19.

P'Phim has tried contacting me many times a day – at least one LINE message or call. I've rejected them all.

Even though I haven't opened them, he seems to know I've seen his messages among the many others. There wasn't a single apology.

Just excuses and repeated pleas to talk.

The good thing is, as time passed and I had other things to do, other friends, other people to be with, what should have been a terrible time actually got better; it barely hurts anymore.

Now, seeing his name on my phone screen doesn't constrict my heart. It's just empty. No smiles, no furrowed brows, no urge to cry – nothing.

It might seem like I've moved on easily, and I'm not even sure I have completely.

But I have to thank his bad behavior over this time. It gradually eroded my feelings until the breaking point wasn't as bad as continuing. He made it easy.

The funny thing is, he hasn't shown much love for a while, but now he's acting like he wants to get back together, even having a close friend contact me. It feels like he's really backed into a corner.

Blue

I heard you're having problems with Phim?Can I talk to you? Things are really bad right now.

I'm staring at a message from P'Est that just arrived seconds ago. I never expected a day like this, him messaging me like this. P'Est is a close friend of P'Phim, from the same group. They have similar personalities, and are equally notorious for being womanizers.

I hesitated for a moment before opening it and replying with a simple,

Okay, P'. I think I'm done with P'Phim

He was silent for a while before the screen switched to an incoming call. I adjusted my
backpack, stepped aside for a group of people, and stopped in front of my house.

I don't know what he wants to talk about… Before, he had all the time in the world, but he threw it away easily, choosing to give me lame excuses instead.

It's really funny, actually.

"Hello?" It wasn't curiosity that made me answer.

It might be a feeling of wanting it to end, wanting to escape this crazy situation. I've endured so much that just blindly running away wouldn't be enough. Talking to P'Est to clear things up, and then letting him talk to his friend might be the best option.

Either way, I'm not ready to confront P'Phim right now.

"Uh, Blue, can you hear me?" a deep, husky voice replied.

"Yes, P',"

"How's it going there at school?"

"It's good, P'. Pretty much the same old thing." I wished I could skip this small talk. Even though he's a senior in my faculty, we've never really talked like this before.

And this feels incredibly awkward.

"What do you want to talk about, P'Est?"

"Uh… I heard you had a fight with Phim. Things have been strange lately."

"Yes," I replied briefly, not knowing what else to say. I even wanted to ask if he found out from P'Phim, and if P'Phim also had something to do with him messaging me.

P'Est isn't usually the type to get involved in other people's business… Is he really going to step in and meddle in my affairs like this?

"What was the fight about?"

"Don't you know, P'?" I asked back teasingly. When he fell silent, I continued, "P', you
probably know your friend well, right? Do you really think I should stay there? Do you really think I should stay?"

"Why? Is it something he's not ready to go public with?"

"It's just that my friend has only ever dated women. I want you to understand that it's not something that can be easily done."

"P'Est," I interrupted as soon as he finished, "Is that my problem, P'? And is it easier for me than it is for you to just have a drink?"

"Hey, that's not what I meant! I just wanted you to calm down and talk things through.
Running away isn't going to solve anything, right? Phim's practically been unable to eat or sleep because of this. Hey!"

"Blue," P'Est's voice was cut off, replaced by a familiar voice.

I smirked slightly, knowing this was going to happen. There was no way P'Est would call me himself.

"Don't hang up on me," he preempted, as if he knew exactly what I was going to do.
My heart pounded; a heavy, suffocating feeling pressed against my chest. But I had no intention of hanging up. Even if I'm not ready to do anything, running away like that would be too childish.

"What is it, P'Phim?"

"I want to know why you want to break up."

"Don't you know?"

"If it's about Yiwa, I already told you there's nothing really going on. Just going to eat sushi doesn't mean I'm going to date her."

"P', even now you still don't get it? It's not just Yiwa, understand? I've endured enough. Do you think I'd suddenly break up for no reason? I've heard so much, from others and from my own ears. I have to thank you for being so brave. You slept with someone else and you still have the nerve to call me and talk? Seriously?!"

