Plan B to U

Chapter 6 - From Enemy to Subordinate.

A coworking space in the Thonglor area became our meeting spot on the work-from-home day. I'm the type who gets bored easily, and the ghost fear was still in my system, so I didn't want to be home alone. The moment the timing looked right, I invited my besties to work outside for a change of scene.

 

"Out of everything, you order Hawaiian. No imagination whatsoever." Nikm looked up and shot me a glare while grumbling away.

 

Once the food and drinks were sorted, I dropped the pizza tray in the middle of the table among the three open laptops.

 

"I like it. My business, isn't it?"

 

I was the one ordering, so I got to choose.

 

"I wanted snakeskin gourami topping, busybody." Em was the first to grab a slice and start chewing away, even though he'd just finished insulting me. But seriously, snakeskin gourami pizza?

 

"You're talking more nonsense every day."

 

"Ever heard of fusion food?"

 

"Enough. Stop!"

 

Two weeks into the internship now. Our lives had a few problems to keep patching up, but overall things were smooth. Today there was an important meeting starting in half an hour, so we had enough free time to catch up with each other.

 

"So how's it going with you and P'Krich these days?"

 

"Enemies," I answered Nikm while pulling a slice out of the tray.

 

"You proved the house isn't haunted, though. Why aren't you two good yet?"

 

"It's not just about the ghost anymore. It's about trust. Deep-rooted grudges." Could I ever trust someone like that again? Says he never lied, then turns it around on us for not asking the right questions.

 

Honest confession: it stung, being made a fool of like that. Even with him trying to make up for it, it wasn't enough to undo what I'd lost. And that's not even counting the mental toll, the paranoia, the sleepless nights from constantly fearing the ghost would show up again. Letting it end too easily wouldn't satisfy me.

 

"I think he's actually been pretty kind to us, considering he knows exactly why you applied to intern at his company."

 

"Don't be fooled. He's got all the power. He could do whatever he wants to us."

 

"All I've seen is you scheming to mess with him. So what have you actually managed to pull off?"

 

Em's words landed like a sharp blade straight to the chest. Truth was, I hadn't succeeded at a single damn thing. But if effort never betrays anyone, then someday it had to pay off as long as I didn't give up first.

 

"This kind of thing takes time." I was comforting myself. But judging by the track record of failed attempts so far, success was looking pretty far off.

 

Tried the shallow plan of brewing super-sweet coffee. P'Nest grabbed it and drank it, and got chewed out instead.

 

Tried to make him look bad at the grill restaurant, but it just ended up making him look more approachable and humble. So next time, I needed a more elaborate plan to guarantee results.

 

"Just a warning: whatever you do, don't let it backfire on you. You're dumb enough as it is."

 

A true best friend. If he didn't insult me once a day, he probably couldn't sleep.

 

"You've got such a mouth on you."

 

"One more question  in the end, how do you actually want this whole thing to end?"

 

I mulled the question over and over. There was a small ache in letting go of something for the sake of a better future. As much as I loved the house, I couldn't feel at ease living there anymore. The reason was simple: the seller hadn't been honest from the start.

 

"I want my money back and to give the house back to him. But if someone buys it off me before that, I'd consider it the end of the war between Krich and me." I bit into another slice while looking at my conversation partner. Now it was Em's turn to be the target for once. "Let me pry into your life for a change. What's the deal with P'Mee?"

 

"I'm serious about her."

 

"You've said that line about a hundred times now."

 

"P'Mee is literally perfect for me. Kind, cute, great style, works like a pro, would absolutely take care of me."

 

Hmm... that last bit sounded a bit off. Sounds like he's hoping to mooch off her.

 

"Want to go home and let your mom take care of you instead?"

 

"I have a mom already. I want a wife. I want to get married." He pulled a pouty face, scratching the back of his neck bashfully as he said it. "She probably likes me; she never stops talking to me."

 

"Surprising. How come she looked totally indifferent to you at the studio, then?"

 

"She's shy." With that, he flipped his phone screen around, revealing part of a chat. Em showed off a proud face while Nikm and I sat there utterly confused.

