Plan B to U

Chapter 11 Just Me and You

 

The Leaping Rabbit, the StumpRiding Lion, the Stomping Horse, and Leopard Power drinks P'Booswore would make anyone who tried them start purring. For me, it wasn't purring at all—more like groaning in pain.

 

"Ohhhhh..."

 

The combined effect of every herbal liquor I'd downed all night had wrecked me. By the time I came to, my body felt like it had survived a brutal, bloody war.

 

I rolled over onto my other side, my dry, cracked lips letting out a groan like I was being slaughtered. Never again with the Yaa dong. I didn't want anything ever again, because this time it had hit harder than ever before.

 

The morning sun stabbed at my eyes too directly to avoid, acting as a catalyst that forced me to sit up slowly, leaning my back against the headboard. It took a good while to pull myself together before I could focus my eyes clearly on what was in front of me.

 

Then I was hit with something more shocking than any ghost, because this room, this bed, was not my house at all. I could tell from the unfamiliar furniture, far too luxurious to be anything I knew.

 

Even so, what deserved more attention wasn't the room, the bed, or the surroundings; it was my own body.

 

What the hell!! What is going on here?!

 

After looking down and seeing every inch of my own skin laid out before me, my whole heart felt like it had dropped straight down to my ankles. My body was covered in red marks scattered everywhere. Not bruised enough to be alarming, but more than enough to tell me exactly what last night had been about.

 

I tried to think, pulling my memory back to the events of last night piece by piece, before realising something had clearly gone very wrong.

 

And yes, that scene had genuinely happened. If I'm not mistaken, this has to be Krich's bedroom.

 

I had no idea exactly how strong that Yaa dong's effects had been, but it must have been strong enough to send me lunging straight into a passionate kiss with him. 

 

After that, we'd come back here, and with that fire still burning, combined with whatever demonic possession had taken hold, we'd been tangled in kisses from the front door all the way to the staircase, and not stopping there, he'd carried me up to the bedroom, and we'd gone straight into rapid-fire eighteen-plus scenes.

 

Thinking about it that far, embarrassment flooded through me completely, my face burning hot. 

 

Not knowing what else to do, I dove under the blanket to hide from reality, screaming in frustration at myself for getting carried away with my enemy. Wait, was he even my enemy anymore by that point? Argh~

 

This shouldn't have happened. Losing to his good looks wasn't enough; now I'd lost completely to some magnetic pull too.

 

In the end, I couldn't lie there like that for long, so I forced myself up to shower first, even though it felt like I'd already been cleaned up once before.

 

Standing under the shower, the icy-cold water helped clear my head, and the events from last night replayed, scene by scene, growing clearer and clearer.

 

Starting with us stripping each other's clothes off without any care at all, tossing them carelessly to the floor. Crushing kisses, hard enough that my lips practically went raw, and I'd even fought to tilt my head up and kiss him back.

 

Before long, his well-shaped lips travelled wilfully on my body across my face, my ear, down to my neck, my chest, my stomach where it tickled, and then we...

 

Okay, okay, that's enough. Just thinking about it nearly buckled my knees, and my body wasn't exactly up for it either after such a brutal battle. 

 

I shook the wandering thoughts out of my head and slowly dragged my exhausted body out of the bathroom.

 

My own shirt and pants were nowhere to be found, just a fresh set of clothes left by the bed. Judging by the size, no surprise, they had to be Krich's.

 

No time to sulk about it, I quickly changed into them before heading downstairs, groaning every time I stood and every time I took a step.

 

From across the room, I could see the tall figure clearly, sitting at the dining table drinking coffee in comfortable loungewear. I had no idea how to even look at him or what to say, so I just tried to keep a straight face and act as if nothing had happened.

 

"Hungry? I'll make breakfast." That was the first sentence that came out of him, a morning greeting that somehow felt impossibly awkward.

 

"Yes, please."

 

I nodded while repeatedly hypnotising myself: don't think about the steamy scenes, don't complain about the soreness spreading through my whole body. Just act normal.

 

Krich got up the moment he heard me, moving to stand at the kitchen counter, then started gathering ingredients for breakfast with practised ease, while neither of us said a single word about what happened last night.

