HE, HIM, AND US (Complete ✅)

What is up with Tay Tawan?

Rest days are New Thitipoom's favorites. He gets to catch up on all his favorite shows and lurk on the internet. Munch on sweets his fans send him despite his asking them not to. Reply to all the messages he has allowed to pile up throughout the week. And the best part of it all is that he gets to do these things in his underwear.

He peels back one eyelid and squints at his alarm clock. 8 o'clock it says. Dammit. He had hoped to sleep till 11 am. His internal clock has unfortunately adjusted to the early hours. He shuts the eye back, burrowing his head under his mountain of pillows. He stays there for a minute or two. When he realizes he is not going to get any more sleep, he rises with a groan.

He scratches the itch on his left arm as he trudges to the bathroom. He makes quick work of brushing his teeth. He takes longer in the shower, letting the hot water scald his back. It has been a long and busy week.

He rubs one out for the culture, naturally. He's a grown-ass man with grown-ass problems. That includes his morning wood, thank you very much. That problem is easily solved with one person in his mind. Then he exits the bathroom feeling much lighter than when he went in.

There are four missed calls from his manager, Jack, and a message from Singto. New's brows cave in. He cannot remember when he last communicated with Singto. His concern now however is his manager calling him on a free day. He decides to deal with Singto later. If P'Jack broke his own rule to contact him on a rest day, it must be urgent. He calls his number.

"Hello New," Jack calls. His voice is muffled, like he has something in his mouth.

"P'Jack, good morning. What's up?"

"Just calling to remind you of the Taobao live at 11."

New stops drying his hair for a second, "Wait. I thought today was my free day."

"No, it isn't. Check your calendar again."

New walks to the wall where he has his calendar marked with his programs for each day. 22nd December is marked with Taobao mistine live. "Shoot! It escaped me. Thanks, P'Jack." Thank goodness he didn't sleep till 11!

P'Jack is laughing, "No problem. That's what I'm here for. Be there before 10 for makeup and a run-through."

"Sure"

"Hope you've memorized your script. I sent you a soft copy yesterday."

"Um," he rubs the back of his neck, "sure. I have."

"The colors are white and blue."

"Thank you. See you soon."

New leans his forehead against the cold wall. He's never been this slipshod about work. He beats himself up for the carelessness for a few seconds, then goes through his contacts to call Tay.

He doesn't find the number. He doesn't find Tay on Line either. Strange. He shrugs it off. Maybe there is a glitch in the App.

The next thirty minutes are dedicated to dressing up and finding something white and blue in his wardrobe. He is on the road by ten minutes past nine.

New parks his car beside a black van in the parking lot. He would usually ride the elevator straight up to the 30th floor but he makes a detour to the lobby to grab a juice from the stand outside—his clothes hidden in a garment bag over his shoulder. He did not find the time to eat anything today. So much for eating his weight in candy.

He seldom pays mind to the pillars in the lobby unless it's a project for him but something peculiar grabs his attention.

It is Tay and Gun on a pillar. TOGETHER. He stops abruptly. His brown Oxfords skid on the smooth tiles. He almost plants his face to the ground. Luckily, he catches himself. He peers around hoping nobody caught him looking ridiculous. He knows they did.