 

"This is literally just work talk. Like hell that's 'liking you'!"

 

"Talking about work still counts as talking, doesn't it?"

 

"Can you sense something, Nile?"

 

"Sense what?"

 

"A disaster."

 

Nikm and I cracked up at the joke, before each catching an enlightened smack to the back of the head.

 

"Keep it up, and I'll kick your teeth in. Haven't you two heard that closeness makes you see each other more clearly?"

 

"Your true self is probably so great. I'm just scared the more she gets to know you, the more she'll run."

 

"Save your mouth for eating pizza, idiot." Nikm wasn't fazed by the insult at all and leaned in even more provocatively, which made him the new target for us to grill instead. "What about you? Anything to update us on?"

 

"Nothing dramatic like you two, but ever since the studio started planning the Offline Youth album launch, I've been seriously following the band's music, reading every interview, watching every behind-the-scenes thing. Damn! I'm so into it now that I've declared myself a diehard fan and already bought a secondhand vinyl record. Now I'm hunting down their first-run band merch."

 

"Good grief, you're a lost cause."

 

"Trust me, in two months you'll have run off to stan a different band."

 

"Save your mouth and go eat pizza with Nile."

 

Topics exhausted, we each sank into our own worlds. Nikm browsed for merch, Em searched for creative ways to court girls, and I was drafting an actual checklist of ideas to mess with P'Krich. Took it more seriously than actual work. But, incredibly, having him around meant I was never lonely anymore.

 

With the creative team meeting closing in, Em scrambled and excused himself to the bathroom. Nikm didn't need to join since he was in a different department. So I was the first to click the link and stand by, only to find that someone had already joined the call before me.

 

Krich.

 

His face was prominent on screen, but he sat eerily still, like a frozen image. I tried saying hi, tried waving, but got no response or movement from the other end at all.

 

"Can you see me? Can you hear me?" Still no movement, and, bonus, I couldn't stare too long. He's handsome. I'd lose. 

 

"Internet down? The company looks like it's got a budget and could spare some of it for better internet service. Pathetic."

 

He really wasn't moving, kind of fun, actually. Getting more worked up by the moment, I gave him sparkly eyes, made cat-ear hands, blew a kiss, and finished off with a middle finger to the screen. Not just one; I had to give him a double.

 

Click, click, cliiick.

 

"We hate each other enough that you'd flip me off?"

 

"What the!!" The moment that low voice came through, I nearly fell backwards out of my chair, middle finger still frozen midair. 

 

"Since when has the connection been live?!"

 

"Since the very beginning."

 

"Wow, that's a terrible thing to do. Isn't that bullying your subordinate?" If there was blame to dodge, somebody else could take it, not me.

 

"When did I bully you? I just wanted to keep an eye on staff behaviour." Krich crossed his arms, the corner of his mouth curling into a smug little smile. "You really are something, aren't you? I bet if I let my guard down, I'd get talked about something terrible behind my back."

 

"You want it that badly?" I leaned in until my nose nearly touched the screen, tilting my head as a challenge.

 

"Terribly. Very terribly."

 

"Terribly what?"

 

"Oh, hell!!"

 

'Mee's appearance startled me for the second time. Krich let out a laugh before instantly snapping back to a serious face the next moment, as if nothing had happened.

 

I hated myself so much. Every single time I tried to mess with him, some cursed coincidence always swooped in to ruin it.

 

"Nothing's going on, P'Mee."

 

"Okay." She nodded in acknowledgement, then quickly shifted her attention from me to the other person, her slender eyebrows knitting together.

 

"P'Krich, you're in the office?"

 

"Yeah. Turns out Dral and Sun are so indie they refused to send the demo files online, so I had to come into the studio to wait for a USB drive. I'll share it in the chat afterwards."

 

True to their indie-band-of-the-era reputation. At least they hadn't regressed all the way to the Stone Age. Hearing they'd insisted on a USB drive left me genuinely stunned. How had everyone at this label been managing artists like this all along? Hard to believe.

 

"Why didn't you tell me? You went through all that trouble for nothing."

 

"It's no trouble. I was just bored of being at home."