 

"Extra bacon, please," I requested once he started putting together a simple American breakfast. Hunger doesn't discriminate; I needed to refuel.

 

"Another fried egg?" His sharp face looked up to ask.

 

"Absolutely."

 

"How's your body feeling?"

 

And there it was, the thing I'd been dreading. I hadn't started it, but he was the one bringing it up first.

 

"Greaaat." Truth was, my back was practically broken, fitting that saying about nearly dying and coming back (in a thoroughly battered state). Half my soul felt obliterated.

 

Because I'd never thought, never dreamed, that I'd actually end up in a scene like that. After watching hundreds, thousands, of erotic films, this had to be the least romantic, most marathon-length version possible, given that he was my first. Yet, we weren't even officially anything to each other.

 

A dramatic scene was looming, but 1 had to keep the whole situation comedic.

 

"If you're not up to it, you don't have to come into the studio today. I'm giving you permission." He said it gently, his eyes showing genuine softness.

 

"It's fine. I told you, I'm great. I'm strong."

 

Luckily, Krich didn't press for the actual truth. He just nodded and turned his attention back to the pan on the stove, while I couldn't do much except stand quietly watching him, my head spinning with what to do about the murky thing between us.

 

It wasn't something unforgivable to accidentally end up having a one-night stand with someone, especially when both parties were willing and had taken proper precautions. More importantly, if I kept fixating on asking someone I only had a temporary connection with about labels, that wouldn't really be fair. So...

 

"About last night..." Just forget about it. That's what I wanted to say. But before I could finish the sentence, Krich had just finished cooking.

 

"I'm sorry." Oh, plot twist: why is the old man suddenly apologising? "I'm not going to blame it on the alcohol. I was aware of everything, and I didn't stop myself."

 

His eyes were fixed on me, so sincere it made my heart waver. Was this the moment for confession, for facing the truth?

 

"No one's at fault here. I kissed you first; you just went with it." Honestly, Krich at P'Boo's bar had been absurdly enticing- the music, the lights, the whole atmosphere conspiring like that; who could've resisted?

 

"Right. You provoked me."

 

"And you wanted me so badly you were shaking." If he wanted to talk back, I'd talk back too. Calling me cute and all that, ugh.

 

"Your kissing was a mess, all clumsy and fumbling."

 

"Acting like a pro yourself, when really you could only manage two rounds. Tsk..."

 

"Three. There was one in the bathroom too." 

 

My breath caught, and the answer stumbled out of me before I could stop it.

 

"Ththat one doesn't count." He tilted his head as if asking why, so I clarified for him. "Only the bed counts."

 

"I'll order a bed for the bathroom, then."

 

"Unbelievable." Krich laughed, the one laugh of the day that finally eased the tension. "You think there's going to be a next time?"

 

He shrugged in answer, deliberately vague. I was probably the only one whose face kept flushing redder, embarrassed by every word out of my own mouth. How were we sitting here discussing eighteen-plus content this casually?

 

Lucky for me, breakfast cut the topic short. I ate quickly and planned to head home soon, without ever settling anything about our status. We just tried to brush past it and, in the end, let things stay exactly as they were.

 

"I'll walk you out."

 

Krich walked me out to the front of the house, volunteering to take care of everything. But I told him I'm already a champion; this is nothing.

 

"I'm fine."

 

"Then let me call you a ride."

 

"No need." A split second later, my eyes caught something leaning against the carport wall, and a bright idea struck. "That's your bike, isn't it? Can I borrow it for a bit? I'll ride it from home to the train station."

 

The motorbike still wasn't fixed, and calling a motorcycle taxi every time felt like it'd cost a fortune. Borrowing his bike to make do would save quite a bit of money.

 

"Whatever day you're coming into the studio, just ride with me."

 

"I'd rather not impose. Besides, I'm worried people at work will think I'm using connections."

 

"Then go ahead and take it."

 

"Thanks." With that, I stepped slowly over to grab the bike. "I'm off then. See you."

 

Then I pedalled off down the estate road. But given the brutal workout my body had endured all night, the soreness radiated down to my tailbone, so trying to pedal left me wobbling all over the place. I didn't even want to imagine how pathetic I looked.

