In Lines Of Love ~ Kimchay

43. Happy fucking valentines ( pt6 )

Kim was gone.

No trace. No updates on his official WIK handles.

Just vanished into silence.

Once again.

It had been a month since Porchay had last seen him, That final moment burned into his memory.

Kim’s face was twisted with fury, yet beneath it, something raw and unspoken lingered. Guilt? Love? Pain? Whatever it was, it didn’t matter anymore.

Because Kim was gone.

And Porchay… Porchay was still here.

Dealing with his own Darn Buisness like he intended. Sucks to be him.

Meanwhile, Kinn and Tankhun had been worried, though they never voiced it outright.

He remembered one quiet dinner without Korn talking about Buisness or new meeting anything, odd.

The kind of dinner that stretched long, filled with the sound of Fancy silverware against plates but nothing else.

"He’s rebelling," Korn had said, cutting into his steak. "Teenage attitude. He’ll be back."

"He’s not a teenager anymore," Tankhun muttered, picking at his food. "He’s twenty-three, Dad. If this is just ‘rebellion,’ then he’s been rebelling his whole damn life."

Korn didn’t respond. Kinn looked uncomfortable.

Porchay and Porsche just kept eating.

Because they knew better.

All things happened here told by gaurds maids and Korn himself.

Kim used to do this—disappear for days, return colder than before.

No greetings, no glances, no explanations.

"You think he’ll come back this time?" Kinn had asked him later, voice low, uncertain.

They believed what they wanted to believe. Because even when Kim was present, he was barely there. Tankhun and Kinn's Conversations were met with clipped replies, a sharp tone, and nothing more from him.
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Now, Porchay sat in the farthest, darkest corner of his university classroom, head resting against his knuckles, lazily spinning his pen between his fingers.

Business studies. The most mind-numbing course he could’ve chosen.

The professor droned on, the words melting into the background. It wasn’t music. It wasn’t what he loved.

"Why the change?" Kinn had asked, frowning at Porchay’s updated form.

Porchay had forced a smile, the kind that made people stop asking questions. "Business will help me and my hia in the future."

Kinn had studied him for a long moment before sighing. "If that’s what you want."

Another lie. Another truth twisted just enough to pass.

The real reason?

Music didn’t feel the same anymore. Not after Kim.

The man had commanded his heart, played it like a song he never planned to finish. Then he left. No closure. No apology.

And now, the fire was gone.

His classmates kept their distance. A rich kid who got into the course late? Must’ve pulled strings. Must have connections.

He heard the whispers.

"Who even is he?"
"Some spoiled brat."
"Another rich kid who doesn’t even have to try."