TO SHOU WITH LOVE

23 - LIKE THIS?

After leaving the stage, the winning band of the PK returned to the rest area, gathering in small groups to chat.

According to the show’s regulations, the bands needed to wait in the rest area for the staff to introduce the rules for the next round of the competition.

The rest area was quite noisy, and Thanapon went outside alone to catch some fresh air.

Originally, he intended to smoke a cigarette, but as he lit it, he suddenly remembered Sailub’s words, “Thanapon, don’t smoke anymore.”

So he watched the cigarette burn down between his fingers without taking a puff.

Even he couldn’t explain why.

Back in the rest area, Sammy was still sitting in her original spot, while Topten took on the role of Asperatus’ diplomat, engaging fervently with members of other bands as if they were old friends.

Sitting in the seat opposite to his original spot was a musician from a band he didn’t recognize—besides the bands they had competed against, Thanapon didn’t remember much about the others.

He walked over and sat down across from them.

His phone buzzed, and he took it out to see a message from Sailub: “Thanapon, don’t rush off, need to talk to you.”

He typed out a simple “Okay” in response.

Initially, he had thought of telling Topten that he was leaving first, but now, Thanaponi leaned back in his chair and thought, 'forget it, I’ll wait a while longer. It should be ending soon.
It was really noisy here.'

He plugged in his earphones and absentmindedly opened his music app, scrolling through today’s recommended playlist.

He scrolled through it without finding any songs of interest.

He aimlessly browsed through the music app, and then, when he saw the name “Sailub Hemmawich,” his finger paused for a moment.

After a few seconds, he clicked on the song.

The noise from the conversation between the musician opposite him and Sammy seeped through his earphones,p “So you wrote such a powerful melody for ‘Daytime Roar’? That’s impressive, girl, your style is wild enough.”

Sammy, who was texting on her phone, lifted her head at the remark.

She smiled politely but distantly at the musician, not saying anything.

“Oh, by the way, you should know me, Boun from Urban Collapse,”
Boun reached out his hand to Sammy, “like you, a bassist.”

His hand extended, but Sammy didn’t shake it, only saying “Hello” and asking, “Do you need something from me?”

“Hey, can our band collaborate with you in the future?” Boun withdrew his hand from the air, feeling no embarrassment. “We all really like your style.”

“Our band hasn’t ventured into this business,” Sammy said, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not about making an appointment with your band, it’s just with you. Your band won’t be so strict with you, right? Can’t you take on private gigs?”

“I’m not very interested, sorry,” Sammy said, smiling coldly, then she brightened her phone screen and continued to reply to messages.

She had thought she had made it clear that she didn’t want to continue this conversation, but the other party was still persistent.

“Who are you texting, your boyfriend?”

Sammy actually wanted to get up and leave directly, but that wouldn’t be very polite, so she restrained herself, just furrowing her brow without saying anything.