Plan B to U

Chapter 1 - It's Me, Dad

When I picked up my first order of the day, the sky was still bright. Next thing I knew, it was already way past ten p.m.

 

I parked my motorbike in front of our usual hangout. After peeling off my jacket, I leaned into the mirror and fixed my hair just right.

 

Look, I know I'm handsome, but I can be even more handsome.

 

I took my time styling, setting, tugging my shirt smooth, then strode into the bar in all my glory. If only there were background music to match.

 

"Why are you slow-walking in here like that? You took so long the fried chicken tendons on the table have gone rancid."

 

Look at my friends, will you. Here I am making a cool entrance, and instead of hyping me up about how good I look, they're complaining about fried chicken tendons.

 

"It's a special day. Let me be a special guy, will you?"

 

"I already ordered the drinks. Just waiting on you. Hurry up, sit down." With Nikm's words, I spun toward the Yaa dong counter, where a guy with long, wavy hair was holding down his usual spot.

 

"Hi, Bro!" I raised my hands in a wai' to greet the bar owner.

 

Sopon Tam-Sang is our regular bar—we're all from the Fine Arts faculty. The owner's technically our senior from the same department. His name's Bu. After he graduated, he spent several years getting experience on commercial film shoots before stumbling onto life's truth: he actually wanted to run his own business.

 

Sopon is his dad's name. As for the 'Tam-Sang' (made-to-order) part—it's not food. It's Yaa dong. Whatever anyone asks for, P'Bu can whip it up. Good times~

 

"What's up? Haven't seen you in almost a month. You want it light and easy, or heavy-hitting straight to the soul?"

 

"Look at my face, P'Bu. With a vibe like this, gotta go heavy and intense, obviously."

 

"Your spirit's ready. Then you've got to try the new Leopard's Strength recipe. Take one sip, and you'll be roaring HUUURGHHH Fuuuu' on the spot."

 

"That's how leopards at your place roar?" 

 

Damn, now I don't even want to knock it back. I'm seriously worried I'll hit the animal-possession stage. When I'm drunk, I'm pretty much an empty body—a soul out wandering. I only ever find out what I did when my friends show me the video evidence.

 

"What do you want to roar like? I can hook you up with anything. Just one rule: no crying."

 

"Oh come on, who'd cry? Not me~" We're the strong, tough type, after all.

 

After scanning the dizzying array of Yaa dong jars in front of me, I ended up going with what he'd just recommended.

 

"Want an extra shot?"

 

"Make it two shots."

 

"Got it."

 

Order placed, I walked back to join the other two at our corner table. The bar was pretty empty by then, but we loved that—it felt private, like rich kids who'd booked out the whole place for a private party. The only difference: the bar's decor wasn't luxe; it was straight-up street style.

 

Sopon Tam-Sang's walls were covered in graffiti, some of it nice, some of it... questionable. 

 

P'Bu gave customers free rein to scribble out their feelings. Instead of scribbling on bathroom walls while doing your business, this time you'd scribble on the Yaa dong bar's walls while throwing back drinks.

 

"Before I get blackout drunk, lemme give you your birthday present first."

 

Nikm shoved something into my hand. Being the simple, no-frills human he is, he'd just had some quote printed on a white T-shirt and didn't even bother wrapping it with gift-wrapping paper. When I unfolded it, the design looked oddly familiar. Like I'd seen it somewhere before.

 

‘I poured my heart out — and you just poured me out' Heartbreak ballad lyrics, just like that. Except... When exactly did I get my heart broken?

 

"That's a line stuck on the bathroom wall at P'Bu's bar. I liked it, so I had it printed."

 

"Thanks a lot, but please don't ever do this again."

 

What a depressing piece of work.

 

"And this one's from me. Happy birthday, dude." 

 

Em wasn't about to be outdone. He went slightly bıgger by actually using a paper gift bag. When I opened it, my eyes landed on a pair of pink-and-white striped boxers crumpled at the bottom. Perfectly coordinated, as if they'd planned it together—a complete shirt-and-pants set.

 

"For sleeping in."

 

"Wow. So touched." I deadpanned with a completely blank face.