 

Based on various past situations, there was a decent chance that the idea that Krich didn't like being at home was true. I kept it to myself, though filing it away as a possible weak point for future leverage.

 

I sat quietly waiting as the team trickled in one by one, with P'Nest joining last. The key agenda was just timeline planning, so the meeting started and ended in only fortyfive minutes, wrapping up with the interns being assigned to help select songs suitable for the album.

 

Being extremely indie, Offline Youth had released almost 30 songs in total. But we needed to narrow it down to just ten. The job was brutal. For now, just had to wait for the demo files, listen, and send back feedback. Discussion of concept and music videos would come later.

 

Krich wasn't the fussy type; he trusted his team enough to let each person do their job.   After he closed the meeting, everyone dropped off the call one by one. Only I was held back by that low voice.

 

"Where's the new kid?"

 

"A coworking space. Came to grab some food so my brain would actually work."

 

"Perfect. There's a favourite restaurant of mine there. Tell 'Junior' Nile to grab a bento box and bring it to the office." This was definitely a calculated payback. And the deliberate weight he put on the senior/junior thing how was I not supposed to be suspicious?

 

"There are riders for a reason. Why doesn't 'Senior' order it himself?"

 

If he could play, I could play right back—Fair's fair.

 

"Aren't you a rider, though? Don't worry, I'll tip appropriately."

 

"I actually have to work today. I'm not looking to slack off."

 

"This is part of the work. Get to the studio quickly; I'll have you help listen to the first demo version. I'll send the order details over on Line."

 

I opened my mouth to argue, but he hung up first, leaving me stranded, swearing nonstop. My friends had to sit there patting my back until I calmed down. In the end, the boss's orders always took priority, so I had to swallow it. Whether I wanted to go or not, go I did.

 

The Rabbit Hole studio on a work-from-home day was so quiet. Normally, the moment you stepped inside the building, you'd hear music playing in the background, staff chatter, footsteps, movement. But what greeted me this time was completely different. Right now it was probably just me, him, and the security guard keeping watch at the entrance.

 

"Wooow, so handsome." I spotted Krich sitting on a bean bag chair, fingers idling over an acoustic guitar in the lounge area, and couldn't resist teasing him. In that good a mood, was he? He looked up immediately and flashed a smile so devastating it could steal a soul.

 

"I know."

 

Wow. A little humility would go a long way.

 

"That was sarcasm, by the way."

 

"I knew that too."

 

"Do you know that you're actually incredibly annoying?"

 

"I know that perfectly well."

 

Done arguing. Exhausting. Waste of my life.

 

With that thought, I strode over to the round table and dropped down the bento boxes he'd had me buy, getting it over with.

 

"Why two boxes? Eating both yourself?"

 

"Not eating alone. The other one's for you."

 

"My ears must be deceiving me. What are you scheming?" Krich shrugged it off; he clearly wasn't going to believe me no matter what, so caution it was. 

 

"I already ate pizza. Keep it for yourself."

 

"Fine then. So, how much for the food?"

 

"Two thousand."

 

"Definitely not."

 

"One thousand."

 

"Still not right. Just leave the bill; I'll handle it."

 

"You said you'd give a tip."

 

"Right, right."

 

The moment I knew there was extra money coming, happiness multiplied rapidly. I grinned wide while the tall figure carefully leaned the guitar against the vinyl record cabinet and shifted himself from the lounge over to the round table, big hands unpacking the meal box and digging in naturally. While we waited, I set up my laptop to connect to the expensive speakers via Bluetooth.

 

"I want to know why your studio is so chill. About to release a whole album and there's no urgency at all."

 

At any other place, there'd be a hundred checklists, work piled sky-high, after-hours messages demanding things be ready by morning. But I'd never once run into that, even after two weeks of working there.

 

"It's all on schedule. Besides, you can't pin artists down too tightly. They're too artsy for that."

 

"They sure do."

 

No telling where the members of Offline Youth would wander off to next after the beach. They were definitely the restless, never-settle type.

 

"Have a listen." Krich handed me the USB drive.

Another small wonder I hadn't seen in ages. Usually everything goes up to the cloud.

