Me and Thee: English translation.

Wake up call #7

 

Click.

Peach continued snapping photos, carrying out his duties flawlessly, though his mind kept drifting back to the message from earlier. His heart was pounding so hard it was alarming. No, this wasn't some romantic fluttering. His racing heartbeat was fueled by sheer panic, nothing else.

 

He let out a quiet sigh, still unable to figure out why that Russian mafia boss would bother coming to such a small studio. Sure, this commercial shoot was under his company's umbrella, but did the CEO himself really need to oversee it in person?

 

Peach snapped another photo, then glanced down to check his work. The latest shot was of Arseny, the young model, turning to smile at the camera. His grin stretched wide, his eyes squinting in that endearing way that made anyone looking at the picture smile, too. He really was naturally charming as a model.

 

Peach found himself spacing out for a moment before freezing. A memory suddenly resurfaced-what had he even said to Thee earlier? Oh, right. He'd sent him a photo. A picture of Aran ready on set, looking fresh and cheerful, and captioned it as a "souvenir" for the mafia boss who'd been so obviously obsessed with the young model.

 

That's it! He's coming here for Arseny. With this revelation, Peach felt his tense shoulders relax a little. The urgency in Thee's messages, the quick arrival—it was all because he wanted to see Aran. Over the past few weeks, the two of them hadn't had a chance to meet at all. Things had been so stagnant between them that the young mafia didn't even have Aran's phone number yet! But then again, maybe Thee already had Aran's number. With his influence, getting a model's contact info wouldn't be much of a challenge. Still, he probably wouldn't dare to call and set up a meeting himself. That was probably for the best. If Aran found out Thee got his number through underhanded means, it might leave a bad impression.

 

Feeling a bit more at ease with the thought, Peach went back to taking pictures. Time flew by, and the next thing he noticed was a commotion in one corner of the studio. However, he was too absorbed in his work to pay much attention. It wasn't until the director called for a break, allowing Aran to change outfits for the next shoot, that Peach started to sense something was off.

 

As he checked the shots on his camera, he became aware of someone staring at him. Lifting his head, he found himself locking eyes with a sharp, intense gaze that made him jump slightly. There, sitting behind the director with his arms crossed, was the towering figure of the Russian-Thai mafia boss. But Thee's piercing eyes weren't fixed on the director's screen as they should've been; instead, they were locked onto Peach with a predator-like gleam, as if he'd spotted his prey. The intensity of that stare sent a shiver down Peach's spine, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Why is he staring? Did I do something wrong?

 

Peach frowned, breaking eye contact and pretending to focus on his camera, though his mind was racing. After a while, a glance at the camera's time display made something click. It's already late. Maybe he's just waiting for Aran. Or perhaps he's annoyed because I didn't clear the schedule properly for him.

 

Peach stole a glance at the director, who was visibly uneasy with Thee sitting right behind him. The poor man eventually made an excuse to leave and check on the set, likely to escape the overwhelming pressure of the mafia boss's presence. Seizing the moment, Peach approached, giving the middle-aged director a slight bow before leaning in to whisper something softly.

 

"I think we should wrap things up for today," Peach suggested softly, stealing a glance at the mafia boss whose gaze seemed even sharper than before. The director wiped his brow, visibly uneasy. After sneaking another look at their imposing guest, he quickly nodded in agreement.

 

Peach stepped back as the director called it a day, shouting for everyone to pack up. Flashing a quick smile at his coworkers, Peach made his way straight to the model's dressing room with purposeful strides. He knocked on the door, and when a voice inside said to come in, he pushed it open.

 

Inside, Aran was wiping off his makeup, looking relaxed— probably someone had already informed him the shoot was done for the day. When Aran saw who it was, he immediately perked up and asked. 

 

"Why'd they call it off, Peach?"

 

"We got more done than planned, so the director said we could take a break,"

Peach replied, only half-truthfully. He stepped closer, hesitating for a moment as he tried to figure out how to word what he had to say. Finally, he managed.

 

"Aran, Mr Arseny came by today."