"Blue!"

"I still respect you as a senior, P'. Don't destroy the respect I still have for you, please. I'm begging you." I tried to defend him, but his hesitant tone betrayed him completely.

Was he really not intentional in treating me like he didn't care what I knew?

Has he been doing that all along, not because he's confident I'll tolerate it?

"I don't want you to text me without anything important anymore... I have a new lover," I lied.

But as I lied, Anwar's face unexpectedly popped into my mind. Maybe because I've done so many things with him, but to say he's the "new lover" I'm referring to... it's really impossible.

Just... let me borrow him for an excuse.

"Blue... what did you say?" P'Phim's voice sounded shocked, and it made me smirk.

"I'm seeing someone. It's great. Holding hands, hugging, kissing without worrying about them doing that with someone else," I bit my lip, knowing how far this announcement was from the reality of the guy I met.

It's because he definitely wouldn't do that.
Without having to hide or lie like P'Phim did.

"You don't need to contact me anymore. I don't really like it," I continued lying, no different from a boy who cried wolf. After coming to America, I've probably become a better liar.

I heard P'Phim say something else, but I hung up.

I took a deep breath.

Did it feel better? No... Did it feel relieved? Not really.

Did I feel bad? Not exactly.

I just felt it was good, that it was finally over. I said anything to get him to stop contacting me. We'll see each other again soon, then he'll graduate and leave. By then, I'll just have to endure it.

I let out a long sigh before turning and walking into the white building. I could hear the chatter and the television from the second floor. When I got upstairs, I found Audrey, Jasper, and Anwar.

"Hey, Blue," Audrey smiled broadly, greeting me as soon as she heard my footsteps. "Want a drink? Anwar's made a new cocktail recipe from a friend's shop for us to try."

I smiled back, walked over, sat down, and picked up a clear glass, draining it in one gulp. I just knew I wanted something to drink right now. Or maybe many things.
Drink a lot to stop feeling the emptiness I'm currently experiencing.

"Uh..." Audrey hesitated, although the smile remained on her face. Jasper raised an
eyebrow, while Anwar just stared silently.

"Delicious, right? Ha ha," Audrey made eye contact with Jasper before lightly patting Anwar's shoulder. "Here, another one."

"Are you feeling down today or something?" Jasper nodded at me.

"A little."

"That's it! Anwar, take Blue to the gallery opening. Hazel's going too, you know."

"Huh?" Anwar paused, his hand mid-pour into the shaker. (His beautiful eyes met mine.)

"What kind of event is it?" I asked.

"It's an opening at an art gallery. It's from a senior who graduated years ago. Some of
Anwar's friends are exhibiting their work. Today is the opening day of this collection. There'll be lots of delicious cocktails, and they'll probably go on afterwards," Audrey explained enthusiastically.

"Are Audrey and Jasper going?"

"Nah. I have to help a friend with work."

"I have a lot of work to get through too. I really want to go though!" Audrey said, looking disappointed, while Jasper made a small grimace. "Anwar, take Blue. He can meet your fashion design friends. They're super cool."

Was I imagining things, or did Anwar look momentarily hesitant?

He doesn't want me to go... does he?

"It's okay, don't worry about it. I'll just grab a drink at a bar around here."

"No way! There's a cool, fun event waiting, and you're going to sit here alone and mope?"

Audrey complained.

Anwar furrowed his brows slightly before relaxing them. He shook the shaker vigorously, with strong, deliberate movements, saying nothing, answering nothing. His strong hand slammed the shaker so hard that both sides came apart. Then he poured the beautifully colored
cocktail into a new clear glass.

"Anwar, are you going to take Blue?" Jasper asked.

The tall figure moved closer and closer, stopping in front of me. He offered me the elegant glass. A look of hesitation flashed across his face before settling into an impassive expression.

