15.

P'Phim disappeared. He hasn't read my messages, replied, or returned my calls. It's been four days since I've tried to contact him. The only thing I've seen is Yiwa's story—pictures and videos of them together—and their Facebook status, which I didn't see myself, but Phat sent me screenshots.

It's probably over, right?

It feels like a silent breakup, doesn't it? Disappearing like this, and then openly posting pictures and stories with someone else.

Right now, I'm not even sure if what we had was a real relationship, or just a way for him to pass the time and have some fun.

I used to think about what it would be like if he broke up with me. I thought he'd handle it better than this. At least, as senior-junior from the same faculty, this feels like a huge slap in the face. This is a brutal rejection. I still can't believe it.

My friends in the group have messaged me several times, and I've replied each time that I'm okay.

Okay, to a point. It's a heavy, suffocating feeling, hard to bear, but it hasn't made me cry yet.

"Hey Blue, so, hand it over," Max nudged me lightly, gesturing vaguely towards something I was holding between my fingertips. He offered it to me the moment I responded, before he even finished his sentence I took a drag and handed it over.

"Here," I nodded, quickly passing it to him. I didn't think I'd get addicted to that sort of thing.

Anwar gave a small smile. He never pressured me to drink or smoke, but at the same time, he never forbade it. He just occasionally offered it, letting me make my own decision.

Today, we're hanging out at Rome's place. Gia is here too. It seems their relationship is getting serious; they've been going on dates, watching movies, and going out together
frequently.

We're all sitting on the sofa. Anwar's on the floor, leaning against the sofa, with Alice next to him, lounging and playing on her phone. Gia didn't invite me; Anwar thought I might want to hang out with friends other than Jasper and Audrey for a change.

"That's good, huh? Not ordinary at all," Alice showed Anwar her phone, eliciting a nod from him. She then showed it to everyone sitting opposite. It was a picture of Anwar modeling.

"He posted it on his story already. They'll probably release the full photoshoot soon, right?"

"Probably."

"Jordan's not coming back to audition next year, huh? He completely disappeared," Max remarked, extending his legs to rest them on Rome's, who lifted his head to listen.

"Give that back," Cole pointed to something Max was holding.

They continued chatting casually, just as the television channels kept changing with each press of the remote. It was a relaxed atmosphere—like we were just lounging together, killing time. It felt similar to what I used to do with my friends in Thailand.
I pursed my lips, staring at the message I was typing to P'Phim Maybe it's because I have so many friends here, maybe it's the relaxed atmosphere, but I feel so at ease that doing something like this seems easier than I thought.

Whatever. We're basically already broken up anyway.

P'Phim,

Why aren't you answering me?

I glanced up at Anwar, who was looking at something on Alice's phone. Seeming to notice me, he looked up, met my gaze, and gave a small smile.

'I've decided. I'm breaking up with you, P'Phim.'

I've truly made up my mind. I can't take it back, and I can't get back the feelings I've lost — almost everything.

Maybe this is for the best.

Look at me now. I'm surrounded by amazing people, people with good vibes, who make me happy and comfortable. I'm in New York, a place full of cool things, so many places to explore, so much to do.

'This really is for the best. Thank you for everything. Please take care of yourself from now on.'

I froze. My heart pounded as the word "Read" appeared rapidly. Just by typing that, he responded in less than three seconds, yet he ignored all my texts and calls since yesterday.

He's ignoring them even though he's online and even appeared in Yiwa's story.

I jumped up when P'Phim called, hurrying downstairs to answer. Every step felt heavy, my mind racing with what I should say and how the conversation would go.

"Hello," I mumbled, leaning against the white wall outside the building.

"Why did you text like that?" P'Phim countered, not giving
me a chance to speak. "What did you mean?"
"I..." I frowned, not expecting this kind of response. I pretended not to understand. "You shouldn't have asked me like that."

"What do you mean, Blue?"

I took a deep breath. The good mood I'd felt a moment ago completely vanished, replaced by a heavy feeling of displeasure.

"I should be asking you what it means. Yiwa's story, the photo Yiwa posted."