 

Deep down, though, I was genuinely touched. Without these jerks, I wouldn't have gotten a single present this year.

 

"No tears tonight—no sappy stuff, no sad vibes. Let's have some fun, bros."

 

"Yeahhh!!"

 

"P'Bu, can we get some EDM?”

 

"My bar plays Songs for Lifeeee."

 

Party time, officially. We sank into the familiar atmosphere, got into the music, savoured the alcohol, and huddled up to talk about random nonsense that wandered from the past to the present with no order. It was scattered and chaotic, whatever popped into our heads at the moment.

 

"Take it easy, don't rush. Tonight's still a long way to go-especially you, Nile. The hell are you knocking it back like that?" The owner shouted over. I knew. He was worried.

 

"Cut him some slack, P'. He's been through a lot recently."

 

"Broke up with someone?"

 

"Pfft. Dad died."

 

"Oi, you little shit Em, I'm asking nicely, why are you cussing at me?"

 

P'Bu was so heated he almost chucked the Yaa dong jar lid at Em's face. Lucky for him, the troublemaker managed to break in time.

 

"No, no, I wasn't cussing at you, bro. Nile's dad just passed away."

 

"Oh man~ I'm so sorry, dude." Damn, his mood flipped on a dime—from that fierce face to instant sombre.

 

He let the silence hang for a beat before turning to us. "Then tonight's on me, Nile. Let it all out."

 

See? Earlier we said no crying, so why are we suddenly getting all emotional?

 

"Thank you, bro."

 

We kept drinking, ordering all kinds of flavours to keep the buzz building. Half an hour in, my emotions started leaking. Hands trembling, lips trembling, everything pouring out faster than I could contain it. Was it the alcohol making my eyes well up, making me want just full-on to bawl and get it over with?

 

"I... I want to talk to my dad."

 

I confessed honestly. There was so much I wanted to say, so much I wanted to tell him. My best friend just listened quietly, eyes rolling around as he thought, before a lightbulb went off.

 

"Take off your amulet necklace first, dude. Otherwise, your dad won't be able to talk to you."

 

Then both of them swarmed in to help yank the Luang Pu Tubtim Krob' amulet from Wat Pho Chai Sok off my neck. 

 

I'd never worn stuff like this normally—not until my dad died. I'm scared of ghosts. But the overwhelming longing for him made me try to dig up my courage one more time.

 

"This is gonna work, right? I'll get to talk to him, right?"

 

"Worth a shot."

 

It didn't take long for Nikm's whole demeanour to change. The light in his eyes dimmed.

 

[Specific Thai Buddhist amulet. Luang Pu = Venerable Grandfather (monk title). Simplify to a sacred Buddhist amulet. Anyway, Tubtim Krob is a Thai dessert.]

 

"Nile... It's me, Dad."

 

Oh, come on, the acting was so obvious; who the hell would buy that? Total nonsense.

 

"Don't even try impersonating my dad, you nosy little shit."

 

"Sorry, sorry."

 

Dad's out, just like that.

 

We kept drinking like our lives depended on it, but I guess I was hitting it a bit too fast; my brain started fogging up. Somewhere along the way, Nikm's face transformed into my dad's, from blurry to crystal clear. And that's when the tears I'd been holding back all this time slowly welled up for round two.

 

I couldn't take it anymore and lunged forward to wrap him in a tight hug.

 

"Dad, huuuhhh_"

 

"My dear son~" He patted my back to soothe me.

 

My tears flooded out as a dam had broken. We hugged tight. Even so, the warmth I got from it wasn't enough to fully heal my battered heart.

 

"I just don't get it. When you left, there wasn't even a single goodbye. It was just... all of a sudden."

 

Dad was my hero. He was the funniest man I knew. Optimistic. He taught me what it meant to live a life powered by hope. We weren't rich like other people, but we never had real money troubles. We managed to live happily, day by day. Then everything changed when Dad suddenly collapsed from a brain haemorrhage.

 

"I'm so damn lonely. Being with you was exhausting, but it was way better than this."

 

"You still have your friends."

