4.

Anwar and Hazel disappeared. They haven't been seen for days.

Jasper, too, has become increasingly harder to find. Audrey visits me almost every evening, for the usual reason: she's lonely and doesn't want to go back to her room. She even brings mountains of snacks, Coke, and work, setting up shop on the sofa.

It's been over ten days since I left Thailand, and P'Phim still doesn't seem to have noticed my absence or contacted me. Or maybe he knows, but simply doesn't think it's necessary to talk.

I don't know which hurts more: his lack of concern, or a knowing indifference.

I often question myself.

If I met a cool or beautiful senior woman who made my heart race instead of P'Phim… would I still like her? Do I like him because of his personality, his overall presence, regardless of gender? Or am I just gay?

If I were dating a woman, we could probably have gone public, holding hands in front of everyone, calling each other, meeting up as a real couple without pretending.

I probably wouldn’t have to worry about these things.

Lately, that question keeps swirling around in my head, unanswered.

It might be because my heart starts racing for Anwar instead of Hazel or Audrey.

I stare at my last chat with P'Phim. He said he couldn't come see me; he had to work on a group project with his friends. I sent a hug sticker, and he replied with a hug sticker.

That’s it.

Even though it was a hug sticker, it felt strangely cold and distant.

I sigh. It's one in the morning. I know I have classes tomorrow, but I'm still wide awake.

And hungry.

I roll off the bed. The silence on the third floor means only two things: Jasper either hasn't gone to sleep yet, or he's not home. He usually watches movies loudly.

The second floor is equally quiet, with only a few dim lights on to illuminate the hallway. I head straight for the refrigerator. If I'd known I'd be this hungry, I should have stocked up on some food.

My meager hope is dashed. The refrigerator holds only an army of sparkling water, two Kit Kats with Jasper's name on them, and a half-eaten apple.

Damn it.

I sink to the floor, crouching. My hunger is intense. I weigh my options: stealing a Kit Kat and replacing it in the morning, or eating the half-rotten, ownerless apple.

A clattering sound behind me made me turn. Though it was dark, I could guess it was Anwar – tall, broad-shouldered, unlike Jasper, who was tall but thin.

"Oh..." He hesitated, flinching back and letting out a gasp when our eyes met.
Then, the lights flickered on.

Anwar stood motionless, less than a meter away. His handsome face held a faint weariness.

Have I ever mentioned that Anwar has incredible style? Whatever he wears seems to suit him perfectly.

Just a black The Smiths t-shirt, ripped skinny jeans, a black long-sleeved cardigan, and pointed boots – he looked effortlessly cool.

I never thought a guy could pull off a cardigan and look so stylish, so far removed from a "muji" (minimalist) look.

"Just got back?" I said, breaking the silence.
Anwar nodded, placing a stack of thick books from his arms onto the bar. They were fashion books.

"Been working, huh?"

"Yeah. What are you doing down here at this hour?" He took off his cardigan and
disappeared into the bathroom. I heard the shower turn on before he returned.
Raindrops clinging to his skin made me quickly avert my gaze.

No way.

Does he even realize how incredibly sexy he is?

"A little hungry, but there's nothing left to eat except this sparkling water," I said, holding up the bottle.

I'm always like this. I don't like stocking up on things, or buying clothes unless I absolutely need them. If I want something but see a long queue, I won't buy it.

Is it laziness? I'm not sure how to define it.

"Very hungry?"

"Too hungry to sleep," I frowned. I heard a soft chuckle before he sat down on the bar stool opposite me.

Being this close, with only the bar between us, made me even more awkward.

Especially with him looking at me like that…

"You get hungry at night," he stated, tapping his fingers silently on the counter.

"It's a bad habit that's only started recently,"

Before, I'd be asleep by nine because that's how I was raised. Then, in university, I wanted to break free from my goody-two-shoes, early-to-bed habits.

I started staying up later, an hour at a time, until eventually my sleep schedule was
completely reversed.

"Want to order something to eat?"