 

Too afraid of being even more humiliated, I didn't dare glance back. I didn't want to know what kind of face he was making back there.

 

The Rabbit Hole studio was slightly chaotic as Offline Youth's album release date crept closer, doubling everyone's workload. Morning meetings, then later, creative work that had to be adapted for the label's other artists' projects too. The only chance for a break was lunchtime. Everyone else fled to eat, while I fled to collapse, completely drained, on a sofa in one corner of the studio, a spot fairly hidden from view and reasonably private.

 

Can I take back what I said earlier about being fine? Right now I just want to die...

 

"Nile, you okay?"

 

P'Mee stopped by, genuinely worried. Between the hangover from the alcohol I'd downed and the soreness setting in after the sex, my body was wrecked beyond normal. But not wanting her to worry, I gave her a quick, halfhearted answer.

 

"I'm okay. Resting a bit should help."

 

"Have you taken any medicine?"

 

"Nikm and Em already force-fed it down my throat." I made it into a joke.

 

"Sorry for putting you through all that trouble. You were out wandering around all day yesterday too."

 

"It's fine, P'Mee. Happy to help."

 

Way off the mark. Just heat and sun from hunting down Dral and Sun wouldn't be enough to make me sick.

 

Don't forget  I'm a food delivery rider.

 

"Alright, I won't bother you more. Get some more rest."

 

"Thank you, P'Mee."

 

With that, she turned and walked off. But before I even got a taste of that promised rest, someone else showed up. It was Krich...

 

The tall figure crouched down close beside me, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead like he was checking my temperature. His face stayed flat and unreadable, but I could still feel the concern coming from underneath.

 

"You're a bit warm. If you're not better by the end of the day, I'll take you to a doctor."

 

"Don't be so dramatic. And why are you sitting right here? People will see."

 

"Take this."

 

His big hand pulled a cooling fever patch out of a paper bag and gently pressed it onto my forehead. Before leaving, he didn't forget to leave a hangover remedy drink too. Total boyfriend vibes, honestly.

 

For a moment, I caught myself imagining a sweetly romantic future: what it would be like if we dated seriously, if we lived together. But those images shattered the second reality caught up to me. We hadn't even sorted out our actual problems yet.

 

The matter of my house. The boss-and-subordinate dynamic. And the matter of feelings. We didn't even love each other. Why would we date?

 

"I'm fine, go get back to work." After shooing him off, Krich understood and gave me the chance to rest properly.

 

His tall frame stood and walked off quietly, and right at that moment he passed my two evil friends, which made me wonder what time I'd actually get a proper rest today.

 

"Ooh! Did I just see someone?" Same old routine, Nikm opens, Em closes.

 

"Was that our boss? You feel like something's changed? The vibe's weird."

 

Blocked by me...

 

"The vibe of my pure pain, more like. Especially while hungover."

 

"Don't snap at us; we're just worried. If you're still not better, tell us quickly, and we'll get P'Krich to take you to the hospital."

 

"Why does it have to be Krich?"

 

"P'Mee said that from this morning until now he's been asking about you nonstop. How's Nile doing? Should Nile rest? Let Nile take the day off. I figured it'd be good if he just took care of you from start to finish."

 

"..."

 

"Bottom line, he likes you."

 

"You're delirious."

 

"Believe what you want."

 

My two best friends left the question hanging like some Zen riddle, with no intention of hanging around any longer, leaving me alone with a question that, oddly enough, made my heart swell.

 

One nap later, lunch break had given way to serious working hours. I dragged myself to my desk, opened my laptop to brainstorm more album concepts, currently sitting at a dozen odd ideas, and it was right then that the elusive indie artists finally turned up at the studio too.

 

"We're online now!" Dral showed up in a wildly colourful jacket, while Sun wore cateye sunglasses, full fashion-forward style.

 

"Yay~ I'm so happy I could become a nun in your honour." P'Mee joked before rushing over to greet the Offline Youth members, who'd arrived with their personal manager.

 

Honestly, I had so much respect for them showing up bright and cheerful, zero hangover symptoms, despite having gone through practically every jar of Yaa dong last night. And somehow with more energy to work than usual. The whole staff erupted in applause to celebrate.