"Let's go. I'll take you."

It was only a split second, and I started to wonder if I'd imagined it. But when he said that, I nodded slightly. At least going out with Anwar would probably be more fun than ending up at a bar alone, like Audrey said. I kept sipping my cocktail until some time passed, and Anwar told me to go get ready.

"I'm not sure if this is okay," I said, scratching my cheek nervously. It was a new outfit I'd chosen myself. While the style was similar to what Anwar had helped me put together in the past, it wasn't identical, and that made me a little insecure. Anwar scanned me with his eyes, raised an eyebrow, and nodded.

"You look great."

His simple praise swelled my confidence. I grinned broadly and hurried after the taller figure to his car. Anwar, as always, was impeccably dressed. While I had opted for an oversized blue shirt, cropped straight-leg slacks, and white sneakers, Anwar's style was completely different. He wore a white crew-neck t-shirt, a brown checked jacket, dark trousers, and slightly brogued leather shoes.

He looked sophisticated, like a model you'd see in fashion magazines. I, on the other hand, looked like a typical university student you could find anywhere—a coffee shop on campus or just walking down the street.

It wasn't just the clothes, I guess. It was the whole package: his demeanor, his looks, his height...

The car was silent for the first few minutes until Anwar put on some soft music. He glanced at me before pulling away. The faint, familiar scent was still there. I didn't know what cologne or aftershave he used, but it made me want to stay there forever.

"Since you've been here, have you been to any art galleries?" Anwar asked, his gaze still fixed on the road.

"Not yet. I didn't know where to go, and I haven't looked it up... Is the gallery we're going to far?"

"Upper West Side," he replied briefly. "If you want to see some art, there are plenty of galleries and museums there. If you'd like to go sometime, I can take you."

I have no idea what someone like me is supposed to think or feel when looking at art, besides whether I like it or not, which is hard to say definitively. Could there be more to it?

Back in Thailand, I went to art exhibitions a couple of times because I was strolling around Siam and had nothing better to do. My friends—Seo, Gus, and Nile —and I just walked into an art gallery to kill time. If you ask if it was beautiful, I'd quickly say yes. For someone who still draws birds as squiggles and people as stick figures, it's incredible how someone can draw something so realistically, like a photocopier, using only their hands. But that's all it was to me. I never understood anything more than that.

"What's today's exhibition about?"

"Nostalgia."

"And your friend, does he make clothes related to nostalgia?"

"Yeah, you could say that. I don't really follow his work closely, but from what I've heard, the concept is something like that. It's about concealing, hiding longing feelings beneath the clothes."

"You can do that? When designing?" My eyes widened. I became instantly interested.

There's still so much I don't understand about this world.

Anwar chuckled and nodded. "You can do all sorts of things. You come up with a concept and then interpret it before designing. Everything can be expressed as emotion. Clothes with a tight, constricting silhouette make the viewer feel uncomfortable. If you want to evoke
comfort and relaxation, you might use a looser silhouette, something like that."

"That's cool," I said, glancing out the window. Now that I had some understanding of the exhibition, I was eager to see it for myself. Maybe it would be different from just casually walking past artwork without knowing anything about it.

"Are you hungry? The event will probably only have small bites, like snacks and cocktails. If you're hungry, we can stop somewhere else to eat first."

I shook my head. "I'm not hungry yet, but if you are, we can stop and eat."

"Are you sure? Because if you're on an empty stomach and drink a lot, you'll get drunk really easily," he said with a smile.

That's the point, isn't it? The question is, do I want to drink just because I want to drink, or do I want that feeling of dizziness and disorientation from the alcohol?

"I'm not hungry," I repeated, realizing it was likely the latter. It would be better if I didn’t have to drink a lot to quickly get that feeling. I've been drinking for a long time.

Long enough to not trust those sweet cocktails that don’t seem strong, and long enough to know my limits.