"I can't order," I shook my head. My usual laziness kicked in. I was hungry, but I didn't want to put in the effort to order or go get something.

"I'll order. But if you don't want to order, want to go out to eat?"

I lowered my eyes to look at his fingertips, noticing a large, silver ring.

Even though I should have been too lazy to move,

just drinking water and trying to sleep...

"I haven't eaten either," Anwar added, seeing how long I was taking to decide. His brown eyes met mine.

What kind of answer was he expecting?

"Let's order."

Maybe he was tired from working, hungry, and just wanted someone to eat with.

"Okay. Just a sec," He grinned, pulling out his phone and scrolling through it before handing it to me. "Check out this menu. It's the same place you ate at before."

I nodded. The menu on the screen was incredibly long—hundreds of items, and not a single picture.

That burger was pretty good. Maybe this meal would be a hundred times better than apples and Kit Kats.

Anwar chose two Texas Cheese Burger Deluxes. I opted for a bacon, double-egg, and cheese sandwich.

Then came the awkward part. We sat in silence for several minutes while we waited for the food.

Fifteen minutes felt like an hour.

Anwar rested his arms on the bar. He looked at me observantly, but it wasn't a staring that made me uncomfortable.

No, I wasn't uncomfortable.

Just a strange flutter in my stomach, and I didn't know where to put my hands.

"Am I making things difficult?" I asked softly.

I felt myself shrinking in front of him.

"No. Why...hungry at almost two in the morning?"

"Yeah."

"If you knew you'd be hungry, why didn't you buy something to keep?" He smiled slightly, gesturing towards the water bottle in front of me. "I've seen you with that water twice now."

"I don't know. I didn't think I'd be hungry every night like this."

Anwar nodded. His eyes held a strange sparkle.

I followed his gaze.

Feeling myself being drawn in, I quickly changed the subject and looked away.

"What are those books?"

"Patterns and runway retrospectives," Anwar pushed them towards me, showing me the covers clearly. There were runway photos, women in fashionable clothes, and something I couldn't quite make out.

"Jasper said you're studying fashion," I looked up at him. When he nodded in confirmation, I continued, "Why did you choose to study fashion?"

"Um...because I saw it and was interested, so I tried learning about it," He blinked, a small smile appearing on his lips. "And that interest turned into a liking, then love."

"..."

"Now it's become a part of my life."

He said it casually.

That's amazing, someone who knows what they like and confidently pursues it.

"Why were you interested in the first place?" I lightly traced my finger across the book cover before opening it. I didn't know what he used it for. Maybe for reference, maybe for studying something.

But all I could tell was that it was beautiful, unusual, or something like that.

"It was just a feeling that touched me for a short time," Anwar furrowed his brow. He paused, as if searching for an explanation.

"I just became interested and wanted to get to know it...it's not just clothes or objects that can make someone interested."

I felt pinned by the difficult-to-understand sentence, starting to feel breathless.
Especially when Anwar met my gaze directly.

"Sometimes, another person can make you feel that way. Don't you think?"

"I...guess so," I replied softly, like I was sleeptalking.

I knew what an interesting person looked like.

Like P'Phim, like Anwar himself... whether they realized it or not. They were the type of person who drew people in.

Made you want to talk, to get to know them, to be near them.

And I couldn't deny that Anwar's attraction was far greater than P'Phim's, incomparable.

Anwar smiled faintly before his phone rang.

"They might be here."

I grabbed my water bottle and gulped it down as the tall figure got up to get the food downstairs.

Trying to force myself to regain my composure.

I didn't want to seem strange to Anwar or anyone here. So, please stop having these strange reactions to his charm.

Anwar returned with the bag, just like before. After that, I kept my mouth shut, as did Anwar, who diligently ate both of his large burgers.

Neither of us spoke until the small meal was over.

"I'll go upstairs to get the money."

"It's okay, no need to rush," He refused. After finishing, he bundled up the trash and threw it away, picking up the fashion book while simultaneously draping a knitted sweater over his shoulder. "I might not be sleeping here every night. I'll write down the restaurant's food delivery website information, or try to buy something to keep."

