West: The Sun From Another Star

Dad & Son - a famous song by Cat Stevens

 

~Arthit's father~

 

I looked up from the pile of documents in front of me and noticed my phone was ringing.

 

[Small sperm]

"What's up?"

 

(Direk, the security guard won't let your child in.)

"Huh, why is that?"

 

(I don't know, is he new? He said he doesn't know me.)

 

"Probably so. Let me have someone handle it."

I hung up and immediately called my secretary.

 

"My son is stuck outside the company; the security guard won't let him in. Can you help me resolve this?" 

 

(Excuse me, sir, the new security team probably doesn't know he's your son yet. I'll handle it right away.) 

 

"Yes, remember to remind them to be careful." 

(Yes, I will remind them. Do you wish to deduct their salaries?) 

 

"No need, I guess my son has already scolded them enough." 

(I understand.) 

 

Not long after, my precious son walked into the office. Looking at him, it's no wonder the security guard wouldn't let him in. Just look at him: a black tank top, knee-length shorts, flip-flops, messy hair, tattoos all over his arms and legs, a scruffy beard – he looked like a robber. 

 

"What the hell are you wearing?" I asked. 

 

"Well, I'm just lazy. My dad's the chairman, so what's the problem? They don't even believe me when I tell them I'm the chairman's son." 

 

"If I were the security guard, I wouldn't let you in either," I replied, continuing to process the pile of documents on my desk. After finishing, I led Thit out of the room. Glancing at the secretary sitting at her desk, she immediately stood up. 

 

"Have you made the reservation at the restaurant I asked for?" 

 

"Yes." 

 

"I'll be back at the office around this afternoon." 

 

"Yes, enjoy your meal, sir." 

 

She bowed in greeting. Thit and I walked out of the company. On the way, I glanced at him. Seriously, couldn't you dress a little more presentably? You're the chairman's only son, after all! 

 

"Whose car is parked there?" 

 

"It's your car, of course!" 

 

"Is Direk planning to drive the child?" 

 

"Don't you think you should drive me?" 

 

"What's so strange? I thought I'd get to be driven by my dad – the chairman!"

 

I sighed at his comment. Thit walked around, opened the car door, and gestured for me to get in. Why is he so mischievous? I sat in the passenger seat next to the driver, while he sat in the driver's seat. The car was a supercar worth nearly 30 billion VND, but look at the way he's dressed... 

 

"Next time you come to see me, dress properly." 

 

"What's up?" 

 

"Look at me, then look at yourself," I said. Since I was going to work, I was wearing a smart, neat suit. 

 

"Direk, would you like to change your style to be like mine? Like mine, it's more comfortable that way." 

 

"Leave me alone, let me maintain my image for a bit. Even though I'm your father, I'm still the chairman."

 

"Then where should we eat?" 

 

"The restaurant we went to last time." 

 

"Yes, Mr Chairman!" Thit said, then started the car and drove off. Suddenly, he slammed on the gas pedal, sending the car surging forward and pinning me to my seat. I couldn't resist and reached out to lightly slap him on the head. 

 

"Ow! Why did you slap me, Dad?" 

 

"Drive properly, you devil!" 

 

"Stop grumbling!" 

 

"Thit, this is a street, not a race track." 

 

"Alright, alright!" It drawled, clearly teasing, but it also slowed down. 

 

Because my family has been in the automotive business for a long time, Thit has been exposed to cars since he was a child. He's fascinated by cars and is an excellent driver, almost innate. If you asked him to race, I'm sure he wouldn't lose to anyone. Well, except for one time, when he lost to his friend Johan. But the next time, he won. They kept drawing, each winning once, and then never raced again. 

 

Last night, he called me. He sounded drunk, which isn't surprising. Every time he's drunk, he calls me. It's like I'm his ex-girlfriend or something. 

 

At first, I was his father, then gradually became his friend. Now I've been promoted to his ex-wife. 

Di-rek. 

I've already done everything for Meat. 

 

My name is Direk, and I'm Thit's father. I don't understand how I raised him to have such a personality. But honestly, he's exactly like me when I was young. They say "like father, like son," but this guy is stuck to his tree; he's practically inseparable from it. 