When Anwar saw my insistence, he nodded and continued driving. We were quiet for a while. A new song came on. Anwar seems to like hip-hop or R&B, that kind of thing, which I'm not really familiar with. None of the people I know listen to that genre much.

Treat me like a white T-shirt

Don’t get me dirty

Love-love-love me

Keep loving me

I raised an eyebrow slightly. The melody is cool and exciting, but the lyrics are surprisingly cute. I was about to tease him about the song choice, but the next line stopped me in my tracks.

Level up with me

If you love me

My face flushed. I turned away, looking out the window. But no matter how quickly I did it, Anwar was quick enough to notice.

"Is something wrong?"

"No…nothing…you like this kind of music, right?" I turned to meet his gaze as I asked.
Anwar blinked slowly before narrowing his eyes.

"Yeah, it's what I listen to a lot. Why?" He tilted his head, silent for a moment, seemingly concentrating on the music. A sweet smile slowly spread across his lips, making me feel flustered, like he'd caught me thinking something.

"Do you like it?"

"It's…good," I replied vaguely, pretending not to understand the meaning of the song.

To stain your white t-shirt

I'll get you dirty

Hoping you'll have sex with me

Keep loving me

Anwar chuckled. He reached over and loosely took my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine slowly. The slight touch sent a quick rush through me. His cool thumb brushed against my palm.

"So, do you want to do it yet?"

"Do…do what?" I pretended not to hear the lyrics, but the next line immediately ruined my plan.

I bet you wanna come with me

I bet you wanna cum on me, oh

"Come…with me?" He drew out the words, making them even more ambiguous. I frowned, squeezing his hand tightly until he feigned a cry of "Ow!" before gently squeezing back.

"That's cheeky," I scolded, while he smiled cheerfully.

We both laughed. When I playfully pulled my hand away, Anwar grabbed it firmly. His large hand turned my hand over, enveloping it until the coolness of his skin began to transform into a warmth that spread to my chest.

I leaned my head against the window, glancing at the pedestrians and buildings that blurred past as the car sped along. His fingers continued to playfully intertwine with mine.

It wasn't anything too overt. We just moved our hands, lightly touching each other's skin.

But I couldn't deny that I wasn't bored…and I really liked what was happening.

So much so that I didn't want it to end quickly.

My unspoken wish seemed to have little effect. Soon after, the luxury car pulled into a parking spot. Several people were standing in front of a building, some heading inside the white, angular structure.

After parking, Anwar came around to my side and opened the door for me. His eyes
sparkled when I teased, "You're too attentive. Do you treat everyone this way?"

"Unless I encounter someone who doesn't like being looked after. Are you one of those?"

"Don't like being looked after...?"

"Someone who likes opening their own doors, prefers everything to be equal all the time."

He said, closing the car door as I stepped out.

"And which do you prefer?"

He nodded slightly. "For me, it's not much different. But showering excessive attention on someone who doesn't like it becomes uncomfortable."

I nodded in agreement. Personally, I’ve never overthought being treated like that. If I have to do something myself, I’ll do it. If someone opens a door for me, I just say thank you. It doesn't make me feel inferior or weak.

"But mt mother might judge me if she knew I won't taking good care of my date," he added.

I laughed at that. I’d never met Anwar’s mother and had no idea what she was like. I couldn’t imagine what she was like, but if she’s half-Thai and grew up in Thailand, she probably picked up a lot of Thai traits. Probably similar to my mother, or Seo’s mother, or Gus’s mother.

Walking up the stairs to the second floor, a medium-sized gallery came into view. The people here seemed to be art-inclined individuals with good taste. I looked around and suddenly felt a little nervous. Anwar went to the bar, got us cocktails, and handed me one. He took a sip before saying, "This is strong. Be careful."

I took a sip and narrowed my eyes as the alcohol hit my tongue. "Uh… isn’t it usually not this strong?"

"The owner of this new bar, Niwal, is the founder. He kind of hates weak cocktails. Probably mis-measured the shots," he explained.

