Starstruck on You [Mile x Apo] [MileApo]

Chapter 8: Banana Oatmeal & Rainy Days

A relationship, a commitment, a boyfriend; it was the last ideal to cross through his mind.

Mile vehemently, publicly and privately, explained to anyone who bent their ear in his direction that he would never have one. His career having just taken off, the Green Roses about to begin tour, a relationship would only prove to be a complication in his grand scheme of things, a future that he envisioned being a gallivanting guitarist that harbored a fling in each city. The ability to linger around freely, plant his flag, a sweet reminder of an encounter that he could tell his grandchildren to one day when he regaled his tales of fame, fortune, and success.

He knew he mother would chide him for such coarse musings, always told him that the key to true success and happiness was not in recognition, beauty, or wealth – all of it would deteriorate with time, chipped away by the hardened tools of life – love, a clichéd notion, would stay forever. It often came coupled with a sweet glance over to his father who beamed in his chipper way, a shared kiss that he and his brother would mock-gag over, resulting in a smack to his arm at their teasing, yet all smiles.

It was not that he wasn't loved. Love was relative to interpretation. He didn't lack any of it. Except he did.

The relationships that he notched to his belt lacked significantly in substance, maturity, or even a good experience to speak of. Even sexually. He took pride in being able to say he had enough of it to know what he liked, what he desired, his type, and sought it on the regular.

However...his recent involvement with Apo Nattawin Wattanagitiphat ... it pushed any semblance of standards he thought he knew out of the window of a 30-story building, crashed, and exploded. No one compared.

It was as if Apo was created to shatter every expectation with his mere existence. It started that night at the fan meet. The month-long dry spell. The concert. The accumulation of sexual tension between the pair of them could create a bomb that self-imploded at how intensely they both carried a match to light it. If anyone asked him, he wouldn't claim to have fallen first, even if he had. Decha knew it, his bandmates, fuck if his parents didn't know it.

He recalled a conversation he had with his mother two days before their date, a phone call he strived to make every other week to catch up on his life in the city, check on everyone's health, etcetera. That was the first time it slipped out, after his mother asked if he finally found someone interesting, a quirk of his lips as he answered with a resounding 'yes'. Her breathing increased, his heart palpitated, both of them rendered speechless at his own admission. The silence readily noticed on the phone call.

"Mile—"

"Love you, bye!"

Before he could further explain or dive into an unknown, he was uncertain of, he hung up. She hadn't called him back, only sent a cryptic text of "tell me more about him next time". What was there to tell? That he fell in love like a fairytale character that was dazzled by someone who clearly was revolted by him? He swallowed the disgust down at himself. Admonished that the thought of 'love' even crossed his mind. No, it was lust, that was the delusion Mile stuck to – in the beginning. The powerful hatred reflected in a pair of tiger eyes, he only wanted to drown in them.

Had he known that the concert itself would become a trigger to propelled them forward into other events he had not anticipated? The thrilling sensation of liberty to not have to put up walls of falsehood, it was impossible to board up the hole after Apo had seen that ugly side Mile always strived to keep locked away. It was a side that held the scandal that nearly toppled their musical empire to bits from his immaturity.

That was what it was. The scandal. His ex, an upcoming model from the same producer that promoted the band, got tangled with him yet left a terrible taste on his tongue as they got involved with the producing studio owner, claimed that he, Mile, had come onto him. It ended their contract, their promise of a future, let his bandmates down before a blessing in disguise came from another production company that picked up their label, produced them, the rest history. It left him emotionally drained, scarred, as well as traumatized to entertain the thought of trying again. In lament's terms, it made him a coward to try again. To open his heart to disappointment, to have to pretend to care again for someone who would not reciprocate his feelings, it was exhausting and the risk too impractical.