"Make up your mind first... I will have my whole life to prove to you."
Arthit smiled. "Are we taking the car, or am I following your bike , Kongpob?"
"Let's take the car," Kongpob decided.
Arthit's smile broadened. "Great. Hop in. Jeet will follow us on your bike."
"Any music preference?" Arthit asked, taking charge of steering wheel.
"Maybe something slow and soothing."
"Okay." Arthit nodded and chose a slow Bollywood Hindi song called "Raabta" (Connection/Relation).
Inside the car, the silence was comforting, filled with the gentle tune of "Raabta."
Kehte hain khuda ne is jahan me sabhi ke liye
Kisi na kisi ko Hai banaya Har kisi ke liye
Tera milna Hai us rab ka ishara Mano
Mujh ko banaya tere raise hi Kisi ke liye...
(They say that in this world, God has made someone for everyone,
That for every person, there's someone special made.
Your coming into my life is a sign from the Almighty, believe me,
That I was made just for you.)
Arthit started humming along while Kongpob silently listened.
"You have a good voice," Kongpob commented. "Have you tried singing in college?"
Arthit shook his head. "No... I was a drummer. I was part of a band-Six Men."
"Six Men?" Kongpob chuckled. "And let me guess... there were six men in it?"
"Five, actually. The last member was a girl who joined later when one of our vocalists transferred to another school. The band's name vexed her to no end."
"Cool! Drummer, huh? You must have been very popular among omegas."
"I was... kind of. It made my life hard though..."
"How?"
Arthit gripped the steering wheel tight "It became hard to find someone genuine. The people who wanted to really connect with me saw me as an alpha far out of their league. Those around me didn't want permanence. They got bored as son as novelty wore out."
"Fame can be hard, huh?" Kongpob mused. "I never thought of it that way. But if you were in my college, I'd have been intimidated to approach you, too."
"Why?"Arthit turned to Kong, curious " I assure you, I was known as quite approachable person during college."
Kongpob chuckled. "Straight-A student and a drummer-muse of hundreds. What could I compare to that?"
"But relationships aren't transactions. They can't be weighed on a scale for equality or balance."
"You're right. But your fans would have made my life hell... thanks but no thanks."
"That's the thing. How could someone claim to love another and then take away the things and people they want the most? The privacy, their love? Isn't love about giving? Nurturing?" Arthit's frustrations seeped out .
"It should be... " Kong agreed "but it's seldom is in practicality. That's why true love is rare."
"I left music because of that."
"Because of what?"
"Fake love from so-called fans. Of course, there were genuine fans, but the so-called well-wishers overshadowed them. I wanted to connect with people. What's the use if it only made me distant from them? I haven't touched a drum since my sophomore year. I sometimes hum, but that's it."
"You should take up music again," Kongpob suggested. "For yourself. It obviously makes you happy."
"Maybe... I'll play again... " Arthit turned his head to look at Kongpob "for my husband or probably to teach my kid."
