Tiwa has to concentrate, but he feels stuck. Sticking between a rock, a hard place, and the unrelenting mass of energy and fire known as Pravat Hiranwong. He is unsure of how to proceed, as a lot has occurred in such a brief period of time. Frustrated, he tugs at his hair and attempts to focus on rehearsal. Sunday is not too far off, and he not only risks his career but also his bandmates' well-being. And on top of that, it's the preview for their massive four-month tour—a significant deal!
However, he just can't seem to get his mind into it because all he can think about is the unexpected return of that crazy alpha into his life. Each moment with him replays in his head like a broken record, over and over again. It makes everything difficult, especially when he feels surrounded by him.
He attempts to focus on Decha's words, knowing they are crucial for the upcoming events, but they simply pass through one ear and out the other without eliciting a response. He grabs a pebble from the window and clenches his fist, staring at the back of his hand like a miracle and slipping back into the past.
The day had started well for Tiwa, with his first two classes being just like any other day. However, he had a feeling that the next class with Mr. Rungrueang would be interesting as they all made their way to the assembly hall.
Surveying the hall, he deliberately chose a seat in the front row to ensure he would be seen, and it also helped him resist the temptation to doze off, given his lingering sleepiness from the previous day.
He yawned and leaned on the desk, his gaze fixed on the door, hoping for the class to start soon before he succumbed to sleep. However, contrary to his expectations, nothing seemed to occur, so he straightened himself up and rubbed his eyes to ward off drowsiness.
He opened his notebook and wrote a header for his notes, hoping it would help him stay awake. He was very meticulous about how he wanted the class to go. Lost in his actions, he failed to notice someone standing in front of him, holding their fist out.
He was confused. He looked up, and his eyes met that same roguish smile from the lunatic Pravat. His heart was racing. "How? Why? What was this weird deviant guy doing here?!"
Pravat looked nothing different at any time, but Tiwa stared at him. His clothes were always a little loose on him, but he sure looked comfortable. His actual signature was the golden brown bleached hair since they met. He never explained to anyone where he'd gotten the idea from, but Tiwa thought it was something.
Tiwa opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He just stared at Pravat with his mouth agape. Eventually, he realized what a fool he would be, so he quickly averted his gaze, muttering under his breath.
He disregarded Pravat and continued writing on his note, hoping that the other boy would leave. However, that didn't happen. This irritated him, so he forcefully pushed away Pravat's hand and glared while asking, "What?"
Pravat smiled and extended his fist again, clearly having something on his mind. "Can you see something on it?"
Tiwa glanced at Pravat's fist and tried to find what the other was talking about. He found nothing, so he looked up and said, "No!" Even though he replied, he had a little doubt, so he looked back at Pravat's fist and wished to find something.
"No?! Just look at it carefully and say something," Pravat said, cocking his head to the side and winking casually.
Tiwa stared blankly for a few seconds, though it felt like an eternity. His face grew hotter, and his embarrassment was visible through his reddened cheeks. Swallowing nervously, he took a deep breath and reached out to grasp Pravat's hand in an attempt to unravel the mystery.
Still, he found nothing, so he got frustrated and threw Pravat's hand away. He tugged at his hair helplessly and shook his head. "Sorry. I found nothing different."
"Well, I also didn't find anything different… until you touched my hand," Pravat said with a laugh, breaking his poker face. "But after that, I suddenly felt my pulse quicken and butterflies in the pit of my stomach. What is it about you that makes my heart race?"
Tiwa looked confused for a moment, but his eyes slowly widened as he realized how close they were. There was a thread of space between them; their faces were mere inches apart. Startled, he shoved Pravat away and pointed a finger at him.
Tiwa snaps out of his thoughts when the pebble slips from his hand and rolls across the floor until it stops at someone's feet. He stares at the pebble for a few seconds and realizes the world has ceased its movement, just like himself.
His gaze shifts to the man's feet and slowly rises to examine the face. Fear grips him, threatening to take everything away, but he pushes those thoughts aside. "It shouldn't be him. It shouldn't be him. It's…" His heart skips a beat as he realizes that the tormentor from the past ten years is standing right in front of him. It's not a dream or an illusion; it's really him.
Jaran has no patience to let time dictate everything. He prefers to take matters into his own hands and make decisions quickly. He rushes toward Pravat to grab him by the jacket, slamming him against the wall. "Who let you in?!" He howls in rage, his eyes flashing with intense anger.
Once again, Tiwa can anticipate a brutal fight after ten years because the situation is out of control now. He steps forward, not necessarily because he's interrupted by a voice that startles him. "I am."
He is confused because his eyes have settled on Pravat the whole time since the alpha is invading, so he's sure it's not his words, but he can hear this voice very familiar somehow. He turns his head toward the door when Pravat smirks and gestures for him to watch.
Their band manager, Faisol Chaiwong, enters the room confidently, capturing everyone's attention. "I let him in," he announces, placing a hand on both alphas' chests and separating them. What a bizarre twist of fate! It is the first time he has done something without consulting anyone.
"Why?" Jaran asks through gritted teeth.
Feeling it's not a good sign, Tiwa holds Jaran's hand and nods at him, making him remember their deal. They don't want their bandmates to know about what's going on between them. Understanding, Jaran nods and squeezes his little brother's hand while trying to calm his nerves.
"Because I assist him for my use for the rest of the tour." Faisol throws a bomb on their heads without knowing anything. It seems like he doesn't sense the tense and charged atmosphere in the room as he defends the lunatic.
Jaran struggles to maintain his composure but finds himself unable to contain his desperation any longer. "You need to reconsider your decision," he hisses angrily.
"Why should I? I'm pretty curious!" Faisol admits. He doesn't smile or seem angry either; instead, he maintains a neutral and composed demeanor, like the perfect neutral manager. "He's a talented guy. I assist him for me, not you. If you have any problem, give me a single reason to throw him out, and I will."
Jaran clenches his fists and glares at Pravat before storming out of the room.
Tiwa understands why his brother chooses to leave instead of confronting the situation because Jaran prefers to handle things in a less aggressive way. Putting on a blank face as if nothing matters or he doesn't even care, Tiwa looks up.
"I think no." Faisol shrugs and pats Pravat's shoulder, waving a hand at him.
Tiwa glares at both of them frustrated that they are ruining the atmosphere because there is not much he can do. He no longer knows how to feel in such a complicated situation and shakes his head in exasperation, chasing after his brother, who is fleeing from the scene.