Khao had been gone for three weeks, a self-imposed exile fueled by the relentless memories of his past mistakes. The weight of his guilt was crushing; he had inflicted pain on everyone he held dear. First was likely battling for his life in a hospital bed, while Podd was enduring his first experience behind bars— both consequences of Khao's actions.
He still carried the sting of their expressions: his parents' faces etched with disappointment, particularly his father's. His mother had withdrawn into a cold silence, another instance where he’d failed her. And his father, the steadfast protector and support, had never anticipated Khao would make such grave errors. What cut deepest was the unwavering presence of his dad, who, despite everything, continued to check on him and provide meals.
Shame had driven Khao into isolation, barricading himself in his bedroom, unwilling to face the world. His brother, Sea, reached out with genuine concern, but Khao had pushed him away. He felt undeserving of such empathy, especially from Sea, the family's paragon of success.
Even the harsh words from Mix still resonated, a painful echo of his failures: "You had a choice, Khao! You could have persevered in your job search instead of resorting to what you did. I'm incredibly disappointed in you... You're my best friend, and so is Podd."
The knowledge that life moved on, regardless of his actions, was a bitter pill to swallow. Yet, amidst the turmoil, a truth surfaced: Khao was undeniably in love with First Kanaphan Puitrakul. This realization, this undeniable pull, became his motivation. He pulled on his hoodie and black pants, aiming for anonymity as he finally stepped out of his self-imposed prison.
◑◑◑
Khao’s heart hammered against his ribs as he finally slipped out of his room. The familiar murmur of his parents' voices drifted from the kitchen, a comforting melody that was, tonight, laced with pain. He knew they were probably talking about him, about the mess he’d created. He pulled his hoodie tighter, the darkness of the fabric a welcome shield against the shame that clung to him like a second skin.
He needed to see First. The thought was a beacon, a desperate pull in the storm of his guilt. He navigated the familiar hallways of his home, careful not to make a sound, and slipped out into the cool night air. The city lights seemed dull, mirroring the muted state of his heart. He didn’t take a car, choosing to walk, each step a penance for the choices he’d made.
The hospital loomed large, a sterile white giant against the night sky. He moved through its automatic doors, the low hum of the building a stark contrast to the chaotic silence within him. He finally found First's room, the nameplate a stark reminder of his own culpability. He hesitated, hand hovering over the doorknob, before finally pushing it open.
First was propped up on pillows, a faint smile touching his lips when he saw Khao. His face was still a little pale, but his eyes, those captivating eyes that had drawn Khao in, were brighter now.
"Khao," First’s voice was soft, a gentle caress on his raw nerves.
Khao closed the door softly behind him and moved to the chair by his bedside. “First… I… I’m so sorry.” His voice was thick with emotion, the words a barely audible whisper.
First reached out, his fingers finding Khao's hand, his touch sending shivers of warmth that belied the coldness inside Khao. “It's okay. It wasn't all you, Khao. I… I was part of it too.”
Khao's eyes welled up. "But… I put you in danger. I… I've hurt everyone."
“It’s done, Khao,” First said softly, his thumb tracing circles on the back of Khao’s hand. “It happened. But look, I'm here, I’m recovering. And you're here. That’s what matters now— the future matters more. We need to look at it.” He paused, searching Khao's eyes. "And... we hurt Podd, didn't we?"
