Chapter Text
Porchay maintains his perfect smile as his manager continues to record him. He is doing a live broadcast to show his fans the brand new invitation to the MTV Asia Awards that are going to be held in Thailand that year.
He's even nominated for Emerging Artist, and although he's excited about it, he knows he's not going to win. But the mere thought of going is... intoxicating. It's his first big taste of the music industry in every sense of the word.
He'll meet other singers, actors, people in the business. He'll walk his first red carpet and sit at a table full of important people, and if the night goes well, maybe he'll make a couple of friends.
He says goodbye with a couple of kisses to the camera and when the broadcast finally ends, the boy dramatically plops down on the couch he was sitting on. Lia, his manager, throws a cushion at him in mock anger.
- You ungrateful little brat, I thought you'd be out of your mind! Do you know how important this is going to be for your career?
- I do, I do! I'm excited, it's just... I'm also worried. This is too big a deal, what if I screw up, what if I say the wrong thing and someone gets upset, what if I trip on the red carpet and then I don't get invited to any more in my life? What if-?
This time, the woman throws another pillow at him with real force.
- Get a grip. I know it sounds scary, but you'll be at a musical event, not walking down death row. You just have to be yourself. People love you for that, for being a brat with no filter. Even if you were to make a mistake, we could justify you because it's your first time, or because of how young you are. Everything will be fine, now all we have to worry about is your outfit for the big day.
Porchay ends up agreeing with her, and looks at his calendar, where Saturday the 26th is marked, just one week from that day.
**++
Well, Porchay is not nervous. He's absolutely terrified. The stylist Lia hired is putting the finishing touches on him, and soon he'll have to leave for the awards. He knows he looks good.
Truth be told, he's never been too fond of tight clothes, but he knows he looks good in the variation of suit he's wearing. The satin pants stop impeccably at his hips, and while the piece itself shouldn't be too much, Porchay has big thighs, and an even bigger ass.
Above, he wears a sand-colored dress shirt with long sleeves, which stops a few inches above his navel. Over this, a satin jacket to match the pants.
The outfit is quite simple, so the stylist focused on the accessories. Gold bracelets, along with a pair of rings and a lace choker at his throat. His makeup is light, barely evident that he is wearing a layer of eyeliner, over a light shade of the same grayish color as his outfit.
His hair sparked a nearly 20-minute argument in which the woman was screaming for them to let her do her damn job and Porchay was reluctant to show up to his first awards show looking like he'd just been electrocuted. In the end, they came to an agreement where he let the girl frizz his curls just a little.
Honestly, it's the best he's ever looked, but the feeling that something bad is going to happen is still present in his body, crawling all over him as if a gust of wind is hitting from the inside.
Time to go, Lia yells at him from the door, and he takes a picture in front of the mirror that was supposed to show his outfit to upload it to Instagram, but ends up being a blurry blob of gray and gold colors.
His fans love it anyway, and think he uploaded it on purpose so they can have fun imagining what kind of style he'll wear to the red carpet.
**++
When they get out of the van and Lia tells him that he must now go on alone, Porchay positively wants to grab her leg and beg her not to leave him. But the flashes are starting to hit him in the face and he smiles automatically, starting to move forward.
He's never had so many cameras on him, there are people shouting at him from every possible direction and the hellish heat of Thailand is starting to make him sweat.
It's all right. It's all right. Everything is fine.
He's attracting all the attention and hopes, anxiety running all over him, that it's because they appreciate his youthful look, and not because his eyeliner is running or he is missing a button or-
His internal monologue stops him from seeing what's in front of him and suddenly he crashes into something. Porchay freezes, as something starts to turn towards him.
Oh God.
The man who is giving him a look as surprised as his own seems unreal. All the times he's looked at him in magazines, on TV, or on the huge posters advertising his concerts across the country, he's noticed that he's handsome. But having him in front of him, he can see that he's not just that, he's the most damn perfect man that ever lived.
He's looking at him like he's waiting for him to say something, and Porchay knows, logically he should apologize, but he feels like a deer in front of a blinding light. The guy seems to take pity on him and stretching out a hand that he puts on his shoulder, he speaks to him.
- Sorry, I stopped so suddenly that you bumped into me, sweetheart.
