8.

"You should rest."

"It's okay. I didn't want to leave you here alone."

The sentence from last night flashed back into my memory the moment I opened my eyes. I stared blankly at the white ceiling, feeling completely woozy and had to relieve the feeling by tossing and turning wildly.

At that time, I was completely out of it. I didn't even realize I was switching between Thai and English, all jumbled up. And Anwar just followed along, no matter what language I used.

So incredibly embarrassing.

I tried to act cool, to prevent him from thinking I was some lightweight who gets easily drunk, but saying things like that was basically an announcement: "Look, I'm drunk!"

Maybe that's why he told me to knock on his door if I needed anything.

He was right. Even though he warned me not to drink so much, the hangover still hit me. I decided to skip school for the day, showered, brushed my teeth, and went downstairs to find something to eat.

Usually during the day, there aren't many people here. Maybe Jasper or Audrey would stop by. Anwar and Hazel rarely were here unless it was nighttime.

"Blue! Hey!" Audrey greeted me cheerfully. She was sitting in meditation on her usual sofa, putting down the TV remote as soon as she saw me. Her slender hand patted the space beside her when she saw me finish my cereal. "Come sit here."

"No school today?"

"No, but I have a part-time job in two hours. How are you feeling?" I looked over when I heard the question before she answered her own question.

"Anwar said you two were drinking together until late last night."

"Oh..." I wondered if Anwar had only said that much. "Yeah, I'm hungover. So... is Anwar gone already?"

"He's left." Audrey seemed like she wanted to say more, but ultimately just pursed her lips and watched me eat my cereal, occasionally glancing back at the TV show playing. "Oh, by the way, there's a party at a friend's house this coming Friday. It's a friend of ours. Jasper, Hazel, and Anwar will all be there. Want to come?"

"..." Actually, I'm not even old enough to legally drink alcohol. I can't get into clubs, only smaller bars that aren't as strict about ID checks like the one I went to with Gia and her friends that time.

But if it's a house party, maybe it'll be okay?

"I'm worried everyone won't have fun."

"Don't say that! Why wouldn't it be fun? Parties are meant to be fun. With Jasper and Anwar there, it’ll definitely be fun. Trust me." I actually do trust her. Even though I've never seen them both at a real party before.

Anwar seems like the type to make everyone around him feel good, and Jasper looks like the kind of troublemaker a party needs.

"Come on! Let's go together. You'll meet lots of new people!" Audrey's eyes widened. She was so enthusiastic, it was an energy I couldn't refuse, and I nodded in agreement.

"Are they friends from Parsons with Anwar?"

"Ah, no, but there are some Parsons students there too. The actual host is Jasper's friend, but he's brought us to so many parties that he's become close with Anwar and Hazel, and it spread to getting to know Anwar's Parsons friends as well."

What a social circle that's so easy to get to know and become friends with! I'd never be able to easily get close to people like that. That's why I've been stuck with the same old friends my whole life.

"So you and Jasper didn't go to Parsons?" I initially thought they were all friends from the same school.

"Nope. Jasper, that guy, he tried Fine Arts, but he got bored after a while and dropped out.

He's transferred to another school now, so he ends up going back and forth between
Brooklyn and here." I nodded dumbly. I'd never sat down and listened to people's stories like this before. I didn't know how far Brooklyn is from here, only that it's a neighborhood known for music and art; a hip art scene, something like that. It seems to fit Jasper well.

"And you?"

"I study dance, related to theater and things like that."

This time, I was the one whose eyes widened, because I never thought I'd meet someone who studied these kinds of things. "You mean, dance specifically, like it's your major?"

"Yes, at Barnard. It's, um... a women's liberal arts college, but I don't just study dance.
There's history, culture, theory, and things like that."

"Cool! What kind of dance do you usually study?" I grinned broadly. Upon closer
observation, Audrey really does seem strong. She doesn't have the slender build like Hazel; she's more muscular.

"Many types... watch." She smiled brightly, then sprang to her feet. But once she settled, the expression on her face vanished, replaced by seriousness.

Audrey began to move slowly. Every movement she made was fluid, like she had complete control over every part of her body. It was graceful, yet powerful at the same time.

I didn't know what style of dance this was. Her movements were similar to ballet, but not exactly.

"It's called contemporary," she giggled after finishing, as if she'd only shown me a brief
glimpse.

Incredibly cool.

Is there anyone uncool here? Even Audrey, who seems the most ordinary, has such a wow factor.