 

"Yeah, I have them," I mumbled, eyes meeting Nikm's, then sliding over to Em, who was scrunching his face up emotionally and wiping his tears away with his sleeve.

 

"I hope you've met up with Mom. Tell her I asked if she's doing alright." I laughed bitterly as I said it, then started crying again moments later. I couldn't even control my own emotions.

 

The three of us clung to each other and bawled in agony, sobbing and wailing until our throats went raw, a sight that anyone witnessing would no doubt find pitiful.

 

It took forever before we finally let go of each other. But this time, Nikm's expression had returned to normal.

 

"Hey, Nile."

 

"Oh, my dad's left already?"

 

"Yeah."

 

I wasn't stupid. I just willingly let myself look stupid. What had just happened was just a little performance to comfort me. But whatever-getting it off my chest still made me feel a lot lighter.

 

Nikm shifted into a more serious mood, his eyebrows knitting together so tight they were practically tied in a knot. He clapped a hand on my shoulder.

 

"I think you've been stuck in this dad-stuff for a while now. If you keep living in the same place, it's not gonna get better. Want to try moving somewhere new? Maybe things will start looking up"

 

"I agree," Em nodded firmly.

 

"It's not that I haven't thought about it." I thought about it ten times, a hundred times every single night.

 

"You guys know what? There was once a house I really, really loved."

 

"We know. You've told us like a million times.  It's burned into our cerebrums by now."

 

"Right, well, my family used to dream about moving out of the apartment and living in a house together. After the first ten years, Mom died. Ten years after that, Dad died. And the saddest part is... we're still in the same place."

 

"Come here for a hug, dude. No matter what happens, you still have us."

 

We all dove into another group hug.

 

I felt like my life hadn't moved forward at all. It just kept circling the same old patterns, surviving on castles in the sky to get through each day.

 

After wallowing in that sad moment for a little while, the bar's lights suddenly went out with a click. Before we even had time to wonder what was happening, the soft glow of a small candle appeared.

 

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, my dear friend..."

 

Em took the cake from P'Bu and held it out in front of me. Honestly, I would have been touched by what you guys did if it weren't for the fact that the number candles stuck in the cake were completely wrong.

 

"Thanks so much, love you guys. But... I'm turning twenty-two this year."

 

These jerks stuck a '23' candle on it.

 

"I know, but P'Bu's place only had one 2' candle, so we had to substitute another number to make do."

 

"I'm speechless."

 

"Just hurry up and make your wish, then blow it out." 

 

I slowly closed my eyes as asked, hands pressed together in prayer to wish for something nearly impossible. Even so, hope was still there, however faint. It would be nice to have a house of my own.

 

Candles blown out. Cheers erupted before we plunged into round two of emotional unleashing.

 

Sadness, longing, pain—throw it all out. It was like every supernatural being in the world heard us calling and rushed to possess our bodies, just like in a fantasy movie. 

 

P'Bu's liquor really is brutal. Nikm started roaring like a tiger one second, then a horse the next— he claimed the 'Horse Stomping the Jar' had kicked in. Em, meanwhile, transformed into a graffiti artist, grabbed a permanent marker, and started painting an O, an L, and another O on the wall.

 

I wobbled after them and scooped up cake to feed into their mouths. Whichever pieces fell on the floor, I just spooned right back up. Just as I was about to toss one away, Em pushed his face forward, mouth open and waiting, so I fed it to him with a heart full of love. 

 

The trashfest went on for nearly an hour—sweets and alcohol-what a stomach-churning combo. And now my body seemed to be hitting its limit. So the moment I turned to look at my friends, we all started seeing disaster looming on the horizon.

 

"What?" Nikm rolled his eyes back, asking in panic.

 

"Hck... urk..."

 

I slapped a hand over my mouth, trying my hardest to hold it in.

 

"Hold it in," Em said, jabbing a finger at my face with deadly seriousness.

 

"Hck."

 

"Very good."

 

But that didn't last long...

 

"BLEEEEEUGH"

 

"OH YOU LITTLE-"

 

Too late, sorry. Whose bright idea was it to let P'Bu go all generous and pour free drinks? I'd basically polished off almost every jar before things ended with me arching my neck and puking everywhere.