He fell silent, so I continued.

"Hey, I'm not blind. I might have been ignoring it, but seeing it so clearly...what am I supposed to do?"

"I think you're misunderstanding."

"Misunderstanding what? If it's not what I think, then what is it?" I bit my lower lip, watching two women walk past as I tried to regain control of my emotions.

"Yiwa is just my junior."

"Please, P'Phim. She's just a junior, and so am I, right? When you talk to others," I'd heard it so many times, I retorted confidently.

I feel so suffocated. It's like something heavy is weighing down my chest.

"Listen first," he argued firmly. I took a deep breath and fell silent, letting him explain.
"There's really nothing going on. Yiwa's just a close junior. You know I'm close to many
juniors because I'm the group leader. "

"But being a group leader doesn't require a month-long celebration involving shoulder-to-shoulder cuddling after a sushi dinner, does it? And you don't have to hold hands for a photo, do you?"

"Blue, you're being unreasonable. If you're not going to listen, then…" P'Phim voice became sharper. "What did you mean by that text? Why jump to conclusions without asking, and then react like that?"

"Hey, P'Phim, I'm not stupid. There's more to it than just being a junior. What I saw, what everyone in the faculty saw, wasn't just a junior. And where's the senior-junior relationship in this whole thing?" My voice rose, my frustration growing as he made me seem like I was in the wrong, overreacting. He was seriously underestimating my patience.

"Where did you hear that? Who told you this?"

"Is that even important?"

"I think you're not thinking straight right now, Blue. Go take a break, do something, and we can talk when you're calmer."

"I'm as calm as I'll ever be," I said flatly, the harshness clear in my tone. I wasn't in the mood for sweet talk. "And Yiwa isn't the only thing I know about."

"Blue, don't listen to others, especially your friends. You can tell they don't like me."

"Don't talk about my friends like that. Take a look at yourself first."

"So what do you want me to do, Blue? Do you want me to lock myself in a room, cut myself off from society, and never talk to any younger students or friends? Do you want me to be locked up with you all the time? Would that satisfy you?"

"Don't be sarcastic."

"Then stop talking to me like that, and stop picking a fight. It's annoying."

-- I was completely stunned, like I'd been punched hard in the gut. My ears were ringing. A strong gust of wind hit me, along with the feeling of wetness on my cheeks.

It wasn't tears.

I looked up at the creamy sky. Fine raindrops were falling on my face. I looked around, trying to find somewhere to shelter.

"Damn it, if I'd known this call would be pointless, I wouldn't have called in the first place."

The harsh words kept coming. The more silent I was, the angrier he became.

"I'll call you again tomorrow. Calm down and then we can talk properly," he said, his voice serious, laced with pressure in every syllable. "And if we still can't communicate, I think wenneed some time apart."

"Are you threatening me, P'Phim?" I bit my lip hard, stopping my search for shelter and looking down at my feet. The wetness was spreading.

My chest felt tight and constricted, making it hard to breathe.

Everything around me felt cold and bleak; I didn't know what to do.

"Why use the word 'apart'? Does this mean we've broken up? Everything we've been
through, everything we've shared… now I'm not even sure it was real." I spoke honestly, whatever came to mind. It sounded harsh, and I hoped it would hurt him a little, because it hurt me.

"Break up? What did you just say, Blue? Break up?" His deep voice rose in disbelief.
The rain started to come down harder, striking my cheeks forcefully until I felt numb.

"P'Phim, it's clear enough already. You've never seen me as a boyfriend." All his actions had shown that; it hadn't been that way for a long time.

"Blue, you don't have to talk or act like you know everything for me."

"I don't want to hear things like this anymore. I don't want to feel sad anymore."

"Shut up..."

"So I don't have to feel sad when I see you celebrating one month or one year with someone else."

"Shut up!" He shouted loudly, making me flinch. I accidentally held my breath for a moment.

"This is so annoying, that's why I don't want to talk."

A faint curse slipped into my ears. I stood frozen in place, watching people hurriedly walk by under their umbrellas.

The rain soaked me and chilled me to the bone.