I didn’t reply, just kept drinking my cocktail. Eventually, I got used to the taste and started to appreciate the sweetness. I watched as people came up to Anwar to greet him, and he smiled at everyone he introduced me to. Mostly art students, designers, DJs, producers, artists, or model agents.

Anwar gently touched my hip as the last person who had approached left, just as I finished my cocktail.

"Ready to look around the gallery?" he asked.

"Anwar, you’re here! Why didn’t you say anything?" A familiar voice spoke, causing me to look up. It was a man I’d met several times before.

Kit smiled slightly at the corner of his mouth when he made eye contact with Anwar. Tall and slender, Kit looked handsome in his oversized white suit and trousers, which accentuated his lean physique.

"I brought a friend along. You remember him, right?" Anwar turned to look at me, his hand retracting from my hip.

"Yes, I do. I’m glad to see you again," he smiled at me. "Jin’s been complaining about the lighting for his final project, almost got into a fight with Jeremy because of it. Shall we go find him? He’s been waiting for you."

"Let’s go, Blue," he asked me softly, his eyes holding some expression I couldn’t quite
decipher.

"Let’s go."

As soon as I finished speaking, Kit smiled sweetly, casually linked his arm through Anwar’s, and started walking, with me following behind.

It wasn’t sadness or resentment I felt.

It was… I can’t quite put my finger on it.

I furtively frowned, grabbing a cocktail from a passing server. I watched the backs of the two in front of me. They seemed to have similar physiques and mannerisms; like they belonged to the same world. I thought Kit was incredibly cool and charming.

Anwar probably thought so too.

And so it was. Even though I was standing right there, less than an arm's length away, many things made me feel like an outsider. Although Anwar kept turning to engage me in conversation, I couldn’t understand everything they were talking about, or the conversations other people joined.

Maybe tonight… wasn’t really my night.

"You’ve had a lot to drink,"

Anwar leaned in to whisper in Thai as we left the party. I followed them, stopping to listen as they spoke with the artist and others in the gallery. Kit and Anwar seemed to know everyone, while I knew no one and just sipped cocktails to kill time. Before I knew it, I’d lost count of how many drinks I’d had.

"Mmm, I had a few, and they were pretty good," I nodded, but still raised my tall glass to my lips.

Anwar didn't stop me like he usually did. He just looked at me, nodded, and followed as a man named Sheikh Niwal finished greeting the guests. We went upstairs to a large, open room with mannequins and framed artwork lining the walls. There was a large table, chairs, and comfy cream and black foam sofas.

"Have a seat," Jeremy said, turning on all the lights. Kit waited for Anwar to sit down before choosing a seat beside him, while I sat across from them, somewhat awkwardly next to someone I’d just met.

"Your work is really good. I saw Fran here looking at it earlier. You might get to show your work with her one day!"

"She exchanged business cards with me!" Jin spread his arms and shrugged, a smile slowly spreading across his face. He sat down heavily with a beer from the fridge. "I didn’t exactly broadcast my status as a die-hard fan and worshiper of her magazine. Gotta play it cool. And damn, I am so cool."

A roar of laughter erupted around the circle. Kit playfully slapped a small beer can onto Jin’s head, looking slightly annoyed.

"You’re ridiculously self-absorbed."

"Try me. You’re just as obsessed with yourself. Second only to Anwar."

Anwar licked his lips, his eyes glancing at me before a faint smile appeared, noticing my lack of reaction.

The atmosphere was relaxed, yet somewhat awkward. I blamed only my own unpredictable and volatile emotions.

"Shut up," Kit muttered, but didn’t deny the accusation, causing everyone to laugh. Even Jeremy, sitting nearby, playfully nudged him with his elbow.

"Don’t you find me attractive? I’d be honored if this year’s hottest designer showed interest in a new McQueen, wouldn't you?" Anwar purred, ignoring his companion's disgruntled expression. He seemed even more amused by Sheikh’s appreciative sounds.

