Journey (PONDPHUWIN)

Chapter 15: The Gilded Cage

The day of Pond's wedding came and went with all the grandeur expected of such an event. The media buzzed with news of the union, and Pond's position in society solidified as he married into a powerful family. The ceremony was lavish, attended by the city's elite, and meticulously documented by the press. But amidst the celebrations, there was one person who was conspicuously absent: Phuwin.

Phuwin had been confined to Pond's estate, as he had been for months. He had watched from a distance as the man who claimed to care for him publicly vowed to spend his life with someone else. But Phuwin was no longer surprised by the contradictions in Pond's actions. He had long since resigned himself to his place in Pond's world—a place that was both integral and invisible.

Days turned into weeks after the wedding, and Phuwin's life settled into a monotonous routine. The estate was vast, filled with every luxury imaginable, but to Phuwin, it felt more like a gilded cage. His days were spent in solitude, wandering the expansive grounds, reading, or simply staring out the windows at the world he could no longer touch.

Pond visited frequently, though his visits had become increasingly erratic since the marriage. He would come late at night, slipping into Phuwin's room like a thief in the dark. Their encounters were a mixture of possessive intensity and chilling detachment. Pond's touch was both a reminder of his control and a demand for something more—a twisted form of affection that left Phuwin feeling hollow.

Phuwin did his best to keep his emotions in check during these encounters, but the isolation weighed heavily on him. The only relief from the oppressive loneliness came from his interactions with the estate staff, particularly one of the maids, a young woman named Nan.

Nan was kind and soft-spoken, with a warm smile that cut through the coldness of the estate. She had been working for Pond's family for years and had known Phuwin from the time he started staying at the estate. Unlike the other staff, who kept a respectful distance, Nan made an effort to talk to Phuwin, to bring him small comforts—a cup of tea, a book she thought he might like, or just a few minutes of conversation.

At first, Phuwin was hesitant to get close to Nan. He knew that Pond's control extended beyond just physical presence; it was in every aspect of his life, including the relationships he was allowed to form. But as the days passed, he found himself looking forward to Nan's visits. She was a lifeline, a connection to the outside world, and the only person who treated him like a human being rather than a possession.

Their conversations were simple, often about the weather, a book they had both read, or a show Nan had watched on television. But these moments became the highlight of Phuwin's days, a brief escape from the crushing weight of his reality. Nan's presence was a balm to his wounded soul, and slowly, Phuwin began to open up to her, sharing small pieces of his life, though never the full truth.

However, what began as innocent companionship soon drew Pond's attention.

It started subtly. Pond would mention Nan in passing during his visits, his tone casual but with an edge that made Phuwin's heart skip a beat. "I hear you've been spending a lot of time with the staff," he would say, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched for Phuwin's reaction.

Phuwin would shrug it off, trying to keep his voice steady. "She's just being kind. It gets lonely here."

But Pond's casual comments soon turned into pointed questions. "You seem to enjoy her company," Pond remarked one night, his tone cold. "More than you should."

Phuwin tensed, sensing the jealousy simmering beneath Pond's words. "She's just a friend," he replied carefully. "That's all."

Pond's gaze darkened, his expression hardening. "I don't like you getting close to other people, Phuwin. You know that."