Porchay wants to die. He wants to scream like a schoolgirl and ask him to call him sweetheart again. He wants to apologize to him for existing in the same space as him, but he summons all his willpower and puts his hand on top of his.
- I'm sorry Mr. Kim, I should have been more attentive.
The man gives him a blinding smile, and Porchay smiles back without even thinking about it. He knows they've already stopped too long, and that they're probably in the way of the rest of the artists coming after them but he couldn't care less.
Finally, the bubble bursts, Kim snaps his arm back into place and Porchay swallows with blood the urge to pout. The man steps back a little to let him go first, and he hurries.
He's taken a couple of steps when he hears a You look stunning from behind him. He turns immediately, just to make sure he's not hearing things and Kim freaking Theerapanyakul just gave him a compliment.
And he can swear the guy's eyes were on his ass, because when he meets his gaze, it's rolling up his back. When their gazes meet, Kim smiles at him again before running his tongue over his lips and Porchay feels like he's going burst in to spontaneous combustion.
He doesn't have the strength to thank him, and fearing he's doing something foolish, he turns away with his face on fire and a silly grin, continuing on his way down the red carpet.
The flashes continue to blind him momentarily, and as his body recovers its normal temperature, he thinks that surely the next day the internet will be full of him having a crush on Thailand's hottest singer.
But it's okay. Lia said everything would be okay.
Finally, he gets to the end of the line of cameramen and allows himself to sigh. He didn't die yet, but he's just about to start the actual event, so he decides to go to the on-site restrooms and give himself a few minutes of peace.
As he looks in the mirror, he smiles in relief as he realizes that his makeup is still in place and his outfit is impeccable. He splashes some water on his hair, taking care not to mess up his curls, and leaves to head inside the place.
The table he has been assigned to is right in front of the stage, and in addition to his own there is another empty chair. As he approaches and says hello quietly, he wonders who the last person will be.
His curiosity is resolved minutes later, when a stunning man in an Armani suit sits down next to him, smiling and putting a hand on his shoulder just as he did on the red carpet.
**++
As the program begins normally, Porchay can't help but feel a little uncomfortable.
Not because of Kim sitting next to him, but because he gets the impression that every 5 seconds someone turns in his direction. And he can't judge them. Even he can't believe that he somehow attracted Kim Theerapanyakul's attention.
The man has moved his hand from his shoulder, just to bring it to his knee, to his forearm, anywhere but he keeps touching him. He smiles at his every moment and silly comment. He doesn't quite understand what's going on, and the looks of the people around him become hostile, charged with envy.
But he feels good, and he doesn't care if he doesn't make any more friends, because he likes this friend.
Kim has won two of the four categories in which he was nominated before it's finally his turn to go on stage. Porchay feels like he's having his romantic movie moment when every so many seconds, Kim turns in his direction as he intones "Fade."
When he returns to the table, he has removed his jacket, and the rolled-up sleeves of his white shirt reveal a tattoo on his forearm.
- It's almost your turn. Are you excited about your first award?
- Oh - Porchay feels himself blushing at the confidence he seems to have in him - I don't really think I'll win, but just being nominated is very important to me.
Kim gives him an amused look, but doesn't get to say anything else before the staff approaches Porchay to take him to get ready.
As he walks out onto the stage, the boy feels as nervous as the first time he had a solo concert. Not only are there a lot more people, but he can feel a thunderous stare in his direction, one that he can't return because he knows he'll get distracted, forget the lyrics or go off-key and make a fool of himself on national television.
So he focuses on the fans as he sings "This song is called you."
Sweat has plastered his curls to his forehead by the time he is able to take his seat at the table again. Kim seems to be waiting for him, gesturing dramatically as if he is going to faint. Porchay laughs a little and gives him a friendly smack, much to the surprised looks of the rest of the nearby artists.
And although he has accepted his defeat early on, his heart races when the Emerging Artist category is announced. His name along with a photograph appear on the huge screen, and he smiles, wishing that the next time he appears there, it will be with better chances.
"And the winner is... Porchay Kittisawat!"
The fans are silent for barely a second before going wild in cheers of victory. But the hostess, the people at their table, the people at other tables, the staff... everyone looks as shocked as Porchay.
Kim shakes him a little to bring him out of his trance.