The younger man froze, turning to face him fully, his big eyes widening with a mix of shock and wariness. He looked like a startled little animal, fragile and vulnerable. Peach couldn't help but give a faint smile as he reached out to gently pat the younger man's head a couple of times, trying to comfort him. Only for a moment, though—he quickly pulled his hand back, knowing full well that if Tawan walked in and saw this, he'd probably end up with a black eye.

 

"Why's he here? Is he upset with me?" Aran frowned deeply, his lips pressing into a tight line as unease flickered across his face. Peach couldn't hold back a chuckle, tempted to ask how on earth Aran came to that conclusion. That mafia boss probably wants to eat you up if hè could!

 

Peach kept the thought to himself. No way was he about to blurt that out and send the guy in front of him into a full-on panic. If that happened, Peach figured he'd probably be the one getting shot instead.

 

"Maybe he just wants to patch things up with you," Peach said casually, his tone smooth and easygoing. "You're gonna be working together for a while, right?" 

 

Of course, Peach knew better than to believe a company president would go out of his way to make nice with a model just because he was this season's brand ambassador. But hey, it was the most reasonable excuse he could come up with to calm Aran down. The model stayed quiet, his face set in deep concentration. Peach decided to give him a little nudge.

 

"Come on, why not step out and say hi? It's only polite," Peach suggested. Then, sensing Aran's hesitation, he added, "Oh, and... I wouldn't be surprised if someone mentioned Tawan tossing out Arseny's bouquet. Better to clear the air before it causes any drama, don't you think?"

 

Aran frowned even harder at that but eventually gave a slow, reluctant nod. Seeing him finally give in, Peach broke into a wide grin. He was just about to suggest Aran freshen up his look a bit when his phone buzzed in his pocket. Peach pulled it out, letting Aran keep packing his things. The notification on the screen was hard to miss: 

 

T: It's already dark out. Don't you eat dinner?

 

Peach blinked, staring at the message as it had come out of nowhere. What's that supposed to mean? Was Thee hinting he should invite Aran out for dinner or something? The photographer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling an imaginary trickle of sweat run down his forehead. Just today alone, how many times had he played mediator, lied, and bent over backwards for these two? Why couldn't they just fall in love or start dating without dragging the rest of the world into it?

 

Peach groaned inwardly, his frustration boiling over. He wanted to grab Cupid by the collar and shake some sense into him. Why aren't you doing your job? Why dump all this on me? But as soon as he imagined Cupid's face, it ended up looking suspiciously like Arseny's. Resigned, Peach sighed again and accepted his role in this ridiculous drama, no matter how much of a pain it was.

 

In no time, Aran adjusted the strap of his bag and strode toward Peach, nodding like a soldier gearing up for battle. Peach quickly shifted gears, softening his expression into a gentle smile as if to reassure him. He turned to the manager and told him he could head out now, since Peach would be the one accompanying the model. After all, he had Thee waiting. He could always pass the baton to him later.

 

They walked side by side, Peach keeping the conversation light, throwing in playful jabs to coax a laugh or two from Aran. The model loosened up, the tension in his shoulders easing. It wasn't long before they reached the studio's exit, where Mr Thee was already waiting, arms crossed, exuding his usual commanding presence.  Peach dipped his head and stepped forward with a forced smile.

 

"Good evening, Mr Thee. What an honour to have you personally checking in on us."

 

Thee's frown deepened instantly, his face darkening with clear disapproval. Not even trying to hide his annoyance, he glared at Peach. But Peach wasn't fazed. Mission accomplished-he'd managed to drag Aran all the way here. And with Tawan out of the picture today, there wasn't going to be a better opportunity than this.

 

Peach beamed and gestured toward the model. "Allow me to introduce Aran formally, our featured model for the fall collection." Turning to Aran, he nudged him lightly. "Go on, Ran, say hello. This is Theerakit Arseny, president of Arseny Corporation."

 

Aran glanced up at Thee briefly, then bowed politely with his hands pressed together in a perfect wai. Peach let out a subtle sigh of relief, grateful that Aran still had the presence of mind to nail his manners at the right moment.