"Okay."

"Try not to skip meals when you're hungry. It's not good." His serious tone and
expression...was he scolding me?
I quickly nodded vigorously.

"Alright. Good night."

"Sweet dreams." The moment I finished speaking, he disappeared into his bedroom.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

His deep voice and his last words echoed in my head even while I was brushing my teeth and getting under the thick blanket.

His smile and brown eyes, too.

He was the last person I saw in my thoughts.

And the first person I saw in the morning...

Anwar turned to meet my gaze as I ran down from the third floor. The tall figure sat calmly on the sofa, one hand idly scrolling through his phone, while the other was held by Hazel.

He was letting Hazel paint his nails.

Hazel greeted me with a good morning, and I replied before hurrying out of the building because I was going to be late for class. My mind kept circling back to the last image I saw of him.

I've never painted my nails, and I've never had a close male friend who did.

But I did have one friend who studied art. I was friends with him on Facebook. I'd seen him painting his nails a few times – sometimes tiger stripes, sometimes solid black.

Art students are probably like that. They see it as normal.

I didn't think it was strange, but I wasn't used to it, and I didn't plan on doing it myself either.

Today's class went smoothly. We had a short quiz, and then the regular lesson. I was
probably lucky that having a full stomach helped me fall asleep faster. Otherwise, I would have been tormented by constantly thinking about food and ended up going to class with dark circles under my eyes.

"Blue, let's go out today!" Gia threw her arms around my waist loosely, her smiling face close to mine.

Gia is very physically affectionate.

It's something I'm completely incapable of. Gia makes me wonder what attracts someone so lovely, friendly, and socially adept like her to someone as awkward as me.

"Where?"

"Rome's group invited us to a club, but Alice said if you're too tired from university classes, she'll suggest a bar instead."

Will Anwar be there?

That was the first question that popped into my head.

I couldn't tell if I was hoping to see him there or not. It was a formless thought. I didn't even know how different it would be if Anwar was there versus not there.

But if I did see him, it would be nice.

...maybe.

At least I might have someone to walk home with. My chances of getting mugged or
stabbed on the street would be higher otherwise.

"Come on, come on...pretty please."

"Fine, fine." I nodded, looking at Gia whose smile was even brighter. "But don't drink too much."

Would she know I'm not a heavy drinker? Every time she invites me out, it always ends up alcohol.

"Why shouldn't I drink a lot?"

"Because I'm not good at drinking."

"Then why not drink until you're good...?"

Gia tilted her head, genuinely curious, not teasing.

"Umm...maybe because I don't know why I need to be good at drinking. And are you really good at drinking?"

"Pretty good. In Korea, we drink heavily." She didn't just say it; she also mimed taking a shot.

I scanned my surroundings. Gia and I were sitting in a medium-sized bar, with a bar counter, tables, and a small stage raised a level above the floor. A female singer was sitting on a small chair on the stage, tuning her guitar.

Rome's group was smoking outside. Currently, only Rome, Cole, Chen, and Alice were here.

About half an hour later, Max arrived with another friend. We drank quite a lot of beer.

But there was still no sign of Anwar.

"Blue, how do you know Anwar?" Alice, sitting next to me, started a conversation. She spoke in Thai, so only a few people understood the question.

"We live in the same apartment building."

"Really? How?"

"He posted an ad looking for someone to rent a room, and I contacted him."

I don't even know who posted the ad online.
Maybe it was Jasper.

I still remember posting the apartment pictures and filling out the information in a rush. It probably reflects one person's style more than the other between Jasper and Anwar.

Probably Jasper.

"Drink more! Cheers!" Gia was ten times more cheerful now that she was a little tipsy. She kept toasting everyone randomly. This must be at least the tenth toast.

"Actually, I know Anwar through this group. I was the last one to join. Oh, no, Max joined.later because he was already friends with Anwar."