- I have a sixth sense
Porchay stands up to approach the main catwalk, as he looks at a slim girl with red hair and a black dress, the girl who in everyone's eyes, including his, would win. And those are the longest seconds of his life, because he was so sure he wouldn't win, that he didn't find it necessary to prepare any acceptance speech.
- I uh... I'm as surprised as you are. I wish I knew what to say at this moment, but the emotion is such that I can't think of anything! I just want to thank you and say that I love you! Let's stay together for a long time!
He finishes with a bow and the audience explodes in screams about how cute he is and how much he deserves the award.
He can barely notice the moment when he sits back down, surrounded by stares that now seem to want to erase him from existence.
- I thought you couldn't look any better, but that award looks good on you.
He meets Kim's warm gaze, and can't help but lunge forward, giving him a short, awkward hug. Kim smiles even bigger and takes the award from his hands to place it next to his own, which now makes 3.
Porchay's phone starts vibrating in his pants, and he unlocks it to find that Kim Theerapanyakul has started following him on Instagram, and moreover, tagged him in a story.
The picture of their awards, with the message, "Winner's night."
Porchay laughs, loud and infectious, and the night feels like a real movie story, for more than one reason.
**++
On Monday morning, he finds himself sleepless waiting for Lia at his apartment, after she practically applied the silent treatment to him as soon as the Awards were over. He won't lie about it hurting.
He hoped that it would be precisely his manager who would celebrate his surprise award the most, not that she would greet him with stony silence and send him home just like that. Maybe she was just surprised, though he knew her well enough to know better.
On Sunday he received just a dry message that she would be at his apartment the next morning at 9:00 a.m. to talk. Porchay read it amidst laughter and shouts of celebration from his friends.
While waiting for the woman, he made himself a coffee and started to check his social networks.
Two days had already passed, but the internet was still full of his and Kim's name. Twits, posts, edits, tik toks, memes, the event had been completely overshadowed by their interaction.
There were people upset about it, of course. Fans of artists who had won major awards that no one was paying attention to, and most of all, fans of Lilith, the girl Porchay beat in the category.
And he would like to say that he felt bad about it, but every time he looked at his name engraved on that little object, he was overcome with emotion as when he heard his name announced as the winner.
And besides that, he was extremely happy about something else. He had managed to make a friend, one with an international name.
One that raised his curiosity as to why people seemed so surprised that he was interested in him. He knew Kim was a private man, but he'd never made any pretense of inquiring about his private life, beyond what he occasionally saw via social media, which was always sparse and familiar stuff.
And well, since they were friends now, a little curiosity wasn't a bad thing, right?
The first thing that caught his attention was his Instagram. His photos were mostly, paid advertisements, but there were a few that looked authentic, and Porchay loved them all. He had read on Twitter that he was the first person outside of his family that he followed.
He was a little disappointed to see that there were 2 more people who did not carry the surname Theerapanyakul among his few followers, but curiosity got with him, and upon looking at their profiles, he realized that technically, yes they were his family.
Porsche Pachara and Pete Phongsakorn. The husbands of his brother Kinn and his cousin Vegas.
So at last, something inside him felt warm to know that he was indeed the only one outside of his close circle to have the honor. After that, he wanted to stop, as he started to feel like a stalker, but one thing led to another, and he ended up reading a thread about how he was the first person Kim seemed to interact with because he genuinely wanted to.
He had collaborated many times with many artists. And while he was perfectly polite and professional, everyone agreed that the man placed a very obvious barrier between them.
Kim was seen aside work stuff, only with his family. He had 2 older brothers, businessmen, named Kinn and Tankhun. And his closest immediate family were his cousins, Vegas and Macao.
It was known that out of all of them, Macao was the closest thing he had to a best friend. He had no known partners, no known scandals. The guy had what appeared to be an unblemished career.
Porchay felt a little out of place among so much perfection and so many Theerapanyakul.
He didn't have time to poke around any more, because the doorbell announced Lia's arrival.
Opening the door for her, Porchay recognized the same closed expression from Saturday, and honestly, he didn't know what to make of it anymore, so he waited for her to sit down on the couch across from him and explain what the hell was going on.
Had he done something wrong? Had someone been upset? Was she going to leave him?
- You have to stay away from him.
What?
- You got too close. I want you to back off.
