To the end

05

The Idol and the Broken Heart

Ken’s hands trembled as he stared at the patient sheet. His eyes zeroed in on the name:

Kimhan Theerapayankhun

His heart skipped a beat. Wik... The name he had idolized for years, the voice that once filled his room and his soul with hope and music. The name that held memories of a time when Ken was just a teen, hopelessly infatuated with someone who seemed untouchable, someone who represented perfection in a world full of chaos.

Ken could still remember those days vividly, as if they were yesterday. He was barely a teenager, lost in his own world, but Wik had been his escape. The music, the passion, the voice—Wik was more than just a musician to Ken. He was a god, an untouchable star that lit up his darkest days.

Ken would never miss a single chance to see Wik perform, even from afar. He would stand in crowded arenas or watch live broadcasts, soaking in every note, every word. The way Wik moved, the way he sang, it was like he was singing directly to Ken. And in those moments, Ken believed that maybe, just maybe, Wik knew he existed.

But it was just a one-sided love, a foolish dream. Ken knew better than to get too close, to reveal his feelings. What was he, after all? Just another fan in the sea of people who adored Wik. There was no way someone like Wik would ever notice someone like him.

But that didn’t stop the feelings from growing. Every song, every interview, every glimpse of Wik felt like a connection, even if it was imaginary. Ken’s heart ached with the intensity of it, but he never dared to approach, never dared to confess what he felt.

Then, one day, everything shattered.

The breaking news came like a storm. It was everywhere: Wik was quitting the music industry. He was stepping away from the spotlight, leaving the stage behind. Ken's heart plummeted as he read the articles, watched the reports. Wik was leaving music to focus on his family, to build a life with the love of his life. And to top it all off, he had kids to take care of.

Ken was crushed. His world felt like it was collapsing in on itself. He cried for a week, unable to process the news. It wasn’t just that Wik was leaving music—it was the reality that Wik had built a life that didn’t include him, that could never include him. The dream was over, and Ken had to let go.

He did. Or at least, he thought he did.

Years passed, and Ken became a professional therapist, dedicating himself to helping others. But he never forgot Wik. The name still held weight in his heart, even if the wound had mostly healed.

And now, here he was, staring at the patient sheet in disbelief. Kimhan Theerapayankhun was Wik. His Wik.

The memories flooded back, and Ken’s breath hitched. How could this be happening? The man who had unknowingly held Ken’s heart for so long was now in his care, broken, needing help. Ken had spent so long idolizing Wik, but this... this was different.

His idol was no longer the untouchable god he once believed him to be. Wik was human, just like everyone else, and now, he was in need of help. And it was Ken’s job to offer that help, to be there for him—not as a fan, but as a professional, as someone who could guide him through the darkness.

Ken took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. The past couldn’t interfere with this. He had to put his feelings aside, no matter how hard it was. Kimhan—Wik—needed him now more than ever. This wasn’t about old crushes or broken hearts. This was about saving a life.