 

The mafia's piercing grey eyes softened-just a fraction- but Peach caught it. He silently patted himself on the back for his success and wasted no time moving on to the main point.

 

"Wow, it's already late, isn't it? I totally forgot I have an urgent meeting tonight," Peach said, smacking his forehead with theatrical regret. "I can't believe I spaced out on dinner plans with you, Mr Thee. I'm so sorry!"

 

The mafia turned to him sharply, his steel-grey gaze now brimming with an almost predatory intensity. His displeasure was palpable, so much so that one of his subordinates standing nearby instinctively took a step back. But Peach, blissfully oblivious, remained unfazed. Instead, he turned toward Aran, clasping the model's hands on his own and putting on his most pitiful voice to beg him.

 

"Mr Thee is really invested in this fall collection project. And since you don't have anything scheduled today, I'm begging you, Ran, could you please step in and talk to him for me? On the way back, I'm sure Thee's team can drop you off."

 

"I don't need a ride, Peach. I can get home on my own," Aran shot back, shaking his head so quickly that his hair flew everywhere. But Peach wasn't about to back down now, not when he'd already committed himself to this task. Tightening his grip on Aran's hands, he looked at the younger man with the most pleading expression he could muster.

 

"I promised our manager, Ran. How can I go back on my word? Besides, you're becoming increasingly popular these days. What if you flag down the wrong driver or run into some obsessive fan? What would you do then?" Peach rattled off the words in one breath, not giving Aran a chance to argue. Without skipping a beat, he turned back toward Thee, grabbed his larger hand, and pulled it toward Aran's smaller one, physically joining their hands together.

 

In his nervous rush, Peach completely forgot that he shouldn't be touching Thee so casually. But there he was, shoving Aran's delicate hand into Thee's broad palm as if sealing some kind of deal.

 

"Alright, I'll leave him in your hands, then!" Peach declared with a quick bow. Before either of them could react, he let go of their hands, spun on his heel, and bolted toward a taxi waiting nearby. Professionalism at its finest, he thought, already imagining treating himself to wagyu steak after pulling off such a stunt!

 

Theerakit stood frozen for a moment because no one had ever forced something or someone onto him, and then literally ran away like that. His sharp eyes followed Peach until the photographer disappeared into the taxi. Thee's brows knit together in a mix of irritation and bemusement. But before he could dwell on the audacity of it all, the sound of his phone ringing snapped him back to the moment.

 

Releasing Aran's hand, he reached for his phone. His gaze lingered on the notification flashing on the screen, his expression shifting into something complicated, as if the emotions within him were churning in ways even he couldn't quite decipher.

 

PE@CH: I've handed you the perfect opportunity. Now it's all on you. Good luck!

 

Thee pressed his lips together, sliding his phone back into his pocket. When he looked up, Aran was already standing there, watching him nervously, his expression a mix of worry and slight fear. Something about it tugged at Thee's heart, softening the storm that had been brewing inside.

 

He couldn't deny it-Aran was stunning. A man with delicate, almost ethereal features, a lean frame that still carried a hint of muscle, and skin so fair and smooth it practically glowed. Thee could still feel the soft warmth of that skin from when he had grabbed Aran's hand earlier. And yet, oddly enough, the lingering sensation that stayed with him more vividly was the rough warmth from someone else's hand.

 

"Um... h-have you eaten yet, Mr Thee?" Aran's hesitant voice broke the silence. His tone wavered, but there was determination in his words. "I'm happy to answer any questions about the fall collection shoot on Peach's behalf. I mean, he knows most of the details, but... I've been sneaking in to check on the progress pretty often. I might be able to fill in for him, at least a little."

 

Theerakit lowered his gaze, his chest still tight with lingering irritation. What frustrated him more was that he couldn't quite pinpoint why he was annoyed. Taking a deep breath, he reined in the turmoil swirling inside and gave a curt, commanding reply.

 

"Get in the car."

 

Peach had gone to all this trouble to set things up for him. The least he could do was make use of the chance he'd been given, even if his mind was more tangled and confused than ever before.