"This guy seriously needs to be taken down a peg."

"Damn."

"Don’t say that…Hey, let’s celebrate finishing work with some drinks." Jin snapped his fingers, looking at the group standing by the large table. "Miss, grab the liquor from the table for us."

"Here you go, the expensive stuff." Jin spun the bottle of liquor, showing it to everyone. "As an apology from Jeremy for not checking the lighting before the show and letting his inept team make my collection look more tragic than it should have been."

The liquor was poured equally for everyone. Before anyone could take a sip, Jeremy put an empty beer bottle on the table. "Let’s play a game, like old times."

"I’m still studying. What are you talking about?"

"Come on." The owner of the bottle furrowed his brow, quickly changing his expression.

"Same as before, ‘Truth or Dare.’ I can see from the looks on many of your faces that this is going to be fun."

I sat silently, knowing how the game worked—it was similar to the ones we played in Thailand, but I wasn't very skilled, or even confident. My friends had a knack for inventing bizarre tasks, turning it into a horror game.

As we were about to start, someone ran to fetch the remaining friends. Within ten minutes, nearly ten people had gathered—great. The more people, the lower the chance the bottle would land on me.

"Alright, you’re mine this time," Jeremy pointed at Jin, before making eye contact with everyone in the circle and spinning the bottle.

The game wasn't very serious. Some people were sitting on top of each other, others only had an inch of space where the bottle could directly point at them. I tried to make myself as small as possible, creating more space for those next to me, watching the bottle spin faster and faster.

Anwar seemed relaxed, as if this were a children's game. He leaned forward, sipping his drink without waiting to be prompted.
I breathed a sigh of relief when the bottle pointed at a woman who had just joined. She smiled broadly, seeming to enjoy being asked questions more than the person asking them.

The most embarrassing thing she’d ever done…had she ever urinated in the shower? Who was her latest wet dream about? Who was the ex she cried the most about? The questions followed a similar pattern. If someone chose "Dare," they’d have to do something strange, like lick their elbow, eat snacks from the center of the table without using their hands, or
drink from the bottle in a sexy way.

I thanked God or whatever higher power there was that the last option didn't fall to me. It would be even better if the bottle could just magically skip me until the end of the game.

"Wow, our new friend." I froze, hearing a whistle and chuckles from some people.
Anwar subtly smiled, noticing the bottle pointing at me, where I sat stiff as a rock.

"Truth or Dare?" Jeremy asked sweetly.

If I had to choose between answering embarrassing questions and doing something embarrassing, answering questions seemed safer, right?

"Truth."

"Let's have our initiation question for someone who's joining this game for the first time,"

Lulu, the model, smiled broadly, raising her glass in the center of the circle as everyone
cheered, seeming to know what the question was.

"I would hate that question so much if I didn't have a date sitting here with me. Thank God,"

Sheik glanced at the ceiling, looking relieved.

What kind of question is this? I don't feel good about this.

"Okay, okay, let’s have that question!" Teddy, who had been asked a question last round, had the duty to ask me next. She looked at me. "In this group, being the coolest or most attractive is a highly contested position. The question is: if you could only choose one
person sitting here—the most charismatic, coolest, or whoever—to have sex with, who would you choose?"

This is incredibly embarrassing. I don't know whether getting asked about sex or this question is more embarrassing.
My eyes widened. I glanced at everyone who was clapping approvingly, feeling utterly lost. I didn't know anyone except their names and faces; I'd only met them a few hours ago.

"You can use my name. Because I’m cooler than anyone here," Jin laughed loudly, before another man who was sitting behind him coughed softly.

"I’m sitting here too, thanks for remembering."

"Don’t be so serious," Jin brushed the other man's hand away but kept his arm around the other's waist, still smiling.

