PERFECT SEASON

Chapter 2

The cacophony of Bangkok buzzed outside as Win sat in his hotel room, the city's energy clashing with the heaviness in his heart. He had chosen a small, upscale hotel near the Chao Phraya River, hoping the tranquil views would offer him a semblance of peace. But tranquility felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by the grief that lingered over him like a dark cloud.

Win stared out the window, watching the boats glide over the river's surface, their wakes creating ripples that seemed to mock his inner turmoil. Despite the vibrant life outside, he felt utterly detached, trapped in a world colored by loss. The phone rang, jolting him from his reverie. It was Saint, checking in to see how he was holding up.

"Hey, how are you doing?" Saint's voice was warm and familiar.

"I'm managing," Win replied, forcing a smile that he knew his friend could hear through the phone. "Just trying to adjust."

"Listen, I have an idea. Why don't we go out for dinner? There's a new place I've been wanting to try. It'll be good to get some fresh air and be around people."

Win hesitated, the thought of socializing felt daunting. "I don't know, Saint. I'm not really in the mood to be around a crowd."

"Come on, it's just dinner. Plus, I'll be there. We'll keep it low-key. Just a couple of laughs to lighten the mood."

After a moment's pause, Win finally relented. "Okay, fine. But just for a little while."

As they made plans, Win's thoughts drifted. He couldn't help but recall the myriad of flashing cameras and probing questions from the airport. He knew the media would be eager for a story, and he didn't want to give them any more ammunition. Still, the weight of isolation was too heavy to bear alone.

Later that evening, Win met Saint at a trendy restaurant adorned with vibrant decorations and the tantalizing aroma of Thai cuisine wafting through the air. The atmosphere was lively, filled with laughter and chatter that felt foreign to him. As they settled into their seats, Win tried to focus on the menu, but his mind kept drifting back to Amanda and Josh, the empty chairs at the table of his life.

"See? This isn't so bad," Saint said, breaking through Win's melancholy. "We just need to take it one step at a time."

Win offered a small smile, appreciating his friend's efforts to lift his spirits. As they ordered, he felt the heaviness in his heart lift slightly, the warmth of camaraderie a welcome distraction.

But as the evening progressed, his tranquility shattered. A sudden commotion erupted nearby, drawing his attention. He turned to see a group of people at a nearby table, their voices rising in excitement. Among them was a striking man with sharp features and an air of confidence that instantly captured Win's attention. Bright Vicharawit—self-made billionaire, owner of the high-end clothing brand MACY, and one of the most sought-after figures in the fashion world.

Win had seen Bright's face countless times in magazines and advertisements, often portraying an image of unattainable perfection. But in this moment, Bright was far from perfect; he was embroiled in a heated discussion with a few industry acquaintances, his frustration palpable.

"Is that really him?" Win muttered, recognizing the tension radiating from Bright's presence.

"Looks like it," Saint replied, glancing over. "He's a bit of a legend in the business world, isn't he?"

"Legend or not, he seems to be having a rough night," Win said, observing as Bright ran a hand through his dark hair, visibly agitated.

As Win watched, a sense of curiosity mixed with caution welled up within him. Bright's reputation for being cold and aloof preceded him, and Win had heard stories of his sharp tongue and dismissive attitude toward those he deemed beneath him. Yet, there was something humanizing about the frustration on Bright's face.