 

My body didn't feel like my own anymore. My head was ringing. My eyes drooped. Both legs wobbled left, then right. The last thing I heard through my ears was my best friends' voices mixed with the bar owner's, slicing through the air from far away.

 

"Down! He's down! Total catastrophe!!"

 

The room light flipped on. My consciousness was starting to creep back, even though my legs had zero strength left to hold me up.

 

My best friends had to drag me by the arms and dump me onto the sofa like a sack. But the rancid smell wouldn't stop bugging me, so I sniffed around to find the source. Oh... it was my own puke. And it had soaked through my T-shirt to the point of no return. Through blurry vision, I saw Nikm and Em pulling off their own shirts while gagging non-stop. Then both of them turned and got into position to start stripping me too.

 

"Don't touch me"

 

I kicked my legs and flailed my arms around in irritation.

 

"Change your shirt first, dude, or you'll be uncomfortable. Hold still."

 

I swear, I'm not going to be a burden to my friends ever again—so I let myself lie still while they easily found a new outfit and changed me.

 

"You guys can stay with me a while, right? I'm...scared of ghosts."

 

"After all that heart-to-heart just now, your dad's probably already been reborn. He won't come haunt you."

 

That was just an excuse. The truth was, I was just lonely.

 

"I don't know, just stay a while. Don't go home yet."

 

"Alright, alright."

 

Hearing that, I finally felt at ease and could really sleep. Please... don't leave me alone.

 

The alarm clock blared loud enough to pierce my eardrums. Normally, this sound goes off at eight a.m. After cracking my eyes open and adjusting to the light, I realised I was curled up on the sofa, with the pink rose-patterned blanket I won at the Red Cross fair draped over me.

 

My upper half wore the screen-printed T-shirt Nikm gave me; my lower half wore the boxers from Em. I hadn't even tossed them in the laundry yet, and I was already getting use out of them.

 

Once I'd gathered enough wits, I slowly dragged my carcass to the bedroom-the door was still left ajar.

 

From across the room, I could see my two best friends fast asleep on the bed. So typical of them. Love me so much they made me sleep on the couch.

 

I didn't bother waking them up—let them rest as long as they wanted. I turned to wash my face and brush my teeth. By the time I'd sobered up a bit, those two troublemakers happened to wake up too.

 

We dug out some boxed meals from the fridge, microwaved them, and ate at the coffee table to fight off hunger. Each of us looked like we'd been thrown into a pack of stray dogs, hair sticking up in every direction, clothes wrinkled to hell, lips cracked and dry.

 

"So, you gonna move or what?" Em asked, voice dragging.

 

I glanced over to the corner where the urn holding Dad's ashes had been gone for less than a month—right beside Mom's urn. My chest tightened so much I couldn't speak. All I could do was sit and stare quietly for a while before I made up my mind.

 

"Yeah. The insurance payout should clear soon. I'll probably have enough to cover my final tuition and a deposit for a new place."

 

"If money's tight, you wanna come crash with us?"

 

"Don't want to impose."

 

Honestly? I was scared. Those two had been rooming together since sophomore year. How disgusting their place is, you can't even put into words. If I added myself to that household, it'd be an unmitigated disaster.

 

"Up to you. But remember, dude-any problems, you've still got us."

 

Both of them patted my shoulders to comfort me. At this point, life had to keep moving forward no matter what. At least knowing I wasn't fighting alone-that was probably enough.

 

Time felt like it was flying. In the blink of an eye, that hectic week had passed. I was packing up to move out. Lucky I'd hired a moving company, which saved me a lot of effort. Em and Nikm volunteered to help by going live to sell off the stuff 1 wanted to flip cheap—earning a bit of a safety net for the future.

 

So there was a ton of stuff scattered across the floor waiting to be sorted. Anything I no longer needed got piled on the other side of the room.

 

Nikm liked using his Instagram as a hub for offloading second-hand stuff he wanted to pass on, so I got to ride his coattails and put my own things up for sale. Once live time hit, the reluctant salesman put on a dazzling display of professionalism.