Ah... even if he offered himself up like that, I wouldn't dare choose Jin. With the person who seems special to him sitting so close.
I met Anwar's gaze. He chose to raise his glass to his lips, offering no comment. Only his beautiful, alluring eyes met mine. Something about it made me feel he was in a good mood. And waiting for my answer.
Who else could I choose with a question like this? Even if Kit was unhappy, at least I could say it was because he was my only friend in the group. It's better than choosing someone else without knowing if their partner is sitting in the circle.

"I choose..." I gulped, feeling like I was drowning as I was about to answer.

"Anwar."

"Woo!"

"I knew it!"

"Cheating, choosing your own friend!" A mix of whistles and applause came from several people. Some grumbled softly, though their faces were smiling.

Anwar raised an eyebrow, looking as though he himself was surprised by the answer. In the blink of an eye, as everyone stopped staring, the corners of his mouth curled into a small, satisfied smile. After catching my eye, the game continued for several more rounds. I excused myself and went out to the balcony for a break, reaching into my pocket to pull out a
pack of cigarettes.

I tried buying cigarettes myself out of curiosity to see what different flavors there were. After randomly picking one and trying it, I discovered I didn't like it. It wasn't as good as Anwar's cigarettes, but still better than some. Maybe I prefer menthol cigarettes.

"Need a light?" A life-saving voice called out from behind me, just as I was patting myself down looking for my lighter.

"Thank you."

Turning around, I made eye contact with Kit. He nodded slightly, lighting his own cigarette before extending the lighter to me. I didn't know why we were standing here together, just the two of us, but Kit felt intense to be around. Normally, with Anwar around, it wasn't a problem, because he didn't pay me any attention or talk to me.

Kit raised a hand to lightly adjust his hair before leaning against the balcony railing. He glanced at me. "Your name's Blue, right?"

"Yes."

He nodded, looking away from me towards the outside. His beautiful eyebrows furrowed.

"You know Anwar because you're sharing a house with him, right?"

"Yes."

"That's nice." He gave a faint smile, contrasting sharply with his next question, which stopped me instantly. "What happened between you and him?"

"What?"

"Anwar... did you have sex with him?" This time, he turned back to look directly into my eyes.

His beautiful face was impassive. The atmosphere and the question left me breathless. It was a thousand times more suffocating than our previous silence.

"No," I replied shortly.

Kit held my gaze for several more seconds before a smile escaped him, and he looked down at the cigarette in his hand. "Sorry for asking such stupid questions. Heh heh. You're his friend, you know what he's like, right?"

Kit likes Anwar a lot. This was the first time I clearly realised it.

Even with his strong appearance and aloof, indifferent demeanor, Kit just now seemed on the verge of a breakdown. That emotion quickly faded, however, when I denied it.

He likes Anwar... a lot.

I like Anwar too. Look at him. But it’s incomparable. Because right now, as I’m looking at Kit, I’m praying I don’t divide my affection for Anwar equally with the amount Kit feels.

Because otherwise, it would be incredibly sad.

"Did you… dump him?" I wasn't sure about asking that, but in the end, I blurted it out.

Kit grimaced, then smiled, almost like a snarl. "I wish I could control it better. Everything."

The conversation ended there. I didn't know what to say next, just as Kit fell silent. He was lost in his own thoughts, occasionally glancing at me and smiling.

When I finished my cigarette, I excused myself and went back to the table. Kit followed about ten minutes later, just as a new game began.

It was a game where you placed a cigarette pack on the edge of the table and flicked it to make it flip over. If it landed on the table in its original position, you got three points. If it flipped only halfway, you got two points. If anyone made the pack fall off or the front face landed on the table, they had to drink according to the accumulated points of everyone else.

It was clearly a game designed to get people drunk, and everyone seemed to have played it so many times, it was my bad luck to be the newbie.

Thwack…

The cigarette pack lay face down on the table, showing the failure I’d created with my own hands.

Laughter erupted from everyone. Jeremy started pouring drinks, while my face fell.

"Ten points. Five shots, or ten seconds of straight liquor."