 

"I don't really know much about music, but I can at least say how it makes me feel." 

 

A caveat first: in the end, the decision was still up to him, the producer, and the artists themselves. The moment my finger tapped open the drive, the first thing I saw was a folder named

 

"DarunAndSun_Final_Final_Final." I guessed there'd be plenty more "finals' to come, since they never stopped revising.

 

Without delay, I hit play on the first track of the folder. A bright, clear voice rang out through the speakers, colouring the once-quiet atmosphere. As a SynthPop band, they made fairly easy-listening music, and, combined with the band's signature poetic language, this quickly, deeply, and movingly pulled listeners into the songs' world.

 

Track after track played without rewinding for a second listen. Jotted rough impressions in my personal notebook, but one question kept nagging at me...

 

"Why does Offline Youth love writing heartbreak songs so much? Did they actually go through heartbreak?"

 

"Ha. Quite the opposite; they're madly in love."

 

"Huh? Then why are they writing heartbreak songs?"

 

"If you want to know, come closer."

 

Krich stared at me while laying out the condition. His words didn't seem trustworthy at all, which made me hesitate.

 

"Just tell me straight."

 

"No."

 

Fine, then. My equal-opportunity nosiness pushed me to risk leaning in close, ear tilted to listen. Believe it or not, my whole heart was hammering nearly out of rhythm as I waited for the answer with rapt attention.

 

Bring it on. Brutal, please.

 

"Because they're artists."

 

"Oh, come on!" Not even expecting much and still disappointed, can you imagine? I yanked myself back, swearing loudly, while Krich looked thoroughly entertained by the prank, grinning ear to ear. "I thought it'd be some secret thing, like writing heartbreak songs because of a secret affair."

 

"You've been watching too many films."

 

"You're so irritating, old man."

 

"Old man this, old man that. So how do you feel listening to it?"

 

"Give me a moment to let it settle."

 

"If you're still working it out, listen to something else for now." I nodded, skipping to a new track and committing to listening. And to build the mood for diving deeper into these profound songs, I requested some reinforcement.

 

"Can I... mix a cocktail to drink while we listen? The vibe's coming on."

 

"Sure."

 

With permission granted, I marched off to the bar zone, eyes sweeping over the rows of bottles, hard to choose. But it was fun trying something new.

 

"Want some?" I called out to the tall figure, who answered almost instantly.

 

"No. Scared of dying."

 

He never let his guard down. From the start, our relationship was like that of two people who could never fully trust each other. Whenever one of us slipped, the other would seize the moment to throw a finishing blow. Naturally, I didn't want to be caught out either. Just today I was temporarily too lazy to plan any revenge.

 

"Too much suspicion isn't healthy, old man."

 

Mouth talking, hands meanwhile pouring vodka into the shaker, then tequila, finishing with a shot of gin. Nikm and Em had tried this combo before, guaranteed to send you floating off into the great beyond.

 

"How's your house been? Run into anything strange lately?"

 

"No. But don't think I'm giving up; I've just got a temporary truce with the ghost for now."

 

The 'ghost' in question was actually the cat. Once I knew a litter of kittens was living under the same roof, I picked out a couple of types of cat food to keep in stock. Late at night, I'd find a moment to pour some into a bowl and leave it by the garden. Believe it or not, by the next morning the food was almost always gone.

 

Even so, I had no plans to bring them in and raise them properly. Not wanting to get attached, I just let them live freely. Whenever they got hungry, they could come back to this house, and that was enough.

 

Track eight ended, and track nine played on, reaching a hook that struck me hard.

 

"This absolutely wrecks me. Satisfying for anyone heartbroken."

 

"Have you been heartbroken before?"

 

Not quite; never, just so long ago I'd nearly forgotten the feeling. Especially after my dad fell ill, I never had time to look for love. But I could relate to people who'd faced something similar, at least a little. The clearest case was Em, who got dumped by his ex in first year and cried like a dog—pretty pitiful state.

 

"Sure have. But in the end I lost because he chose someone else."

 

"He made the right call, not choosing you."

 

Damn it.