What I once thought was the worst point in our relationship was now... worse than I ever imagined.

"I can't endure this anymore. I don't want to get hurt anymore..." I spoke softly, my bitterness rising. My eyes squinted shut, and hot tears rolled down my cheeks.

I had never realized that rain could feel this warm.

I had done well, done my best to protect myself in that final moment.

All the discomfort, unease, and the confining little boxes forcing me to endure—it all ends today.

"I'm not breaking up."

"And what about Yiwa?" I bit my lip as a sob caught in my throat. I heard P'Phim chuckle softly.

"So you're not going to stop talking about Yiwa, huh? Fine. Good...if you want me to be something more to Yiwa, I'll show you. But remember, I'm the only one who can say we're breaking up, and I'm not doing that now."

"I don't need your permission to leave this."

That sentence seemed to anger P'Phim even more. His voice was cold and low, almost
threatening. A curt sentence was all he offered before he hung up.

"Just try it."

Damn...

His excuses made no sense at all, and right now, I didn't even care what he said anymore.

Want to continue this relationship? Then he can stay in this shitty relationship alone.
He didn't even respond about his Facebook relationship status, instead implying I was
imagining things and had been misled. It's ridiculously funny.

He disappeared for days, didn't apologize, didn't answer calls, didn't read messages, and posted statuses with other people. Where's the "still together" part of that? And what's wrong if I'm backing out?
I just looked at the rain hitting the ground. My eyebrows furrowed in pain. My breath felt stolen, my chest empty, my soul utterly void.

Empty...shit.

My mind's a blank.

It really hasn't gotten any better. I used to think it would, but he never tried to make it so.

Ridiculously funny.

Never publicly acknowledged each other, never went anywhere together. Just close junior in front of others.

Were we really ever a couple? I don't know anymore.

"Getting soaked like that, you'll get sick," a voice from behind said, pulling my attention.

Chen glanced at me before nodding towards the phone in my hand. "Come inside?"

"..."

"Come on, let's go." He gently pulled my arm, urging me to run after him. His other hand pushed open the building's door. Chen was carrying a bunch of stuff; Coke and snacks in a bag. I guess he'd just come back from the supermarket. It might have been obvious on my face, or maybe it was the atmosphere.

Chen didn't ask anything. He stood quietly, a small distance away, and offered a hand.

"Cold?"

I shook my head.

"Chen, you go upstairs first."

"You want to be alone?" he asked calmly. "You're really soaked. Why don't you go upstairs and change? Or I can bring you something to change in the downstairs bathroom."

"No, no, I'll just go get my things and leave. Thank you very much."

"At least change into something dry. Just a t-shirt or a long-sleeved shirt. It's okay. Getting sick here isn't fun."

Chen looked at me again, nodded, and turned to lead the way upstairs. As the door opened, everyone looked at us.

"Took you long enough."

"Got caught in the rain, but it wasn't too heavy. I ran through it."

"Why are you so wet, Blue?" Alice asked, but I just smiled. My head was spinning, trying to find a believable and not-too-stupid answer.

"The downstairs door was stuck again. You have to shake it to open it. Didn't anyone tell Blue?" Chen explained for me. Seeing everyone's understanding expressions, he smiled, lightly touched my upper arm, and guided me towards his room. "Go change first."

"Chen," Anwar stepped closer to me. "It's okay, I have a shirt. I can let you change in the car."

"But.."

"It's fine. I don't know when he'll see you again to return it anyway," he insisted, looking between Chen and me. "Are you ready to go?"

As if reading my mind.

I nodded. "Thank you, Chen, but I'll change in the car."

It was true, as Anwar said. I don't come here often. If I borrowed something, returning it quickly would mean relying on Gia only. Borrowing from Anwar, whom I see every day, was definitely more convenient.

"Okay."

After Chen replied, I said goodbye to everyone again before leading the way out of the room.

Anwar and I were silent all the way downstairs to the luxury car. Anwar gradually lowered the music until only a soft hum remained. He went to open the back of the car and took out a soft, long-sleeved shirt for me to change into.

I felt his gaze, but that was all. Anwar sat silently, just like me.

