Purple Rain

Because The Night Belongs To Lovers

"Take me now, baby, here as I am
Pull me close, try and understand
Desire is hunger, is the fire I breathe
Love is a banquet on which we feed"

Ray was known to be the life of the party. It was his duty after all as the child of an actress and a CEO to fulfill the role of a spoiled rich brat. No one could party or spend more money than him.

If he could, why shouldn't he?

He just wanted to enjoy his life to the fullest. Even if that meant drinking till he forgets his trauma and waking up in the unknown places.

Unknown places such as this.

Ray blinked against the sunlight filtering through the curtains, the unfamiliar room coming into focus slowly. His head throbbed from the previous night's drinking.

As much as he loved the feeling of being drunk he hated the feeling of hangover the most. The next morning would often be a pain in the ass for him. Most of the time not even the good kind, which he would gladly welcome.

The bed he woke up in has been soft. It was a sign of luxury. He would know. The young man had a similar one at home.

A mansion in the center of Phuket is covered in white marble and gold. His mother loved over-the-top furniture. Ray would call it kitsch more than luxury.

But since his mother was no longer alive his father had a hard time parting with the things she left behind.

Not Ray though.

His father easily gave up on trying to hold what remained of their family together. It wasn't like they were actually a family before. In the public eye, they were the dream of what a perfect and wealthy family should look like.

However, the actual picture was a million times different.

The trauma his mother bestowed on him never quite left Ray. During the day he could still pretend to be a normal economics student who would hang out with his friends Mew, Cheum, and Boston. But when the nighttime came the whole facade would melt away and Ray had to have himself let go.

He didn't do drugs. Those had a bad effect on him. He did, however, drink. It was what his mother loved to do the most after all.

'He could stop anytime he wanted to.' Ray would often tell himself.

Easier said than done.

So it wasn't a complete surprise when he woke up in a soft bed dressed only in white silk sheets.

"It must've been some night." He mumbled to himself as he slowly stretched his lean body. There was a tingling sensation in his lower back.

That solved one mystery.

And as he pushed himself up from the bed, the events of the night before came rushing back. He remembered the pulsating music, the electric energy of the club, and the intoxicating charm of the man whose name he now struggled to recall.

Ray glanced over at the other side of the bed, but it was empty.

That wasn't out of the ordinary either. He would often wake up with his partners gone. They must've known he was a hassle the morning after.

Most of the time he didn't care about it but sometimes he longed for the comfort that the other person would so freely offer the night before.

He would always joke with his friends that there was no loneliest person than him. They would just laugh and he too accepted it as a joke. But to him, it was very real.

Ray yearned for a connection. One based on his heart and not money.

It was his fault sadly... He gave people enough trouble to deal with now imagine adding trauma to that.