"And Hazel and Anwar..." Once I started learning about them, I wanted to know more about everyone. Audrey smiled broadly as she walked back and flopped down onto the sofa.

"Oh, they go to Parsons together too. Anwar studies design, and Hazel studies fashion
business."

"That's cool." I slumped down onto the sofa, realizing I'd been surrounded by quintessential New Yorkers the whole time.

"It really is. Have you seen Anwar's work? That guy is infuriating; everything he touches turns to gold." She grumbled. "But it's good that he's still studying; otherwise, he wouldn't have a place to hide when he's feeling lonely like this."

"Huh? It’s good that he’s still studying? What do you mean?" "He should have graduated already, if he'd studied normally. But he signed with a modeling agency, and work's been overwhelming, so he can only take a few courses per semester. It
looks like he'll be stuck in university for a long time if he doesn't slow down with all these fashion jobs."

"He's really famous?" I didn't need to ask; I could guess. With that many followers, he's definitely not some nobody.

"Incredibly famous. If he hadn't cut back on modeling to focus on his studies, you wouldn't even see a shadow of him right now. His mother might even be thinking about renting out his room, like Jordan's room."

"Whose mother...?" I felt momentarily lost.

"Anwar's mother. She owns this building."

"...So that's why the rent is so cheap?" Even my room is unbelievably cheap, compared to everything included – the kitchen, bathroom, bar, everything.

"Exactly. Otherwise, Jasper would've died from the rent in this area." Our conversation paused for a moment when Anwar appeared. He was carrying a lot of
things – the usual sight: books, magazines, files, and a MacBook.

He greeted me and Audrey. His beautiful eyes looked directly at me, as if checking my condition. Seeing that I seemed okay, he smiled and went into his room.

I felt restless, like I wanted to say something to him, but I couldn't figure out what. The rest of the time was spent with Audrey. I asked her random questions, getting her to answer them, and we watched TV together until it was time for her to go to work.

I tapped my index finger against itself rapidly. It felt like something was holding me back from leaving, and I knew what it was, I just didn’t know how to approach it.
Maybe I should just… thank him?

I found myself standing silently in front of his door. My heart suddenly beat faster. My hand was about to knock when he suddenly opened the door. We almost collided if Anwar hadn't stopped himself.

"Uh..."

"How are you?" He nodded slightly, and I quickly stepped aside to let him pass.

How am I doing about what?

My head felt like it was going to explode. It was like someone had hung a heavy weight inside. It was the worst hangover, and I definitely didn't want to drink that heavily again.

"I was really drunk last night... wasn't I?"

"To a certain extent," he replied with a smile, his expression clearly showing it was a gentle answer. Anwar went and flopped onto the sofa. He loosely hugged a pillow, his gaze fixed on me as I sat opposite him.

"Are you feeling better now?"

"..." The direct question made me stop and think.

No, if I'm honest, P'Phim's matter is still bothering me all the time. I try to think about other things, but it's not very successful if I'm alone.

If I have someone to talk to, like Audrey, it helps for a while.

I'm not heartbroken; I don't want to feel that way, I don't want to act like I am.

"I...fought with my girlfriend, I guess. No..." I bit my lower lip. Suddenly, his presence made me confess, even though I was subtly lying by using the term "girlfriend." "I..."
I furrowed my brows. Anwar didn't rush me or ask any further questions. He listened attentively, even though what I was revealing was hesitant and repetitive, like someone unsure of themselves.

"She's my first lover. No matter what happens, or what I learn, I just don't want it to end easily." I avoided mentioning what P'Phim did, perhaps because I didn't want to upset Anwar, since he might also be guilty of similar actions.

I started to briefly recount our story to Anwar: where we met, how P'Phim approached me, using "she" to refer to him, up to the point where our relationship started to deteriorate, the confusing coldness I experienced.

I focused only on my feelings and thoughts as usual, avoiding directly mentioning the
reasons why things were the way they were.

Anwar listened attentively without interrupting, only nodding, blinking, and occasionally furrowing his brows slightly.

"You really like her, huh?"

"Mm-hmm."

"What do you like about her? Can I ask?"

"Well, she... is kind, cool, and she's my first girlfriend."

"Just that? Because she's your first girlfriend, and she's kind and cool, it's okay that you're incompatible?"

"It's not that we're incompatible," When he said that, I started to think about whether P'Phim and I were actually compatible. Although I argued back like that, deep down I knew there was some truth to what he said. "It's just that I don't want to lose this relationship."

Anwar lowered his eyes, looking at something on the table before looking up at me again.