"Are you okay?" he asked when the car stopped at a red light.

"Not really."

"Is there anything you want… anything you want me to do?"

I lightly bit my lower lip. I felt completely overwhelmed, but one thing I'd learned over the past few minutes was that I felt more comfortable in this small space than I would going home and hiding in my room alone.

"Tell me," Anwar turned to meet my eyes, seeing my silence and hesitation.

"Can you just keep driving? Anywhere."
Anwar nodded slightly in response. He simply changed the route. The car moved slowly and without haste. I leaned my head against the window.

He seemed worried.

Even though he didn't say or ask anything, even about the reason I was like this. I guess he probably already knew.

"I… just talked to him," I began amidst the silence. "It’s… probably over."

"You broke up with him?"

I pursed my lips, reflecting on my actions. Was it a breakup? Or was it just giving up on the relationship we were in?

"He said he wouldn't break up," I chuckled sadly, glancing out the car window. The buildings outside blurred into a changing panorama, just like the fleeting streetlights that streamed in and out of view. "It's funny, he wouldn't break up."

"And what do you think?"

"I don't even know if our relationship was real. It felt like a fantasy I created in my head. The truth is, he was with someone else the whole time. What am I thinking? I don’t even know what I’m thinking right now. I just don't want to live like this anymore. I don't want to know anything about him anymore. I don't want to feel anything anymore."

"To break up with someone, you don't need their agreement. If you've had enough, it's over. He has no choice but to accept it." It sounded authoritative and superior, like a judge. That wasn't me at all. I'd never been in that position until now.

"Have you ever… been the one to break up with someone?"

Anwar blinked, seemingly surprised by the question. "Never."

That didn't surprise me.

"And have you ever been broken up with?"

"No."

That wasn't surprising either. Who would want to break up with a guy like him? With his looks, the way he treats people…no one.

Anwar was in a superior position in the relationship, and I wasn't. I wondered what it would feel like if I were in Anwar's position.

He drove aimlessly, just to buy me a little bit of peace of mind, before Anwar drove me home when my expression started to improve.

"Anwar," I called out as he paused before we parted ways. "Want to grab a drink? Just to have a drink with a friend."

"Want a drink?" Anwar smiled faintly, accepting the invitation. He circled the shelves, stopping at the bar on the third floor. The third floor was deserted; no sign of Jasper in the bedroom. The second floor was empty, too. No one was here except me and the person in front of me.

Anwar ushered me into the bedroom, telling me to shower and wash the rain from my hair and body. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll wait here," he said, taking a bottle of liquor from the shelf and pouring himself a drink.

Time slipped away quickly. I tried to avoid being alone and silent. The swirling thoughts in my head were irritating, the last thing I needed right now.

"Anything you'd like to drink?"

"Anything. I just want to drink tonight, to have a final, really sad night," I grinned, sitting on a tall bar stool next to Anwar. "I wonder why heartbroken people drink. How does it help?"

"Actually, it doesn't help much," Anwar laughed, glancing down at the small amount of liquor left in his glass. "It’s all in your head. Alcohol doesn't make anything disappear."

"But there's that saying, 'Drink to forget'," I countered. Anwar shrugged lightly.

"You'd probably have to drink until you black out for that to happen."

"Okay…"

"You really want to drink, huh?" Anwar raised an eyebrow slightly, swirling and wiping his glass. "Just want the alcohol, or do you want us to sit here together?"

Sometimes I wondered if Anwar had some kind of mind-reading ability. Yes, the alcohol was part of it, but the reason I was keeping him here was because I wanted to be with him a little longer. And it seemed he knew exactly what I was doing.

"Both," I readily admitted, then gazed at him, a small smile playing on his perfectly shaped lips.

He seemed pleased.

"Then I'll stay. And about the drinking, like I said, it doesn't really help that much," he
paused, mixing a drink. He then went to the cabinet and took out a large carton of milk,
pouring some into another glass.

"Choose what you want to drink, and I'll have the other," I hesitated, looking at the glass of liquor and the glass of milk placed before me simultaneously. Was he teasing me? But objecting didn't seem very Anwar-like, so he did this instead.