 

We really have to thank Nile and P'Krich for showing us that goldmine. My brain's been firing ever since last night. Once we wrap this album, we could probably start writing the next one already." Sun gushed away while shooting me a grateful look. Mission accomplished, basically.

 

"Let's survive the present first, yeah?" P'Mee cut the fantasy short and pulled things back to business. "Get into the recording room, P'Nest is waiting."

 

Once the artsy duo got dragged off, the working area fell quiet again, but it lasted less than ten minutes, since the studio had quite a few visitors today and the whole place stayed lively.

 

Even Nikm had been busy prepping content and setting up press interviews for the label's other bands from morning until afternoon, before...

 

"Who's that gorgeous woman?"

 

"You're asking me, as if I'd know?"

 

The conversation had shifted to a newcomer I'd never seen or heard of before. Why was she such a hot topic despite all the visitors who passed through here? Probably because several senior staff had some of their own little circles about her.

 

Not wanting to get caught up in it, I went back to focusing on my own work until my phone buzzed with a notification. Scanning it, I found it was a message from none other than my boss.

 

"I'd like some coffee. Could you make me one?'

 

This move felt off. It also handed me an unusually open shot at revenge, given how cautious he usually was about this exact thing. But no matter how suspicious he was, I decided to seize the opportunity, quickly brewing coffee and dashing to the recording room at lightspeed.

 

"Coming in!"

 

After opening the door, I found the control room already crowded. At the mixing desk was P'Nest, the producer; next to him was the sound engineer, and the sofa at the back was taken up by Krich and the woman everyone had just been talking about.

 

Dral and Sun stood on the other side of the glass partition, inside the actual recording booth. After surveying the whole room and confirming everything, I immediately shifted focus to my target.

 

"Your coffee." I was about to set the cup down in the middle of the wooden table, but the tall figure stopped me first.

 

"How'd you make it?"

 

"Standard capsule machine."

 

"Standard meaning?" I didn't answer, so he narrowed his eyes warily, like someone terrified of dying, a genuinely hilarious sight to me. 

 

"Taste it first"

 

"Come on, I'm not that scheming."

 

"Taste it."

 

Ugh, with a line like that, I couldn't really refuse either. If there'd been poison in it, I'd be the first to die. Lucky for me, I hadn't been planning to mess with him this time, and I'd even picked the capsule intensity he liked best. 

 

My instincts were on point, so I confidently lifted the cup and took a demonstrative sip for him to see.

 

"Satisfied now?"

 

Krich's mouth curled up into a faint smile before he reached out, took the cup, and drank from the exact spot my lips had just touched. In a novel, this would be the classic indirect kiss scene. For us, though, it was purely an accident.

 

"Forgot to introduce  this is my friend Grace, owner of the production house doing the MV for Offline Youth."

 

The introduction happened in a flash.

 

"Hello." I greeted her, and she smiled in return.

 

The person in front of me was a woman about 160 centimetres tall, fair-skinned, with a round, doll-like face and light brown hair loosely curled, giving off a sweet impression. But her quick way of speaking, her movements, and her outfit all clearly signalled she was the polar opposite of sweet and soft- sharp, energetic, the ultimate working woman type.

 

"Grace, this is Nile, one of our interns."

 

"Oh, the one who bought your aunt's house, right?" How much had he told people about me already? And I'd bet good money none of it was flattering

 

"If that's everything, I'll get going now." Not wanting to linger and intrude, I seized the moment to make my exit. But my feet got stopped again

 

"Wait, sit down. I want you to learn how things work in the recording room, in case anything comes up where you can help." What exactly could an inexperienced intern like me help with? But despite all my doubts, I had no choice but to comply with his order anyway.

 

Krich shifted over to leave enough room for me to sit on the same sofa. But seriously, why did I have to be the one sandwiched between him and Grace? Wasn't that strange? And look at this  I'm so tense, dammit! I genuinely had no idea what his point was in doing this.

 

But one thing was certain: I had no choice but to sit there listening to whatever they talked about while waiting for the artists to finish recording. 

 

Grace and Krich seemed far too close to be people who'd just recently met; if I had to guess, they'd known each other for over a decade, and on top of that, worked in similar industries, so it wasn't strange that they'd be connected across endless topics from pestles to battleships, from work to the deeply personal.