Wanted to curse my provocation-loving boss out, but had to suppress it by lifting the cocktail glass and drinking. One swig and I was wide awake. The fog in my head turned into a buzzing clarity like Lucy's; my brain unlocked to 100 per cent.

 

"I could storyboard the MV for this song right now."

 

"Go ahead, tell me."

 

"The backdrop is her wedding, and he's a guest. The couple's presentation video plays over flashbacks of his memories with her. He wants to cry but can only force a pained smile."

 

"Cliché." He'd probably die if he didn't argue.

 

"Sometimes sadness and romance just need to be allowed to be cliché! You can't always be the first and only one in the world!"

 

"Are you drunk?"

 

"I am not."

 

"Your eyes are drooping. What did you drink?"

 

"Vodka, tequila, and gin mixed. A twist on the Long Island Iced Tea recipe, you know."

 

"If you collapse, I'm not going to clean up the body."

 

I didn't care at all and even showed off my 'walk in a straight line' skills for good measure. Turned out that by the time I made it back to the table, I'd accidentally knocked over a full three chairs.

 

The folder reached track seventeen. The achingly sweet melody pulled me out of my daze and the alcohol's grip for a moment. It was so beautiful I had to squint at the laptop screen to check the title. Sadly, it was the one untitled track, with only a long placeholder filename: no title, but made for someone who is falling in love.

 

"I absolutely love this song. This one's the best, hands down."

 

"You haven't even finished listening, and you've already decided." Krich pointed out.

 

"Fine, I'll wait until it's done before deciding for real."

 

My ears still registered sound, but my eyes started drooping. I propped my arm on the table and rested my chin on it, ready to fall asleep any second. Song after song played on, and by the time all twenty-eight had finished, the answer in my head only grew clearer.

 

"Can I just pick all the songs to go in the album?"

 

"To do quality work, you have to know how to cut the weak parts. If you put out a bad song, who's going to listen?"

 

No idea how long I'd been sitting like that, eyes barely open, trying to look at the person across from me who was already staring back at my face.

 

"In that case, can we play track seventeen one more time?"

 

He said nothing, just played the track I asked for. The melody and sweet lyrics worked like a time machine, pulling me back to my teenage years, when I searched for bright, fresh love, imagining someone who'd make my heart race.

 

"Either way, this is still my favourite."

 

I wanted to feel that way again—the feeling of a first love, loving by ignoring all the practical things, status, and money.

 

"I believe you mean it now."

 

"And do you like it?"

 

I asked, genuinely curious. Krich looked taken aback, his eyes deep and unreadable. He pressed his lips together and let several long seconds of silence pass before giving up waiting.

 

"Mm. Great minds think alike."

 

But then, in a moment I wasn't ready for, the earlier question was answered in a serious tone.

 

"...”

 

"I like it."

 

He must've meant the song. Right! He meant the song...

 

The sun had dropped below the horizon. I slowly opened my eyes to discover I was facedown on the table, drool soaking my arm. In such a state, I scrambled upright to pull myself together, but what shocked me more was that Krich was still sitting in the same spot, watching me, unmoving. Was he planning to murder me?

 

"Sorry, I'm drunk." After saying it, I didn't forget to wipe the drool off the corner of my mouth with my sleeve. He'd brought me here to work, and instead I'd gotten drunk and passed out cold.

 

"Hurry and wash your face. We're going somewhere."

 

"Going where?"

 

"Work."

 

"But work hours are over. Isn't this exploiting your employee?"

 

"Who's exploiting whom? Isn't it the employee who slept from afternoon till evening? Where's the value for money in that?" Each word he said left me with nothing to argue. All I could do was hang my head and accept it.

 

"My fault. I'll hurry right now."

 

With that, I scrambled to my feet, stumbling toward the bathroom, hoping to splash water from the sink to wake myself up. Once I'd successfully reclaimed some clarity, the two of us walked out to the car park. Before I could even dig the keys out of my bag, that low voice spoke up first.

 

"Leave the motorbike here."

 

"Sure." I nodded, too tired to argue, and slid into Krich's car obediently, even though I still had a question nagging at me.'