I considered it for a moment. Since it was my last night, a night I wanted to completely fall apart, getting blackout drunk didn't sound so bad. Normally, I’d be embarrassed, and probably choose the milk, following Anwar's lead.

I looked up at him, before picking up the glass of liquor.

Anwar didn't respond. He nodded slightly, and slowly began to sip his milk.

It was a strangely endearing image: a cool, charming man with a glass of cold milk, while I held an amber drink ready to knock me out in a few glasses.

"I think it's over," I began, after a long silence. Anwar's question had prompted me to consider things. As Anwar said, I didn't need his validation or agreement to end the relationship. The more we talked about it, the less guilty I felt about ending it. "Even if we tried to stay together, I don't see how it could get better."

It was all over—the other people he was seeing, Yiwa, and all the bad feelings I'd been harboring. Once it ended, I felt a huge sense of relief. A hollow feeling, like a loss, but nothing compared to the imagined discomfort of continuing, or constantly agonizing over his inconsiderate actions.

This is the best way.

"I feel good," I chuckled softly, looking up to smile at him.

"Good job," His praise widened my smile. Anwar stared at me intently, before his warm hand moved to gently kiss my hair. "Smile more often from now on."

"Why...because it's cute?" When I teased him with his own words, Anwar laughed. He slightly blushed, and with his other hand, he poured me another drink as my glass emptied.

"Because it's cute. Yes."

"Thank you for being with me through so much," I looked down at my glass.

"You're welcome."

"Are you always this kind?" This time Anwar didn't answer, but just smiled slyly and looked away. I didn't press him further.

We just sat side-by-side, drinking, silently refilling our glasses as they emptied.

It was a comfortable silence, without conversation, comfort, or questioning. Perhaps it was Anwar's presence; he had a knack for calming those around him. I was more open with Anwar, sharing my feelings with him more than I did with anyone else in my friend group. I felt a deep-seated confidence that he wouldn't judge me.

As time passed, my worries about P'Phim faded from my mind. I laughed and smiled at Anwar's stories. We started talking about various things, and I realized something else: I enjoyed listening to Anwar, especially when he talked about himself.

"Which country would you like to go back to?" Anwar raised an eyebrow at my question.

We'd been talking about countries we'd visited or wanted to visit for the past twenty minutes or so.

"Maybe France."

"Why France?"

"Because I went when I was a kid with my mom, but it wasn't fun, so I want to go back as an adult. Go without work," he added, "It was the busiest time during fashion week."
I nodded, then slightly frowned, recalling my own meager memories of France. "I've been to Paris too. I was really young. I went with my mom as well, but I don't remember much."

"How young?"

"Probably early elementary school, or maybe even younger. I don't really know," I tried to dredge up those old memories, but I genuinely couldn't recall.

My mother used to take me on trips abroad often. We went to many places, but Paris was the only trip my father didn't come on because my mother had made plans with a close friend.

Oh, yes, my mother's close friend.

"But I remember my mother's close friend, and her son was there too." I can't remember his name or what he looked like. All I remember is that he was tall and… kind of intimidating.

"And did you have fun? Having another kid on the trip should have been nice, right?" he asked with a smile.

My story appeared to be that captivating because ever since we started talking about Paris, he hasn't looked away from me.

Maybe he just likes hearing about other people's childhoods sometimes.

"I don't really remember, except that I was really scared of him at first. I wasn't very good at English back then, and I was too shy to talk to him, so we didn't really talk or play much."

"Why were you scared?" Anwar propped his chin on his hands. He'd stopped drinking his milk, probably full. His other hand gently swirled the glass of liquor in his hand in a relaxed manner.

I myself was drinking enough that everything felt more fluid.

"I was scared he wouldn't understand me and would punch me."

Anwar's eyes widened. He looked stunned by my answer before shaking his head slightly.

"So he must have been really scary. Do you think you'd still be scared if you met him now?"

"No. Actually, I was probably just being overly cautious," I smiled slightly. "I'm not scared anymore. It's a shame, though. I almost had a P as a friend. He might have grown up to be very handsome."