 

My father and his grandfather raised me in a friendly way, so I've raised him that way since he was little. I want to be his friend, someone he can confide in, tell everything to. He wants to talk about anything, without hiding anything. I'm willing to accept everything, and I've never been disappointed in him. And that's understandable, because I didn't expect much from someone like him. 

 

I raised my son quite leniently. Look at him, he drinks alcohol, and he smokes cigarettes. One day, I called, and he said he was busy because he was "having fun" with girls. I just said, "Okay, call me back when you're done." Maybe it's because I was raised that way too, which is why he turned out the way he did. But I didn't neglect him, so he didn't become addicted to drugs or end up in jail. Those impulsive, reckless moments were mostly just youthful recklessness. Regardless, he knows how to manage himself and understands the limits. 

 

No matter how strict I was in raising him, no matter how rough and gruff Thit might seem on the outside, he's incredibly sensitive when it comes to his parents. He's probably never truly loved anyone other than us. Friends are important to him because he values them highly. But in other matters, he's always strong. When an acquaintance dies, he's genuinely sad; he might drink a little, but if it's about his mother, he can never handle it. Just thinking about it might bring him down.  And I'm no different from it. 

 

Her story, his mother's, was like a taboo subject between the two of us.  We never told each other how heartbroken we were. We never mentioned our mothers unless absolutely necessary. We just turned away and cried alone. But no one understood Thit better than I did, and no one understood me better than he did. 

 

Thit cried when his mother passed away and at the funeral. He wouldn't admit he ever cried, but I saw a few tears fall, and then he quietly wiped them away. After that, he probably never cried again. Because he didn't cry, he didn't express his pain, those wounds were never healed. 

 

He’s not weak; on the contrary, he’s very strong. But this one thing is the only exception.

He drove to the restaurant's parking lot, which I had instructed my secretary to reserve. 

 

"Why is the place so empty? Did Direk book the whole place again?" 

 

"Okay," I replied, then got out of the car. 

 

"What is Bao doing?" 

 

"Well, they're rich." 

 

"You're really rich these days, aren't you? This isn't good." 

Just hearing that, I could immediately guess what he was going to say next. It'll probably be at least 300 million. 

 

"Please give me 400 million dong, I'm planning to buy a new car." 

 

"Which car?" 

 

"Lexus." 

 

"LC?" 

 

"Correct." 

 

"Where did the winnings from last time go?" 

 

"I've put it away." 

 

"You devil, you should have used your own money to buy a car, but instead you hid it, and now you're asking me for money?" 

 

"Come on, let me compete one more time, and then I'll give it back to you." 

 

"No need to race anymore. Just focus on your shift at the hospital!" 

 

"What's going on?" Thit said, his voice full of frustration. Every time he races, it's at my racetrack. On nights when his name is on the list, the track is always much livelier. He's truly the goose that lays the golden eggs of the racetrack. But if he doesn't show up for a while, the atmosphere suddenly becomes quiet, and everyone asks about him. So I've been hesitating for a long time, wondering if I should let him continue racing. Even though he's good, racing is still dangerous. 

 

It's rare that we have lunch together. When he was in high school, I always tried to come home for dinner with him. It wasn't very often at first, but since his mother passed away, I've tried to make more time for him. No matter how busy I am, I always drag myself home, eat dinner, and listen to him tell his stories. 

 

There was the pretty student teacher with big breasts. The PE teacher was old and had many problems. There was a third-grade girl who liked him, but he didn't like her because she had small breasts. Or that afternoon, he fell while playing soccer and scraped his knee. The water pressure in the science building's restroom was weak. He failed his literature exam. There was an eighth-grade boy who stared at him during lunch, and he got so angry that he poured his whole bowl of beef noodle soup on him. Then there was the fight in the cafeteria, and the supervisor called him in. But I didn't apologise to the other side; it was too embarrassing.

 

That's all the messy story about him at school. After going to university, he moved out into an apartment, and I saw him less often because I was busy with work. We only had meals together occasionally, like today. Although he looked like a delinquent, he studied medicine. And his friends were so strange; I really didn't understand why Hill and Tonfah were friends with him.