"Go on, go on!" I swallowed, listening to the cheers around me, staring at the shot of straight liquor offered to me.

"You don't have to drink if you don't want to," Anwar, who was sitting with his chin resting on his hand, murmured, before being interrupted by another woman in the group.

"No way. That's the rule. If you lose this game, you drink."

"Yeah, someone's gotta take responsibility."
Anwar raised an eyebrow slightly, glancing at the speaker before turning back to meet my eyes. "Five shots?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, five shots."

Anwar nodded, grabbed the shot glasses lined up on the table, and downed four quickly, before leaning over and taking the glass I was holding to drink the final shot.

Clink!

The empty shot glass slammed onto the table amidst everyone's surprised faces, until someone started teasing.

"What's this? Just because he chose you from the last game doesn't mean you need to take care of him already!"

Anwar chuckled, shaking his head and making an excuse. "He's a lightweight."

It wasn't an excuse that helped the situation at all; it only made everyone tease more. I
pursed my lips, feeling embarrassed, and lowered my head to hide my expression and my smile as everyone laughed.

"We don’t mind if you get drunk instead," Jeremy grinned, placing a cigarette pack in front of me to start the round. "Even if you mess this up, there are no points to drink for."

I laughed nervously, extended my hand, timed it, and flicked the pack, making it jump.

"Two points!"

The announcement rang out, making me smile with joy. I glanced up and met Anwar's gaze; he smiled back, raising his glass in a celebratory toast.

As we played, it actually started getting more fun.

I went from playing badly to getting the hang of it. The alcohol helped loosen things up too.

Anwar generously drank for me when the score was high, and let me drink myself when it was only one to three points.

Before I knew it, my head felt heavy, as if someone had weighted it down with a hammer. A dull, drunken feeling enveloped my body and senses, but it wasn't enough to make me pass out like some others – like Anwar.

The tall figure had been trying to leave for a while after we’d exceeded our drinking limits, but everyone kept pulling him back. He was responsible for both his own and my score, while many others had given up. Jin and Jeremy insisted Anwar and I stay until now.

I raised both hands to touch my flushed cheeks, staring at Anwar slumped against the sofa on the opposite side. Kit, sitting next to him, looked over with a concerned expression, gently stroking Anwar's hair as if comforting him. After a while, Anwar excused himself to wash his face.

It was the first time I'd seen Anwar drink so much, his face so red and his expression so
intense.

"You're not drunk, are you?" Kit asked, turning to me as people started to leave, until only the two of us remained at the table. The smile I used to get when we smoked together was completely gone. Kit's face had turned serious from the moment Anwar started drinking many shots for me. His sharp eyes darted between us, clearly showing his irritation, though he didn't say anything throughout the game.

"Not drunk, not drunk."

"Did Anwar tell you he has a date with me tonight? I mean, he's sleeping over."

"No, he didn't say anything."

"He's going to stay at my place, it's not far from here. Anyway, let Anwar stay here tonight... You can go back alone, right? At this time, a taxi ride back shouldn't take long." Kit checked his phone for the time.

Why do I feel like I'm being chased away?

No... anyway, if they really have plans, I'd have to go back alone anyway.

"Okay, then..." I stood up, as did Kit.

"I'll tell Anwar myself." He smiled.

That statement immediately stopped me from telling Anwar I was leaving earlier.

"Then I'll go now," I mumbled. He watched me until I reached the stairs, then followed
Anwar into the bathroom.

Was I really being chased away just now?

I frowned. A slight irritation mixed with a feeling of emptiness.

What is this feeling...? It's like I want to drink more, I don't want to just end the night like this and go back to my room to shower and sleep.

Just as I was thinking about where to go next, my phone vibrated gently with an incoming message.

Look at this Blue! Hilarious!

Sending video.

I looked down at the message and the sender's name, then at my phone battery, which was critically low and flashing red. I made up my mind in seconds and called him.

The call connected quickly.

"Hello?"

"Hello Chen, are you free now?"