 

"Hello gang, the reason you see this super-hot guy live on IG is that we've got something special to present today." The view count crept up; comments flooded the screen. From what I could tell, most of the accounts were our college classmates.

 

"What do we have to offer today, friend Nile?" 

 

He turned to me to keep the conversation rolling.

 

"Ah, here we go: quality wheelchair, manual-drive system, great for arm exercise." 

 

I gestured toward my dad's wheelchair while Em gently tapped the material to demonstrate its quality.

 

"Wow factors: durable, strong material, won't break, won't bend, no rust. How much are we asking?"

 

"This was my dad's; I love it so much." I pretended to think before bumping up the price, since I'd checked the market and it usually went for less. "But I'm parting with it for just eight hundred Baht."

 

"Super cheap again!! Hurry up and tap, hurry up and confirm! Anyone interested, type in a baby-blue heart!"

 

Baby-blue?

 

We sold off everything we could. A high-end mattress that cost tens of thousands of Baht went for just a few thousand. The food blender, I bundled into a promo deal with a neck pillow and a multi-purpose cleaning set.

 

Honestly didn't think it would sell, but eventually buyers came through. Most of them were friends who probably felt sorry for me, I'd guess.

 

"Anything else you want to sell?" Nikm asked.

 

"Yeah, yeah, lemme look real quick."

 

I walked over to the storage cabinet corner and slowly crouched down to dig out the custom-built keyboard I'd treasured. But it looked like it was going to have to belong to someone else to keep me alive.

 

No matter how long I rummaged, I still couldn't find what I was looking for. So I started chucking the stacks of documents on the shelf onto the floor to clear the way. Still no keyboard-but my eyes happened to land on a dark blue folder instead.

 

Curious about what it actually was, I grabbed it and flipped it open. Inside were way too many details to process all at once. The only clear thing was Dad's name and mine listed as the beneficiary.

 

"Holy shit!! Is this for real?"

 

It was like Dad's ghost was haunting me in broad daylight.

 

I scanned through it the first time and didn't want to believe it, so I read it through three more times to make sure.

 

"What is it?"

 

"Dad's life insurance policy"

 

"You already claimed that one, didn't you?"

 

"No, this is a separate one." I let my eyes slide down to double-check the numbers listed. 

 

Bingo!!

Something Dad had never told me.

 

A miracle, just like that. And the policy amount-several million Baht-was enough to make my body go weak, so weak I flopped backwards onto the floor in a heap.

 

Believe it or not, just like that, I had enough money to buy a house of my very own. For the first time, I wasn't visiting this housing development as a delivery rider.

 

The moment my motorbike roared up to the spot, my heart was pounding wildly. The joy was so overwhelming I had to draw in some deep breaths to steady myself.

 

"Hello. You're the one who reached out about viewing the house?"

 

The electric gate slid open before I could even brace myself. By the time I'd gathered my wits, taken off my helmet, and turned to face the other person, it had taken a few good minutes.

 

For real, you don't see someone with this kind of presence very often, so I couldn't help but covertly check him out from head to toe.

 

The man before me was about 185 centimetres tall, with a handsome face and a small smile playing on his lips, giving off a friendly, magnetic aura.

 

He was wearing a long-sleeve black shirt and dark jeans. Even with a fair amount of distance between us, I could still catch a faint, indescribable scent in the air.

 

"Sir?" He snapped his fingers.

 

"Y-yes?"

 

"You contacted us about viewing the house. Am I right?"

 

"Yes, yes."

 

"Then let me introduce myself again. My name is Krich. I'm the nephew of the owner of this house." I nodded to acknowledge, and he opened his mouth to elaborate.

 

"Actually, I have a house in the same development too, just on the other side."

 

The 'other side'-where houses range from thirty million to a hundred million Baht. Which one, which one~Filthy stinking rich.

 

"Nice to meet you, Khun Krich. My name is Nile." We shook hands, then he politely invited me to walk into the property.

 

I didn't even know where to focus first; everything was just too beautiful—the perfectly designed outdoor garden. The large trees ringing the house. The little plants carefully chosen and planted. The deeper I walked, the more shaded and peaceful it felt.

 

"Do you like it?"