 

We ordered food at a quiet restaurant because I had made a reservation. I asked him about how he’d been lately. Thit said his job at the hospital was very troublesome, and he’d unintentionally scolded patients a few times already.

 

"Don't scold people, you're a doctor, understand?" 

 

"It's just so annoying, and now there are doctors monitoring him too. But if I were a real doctor, I'd definitely have to hit patients. I might even punch the doctors, Dad." 

 

"I'm getting really stressed out. Are you planning to continue studying to become a specialist doctor?" 

 

"No, I'm too lazy. Why are you asking?" he asked while putting a piece of steak into his mouth. 

 

"I think you should continue studying psychiatry; it would be a good fit for you." 

 

"Why is that?" 

 

"Mentally ill patients would probably feel better seeing you. Mom, those doctors are even worse off than me." My remark made Thit burst out laughing, almost choking. 

 

"Yeah, but I heard Fah is interested in psychiatry."

 

"That's a good fit, Fah would be great at anything, whether it's being a doctor or not, but you think carefully about it." 

 

"Hey, what's the difference between Cơ and Fah?" 

 

"Haha, that's the silliest question I've ever heard," I said, shovelling rice into my mouth and shaking my head slightly as if I were exhausted. "Let's finish studying first. Look at your grades this semester; I've been really lenient. There aren't any A's or Bs to be happy about."

 

"They call it deliberately showing it to your dad." 

 

"You only got a D because you're a bad person," I said, then sighed again. Test scores are always like this, damn it, but actually, I just wanted to vent my frustration. As a dad, I have to nag about his grades; I'd be acting like some other dad. Actually, I wasn't that serious either; I got Fs all the time in school, and it took me ages to get through that awful period.

 

After finishing our meal, we prepared to leave; I had to go back to work. 

 

"Direk, I'm going to get another tattoo." 

 

"What kind of tattoo?"

 

"I don't know, let me ask the shop to choose one for me." 

 

"Where did you get the tattoo?" I asked because he already had quite a few tattoos, but none of them was visible. The first time he got a tattoo, I even took him there.  His first tattoo was the phrase "Direk's son" near his chest. 

 

Oh well, whatever tattoo he wants, as long as he likes it. What kind of tattoo is "Direk's son" anyway? I can't scold him, because I'd be scolding myself. It's so annoying. 

 

"It's probably a tattoo on the right shoulder." 

 

"What kind of tattoo is that, Direk?" 

 

"Just don't get a face tattoo." 

 

"Why? Everyone else has face tattoos, too." 

 

"Enough, stop clinging to me all the time."

 

"How stingy! They won't even give you a little bit." 

 

"Sigh..." I sighed at its harassment. I now understand how Dilok felt when I harassed him. Dilok is my dad; you probably already know our family names. After dinner, I drove back to the company. 

"With this kind of traffic, I don't know if I'll even make it to the afternoon meeting." 

 

"I probably won't make it in time. Why is there such a traffic jam?" 

 

"That's right." I looked out at the road ahead; the traffic was gridlocked, with no sign of it moving. 

 

"Do I have to attend the meeting in the afternoon?" 

 

"YES." 

 

"Call the secretary and let her know you'll be late." 

 

"I guess that's the case," I called my secretary, informing her I'd be late due to traffic. She said there wasn't much to do that afternoon, and I could spend time with my son since we hadn't seen each other in a long time. She'd finish her work and postpone it until tomorrow. I agreed. 

 

"There's not much to do this afternoon. Want to hang out?" 

 

"Inviting me out? I'm a little embarrassed, but let's go for it, let's go on a date with Direk."

 

"Let's turn the car around and head back to the company." 

 

"Just kidding, where are you going?" 

 

"I don't know, where do you usually go on your days off?"

 

"On a day off like this, I'd just drive around aimlessly, I don't know where else to go, and it looks like it's about to rain." 

 

"Okay, that's fine too." 

 

They turned the car off the congested road, took a different route, listened to old music, and occasionally chatted. 

 

"Direk." 

 

"What's up?"

 

"Is Direk immortal?" 

 

"What nonsense is that?" 

 

"I don't know, will Direk die before me? Can he wait for me to die first?" 

 

"Don't be crazy, I'm the one who should die first, I'm old." 