 

Cut to me, sitting there with my stomach churning for some inexplicable reason. On the other side of the glass, Dral was singing with intense, soul-baring emotion, except the song was about heartbreak in a love triangle. He got so into it that the three of us kept shooting each other startled glances, equal parts awkward and on the verge of bursting out laughing.

 

What exactly am I doing with my life right now?

 

After enduring nearly an hour stuck in the control room, I was finally set free. The moment I got back to my desk, Em opened fire with a barrage of questions.

 

"You vanished, man."

 

"Krich wouldn't let me go. I sat there withering away in the recording room, nearly falling asleep."

 

"Anything you want to share?"

 

"Share what?"

 

"That woman."

 

"What about her?"

 

"Well, P'Mee told me she's the future sister-in-law."

 

"What?"

 

"Their parents have arranged for them to get married. Straight out of a novel, right?"

 

I had to admit, I was genuinely shocked at what I'd just heard. Even so, I forced my expression and emotions as flat as possible, like I felt absolutely nothing.

 

Crumbling, dissolving, falling apart, unable to stand straight every symptom combined was the most accurate definition of me right now.

 

Clock-out time arrived, and everyone packed up to head home. Thank god tomorrow was work-from-home, no need to drag myself awake at the crack of dawn, leave the house early, cram onto a packed train just to get to work.

 

But before thinking about tomorrow, I had to survive the present first. Since the studio wasn't far from the soi entrance, I decided to walk to the train station, never imagining someone else would fall into step right beside me along the way.

 

"Oh hey, old man."

 

"'Old man' again."

 

"Fine, fresh start." Krich's face showed clear irritation, so I responded by turning my head away, pretending I hadn't seen him before, then turning back to face him again. "Oh, hey, oooold man"

 

A brand-new version of old man' now with extra pitch for variety.

 

"This kid." He shook his head, exasperated. 

 

"Where are you walking to?"

 

"The train station."

 

"Mind if I tag along? My car won't start."

 

"Karma's definitely got it out for you. That's the third car now, isn't it? Breaking down this consistently looks suspicious."

 

"Tell me about it."

 

And he refused to explain any further. Wouldn't say whether he'd called insurance or not, just cut things off by saying he'd leave the car at the studio for now. 

 

Exhausted from the whole day, I didn't feel like pressing further just let him walk along with me to the destination. Since it was rush hour for office workers everywhere, the station was packed solid. By the time we actually got on, we'd queued through three trains already.

 

"So many people here."

 

He and I both hung onto the same railing, packed in among the crowd with barely any space left, which closed the distance between us until we were nearly pressed together. Close enough that I could feel his warm breath. To shake off the awkwardness, I leaned in and whispered close to his ear, purely to mess with him.

 

"You could sit in the priority seat, you know. Since you're old."

 

I'd say he fully qualified for the senior citizen category.

 

"That's so mean." A pretty weak comeback, but it was already enough to leave my heart feeling unreasonably refreshed.

 

The doors closed, and the train pulled out of the platform. Everyone on board was glued to their phone screens, the textbook definition of a heads-down society. I was one of them too, not knowing what else to do, scrolling absently. But it seemed there was one person who refused to look down, instead...

 

"You looking for trouble, staring at me?" I blurted out after being watched for quite a while.

 

“I'm bored, just looking around at things."

 

"Don't stare at people too long, you'll get a kick for it." The moment those words left my mouth, disaster arrived right on cue. Because right as the train picked up speed, a sudden jolt nearly sent everyone's heads pitching forward.

 

Startled, I gripped the railing tighter with one hand, while my other hand shot out to grab the arm of the person beside me for balance. The sudden move made the tall figure look down at me with an unreadable expression.

 

"This isn't getting kicked. This is getting groped."

 

The prophet of being unhinged, this guy!

 

"Look at that word choice. Influenced by Dral and Sun, are we?"

 

"You don't know anything. They learned it from me, actually. We went to the same university."

 

"Hard to believe."

 

"Go do some research yourself, then."

 

With curiosity already brewing, plus genuinely wanting to know who he used to be, I didn't fight the urge to snoop and immediately scrolled through Dral's Instagram first.