 

With eyes this sparkly, it couldn't be hard to guess.

 

"I love it."

 

"Glad you like it. But after this, I believe you'll love it even more." With that, his thick hand pushed open the door, revealing the beauty inside so much that my jaw dropped. Of course, every reaction of mine fell directly under Krich's gaze. Luckily, he didn't make fun of me; he just led me through each corner, explaining everything I should know.

 

"The space isn't huge, but it's plenty for a small family." He wasn't the type to pry into personal matters, so our conversation stayed strictly on the house. "The flooring is still parquet. If you don't like it, Khun Nile, you can change the colour or material."

 

"I like it as is. Honestly, I like everything. But..." 

 

The problem wasn't whether I liked the house. It was the money in my pocket.

 

"But...?" Krich tilted his head, drawing out the

syllable, waiting for an answer.

 

"I really like this house, but my savings are pretty limited. And I don't have enough credit to get a bank loan." That meant if I decided to buy this house using Dad's life insurance plus the money I'd raised from selling everything, I'd have almost no reserve left for the future.

 

"I understand. No worries." Khun Krich didn't show any annoyance. He spoke softly: "I'll give you time to decide. Money matters, after all."

 

Wow, how sweet. Handsome, rich, generous, and empathetic. The complete package!

 

"Thank you."

 

"Then let's keep exploring the house a bit more."

 

"Sure."

 

Then the tall, lean figure led me to one corner of the house before those long legs came to a stop in front of a wide bay window built into the wall.

 

"The light at this corner is beautiful-like the reference photos people pin on Pinterest. It'd be nice to lie here reading a book, sipping coffee, watching the view outside." 

 

He murmured with a flat, calm expression.

Oh no. That was a direct hit!

 

"It really is beautiful."

 

Then he strode confidently over and stopped at the kitchen, which was done up in Mid-Century style.

 

"The tile pattern used on the kitchen walls is hard to find these days. Back then, my aunt and uncle had a special colour shipped in from overseas."

 

Special colour from overseas, here we go!!

 

I swallowed hard. Before I could even process, this guy was already moving on. I mean... bro, you walk a lot.

 

He was handsome, composed, dignified, mysterious, but sometimes he acted brazenly.

 

"This tree has excellent form. These days, it'd probably be worth several hundred thousand Baht." He led me out onto the second-floor balcony for some air, where the front garden was clearly visible. "And it's an auspicious tree."

 

"A-auspicious tree..."

 

"It brings good things into your life. But it's fine, Khun Nile. You still have time to decide."

 

"Th... thank..."

 

"I forgot to mention—someone's coming to see the house tomorrow. If they're interested, I'll let you know first." Before I'd even finished my sentence, this Khun Krich landed a hook straight to the side of my head.

 

"There are still other people asking to view it?"

 

"Off and on, yes." He didn't just say it; he pulled out his phone to show me. "My email's overflowing."

 

Wait—you literally just said I had time to decide??

 

Liar through and through.

 

I paused to think, weighing pros and cons blow by blow. The clearest pro: I'd still have my money. Even if I felt lazy and didn't want to work tomorrow, I'd have a financial cushion to keep myself fed. The con... letting the thing I'd wanted forever slip through my fingers.

 

The house was my family's dream. Even with both Mom and Dad gone, that dream hadn't faded along with them.

 

After weighing all the reasons, I had my answer. Screw it. Come what may!

 

"Khun Krich"

 

Just as his tall figure was turning to leave the balcony and head back inside, I took the liberty of gently tugging at the hem of his shirt, expressing myself honestly and resolutely.

 

"Yes?"

 

"What documents do I need to prepare if I want to buy this house?"

 

"Just prepare yourself, body and soul, to become my neighbour. That's enough."

 

So freakin' cringey-cool! And not only that, he flashed a smile to seal it. Honest confession: I died on the spot.

 

Fine, I admit it—I wanted the house. But this seller was way too skilled at luring me into the trap. Maybe it was his looks, his distinctive presence, his voice, his way with words, or whatever else.

 

"From here on out, I'll be in your care."

 

In the end, I was happy that we'd be neighbours in the same development.