 

"I'm not sure." 

 

"Listen, Thit, you're still not fully awake, are you? Or is it because it's about to rain?"

 

“Well…” He sighed, his voice dropping. “Then… let’s change the song, damn it.” He said, because the song was now changing to *Father & Son*. 

 

I changed the song immediately because he seemed unable to bear it. It seemed that the story about his friend Donut was affecting him more than I thought. I didn’t want him to talk about his mother, and he didn’t. Believe me, he was just thinking about it but trying to deny his feelings, unwilling to believe it was impossible.  Thit wanted to believe that its mother was still by its side, but it also knew that was impossible. 

 

"I think this song is pretty good. It's not the time to make a change, just relax, take it easy, you're still young." 

 

"Yeah, I know. Ugh, I hate this kind of thing." 

 

"I'm not going to die." 

 

"Really?" 

 

"Yeah, you'll definitely die before me. Or I'll die first, and then I'll send someone to take your life, okay?" 

 

"Yes, that would be good."

 

"It said that," I said, and for some reason, I smiled a little. I wasn't serious, but it seemed like it really wanted it that way. It wasn't ready to let everything fall apart again.

 

"Enough already, damn it! That Donut guy's dead, why does he keep coming looking for me? Can't I kill him one more time? I'm so angry!"

Thit grumbles irritably. That's how it is if anything bothers him. But in just a few days, it'll be back to normal. Leave him alone; he doesn't usually act like that.

 

If you ask if Thit has anyone else besides me, as I said, he has friends, but if you ask about a lover, I think that's unlikely. Partly because of his terrible personality, he loves freedom and hates being tied down. Another reason is that Thit probably doesn't want to experience more suffering, so it doesn't open up to anyone. He doesn't believe in love and isn't interested in having someone by his side.

 

No, that's not it.

My love, our child doesn't believe in love.

Or is it because of us? Because when his mother passed away, I almost died too. Perhaps that's why he doesn't want to love anyone.

 

After a while, it started to rain.

Thit likes to drive when he feels uncomfortable or depressed. He drives around until he feels better. He even drove to the beach once, just imagine.

 

When I heard him talk about his friend Donut, I didn't think his mother was still here. Because his mother didn't die in an accident or get murdered, but died of cancer when Thit was only fifteen or sixteen years old. At that time, I went to all the churches and temples, met with priests, monks, fortune tellers, shamans, everywhere I thought I could contact spirits. But everywhere I went, they said the same thing: his mother was gone, her time was up.

 

I told Thit this story, and we both understood that, although his friend was still alive because his lifespan wasn't over yet, his mother was gone.

 

His mother has passed away peacefully, and now it's just us who have to keep living.

Actually, if you think this story is sad, it's not sad enough. There's something else that not many people know: Thit is mixed-race. His mother was from California, and we lived there until she passed away. We moved back to Thailand because neither of us wanted to live in a place full of memories of her mother. He couldn't bear it anymore.

 

When Thit was 16, he moved to Thailand to study. I had spoken Thai with him since he was little, so he could speak it. Before long, he was fluent, even speaking so fast and rudely that even native Thais would be embarrassed. He studied medicine because of his mother. His mother had been ill since he was a child, and he promised her that he would become a doctor to cure her. Sadly, his mother passed away before he could study medicine. Looking back, it's really sad, isn't it?

 

He was a terrible person, yet deeply wounded.

At the end of the year, we'll go back to California to celebrate Christmas together, since it's our last anniversary. We celebrated Christmas together, just the three of us, before January 3rd, before his mother passed away. Because the end of the year coincides with the anniversary of his mother's death, we'll stay together until after the Lunar New Year before going home. Therefore, neither I nor Thit are allowed to contact the other during that time.

 

Thit's friends also knew about this, so they agreed not to contact him until he returned to Thailand after January 10th. This is the story of Thit, a fourth-year medical student. But let me reiterate, he's not a sad person or anything. Understand? He has wounds, but everyone has their own sorrows. What matters is how we deal with them. Thit has its own way. But what he shows, that grumpy demeanour, isn't to hide anything. He's just a grumpy person with wounds.

