Before He Met Bright Vachirawit (Prequel to Bright for the Win)

Chapter 1

A/N: The image above does not belong to me. It belongs to the person who uploaded it on the internet.

For those who don't know him, his name is Sapol Assawamunkong, a Thai actor and model. He is currently playing the role of Inspector Sorawit in "Manner of Death".

Sapol's POV

I pulled out my grey handkerchief from my pocket and used it to wipe the rain from Win's forehead.

We were standing outside the entrance of the hospital building where I had accompanied Win to visit his cousin who had just undergone surgery for appendicitis.

Win moved away.

"You don't have to do that," he said as he bent his head to unzip the front pocket of his backpack. He pulled out a packet of facial tissues from his backpack.

"Don't waste your facial tissues," I scolded him. "Just use my cloth handkerchief. I can always have it washed when I get home."

He reached for my handkerchief but I moved it out of his reach and started to wipe the sides of his forehead with it.

There was no roofing outside the lobby of the hospital building. The rain was pouring relentlessly down on us.

"Let's make a run for the parking lot before we both get soaked too much," I suggested.

I grabbed Win's wrist before running in the direction of the parking lot.

I unlocked the car doors with my remote as we neared my car.

"You are dripping wet now," I said to Win as he settled himself on the front passenger seat of my car.

We were now in the close confines of my car. My dad had just bought this car for me a few months ago. The smell of the leather seats were still strong.

I unbuttoned his immaculate white shirt and used my grey handkerchief to dab on the wetness of his chest.

His mouth was slightly open as he looked into my eyes.

"Sapol... " he murmured my name before I pressed my lips on his.

Win is my childhood friend.

He was only ten years old when my family and I moved into his neighborhood. We lived next door to each other.

My parents and I used to live in Newcastle in northern England where my father was the CEO of the UK branch of a multinational company whose main office was here in Thailand.

We lived there for three years before my father was sent back here to head the newly opened branch in Bangkok.

I was sixteen years old when we moved back to Thailand. And I was sixteen years old when I first met the ten year old Metawin.

His mother had come to our doorstep with an offer of a large rectangular Corningware of green bean casserole. It was her way of welcoming our family to the neighborhood.

After that Win's mother and mine became fast friends. His father and mine did not interact too much because they were both busy with their individual businesses.

Even though I was six years older than Win, for some reason we had become close friends. We enjoyed playing the same games and we would spend hours sometimes in my house and sometimes in his, just playing our games.

On weekends when we totally forgot about the time and it was so late, my mom would call his mom to ask if it was okay for Win to spend the night at my house and of course his mom agreed to it.

I would tell Win that it would be no fun if he were to use the guest room. My bed was big enough for the two of us to sleep on anyway.

I was twenty one and he was fifteen on that one rainy Saturday night when after we came home from visiting his cousin at the hospital, my mom invited Win to have dinner with us.

As usual, we played our games late into the night and Win ended up sleeping in my room again.

We had finished with our evening rituals. We had brushed our teeth so our breath were smelling minty. By age fifteen, Win was very close to my height and build so it was no problem lending him a pair of pajamas.

We had both bid each other a sleepy good night and had simultaneously turned our backs on each other.

The loud clap of thunder followed immediately by lightning that flashed brightly against my bedroom window startled both of us into facing each other and clinging tightly to each other.

I will never, ever forget that one stormy Saturday night. Nor, I hoped, would he.