 

And this was just his main account. If this was already this chaotic, imagine what a first account would look like. Old photos and videos all pointed to him as the troublemaker of his year, judging by every documented escapade. Unbelievable.

 

I kept scrolling until I stopped on one photo that must have been years old. Krich back then was still in a student uniform, his hair slightly longer than now, standing and holding drumsticks among a group of friends, seniors, and Juniors of all kinds. Even standing among dozens of people, he still stood out above all of them anyway.

 

"You were so cool back then. Faculty heartthrob, weren't you?"

 

"I wasn't anything like that."

 

"But if you were a senior in my faculty, trust me, you'd be the lead in every stage play. Because your face carries the whole show."

 

"Looking for an excuse to say my face is carrying a bad personality, are you?"

 

"You said it, not me."

 

It was none of my business, not even slightly. But the more I saw of his past, combined with the overwhelming charm he now had, the more I wanted to know about his personal relationships.

 

"Did a lot of people have crushes on you in university?"

 

"Quite a few, yeah." He answered quietly, but loud enough for the two of us to hear.

 

"How many partners have you had?"

 

"I don't like talking about exes. Better to stick to the present."

 

My face fell instantly, and I scrambled for some way to find out more about Grace. Her existence shouldn't be something I cared about at all; we'd just met today, even. But the information I'd gotten from Em's mouth kept gnawing endlessly at the back of my mind.

 

"The person I met this afternoon, she..."

 

"Are you hungry?"

 

Krich didn't let me get any further with the question. He chose to change the subject, and all I could do was go along with it.

 

"A little."

 

"There's a Japanese place near the next station I go to regularly. I'd like you to try it. Want to come?"

 

"And what occasion would this invitation be for?"

 

"The occasion of just wanting to sit and bicker with you for a while longer. That's all it is."

 

There were a lot of things I was afraid of in this world. Afraid of ghosts. Afraid of loss. Afraid of loneliness. Afraid of being poor. Afraid of a future that hadn't arrived yet. But one thing that was crystal clear, that I'd only just realised in this very second, was being terrified of being the one to fall first. Afraid of feeling too much. Afraid... of accidentally hoping for something more from him. For us to become something, within whatever this is.

 

We walked out of exit two, turned right, went down the stairs, and a little further on, we reached our destination.

 

This was an old-fashioned Japanese restaurant. Out front stood a wooden sign clearly listing the opening and closing hours, which I couldn't resist teasing the moment I saw it.

 

"Closes at six in the morning. Wow... who's even staying till then?"

 

"Exactly."

 

With just that mutter, Krich led me inside. The whole space was split into two sections: the front with regular tables and seating, and the innermost area, more private, with low tatami-style seating.

 

I lowered myself into a cross-legged position slowly, since my body still hadn't fully recovered from the soreness, then opened the menu and ordered a beer first thing.

 

"You just got over a hangover, and you're drinking again?" The tall figure immediately objected.

 

"Just enough for the vibe, that's all."

 

"One pitcher only, and you only get half. I'll drink the other half."

 

"Deal."

 

Once we'd settled that, we ordered everything we wanted: gyoza, ramen, a juicy beef rice bowl, all fitting for someone who'd had zero appetite all day and had just lain there, listless and drained.

 

"You're not allowed to treat me. This meal's on me."

 

"You have money?"

 

"If I come up short, I'll just put it on your tab for now."

 

"You're terrifyingly good at surviving."

 

In under fifteen minutes, the food and drinks had all arrived. I started the meal by raising my beer glass to toast with the person across from me, then dove fully into the food. It really was as good as Krich had promised.

 

The atmosphere was nice, prices weren't bad, and right now the whole restaurant was just us, giving off ‘rich kid buyout the whole place vibes.’

 

From being allowed only half a pitcher, somehow three whole pitchers had vanished by now. The alcohol must've been kicking in, leaving me feeling a little buzzed.

 

While using my chopsticks, I accidentally dropped a gyoza, but, holding firm to the principle that germs haven't even had time to look yet, I picked it right back up, dipped it lightly in sauce, and, instead of eating it myself, decided to offer it to the person across from me.

 

"Open up."