 

Furthermore, he doesn't like being pitied. He hates it most when people think he’s weak, so never do that. Thit just a normal person, with weaknesses and vulnerabilities. Just leave it as it is, and he will be fine. Don't overreact, or he might punch you.

 

I let Thit drive, following the road, with the light rain falling. Almost thirty minutes passed, and it seemed to be getting better. I had said it before, just give him some time, and he will be fine. So I started talking to him.

 

"Hey, Meat..."

 

"What's up?"

 

"Let's get married."

 

"Wait a minute, why are you suddenly asking that?"

 

"The daughter of the director of NTY Group, she likes you," I said.

 

"Is Direk forcing his son to get married?"

 

"Yeah, put on a condom before you get married."

 

"What's in that bag?" Thit asked, then burst out laughing. I laughed along. "Is her chest big?"

 

"Why does it have to be about big breasts? What about physical appearance and personality?"

 

"Having big breasts will make up for everything."

 

"Just the size of a cup."

 

"Okay, give her my line number, let me chat first."

 

"Are you serious?"

 

"No, I was just teasing."

 

"Damn it." I shook my head and chuckled, "Are you trying to flirt with the daughter of the CEO of my partner company? Just marry her, okay? She's rich."

 

"How rich are they?"

 

"Johan."

 

"Really? That's great, it's fine as long as the money keeps flowing into my pocket."

 

Just kidding, it's not real...

 

"But all your friends already have boyfriends/girlfriends, right?" I asked.

 

"You doctors? Yeah, they're all here, everyone has a wife, they've forgotten about their friends, they've all flown high."

 

"Don't you see the difference when you're the only one who's still single?"

 

"No, but sometimes I feel a little sad. Johan, he doesn't play with us anymore, he's always chasing after North, and I'm so fed up."

 

"Even Johan could stop? Unbelievable."

 

"I heard he was his first love."

 

"That's so romantic, just like in a novel."

 

"Yeah, just like in the novel, it's so sweet."

 

"You could probably be the main character in some kind of novel, the kind with a sweet, deep romance."

 

"I'd rather be the main character in a pornographic film."

 

"Okay, fine, but I definitely won't be watching any movies you're in."

 

"What's wrong? I act really well!"

 

"So you're going to let me watch the pornographic films you're in? How am I supposed to be a father?"

 

"Don't think of it so petty, Direk," Thit replied indifferently. "And what about you, Direk? Have you ever thought about getting married again? What are you planning to do staring at the secretary's breasts like that?"

 

"Wait, I wasn't looking."

 

"Don't say that, I saw it. Dad looks serious, but he keeps staring at her breasts."

 

"Don't falsely accuse me, I have a new girlfriend, so can you accept that?"

 

"Hmph, no, if you want to see me go crazy, then go ahead."

 

"You're jealous, Thit," I teased. He turned to look at me with a displeased expression, sighing as if to say, "Why are you teasing me like that?" But since Thit rarely shows such emotion, I wanted to tease him even more. 

 

"Poor thing, without me, there's no one. It's uncertain whether your friends will even want to hang out with you anymore."

 

"I don't want to play with them either."

 

"Don't say that. You should thank Tonfah and Hill more, and after you're done studying, remember to bow down to them even more gratefully."

 

"Was that really necessary?"

 

"So what about those two guys? I only know North; I've never heard of Hill and Tonfah."

 

“I don’t know, I probably won’t be as close as I am with North because I don’t want to pick up their bad habits, so I don’t dare talk to them. I’m afraid of catching them,” Thit said. I couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of my son not wanting to talk to his friends just because he’s afraid of catching their bad habits. “He’s like… he’s from another world, he doesn’t want to get involved. And when he talks to their boyfriends, he just says ‘brother’.”

 

"Really?"

 

"Yeah, if I called them 'you' (in a disrespectful way), they'd probably yell at me."

 

We continued chatting until it got dark, then Thit drove me home and back to his apartment. For some reason, I felt much more relieved. It seemed like he was okay now, with no more problems. The story about his friend Donut was over. If Thit was getting better, he wouldn't be thinking about Donut anymore. Hopefully, nothing would upset him again. Even though it only takes a short time to heal, no father wants to see his child suffer.