Porchay feels like he's missing something, but Lia pulls a magazine out of her bag. The latest issue of Teen Vogue, which has a picture of him and Kim on the cover, taken at an angle that makes it look like the man is kissing him.
His face immediately heats up, his mind flying to the mere possibility that- Nope.
He has to concentrate, and now he understands that Lia's face is not annoyance, but concern. Many questions come to mind, but he vocalizes only one.
- Why?
He's almost certain that Lia is going to pull out her mom manager card and say something like Because I say so, but she sighs and twiddles her fingers, a gesture she commonly makes when she's trying to find a way to explain the unexplainable.
- The rumors about him. They're not rumors, you understand?
For a moment, there doesn't seem to be a single sound in his apartment. Porchay doesn't have to ask what rumors she's referring to. Given the secrecy with which Kim handles his private life, his meteoric career and his family's absolute wealth, people rumor that the Theerapanyakul belong to the underworld elite.
He paid no attention to those rumors because he found them ridiculous. Simply a vain attempt to generate controversy for a flawless artist. And it didn't seem realistic to him. The Theerapanyakul had not acquired their wealth overnight, or by winning the lottery.
Kim's father, who was also an businessman, was on the Forbes list as one of the richest men not only in Asia, but in the world. His older brothers and cousin Vegas were running several of his franchises and had even started some new ones, while Kim and Macau moved into the artistic side, Kim being a world-famous singer and Macau modeling for high fashion houses.
But Lia didn't seem willing to debate or admit to any more questions. She slowly got up from the couch and when Porchay came out of his trance and caught up with her at the door, she didn't even turn to look at him.
- But I... I was excited to be his friend.....
Lia turned at last, and grabbed his shoulders so hard it hurt.
- That man was not being friendly Porchay. I know you're at the age where you want to jump from bed to bed, but I beg you, do it in any bed but his.
After saying that, she disappeared, and Porchay was left with a cold feeling in his stomach.
**++
A couple of hours later, he still can't shake that ugly feeling off, and the direct message he gets from Kim doesn't help him at all.
"Hi sweetheart, hope you're not busy."
Porchay struggles with himself for a few minutes before unlocking his phone and asking what's going on. Half an hour later he's sitting in a small cafe, with the man he was supposed to walk away from in front of him, singing him an excerpt from his next song.
And everything is fine, the boy almost forgets what his manager told him, all until Kim puts his cell phone camera in front of them, and for a few moments, Porchay wonders what will be worse, whether to tell Kim that there can't be any proof that they were together because his manager thinks he's the king of the underworld, or to let Kim do as he pleases once again and confront Lia later.
Click
The photo is cute, he thinks in consolation, as he watches Kim put a filter on it before uploading it not to his stories, but to his feed.
After a slice of chocolate cake he couldn't resist, he saves his contact in the man's phone, and tries to pretend he doesn't have butterflies in his stomach as they rise from their seats and Kim offers him his hand.
He's about to let go as they leave the café, but Kim intertwines their fingers and turns to smile at him.
It's just a passing crush, he repeats over and over as he finds himself in a warm embrace, smelling expensive cologne and with gentle fingers caressing his lower back.
A car pulls up beside him, and Kim tells him that his driver will take him home. Porchay tells him he can take an Uber, but the man insists, and before getting in, Porchay decides that if he's going to fuck up, he's going to do it right, so he stretches a little and kisses him. But he miscalculates, and what was supposed to be a sweet kiss on the lips ends up landing between the corner of his mouth and his cheek.
He blushes furiously and feels like an amateur, but when he pulls away, he can see that Kim is smiling so much that his eyes disappear for a couple of seconds. Something warm spreads in his chest, and before he does another foolish thing, he gets in the damn car and waves goodbye one last time.
In the evening, while he's finally in bed, he gets a text from Lia. He has the feeling that he's going to meet the bible itself in a text, but quite the contrary, it's barely a sentence.
"Take a few days. See you on Friday in the studio."
Well, he doesn't know what to expect from that, and he would have preferred to deal with it sooner, because now he knows it will be him and his anxiety until Friday.
He starts tossing and turning in bed, grinning like an idiot as he remembers the goodnight message from his new friend?
But as he begins to drift off to sleep, his brain realizes something.
He never told Kim where he lived.