"Oh, and he…is he nice?" I didn't know how to continue the conversation, so I threw the question back, randomly.

Alice raised an eyebrow. "Do you mean Max or Anwar?"

"Both."

"Max is cool, I've never met anyone who dislikes him. And Anwar too," I agreed with Alice on this point.

I couldn't deny it. Even though I'd only known him a short time and hadn't talked to him much.

I still thought it was possible to like someone.

It's just...I just hope that liking doesn't go beyond the boundaries of friendship.

"Speak of the devil," Alice muttered, glancing at a tall figure walking towards our table.

Anwar was smiling cheerfully. He lightly bumped fists with Max as he passed. Another guy followed behind him.

He looked intensely intimidating.

"Everyone, this is Kit."

"Hi everyone," Kit smirked at everyone. Or maybe he was trying to smile amiably, but his overall expression seemed quite sharp. His grey-green eyes scanned everyone at the table.

His dark eyebrows were perfectly sculpted, his nose was sharp, and his lips were full,
contrasting with his slender face.

Kit seemed like someone I wouldn't dare make eye contact with if I happened to pass him on the street.

They chose to sit opposite us, slightly to my right. I lowered my gaze, looking at the beer in my glass, which kept getting refilled until it seemed like it never went down.

This bar wasn't far from the apartment, unlike Rome’s place, so I wasn't as worried about drinking as much as I was then.

And tomorrow was a holiday too.

Although I said I wouldn't drink much, Gia seemed to ignore me completely. She kept refilling my beer and persistently inviting me for toasts.

I flinched when I saw Kit whisper something in Anwar's ear before gently rubbing his nose against Anwar's jawline.

That kind of touch couldn't possibly happen between just friends.

Excellent.

I had once found him with a woman who'd left a flimsy top in his bedroom. Another time, they were cuddling. Now, it’s a guy who seems to be constantly on the verge of kissing him.

When Anwar's gaze shifted to meet mine, I quickly looked away.

Panicked that he'd catch me staring.

I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a small smile lingering on his handsome face. He
eventually looked past me, as did I, trying not to look at them.

I kept drinking until I started to enjoy the conversations around me and the singer's music. I started to smile widely, laugh, and chat with everyone.

It's not often that I drink to this point, where everything seems fun.

I felt myself laughing easily and talking more freely than usual, and it wasn't a bad feeling at all.

I started to feel Anwar's unwavering gaze, making me shift my eyes around, looking at anything but his beautiful brown eyes.

Then, a moment of sufficient courage arrived.

I tried looking at him. It felt like an electric shock to my chest.

Anwar didn't avert his gaze like I usually did. Instead, he looked deeply into my eyes, holding my stare, making me feel strange and causing my heart to race.

Then Gia threw her arm around me.

I lowered my head. My ears and neck were flushed, and I unconsciously reached up to touch them.

I didn't know what was going through his mind behind his calm expression, but that look… it made me feel very embarrassed.

After a few more drinks, I started feeling exhausted. My vision blurred intermittently, making me dizzy.

"I'll be right back," I shouted over the music, letting Gia, who seemed even drunker than me, know.

I jumped up and headed outside.

I felt stuffy and dizzy, craving fresh air, hoping it might help.

I crouched down beside a small bush in front of the bar. The cool wind hit my numb face.

Everything seemed to be speeding up. Someone stepped beside me. Looking up, I saw a familiar face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice lightly amused.

I probably didn't look very good.

"No, I'm dizzy," I answered truthfully. "I want to sleep."

Anwar seemed to be a heavy drinker. He probably knew what stage I was at and could offer some advice.

"You don't look so good. Should I take you home?"

"...What about Kit?" I paused to consider, but eventually asked, "Isn't he with you?"

"Yes."

"Why isn't he going home with you?"

"He doesn't live with me, like you," Anwar crouched down beside me, his eyes serious as he emphasized my condition. "You're not doing well. Let's go home."

The thought of a soft bed and warm air in my room made me want to teleport back right then.