 

"Drive carefully, this isn't a race track."

 

"I know, don't worry."

 

"Yeah." I closed the car door, and the car drove off, but it even did a drift right in front of my house, as if it were teasing me. I had just told them to drive carefully.

 

════[changbins_delulu_wife]════

 

~Arthit~

I returned to my room after driving around with Direk all afternoon. To be honest, I felt much better. I had finally gotten over Donut. I also stopped thinking that Mom could still exist. And really, how could she? Direk had already gone to find her. I shook it out of my head. But wait, I also want to curse at Donut and Min, I really hate them.

 

A few days later, he moved into the apartment, and the other kids' classes started. I went back to my work at the department as usual. No more time for drinking or racing, just focusing on studying. When I got home, I was tired, played games, and then slept. The noise from the next room was still there, but it had quieted down, probably because that kid was talking to ghosts. I felt much more relaxed.

 

Ah, so that kid is useful after all. Donut is probably satisfied with his chicken rice by now. I run into him a couple of times whenever I go out to study because our rooms are opposite each other. Nothing special, life is as boring as ever.

 

It's raining today because it's the rainy season. I don't find the rain bothersome at all; I'll just let myself get wet, what's the harm? The wind is strong today, too. I went outside and stood on the balcony, smoking as usual, and just like last time, I saw the kid from next door standing there.

 

I've gone out to smoke many times, but he didn't go out for a beer like last time. I only saw him again today. He turned to look at me and took out his wallet.

 

"How much are the cigarettes?"

 

"One hundred a cigarette."

 

He didn't say anything, just handed me a hundred-dollar bill. I gave him cigarettes and lent him my lighter. I'm not lying, imported cigarettes are that expensive.

 

"That's a nice lighter."

 

"YES." 

 

"How much?" 

 

"Are you planning to buy everything?" 

 

"Yes, how much?" 

 

"Two thousand." 

 

"Give me your bank account number. I don't have enough cash." 

 

"Okay, can I switch to PayNow?" 

 

"Give me your phone number," he said. I gave him my phone number so he could transfer the money to my account instead of my account number, since I couldn't remember it either. Who remembers their own account number anyway? A little while later, I received two thousand dong. I gave him the lighter I had just bought; I bought it for two thousand two hundred, but used it a little, so it was reduced to two thousand.

 

"Are you really going to smoke?" I asked, noticing he didn't have a lighter and assuming he wouldn't smoke much. 

 

"Don't know." 

 

"A 7-Eleven lighter only costs a few cents." 

 

"This one has a nice picture." 

 

"You don't mind spending two thousand?" 

 

"Because I like it." 

 

"YES." 

 

We just said that and continued smoking on the balcony. In front of us was a raging downpour. Before, I hadn't noticed because I had so many things to think about, but now that I think about it, the person standing there smoking seemed a bit unusual. He got caught in the rain last time, too, but never mind. This isn't my business.  Everything is ready. 

 

I finished my cigarette and was about to go into my room when I heard the child in the next room say something that made me stop. 

 

"Sorry." 

 

Is it talking to me?  I turned around, looking bewildered, but it didn't look at me. 

 

"No, I'm not thinking about that." 

 

What the hell is this…

 

"Actually, I just feel relieved, there's no problem." 

 

Who is he talking to?  A ghost? Yes, this child definitely saw a ghost; perhaps they're talking to someone in the room. 

 

"Emma, ​​stop complaining." 

 

Emma? 

 

"Since when did Emma start complaining so much?" He said. 

 

I walked into the room, closed the balcony door, and my heart started beating faster. I sat down on the bed, raised my hand to my forehead, not realising I was frowning. 

Emma…My hands started to get cold and tremble, a stomach ache arose, and my heart was pounding faster than ever before.  I immediately called Direk. 

 

(What's up?) 

"Direk, Direk, Direk!" 

 

(What? Why are you so panicked?) 

"Direk, Emma." 

 

(...Meat?) 

 

"The kid in the next room was talking to a ghost; he was calling out Emma's name. I heard it clearly." 

 

(Arthit, are you kidding?)

"I'm not kidding, Direk. Emma is still here, and Mom is still here, too." 

 

(...)