CHASING AFTER YOU ( VICE VERSA)

11

Phuwin's POV

The next few weeks were a blur of activity. Gemini's photography skills proved invaluable to Naravit's marketing campaigns, and Chimon's business acumen streamlined several processes. We were a well-oiled machine, three friends working in perfect harmony, alongside me. The pressure was on, but we were handling it well, a testament to our teamwork and friendship. My mornings usually started with a familiar routine: preparing Pond, our ever-calm CEO, his favorite dark roast coffee. It was a small gesture, but one he seemed to appreciate, and it gave me a quiet moment to myself before the office frenzy began.  Pond was particular; only my dark roast, brewed precisely to his specifications, would do.

It was Friday afternoon, and the air in the office crackled with the end-of-week energy. We were in the midst of a particularly intense project when Pond strolled in, his usual calm demeanor slightly ruffled.

"Phuwin, Chimon, Gemini," he announced, his voice firm. "There's a client who's expressed significant interest in your recent work.  They'd like a brief meeting."

He gestured towards the meeting room. "Please, join me now." He paused, a slight frown creasing his brow. "And Phuwin, could you please grab my coffee on your way? I seem to have misplaced mine.  You know, the usual – my special dark roast, made by you."

A wave of nervous excitement washed over us, mixed with a touch of amusement at Pond's reliance on my coffee-making skills. We exchanged quick, encouraging glances, a silent pact of support between us. As I headed to the coffee station, I noticed Gemini staring out the window, his usual bright demeanor replaced by a brooding silence. He seemed unusually pensive, his playful energy absent. The usual lighthearted banter between him and Chimon was noticeably missing.

"What's got your feathers ruffled, Gem?" Chimon teased, his voice low and playful, attempting to break the tension. "Did someone steal your favorite lens? Or is it something more... serious?"

Gemini didn't respond, only turning away, his shoulders slumped. I returned with Pond's dark roast, the rich aroma filling the air. Pond accepted it with a grateful nod, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

We followed Pond to the meeting room, my heart thumping a nervous rhythm against my ribs. The room was elegantly appointed, but the air felt thick with anticipation. Pond settled into the head of the table, and we took our seats, prepared for the client's arrival. We waited, the silence punctuated only by the soft hum of the air conditioning and Gemini's occasional, barely audible sigh.

After a few minutes, a knock sounded on the door. Pond rose to open it, and a gasp escaped my lips. Standing in the doorway, grinning from ear to ear, were Dunk and Joong.

"Surprise!" Dunk exclaimed, his voice echoing in the room. Joong, equally surprised, held up a box of pastries.

Gemini's jaw dropped. Chimon stared, speechless. Even Pond, who rarely showed surprise, looked momentarily taken aback before a slow smile spread across his face.  He was clearly as surprised as the rest of us.

"Well, this is unexpected," Pond chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I believe I owe you an explanation."

The tension of the impending "client meeting" dissolved into joyous chaos. The surprise was a resounding success. Dunk and Joong spent the rest of the afternoon with us, sharing stories, offering words of encouragement, and generally lifting our spirits, even Gemini's mood visibly lightening under their cheerful influence. The pastries were quickly devoured, and the air in the meeting room transformed from one of professional tension to one of relaxed camaraderie.  Chimon, ever the observant one, couldn't resist a final jab at Gemini.

"See, Gem?  A little surprise, and Phuwin's magic coffee, is all you needed to brighten your day," he teased, nudging Gemini playfully.

Gemini just grinned, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. It was a perfect ending to a perfect Friday. We were a team, a family. And we were going to be okay. The city lights blurred around me later that day, but my heart felt lighter, a sense of hope flickering within me. I was going to be okay. We were going to be okay.

ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥: 𝕓𝕒𝕣

Fragments.  Blurred images.  Music, loud and throbbing, a relentless pulse against the inside of my skull.  Laughter, echoing and distorted, like voices from a distant dream.  I remember flashes:  Dunk and Joong, their faces bright with surprise and joy.  Chimon, teasing, his laughter a sharp contrast to the dull ache behind my eyes.  Gemini, smiling, his usual spark somehow amplified by the celebratory atmosphere.  And Pond… Pond is everywhere, a hazy figure at the edges of my consciousness.

The bar… it was a kaleidoscope of swirling colors and flashing lights.  I remember the feeling of the music vibrating through my body, a physical sensation that overrode all rational thought.  Drinks… so many drinks.  Each one a slip further into oblivion, a descent into a hazy, intoxicating fog.  I remember the taste of something sweet and fruity, then something sharp and bitter.  The clinking of glasses, the murmur of conversations, all blending into a chaotic symphony of sound and sensation.

There are gaps, vast chasms of missing time.  Moments swallowed by the darkness, lost in the swirling vortex of alcohol and euphoria.  I remember snippets:  a hand on my back, warm and reassuring.  A laugh, shared, a moment of connection.  A touch, lingering, a brush of skin against skin.  But the details are elusive, like trying to grasp smoke.

Then there's Pond.  He's a recurring motif in my fragmented memories, a constant presence at the periphery of my awareness.  His face, sometimes clear, sometimes blurred, a beacon in the swirling fog.  His voice, a low murmur, sometimes teasing, sometimes serious, often lost in the cacophony of the party.  I remember the feeling of his hand on my arm, guiding me, pulling me closer.  The warmth of his body against mine, a comforting weight in the overwhelming chaos.

The party… it was wild.  Uninhibited.  A blur of dancing bodies, flashing lights, and unrestrained laughter.  A kaleidoscope of sensations, a symphony of sound and touch.  But the details are lost, swallowed by the relentless tide of alcohol.  The memories are fragmented, incomplete, like shattered pieces of a mirror reflecting a distorted reality.

I woke up the next morning with a splitting headache, my mouth dry and my body aching.  The events of the previous night were a jumbled mess, a chaotic tapestry woven from fragmented memories and hazy impressions.  I remember flashes of laughter, of dancing, of closeness… but the specifics are lost, buried under a thick layer of alcohol-induced amnesia.  The only clear memory is the overwhelming presence of Pond, a constant, comforting force amidst the swirling chaos.  But even that memory is tinged with uncertainty, clouded by the fog of my intoxicated state.  What happened last night?  I don't know.  I only know that I was wasted, and I have no recollection of the details.  The only certainty is the lingering ache in my head and the vague, unsettling feeling that something significant happened, something I can't quite grasp.