"This might sound intrusive, but maybe you don't like her that much. Maybe you're just afraid of relationship failure?"
No one had ever said that to me before. It was a harsh but incredibly direct statement.

Like a hammer blow to the head.

"..." I fell silent.

"Listening to you, it feels like you're not even comfortable being there, yet you stay. Why...?

Because she's your first girlfriend, you said that." After holding my gaze to make me listen, he continued with a serious expression. "It's okay if you don't want your first relationship to end easily like this. But is it really good where you stand right now?"

Again, I was speechless.

"I don't want to be the one to break up," I averted my gaze, aware that I was being stubborn, but I couldn't control my own foolish emotions and thoughts.

I wish it were easier.

"Why?"

"I don't want it to end because of me," I took a long time to think before answering.

"So, are you okay with what you're going through now? Are you happy with it?"
The question about happiness was like a hook to the gut. It stung more than any other sentence he'd uttered. It was like a lock had been released; I'd always tried to avoid asking myself that question.

My suppressed thoughts about P'Phim flooded back uncontrollably.

I dug my nails into my palm, trying to take a deep breath before shaking my head. I drew my knees up and hid my face.

The cool scent of his cologne became more pronounced. I saw Anwar's feet moving closer.

A warm touch grazed my hair. Anwar was stroking my hair, gently rubbing my shoulder.

I didn't want that touch to disappear, so I reached out and gripped the hem of his solid black t-shirt, crumpling it in my hand.

Just then, his tall frame sank down to sit beside me.

"If you want to cry, cry."

That sentence was the permission I'd been waiting for. The confusing, oppressive sadness inside me transformed into tears that flowed softly in the silence, my trembling shoulders gently caressed. In the quiet between us…

I tried to cry as quietly as possible. My mind flickered between different things happening; my hand still gripped his shirt as if afraid it would slip away.

He didn't try to comfort me or make me feel better. He didn't do anything.

Except sit there with me.

..

..

The party arrived sooner than expected. I spent several days trying to cheer myself up. Anwar comforted me for a long time that day, before disappearing from my sight until now—several days later. His unannounced disappearance made me anxious, but I wasn't in a position to do anything.

Excited, I stepped into the medium-sized house, the music booming from inside. Jasper and Hazel were chatting and greeting people at the entrance, while Audrey loosely held my arm, introducing me to people she knew. I couldn't keep up with all the names. There were so many people that I only vaguely remembered their faces. I was pulled to sit on the sofa
because I was with Jasper's group; everyone sitting there readily made way for us.

He was the center of the party, laughing loudly, cracking jokes without a care, handsome, and teasing everyone as if he'd known them for ages.

Jasper was another person I felt comfortable around. It seemed like he didn't mind anything and wouldn't care if I did something stupid...probably.

Beer started circulating, reaching my hand.
I leaned over to whisper to Audrey about how I couldn't hold my liquor.

"Don't worry! Have fun drinking!" She looked at me with her big eyes, then grinned widely, her eyes nearly disappearing.

I soon realized Audrey wasn't much different. Her fair cheeks flushed crimson almost as quickly as I started feeling dizzy.
When the hip-hop music started sounding more and more fun, I knew I was getting drunk.

I wanted some water…

"Hey, do you have any water? Sparkling water would be great," I nudged Jasper, who was flexing his muscles in imitation of someone. Everyone in the circle laughed before he turned to look at me.

"Uh, there should be some in the kitchen. Just go get it," he said. The house owner, Aiden, tossed him a straw and nodded to me while still laughing uncontrollably.

"Okay."

Hazel had disappeared; she'd ducked away when a female friend called her. I went in the direction Aiden had pointed. The house wasn't very big; I found the kitchen easily. Three or four people were in there; some were sitting on the counter chatting, others were just grabbing snacks.

I found the water I was looking for, but where were the glasses…?

"Kit’s going to be furious. I can already picture his face," a newly arrived group chattered loudly. They were all dressed up, almost entirely in black.

"Just like Anwar doesn’t care. That guy doesn’t care,"

Anwar's name mentioned with Kit's made it clear who they were talking about. I stepped aside to let one of them reach the refrigerator.

"What can Kit do? If he’s sulking, Anwar just smiles, says a few sweet words, and he’s over it. But if he’s not…"

"He just cuts contact. It’s not more than a week. Like it never happened," the same person continued, chuckling softly. "Warn your friend, hey, grab those stupid Pringles too."

