself, he couldn't help but admit. This is some top-tier chocolate.

"You don't think it's bitter, Peach?" Aran grumbled, eyeing him warily while clutching his water bottle like a lifeline.

"Nah, just a little. It's really good, though this is high-quality stuff."

Aran propped his chin on his hand, watching as Peach absentmindedly reached for another piece. He looked so caught up in the rich taste that Aran couldn't resist teasing him.

"You know, I think that guy probably meant to give this chocolate to you, not me."

Peach froze mid-chew, choking on the piece in his mouth. He coughed violently, the sound echoing in the small room as Aran scrambled to grab a water bottle for him. Peach downed half of it in one go before finally regaining his composure, though his arms were still covered in goosebumps. There was no way—no way in hell-that Russian mafia guy had bought him the chocolates. Just the thought of it made his skin crawl.

"It's not like that-it's yours," Peach explained hastily, stopping himself from reaching for another piece of chocolate. Suddenly, the rich flavour no longer seemed so appealing.

"How could it be mine?" Aran shot back, folding his arms. "I only eat sweet stuff. Desserts, cakes, anything sugary. The only person I know who likes bitter dark chocolate is you, Peach."

Peach frowned instantly. The question had crossed his mind as soon as he'd received the chocolates. Someone like Arseny, a full-blown mafia boss, probably didn't have the time or the interest to hand-pick gifts. That was definitely something his secretary would've handled. But there was no way he could say that out loud! Otherwise, the Mafia's points with Aran would be Plumit.

"He probably didn't know," Peach said quickly, trying to smooth things over. "This is probably just the best chocolate at the shop, so he ordered it. I mean, you've only met him once, right? How could he know what you like or don't like? Give him a chance to figure it out. Next time, I'm sure he'll bring you something sweeter."

And please, Peach thought to himself, let that mafia guy actually listen and get it right next time!

He chatted with Aran a little longer before getting up to snap some behind-the-scenes photos. It wasn't long before Aran took his place in front of the camera, getting ready to shoot the commercial.

Peach wandered around, looking for the perfect angle to capture the action. For a brief moment, his mind drifted back to the young mafia. That box of chocolates was probably meant for Aran, the mafia boss's favourite model, but here Peach was, having eaten half of it already. Would he get angry if he found out?

The thought made Peach furrow his brow uneasily. After mulling it over, he decided to do something about it. Pulling out his phone, he snapped a photo of Aran, making sure to capture his soft, charming smile. Once he was happy with the edit, he sent the picture off to the man who'd sent the chocolates.

After saving the number in his phone, the messaging app had automatically added the mafia boss to his contacts, but Peach had never dared to reach out before. Today, though, he figured it was a good idea if only for his own safety, as a loyal underling who was supposed to keep the boss informed.

PE@CH: Mission accomplished with the chocolates. Here's a little something extra for you.

Send Photo

Peach saw the "read" notification pop up on his phone and calmly slipped it back into his pocket. He figured that was the end of it. But just as he was locking the screen, the phone buzzed insistently in his hand. It was a reply.

T: Where are you?

Peach blinked, confused. Why does he want to know that? Still, he quickly typed out a polite response.

PE@CH: Studio A.

T: On my way.

Wait. What?! He froze. On your way? Where? Here? Why? Did he get mad? Did he somehow find out that Peach had eaten half the chocolates?

Peach felt like he was about to scream internally as he clutched his phone in one hand and an imaginary stress ball in the other. If only he could come up with some urgent excuse to vanish from this place. Please let him go!