KongArt Week

KongArt Week 2022 - DAY 1. @mylovearthit

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Kongpob did not expect this to blow out of proportion, starting it off as an innocent act and yet he was still tangled in the web of complication. He slightly panics at the sound of three small knocks on his door, immediately closing his laptop and setting it down on the empty spot on his bed.

"Kongpob, you're out at 30. The makeup artist is waiting in the dressing room," M, his manager reminded him, peeking half of his body in the hotel room. Kongpob nodded at him quickly, composing himself and grabbing his small shoulder bag to carry it into the set.

The other staff greeted him as he walked to the designated room, it should be a breeze but he was still on the verge of fainting if he so much as to get a glance of him before he was ready. When would he be ready, you ask? Well, that would be marked as 'TBA' for now.

When he got to the dressing room, the other staff were finalizing his outfit, and the makeup artist went to work as M took his bag and left his phone with him; a standard practice every time he has a show. It was one of the best decisions he has ever done— hiring M. His friend, who is also a professional manager for other artists.

He is also one of the people who manage his reputation, which is also the main job of his PR, Oak, and if they knew what shit he got into on the internet right now, he would be good at dead six feet underground.

"Did you not get enough coffee, Kong? There's something wrong with you," M noted. Quietly instructed the makeup artist to make his tones warner and brighter, so as to cover up any remaining dark spots under his eye, or any stray acne marks on his skin. Singto quickly dismisses his comment, "It's nothing, M. I'll be okay."

"Well, your partner is ready in the other room, so pick up the pace."

And at the mention of the term, Kongpob freezes in his seat, causing the makeup artist to hum in delight at his cooperation. The man hoped no one could hear his frantic heartbeat as he continued to pace himself mentally, the gymnastics having a field day in his stomach.

He could do this, if not for himself, but for the fans, for his family, and for him.

"Five minutes," one of the stage managers informed him. He was now fully set on making this work, outfit perfectly styled, together with his hair and makeup. He heaved a breath, stretching his fingers, and craning his neck. It was good timing that most of the staff were already out, scattered around the stage.

Kongpob has the script memorized to perfection, the flow already rehearsed, and the possible improvisations he could do during the actual program. Smiling, he opened the door to see that there was another person in front of him, mid-way to knocking on the already opened door.

Of course, it had to be him.

"Kong."

"Hello, P'Arthit."

Damn it. Talk about casual. Kongpob kept his smile, careful not to let it slip and destroy his cam facade. He almost felt like the ground was crumbling beneath him as Arthit sported a smile of his own, gently reaching down and tugging his hand to guide them toward the set, an indication that they were in a hurry.

Kongpob wanted to die then and there, but his heart was telling him to live because his hand is now in Arthit's and everything would be okay. When they reached the stage, Arthit slowly dropped his hand as they were guided to make an entrance when they were called.

"And now for the hottest segment of this morning, here is Kongpob Sutthiluck and Arthit Rojnapat from Thailand's newest BL series, SOTUS!"

Kongpob sucked in a breath and plastered on another one of his smiles at the crown went wild. They were led to sit on a loveseat couch and Kongpob made sure Arthit was comfortable first before he got to take his own. The host, Matoom, was already looking very thrilled to see them.