The sun shone cheerfully, casting its bright rays into the Accounting Department Office, yet there was little cheer to be found inside.
"Uaaghk.." Saint groaned in pain as he shifted uncomfortably.
"Damn.." He pressed his side with his thumb, trying to alleviate the discomfort while checking financial documents.
"Sir, here's your coffee," Tommy, their Audit, said, handing him a cup. "Are you okay, sir?" Tommy noticed Saint's discomfort.
"My back hurts," Saint hissed, scrunching his forehead in pain.
"Hmmm.." Tommy smirked knowingly.
"What?"
Saint glared at him, wincing when another wave of pain shot through his back.
"Did you and the... guy yesterday... like, you know," Tommy whispered, making a gesture with his fingers.
"We did NOT, Tommy!" Saint growled in response.
"So, why does your back hurt, Mr. Suppapong?" Tommy snickered loudly, catching the attention of Zol, the CFO, who joined the conversation.
"Why does your back hurt?" Zol asked, approaching them.
"I... I fell," Saint lied, not wanting to get into details.
Saint and Fighter had endured an incredibly uncomfortable sleeping arrangement the previous night. Saint found himself twisted on his side, facing Fighter, with his hips contorted and his back flat against the bed. His arms were wrapped around Fighter. Meanwhile, Fighter slept on his side facing Saint, with his right leg draped over Saint's hips and his arms curled between their chests. Despite the awkwardness of the position, they remained that way throughout the entire night.
Saint knew that trying to explain this to his colleagues would only lead to misunderstandings and gossip. It was clear to him that their sleeping proximity might be misinterpreted, especially in an office environment. Therefore, he decided to keep the details of their night to himself, preferring to maintain their privacy rather than risk unnecessary speculation among his coworkers.
Before his colleagues could tease him again about his back pain, which he attributed to a fall, someone forcefully shoved the office door open, causing a loud bang that startled everyone. All eyes turned toward the entrance where a woman in her mid-40s, the CEO, emerged, followed closely by the Chairman, her husband. The sight of the CEO rushing toward Saint with a panicked expression caught everyone's attention, and they instinctively straightened up in respect.
"Ma'am, what's going on?" Saint asked, bewildered by their sudden arrival and the CEO's distressed demeanor.
"Saint..." The CEO grasped his hands tightly. "I heard about the commotion yesterday. Where is your friend? Can I see him?" Her voice trembled with emotion, a side of her that Saint had never seen before.
"We heard he looks like our son. Can we meet him? Please?" Mr. Panich, the Chairman, added, his usually composed demeanor softened by grief and hope.
Saint was taken aback by the vulnerability of his usually authoritative superiors. As he looked closely at the Chairman, he noticed the striking resemblance between him and Fighter—those same dreamy and alluring eyes.
"I need to check on something. Saint, please..." Mrs. Panich pleaded, her eyes welling with tears, prompting Saint to respond.
"I will try to talk to him later, ma'am," Saint said gently, feeling a deep sympathy for their loss. He couldn't imagine how difficult it must be for them to accept the resemblance of someone to their deceased child.
"Please..." Mrs. Panich implored once more, her voice cracking with emotion.
"Please, Saint," Mr. Panich echoed softly, his gaze pleading.
Saint nodded solemnly, understanding the importance of granting them this request. He resolved to speak with Fighter and find a way to handle this delicate situation with empathy and care.
Chairman and the CEO left the accounting department with heavy steps, leaving everyone in the room dazed and curious about the exchange they had witnessed. As Saint returned to his desk, he sank into his chair heavily and let out a deep sigh, his mind filled with thoughts about the CEO's unexpected request and the emotional weight of the situation.
Saint rubbed his temples, trying to gather his thoughts amidst the lingering tension. He knew he needed to find a way to discuss the CEO's request with Fighter sensitively, considering the delicate nature of the situation. Despite his own concerns and confusion, he remained determined to handle the matter with compassion and understanding, both for Fighter and for the grieving CEO and Chairman.
"Are they really that similar?" Saint asked, breaking the tense silence that had settled over the room.
"Saint, you have no idea! They look exactly alike!" Zol exclaimed, his expression reflecting a mix of disbelief and awe. As someone who had been with the company for years, Zol knew the CEO and Chairman's son well enough to recognize a striking resemblance when he saw one.
Saint nodded thoughtfully, trying to process the gravity of the situation.
"Then, what happened to their son?" Saint asked, genuinely curious about the CEO and Chairman's late child.
"You'll have to look it up online. His story was everywhere when he passed," Zol replied, her tone grave. She motioned for Saint to come closer to her desk and began typing on her monitor.
Saint moved over to Zol's desk, leaning in to see what she was searching for. His curiosity mingled with a sense of trepidation, unsure of what he might uncover about the CEO and Chairman's tragic loss.
Saint gasped as he read the article displayed on Zol's monitor. The title, "Panich's only son died in a horrendous car accident," along with a photo of the accident scene, sent a chill down his spine.
"To make it short, the car was intentionally lit on fire while he was on his way here," Zol summarized, her voice heavy with sorrow.
"Intentionally?" Saint repeated, struggling to grasp the gravity of what he was hearing. It wasn't an accident at all—it was a deliberate act of violence.
"Yeah, because according to the investigation, the fire started from inside the car, and they found a trace of a cigar lighter," Zol explained, her eyes tearing up at the memory of the tragic event.
Saint felt his hands start to tremble as he processed the horrific details of the son's death. The thought that someone could intentionally harm another in such a devastating way shook him to the core.
"No one could identify the body because it was all burnt out, but according to the witness, it was indeed him in the car because she saw him entering his car before he left from his hotel where he was staying," Zol added solemnly.
"He was about to be appointed as the new CEO," their bookkeeper interjected from his desk.
"He was. That's why the parents could never accept his sudden death," Saifah chimed in, his voice tinged with sadness.
Saint felt a lump form in his throat, struggling to comprehend the magnitude of the tragedy. "Did they find the..." He hesitated, finding it difficult to finish his sentence.
"Unfortunately, they haven't found the person behind all of this," Zol sighed, her disbelief evident.
The weight of the situation settled heavily on Saint's shoulders. He could only imagine the anguish and frustration the CEO and Chairman must feel, knowing that the perpetrator of such a heinous act had yet to be brought to justice.
"I... I don't know what to say," Saint murmured, feeling utterly helpless in the face of such senseless violence.
Zol nodded in understanding, her expression mirroring his somber mood. "It's a difficult reality to accept."
Silence enveloped the room as they all contemplated the injustice of what had happened. Saint's thoughts raced, grappling with the enormity of the tragedy and its unexpected connection to Fighter.
Saint absorbed the shocking information, feeling a surge of emotions as he processed the details. He rarely used the internet, so all he had known was that their son had died in an accident—nothing more. But now, faced with the tragic reality, his heartbeat quickened, and his legs felt weak as he finally noticed the date of the accident.
The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. The date matched the day his own father had died in a car accident. His legs almost gave out beneath him, but Tommy, who had been standing beside him in stunned silence, quickly reached out and steadied him. Saint was not just a colleague; he was Tommy's role model, someone he looked up to with admiration.
"Sir, are you okay?" Tommy asked, his voice thick with concern.Saint struggled to find his words, his mind reeling with the sudden flood of memories and emotions.
"It... it was the day my father died... in a... in a car accident too."