 

"So where are we actually going?"

 

"We're going to watch The Mooooon's live show."

 

"Seriously?!"

 

My eyes went wide. I sat there composed and quiet on the outside while my insides were exploding with excitement.

 

Since the band's formation, I'd never once had the chance to see The Mooooon perform live. I'd only heard rumours that watching them live was supposed to make you feel like you were floating.

 

I used to love concert atmospheres, whether small or big, and my high school friends used to invite me along all the time. Then the day my dad got sick, everything stopped. Life flipped upside down, and on top of that, university piled on so many responsibilities that there was no time left for socialising the way I used to as a kid.

 

Just thinking about it made me sad. I didn't want to be dramatic and demand any sympathy, so I shook the thought out of my head.

 

We arrived at a club in the middle of the city while it was still closed, only security and staff working busily inside. Krich led me, weaving from the front entrance toward backstage, until we ran into someone.

 

"Krich, you didn't even tell me you were coming."

 

"Had some free time, so I figured I'd swing by and check things over. This is one of our interns." 

 

He was a man around forty, with curly hair and a beard, and his eyes drifted over toward me.

 

"Hello, sir." I quickly pressed my palms together in a wai. He returned it casually before the two of them carried on talking.

 

"Any problems today?"

 

"Sound check's fine, no issues there. The thing is, Yel just started seeing someone new, so smitten he was that he was about to bail on the gig entirely. I literally just dragged him out of his room."

 

"Where is he right now?"

 

The senior pointed toward the back, and Krich took hold of my wrist and led me onward until we finally reached the artist's green room.

 

His big hand pushed the door open, revealing all five members of The Mooooon inside. They were scattered across chairs, the floor, leaning on sofa backs. But there was only one Krich who had his focus on the lead singer.

 

"Yel, what's up?"

 

"P'Krich! My darling officially agreed to be my partner!!" The named person rushed in to hug the tall figure, brimming with elation, looking so happy he might choke on his own joy.

 

Wasn't his usual image cool, composed, maybe a bit detached? How did he turn into this love-crazed mess all of a sudden?

 

"Congrats. But from now on you need to draw a better line between your personal life and work. Otherwise, it'll affect your bandmates too."

 

"Got it." He gave a short reply with a smile before turning his full attention to me instead.

 

"Who's this, P'Krich? Don't recognise the face. Someone you're seeing?"

 

What possessed him to ask that? Horrifying~

 

"An intern."

 

"You never used to drag interns along. You're way too easily annoyed for that."

 

"You talk too much."

 

"Hello! I really love your band's music. I always play it in the shower." Not wanting dead air, I took the chance to greet the seasoned artist while slipping in a sincere compliment too.

 

"I'm glad to hear it. Want to stay and listen with us through the whole live show today?"

 

"I would love to." The lead singer reached over and patted my shoulder a few times before excusing himself to prep for the stage, leaving Krich and me alone together for a moment.

 

"Do you usually come to every live show?"

 

"No. Only when I have time. Change of scenery."

 

"You're really like someone who doesn't like being home, even though your house doesn't have a single ghost."

 

His house was luxurious, fully equipped with every comfort. If it were me, I'd hole up there all day, no need to drag myself out and face all the trouble of the outside world.

 

"Don't you know? A ghost isn't as scary as loneliness."

 

"I don't think so. I'd say a ghost and loneliness are equally terrifying. But if I had to pick one, I'd rather endure loneliness than run into a ghost; it would give me a heart attack."

 

"Such a little kid."

 

"Kid this, kid that. Honestly, old man."

 

He wasn't bothered by the sarcasm at all, even laughed and kindly led me out to wait at the front of the stage. The two of us ended up more like audience members than label staff.

 

Evening turned to late night. The venue had been open a while now, and customers kept pouring in steadily. Tickets had sold out within minutes. As staff privilege from the label, we got a free table too, with only one condition from Krich: I wasn't allowed alcohol anymore, only water or soft drinks.

 

Nine PM, close to showtime. The once-sparse crowd had now packed in, tight and lively. The moment the long-awaited artists appeared, screams thundered through the venue.