But then the image of Anwar with several people floated into my head, and I pursed my lips, shaking my head in refusal.

"No, it's okay."

"So what are you going to do? Go back inside and keep drinking until you black out?"

I shook my head.

I'd never been so drunk that I blacked out. I couldn't imagine how bad it would be.

"Anwar, can I ask you something?" I looked at him. Anwar raised an eyebrow.

"Ask away."

I sighed and buried my face in my arms.
"Blue," he called out, probably thinking I'd fallen asleep.

Meanwhile, I couldn't stop thinking about him, Sydney (the first woman), and Kit.

"Are you a player?" I blurted out, fueled by unexpected boldness.

The alcohol made everything easier. The question that had been brewing since I met Sydney finally escaped.

Looking up, I saw Anwar looking slightly pale.

"Why do you think that?"

"You're dating multiple people. Aren't you a flirt?"

"....You mean..." He paused, rephrasing. "What does 'flirt' even mean?"

"I don't know. Like, dating multiple people... having one sleep over, having another rest their head on your shoulder, holding hands, kissing another on the cheek... stuff like that."

I couldn't stop myself anymore, nor the quick-fire thoughts racing through my head.

Anwar's eyes widened. He seemed surprised by the whole list I'd rattled off.
Because it was all him.

"Were you watching?"

"..."

"It's not really 'player' or 'flirt' here. We call it 'casual dating.' Do you know what that is?" I shook my head. Anwar chuckled softly, sighed, and stood up.

He held out his hand.

"Are you done with your questions? Shall we go home?"

I pursed my lips.

I didn't like P'Phim being a flirt. His dating multiple people at once hurt me.

But Anwar and I weren't together. How should I feel if he was the same?

"If I end up having to carry you home, it's no different whether I do it while you're conscious
or not. So cooperate before I have to make that decision," he threatened. Hearing that, I quickly placed my hand in his warm palm.

Anwar used his other hand to hold my arm, preventing me from falling to the ground.

"Wait a second. Is there anything of yours still inside?" He guided me to lean against the wall.

"My bag."

"Wait here," he ordered calmly, pushing open the door and disappearing into the bar. He.returned with my bag slung over his shoulder.

Kit followed closely behind, his beautiful face clearly showing his displeasure.

"You said you were going to spend the night at my place."

"I'm too tired today. Another time, okay?" Anwar replied softly. "Is that alright?"

"Then I'll sleep at your place instead. Just sleep."

Anwar shook his head, lifting a hand to touch Kit's cheek. "Do you ever just sleep? How about this: you go home and rest. I'll make it up to you later."

Kit frowned and turned away.

Anwar smiled, moving closer to the smaller figure before pressing a kiss to his shoulder. He whispered something I couldn't hear.

Finally, Kit nodded. He glanced at me, standing there like a helpless vegetable.

"Fine," he replied curtly, but then wrapped his arms around Anwar's neck and kissed him on the lips.

I quickly looked away, feeling like I was completely out of place and wanted to disappear.

I didn't see what happened after that until Anwar had put Kit in a taxi. Then he turned to me.

"Can you walk?"

"Yes," I said, trying to show him, but because I'd been leaning against the wall for too long, I stumbled and almost fell.

My upper arm was caught just in time.

"Be careful."

"I can walk," I argued, trying to pull away from his warm embrace.

"If you fall and sprain your ankle, I'll have to carry you. If you don't want that, walk properly and stop being stubborn."

I shut my mouth and continued walking, aware of his warmth beside me, contrasting with the cool night air. The touch of Anwar's hand was prominent in my awareness.

"You said you weren't a flirt," I frowned, returning to the thought of the kiss they'd just shared.

He's got something going on with three different people!

What else would you call it if not flirting?

"I'm not playing anyone," he denied, completely unconcerned. "If you still want to know after you sober up, I'll explain then."

"I don't need to know that much."

Now Anwar looked down at me silently, his expression like he wanted to hit me.

"Don't let me hear you ask about that again."

"..."

"Otherwise, I'll assume you want to be played."