Autumn is a second spring

144. Arrest

Atom slumped into the chair beside Poom, who was flipping through a medical journal. The office they shared with Linlalin and a few other doctors was unusually quiet that afternoon. Only the faint hum of the air conditioner and the occasional page turn broke the silence.

"I don't know if Khun Natouch not being the hospital director anymore is a good thing or not," Atom said, leaning back and sighing.

Poom didn't look up right away. "Why do you say that?"

Before Atom could answer, the door opened, and Linlalin stepped in, her white coat draped neatly over her shoulders. Her eyes flicked briefly to the two men before she spoke.

"Of course it's a good thing," she said sharply. "Someone like him shouldn't have been hospital director in the first place. He doesn't even have a medical background."

Atom grinned, sensing a spark. "Ooh, I smell jealousy."

Linlalin froze for a second, then scoffed. "Jealous? Of a lousy entertainer like him? Don't be ridiculous."

But her pulse ticked faster. Even saying his name—Fluke—made something burn under her ribs. She turned away, pretending to tidy the stack of reports on her desk, but her mind replayed the concert night like a film she couldn't turn off. The fans' voices, the lights, the screams—Ohm and Fluke look so good together! They are made for each other! She hadn't slept that night. The noise had followed her home.

She had told herself it was curiosity when she searched for their names online. But every photo she found—every clip of Ohm looking at Fluke with that quiet tenderness—had felt like a blade twisting slowly. He never looked at me like that, she had thought. Not once.

Poom finally set the journal down. "That's a pretty rude thing to say," he said evenly. "Khun Natouch did a wonderful job as director. Just because he is from the entertainment industry doesn't mean you should look down on him."

Linlalin's grip on the papers tightened. "So now you're taking his side too?" Her voice cracked slightly before hardening again. "He is just—he is not even—" She let out a frustrated breath. "That gay guy. He probably turned Ohm gay too."

Atom laughed, more out of disbelief than humor. "Wait—that's why P' Ohm rejected you? Oh man, that's—"

"Shut up, Atom!" Linlalin snapped, slamming the papers onto the desk. The sound echoed across the small office. Her face flushed red. "It's not funny."

Poom turned in his chair to face her fully. "Who told you he is gay?"

"I don't need anyone to tell me," she shot back. "I can see it. Look at the way he dresses, how he performs—he practically flaunts it."

"Lin," Poom said quietly, "dressing in a feminine way doesn't make someone gay. And not all men who mix feminine fashion into their style are."

Linlalin crossed her arms. "Ohm is gay. You can't tell me otherwise." Her tone dripped with hostility she could no longer disguise.

"What's wrong with being gay?" Poom asked, his expression unreadable. "Because I am. Always have been. Never hid it. Plus, I don't dress in a feminine way as well. I just didn't realize my best friend was this homophobic."

The words hung in the air like smoke. Atom looked between them, unsure whether to intervene. Linlalin's mouth opened, then closed again. For a moment, the bitterness in her eyes faltered into something uncertain—then hardened again.

Before she could speak, the office door swung open. The sudden movement startled everyone. A group of uniformed police officers stepped inside. The one in front, a tall man with a calm but firm expression, looked directly at Linlalin.