 

I made my voice cute, batting sweet eyes at him. Krich didn't refuse either, opening his mouth and quietly taking the gyoza I'd taken the trouble to feed him. Why did teasing him make me this happy?

 

"Want another one?"

 

"You feed me. But this time, the piece that's still on the plate."

 

"What, you noticed?"

 

"Obviously."

 

"Then why'd you eat it?" He slowly leaned his face toward me, which dragged up memories from last night when we'd been pressed close together, eventually melting into deep, repeated kisses.

 

"Because you fed it to me."

 

With the answer given, I was the one who pushed against the tall figure's shoulder to push him back. My head filled with confusion, question after question circling what exactly the two of us were, even though I'd just told myself not even hours ago that I didn't need to seek clarity. Sadly, that resolve only lasted a few hours before the same swirling thoughts came right back to torment me.

 

Wouldn't it be better if I finally gathered the courage just to ask directly? I just wanted to know what I should do, and how I should plan my own future. But diving straight into the point felt too abrupt, so I took a gentler approach, circling with a question about someone else first.

 

"Hey, let me ask you something. I want to talk openly, no beating around the bush." I lifted my beer glass and downed nearly half of it in one go, my most reliable method for summoning courage. "I heard you're going to marry Grace."

 

His big hand let the chopsticks drop onto the table the moment he heard the question finish. He looked genuinely stunned before composing his face back to normal.

 

"Where'd you hear that?"

 

"Just answer the question. Is it true or not?"

 

"Not true. Total nonsense. We've been friends since we were kids; our families are close, that's all it is." 

 

Pure relief washed over me. The clarity from his mouth let me smile before he went on to explain further. "There was a time our families talked about marrying us off, sure, but that was ages ago."

 

"Do you like her?"

 

"Not romantically, no."

 

"Why not? She's amazing, pretty, rich, talented."

 

"It's not that there's anything wrong with Grace. I just don't want to be with anyone right now."

 

How do I even describe the feeling of hearing that? Maybe... a numbness washing from head to toe. The phrase 'don't want to be with anyone right now' stated Krich's intentions about as clearly as it gets. So that probably already answered the question of whether the two of us were just a single event that happened and ended in one night.

 

His big hand lifted the beer and drank along with me. He held my gaze in silence, a long stretch of time, before his lips finally moved to let out what was on his mind.

 

"I've never once thought about marriage. Maybe because I'm still young, there's a lot in life I'm still interested in. But the main reason is really simple. I just never believed having a family would make us feel warm."

 

"Have you ever talked about this with your parents or your sisters?"

 

"I have. But nothing changed."

 

"But couldn't you build that yourself? The image of a warm family." If what already existed couldn't fill the feeling that was missing, he could still choose someone new to bring into his life and build the family he'd always envisioned for himself.

 

"Maybe I'm just too much of a coward to start. In case you didn't know, I've never managed to date anyone long. The lonelier I get, the more I need someone, and I'll lean on them, pull them into being part of me, and the moment we start growing attached, the fear of losing them comes right back."

 

"I'll run from the problem. I'll disappear, pull myself out of the relationship without even giving the other person an answer half the time, which is just incredibly selfish."

 

"I totally understand."

 

Getting to know him, seeing his fragile side, his emotional instability, even though he'd been raised to be entirely self-reliant.

 

"This is the best way, honestly. At least if we don't tie ourselves down, we don't have to exhaust ourselves trying so hard to hold onto anyone."

 

I smiled at his answer, and at my own decision too. That's right. What I'd just learned only reinforced the understanding that I shouldn't bring up our status ever again.

 

Not starting was best. Not starting meant no attachment, no pain. In case one day his fear crept in and he wanted to disappear, I wouldn't have to deal with loss or sit there crying my eyes out endlessly. I'd keep living my life, move forward, and start over more easily. To lock in this life goal for certain, we needed a clear, defined line.

 

"Same for me. When you get attached to someone and then have to lose them, it's just too agonising."

 

No idea exactly when tears had started welling up uncontrollably. I must really be drunk, I told myself, quickly avoiding his gaze by pretending to slump face down onto the table, going over the same thought again and again.

 

No attachment, no pain.

But then why... does it hurt this much already?