"And why would that matter?" Anwar countered.

I hesitated, momentarily speechless.

It was a casual remark, after all. What if he was handsome? I didn't even remember his name. By now, he probably had a good life somewhere in the world. I remembered my mother's friend was from America, but I didn't know which state.

"Would you have hit on him?" The question made me immediately smile to cover my
embarrassment.

"Hit on him? He might not be gay. And I wouldn't do that anyway. Besides, he might not even be handsome," I countered.

Anwar's expression hinted at something. He tilted his head slightly and gave a small smile at the corner of his mouth. "So, would you call me handsome?"

"Do you really have the nerve to ask that question with that face?" That was the first thing that came to mind before I turned away, feeling increasingly embarrassed. Anwar was very charming and cool. I was used to him being around, but that didn't mean I could stare at him for long without feeling something.

"Aren't you going to answer?" Anwar teased, resting his face on his arms on the bar, his gaze fixed on me. "Look at me."
Once again, I couldn't refuse him.

My eyes met his unexpectedly, then were held captive by those beautiful brown eyes. Long lashes fluttered gently against his eyelids. His forehead, prominent nose, strong jawline, and lips...

How could he not be handsome?

"Handsome...very handsome," So handsome it's unreal.

I readily admitted it. My insides churned again under his intense gaze.

"What are you thinking?" I couldn't read his expression, especially his eyes. But I knew my heart was pounding, especially with him staring at me unblinking like that. "What do you want?"

"What do I want?" Anwar murmured, lifting his head from his arms so his eyes were level with mine. "A kiss."

My mind went blank at his simple, direct answer.

Anwar chuckled. He didn't move closer or make any move to kiss me.

"But you're drunk. Too drunk. So we'll forget about what I want for now."

It was true. I'd had quite a few drinks, and my vision was starting to blur.

What did I appreciate about Anwar? He wouldn't do anything if the other person wasn't fully conscious or didn't consent. He made people feel comfortable, he made me comfortable.

Even the bad things that happened today with P'Phim couldn't hurt me. The entire time we were sitting together, he made me forget all those negative feelings for a while, and that's exactly what I needed right now.

And those two kisses that had happened...

I liked them. I couldn't deny that I wanted them to happen again and again.

"What if I'm the one who can't forget?" I murmured, the intense feeling of those kisses flooding back into my memory. It was so vivid, I unconsciously leaned closer. "What if I'm the one who wants to do it?"
Anwar remained silent, didn't pull away. Only his shining eyes watched my actions, without any attempt to stop me.

"You said you'd teach me everything if I wanted. Now, can you teach me?" Once I said it, I was too intoxicated to stop myself.
I leaned forward until my forehead touched his strong shoulder. Anwar loosely wrapped his arm around me to prevent me from falling, as my final request escaped my lips.

"But before you teach me... could you make me forget about him one more time?" A warm hand reached up to the back of my neck; he gently cradled it.

"Look up," his deep, soft voice gave a short command. And the moment I did, my eyes met his. Anwar stared as if testing my resolve before his handsome face slowly moved closer.

Warm lips pressed against mine, erasing my last remaining thoughts.

When he parted his lips and let his tongue playfully explore, I didn't just forget about P'Phim… nothing was left in my mind.

Everything turned white.

Only my wildly beating heart remained, and a desperate yearning, like an addiction. I kissed him, he kissed me… both happening alternately, endlessly.

"Looks like I don't need to teach you how to kiss anymore," he murmured softly as he pulled away. His warm breath mingled with mine.

It sounded like a compliment, and I smiled back.

Warmth spread across my cheeks and face. I felt like I wanted to collapse right there, but Anwar cupped my face in both hands before I could.

I rested my hands on his strong thighs, feeling the fabric of his pants instead of trying to steady myself. Anwar pressed a kiss to my cheek, moving lower and lower until he reached the sensitive skin of my throat. He nibbled gently, causing goosebumps to rise, before returning his lips to mine, playfully tracing them.

His warm tongue lightly licked my lower lip.

"When you sober up, make sure you can kiss like this."