"They’re both my friends. Besides, Kit’s the one who’s stubbornly clinging to Anwar. What can I say?"

I found a glass. It was hidden on the upper shelf; I only happened to see it because it was left open.

The group had left.

I sighed in relief. I felt very uncomfortable overhearing them and understanding who they were talking about.

The glass was too high up.

I frowned. It wasn't that I was short or anything. Back in Thailand, I thought I was of average height, even a little taller.

Getting annoyed, I decided to hoist myself onto the counter and stretch to reach the glass. My slight intoxication affected my balance. A tingling sensation shot up my spine and neck.

Before I could fall backward, a hand steadied me, another gripping my hips firmly.

"Be careful."

I turned to see Anwar standing silently behind me. He wore a long-sleeved brown hoodie, the silver zipper down, revealing a black v-neck t-shirt underneath and his beautiful collarbone. His long legs were visible beneath faded jeans; he must have been wearing his usual leather boots.

"Are you drunk?" He smiled, a relaxed smile that made me feel strangely awkward.

Because I'd been worrying that he might have been annoyed with me that day and wouldn't come back to the house. I'd been going over it in my head for days.

"Not yet, but almost," I frowned. Seeing Anwar effortlessly reach up and grab a glass for me, I swung my legs around to sit on the counter instead. "Just got here?"
I wanted to ask where he’d been, but something warned me against it. So I swallowed my curiosity.

"Yeah, the photoshoot ran a bit late."

"Oh…" Even though he said he was serious about his studies, he still took on modeling jobs occasionally.

"Feeling better?"

I pursed my lips. I hadn't expected him to ask that. "A little," I gave a wry smile. P'Phim still called me a few times. We didn’t talk every day.

Whenever he called, I always had this internal conflict. Anwar’s words echoed in my memory, making me want to ignore the calls, but my stubborn refusal to listen to anyone led me to answer and hurt myself each time.

"Don't cry over her anymore," Anwar said softly. His tone was sincere, just like the serious look in his eyes so close to mine.

"Why… Isn’t that normal? Crying over your girlfriend?" I chuckled, unlike the person in front of me who didn't smile back. The music from the main room was loud enough that we had to shout to hear each other, but even so, I heard Anwar clearly because we were so close.

"I wonder if he’d even care if he knew I was crying," I looked away, my gaze settling on a plant in the corner of the room.

"He?" His murmured question made me turn back to meet his eyes.

"What?"

Anwar furrowed his brows. He shook his head. "Like I said, stop being sad. Why don't you have some fun? Enjoy the party."

"What do you think we should do?" I asked, sounding like a lost person searching for a way out.

Anwar seemed surprised by my question. He was silent for a moment. "He treats you badly. You deserve better," Instead of answering my question directly, he
threw the thought out for me to conclude myself.

"Who’s better?" I laughed, looking up at the ceiling, a heavy feeling settling in my chest. "It’s not easy to find a good person, you know."

Anwar looked at me steadily. He didn't answer. Of course, it wasn't a question with an easy answer.

We were silent for almost a minute, until Anwar started to move as if to speak, but then a voice called out from behind us.

"Anwar! You’re here and didn’t even text me?" She was a well-built woman in a short, strappy dress that showed off her legs. Her light brown hair was tied up in a neat bun.

"Come here!"

She smiled cheerfully. Her flushed cheeks revealed that she was drunk, and she was
swaying slightly, making Anwar rush to steady her.

"Ashley, how much have you drunk?" he asked, his voice competing with the music. Ashley smiled sweetly, shook her head, and put her arms around his neck.

Here we go again.

I wanted to look away, but my eyes couldn't help but stay fixed on them.

Anwar looked uncomfortable when the smaller woman tiptoed up to kiss him. He glanced towards me before gently pushing Ashley away. She seemed unhappy, but perhaps because she was drunk, she leaned back against his chest, resting her forehead against his broad shoulders.

"You smell so good."

"And you smell like alcohol," Anwar said, shaking his head with a smile. He turned back to me, as if about to say something, before sighing and saying casually, "Rest until you feel better. And if you’re going to drink that much, remember to take some
hangover medication later."

"Huh, you're not going home tonight?" I omitted the unspoken 'again' from the sentence.

"Mmm," Because before answering, Anwar glanced down at Ashley, I could guess who he.was going home with. "We'll talk later."
That was our final conversation. After Anwar finished speaking, he pulled Ashley away from the kitchen. I sat there for a long time, trying to understand the unsettling mixture of frustration and emptiness that was building in my chest.