 

"Hello everyone! We're The Mooooon, ready to float to the moon together?" Everyone answered in unison.

 

"Ready to float to the moon together, old man?" I asked.

 

"I'd rather float your ashes down a river."

 

I hate him...

 

The show opened with an upbeat track that was the band's DNA. They performed it with intensity, pumping the crowd's adrenaline to its peak, which gave me the nerve to grab both of Krich's hands and dance. The tall figure resisted cooperating at first, but eventually couldn't withstand my shamelessness any longer, and let himself become like a puppet for me to direct.

 

And that's exactly when my brilliant brain whipped up a sudden plan for revenge. Since I hadn't managed any decent payback so far, this was the moment hope returned.

 

"Sorry, sorry, stepped on your foot," I told the person beside me, voice teasing. Still bitter, so while dancing along, I put my full weight on stomping his foot, hard. Krich shot a look over, but his expression remained completely calm.

 

How's that? A concrete plan? Brilliant. Dangerous. Not satisfied yet, I bumped him with my hip again, then faked an apology to fish for sympathy.

 

"Oops, sorry, got a bit too into the dance there, woo~"

 

"My apologies. Got jostled."

 

Wow, standing nearly an arm's length away, and he claims "jostled! He must've been irritated at being on the receiving end the whole time, so he retaliated by closing the distance and slamming his shoulder into me with a solid thump. As if I'd let that go, I drove an elbow back into his side, scoring one point.

 

"So sorry, my elbow just happened to slip."

 

"You should be more careful with that. Might accidentally hit someone else."

 

Not just words, Krich used the moment to wrap an arm around my waist and pull me in, leaving almost no space between our bodies. A little irritated, I tried to wriggle out of his grip, but he just tightened his grip even more until I started tiring myself out.

 

"Stay still."

 

"I won't mess with you anymore." Going full pleading eyes on him, basically. It worked. He eased his grip, letting me breathe easier, and the distance returned to what it was before. My focus drifted back to the stage, and from there I got to hear songs of all kinds of moods  upbeat, deeply sad, dreamlike and it closed with the final song... the one that introduced us to the word love'

 

"Have you ever felt it  when you're with someone, your whole body feels light, floating, like you're in a dream?"

 

The lead singer's distinctive voice rang out through the mic. He stood slightly out of breath at centre stage, soaked in sweat, and yet his face was brimming with happiness.

 

"Yel's really feeling it tonight." Krich leaned in to whisper in my ear.

 

"Oh, you mean the whole just got a partner thing?"

 

"Yeah. He doesn't normally perform this hard."

 

"Looks like you're going to have to start actively encouraging your artists to fall in love from now on."

 

"Falling in love is fine, just don't switch partners too often." He said it half-jokingly, gaze fixed ahead.

 

"If you find someone who makes you feel that way, hold their hand and float away together." As Yel's voice trailed off, the whole venue filled with the gentle strum of electric guitar, followed by bass, synthesiser, drums, and the lead singer's gorgeous voice carrying us into a weightless, imagined gravity, true to the song's name: Low Gravity.

 

Everyone in the crowd held hands. Krich and I didn't do that; we just swayed gently to the music. It had been so long since I'd gotten to be part of a music event. My teenage years had been stolen, unrecoverable, and I'd never expected a day like this until, at twenty-two, he brought me here to experience this precious moment.

 

"You have to hold hands for this song to really hit."

 

That's when our pinky fingers accidentally brushed against each other. My whole body felt like it had been hit with a faint electric shock, and I had to turn and meet his eyes.

 

"OK." And it was me who agreed, taking his hand the way he'd asked.

 

Someone once told me that when you're near someone you like, your body feels light, relaxed, drifting like a dream. I hadn't felt that in a long, long time, until I met him. It wasn't love, exactly; it was some other feeling...

 

Someone who turned the most ordinary days into a story full of so much hatred, the kind of bitterness that wants payback, and at the same time, gratitude for bringing colour back into my life.

 

I didn't want to care anymore how contradictory this feeling was right now. So what if we're enemies? Tonight we can just have fun together. And tomorrow, we can go back to hating each other again.