When you look up the word "cliché" in the dictionary, you'll find that it means: unoriginal; an expression that lacks originality due to overuse; a frequently repeated banality. That doesn't sound very appealing, right? Yet when we talk about a clichéd love story, I'm sure that, at least once in your life, you've dreamed of living one or at least sighed while seeing or reading something like it—even if you would never admit it.
So, does that mean the story I'm about to tell you is a classic cliché romance? Well, I wouldn't say so, especially since the two people involved don't remotely resemble the typical couple in any common love story. They're quite unique, actually. But if we consider the emotions—the hearts racing from a mere glance, the words failing us when we try to express our feelings, and the sense of peace and completeness when in each other's presence—then it could be seen as a classic romance. But I promise, it won't be cliché. Let's start by introducing the first half of this equation.
Our protagonist is Wave, a typical young Thai man and a senior in Engineering. He has many friends, is highly sociable, and has a remarkable knack for excelling in every subject, consistently being the top student without fitting the stereotypical image of a nerd or prodigy.
Wave is the kind of person who prefers to bike to and from college on sunny days, claiming it's his way of getting daily exercise. The truth is, biking makes him feel freer, more in touch with nature, and less trapped by the chaos of the big city, with its cars and pollution. Wave is a nature lover, as odd as that may sound. However, on this particular day, even though it was sunny, he was in his car instead of on his bike. His alarm clock had done him the favor of not waking him up from a wonderful dream where he was on his fictional farm, taking care of his fictional chickens. And now, here he was, in the bustling city, surrounded by smog and noise, and of course, without any chickens.
"What a mess!" he grumbled as he rolled down the car window to get some fresh air amid the traffic jam. This was probably what he hated most about Bangkok. "Don't let the chaos get to you! You're better than this; stay calm as always."
This was a defining trait of our boy—he loved talking to himself. It had become such a habit that those close to him hardly noticed it anymore. With just a few words, he could calm himself, as if he were his own therapist. As soon as he spoke, a subtle smile replaced the irritation on his face.
"Finally, first in line! Come on, green light, come on…" he muttered excitedly, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he stared at the traffic light ahead.
When he saw the light turn green, he accelerated while still watching it closely. This made him lose sight of the front of the car, causing him to hit something metal that seemed lighter than the vehicle. Unable to identify what he had hit, he slammed on the brakes, unbuckled his seatbelt, and quickly got out of the car.
Running to the front, he saw a gray bicycle on the ground and a boy in his college uniform standing up, brushing dust off his dark pants. Before the guy could fully regain his balance, Wave grabbed him by the wrist and turned him toward him.
"Are you okay? I'm sorry, I didn't see you! Where does it hurt? You can't just get up like that!" Wave said, clearly worried as he noticed the other's pants were torn and there was some blood. Then he saw his face and realized he looked familiar. "Do I know you?"
Before he could get an answer, Wave was startled to see the guy pull away and stare at him with an unreadable expression, making Wave feel like he had crossed a line. He noticed a tattoo on the back of the stranger's neck that seemed familiar but he couldn't place. The young man also had a look that suggested he might not be fully Thai. Why couldn't he remember?
"Hey, answer me! Do I know you? Are you from the nearby Engineering College?" Wave asked, but the boy only gave him a brief glance, picked up his bike, and pedaled away quickly. "What's going on? This is so strange… He didn't answer me and might be hurt. Is he a foreigner who doesn't speak my language? But what if…"
Before he could finish his thoughts, the sound of car horns reminded him that he was blocking traffic.
"I'm leaving now! Calm down!" he shouted to the drivers behind him, then got back in his car and sped away. "What a chaotic day!"
He was running very late by the time he arrived for his afternoon appointment; the minor incident had delayed him even further. When he finally parked and rushed into a large auditorium in the city center, he breathlessly said to those present:
"Sorry, sorry, sorry! I'm late, I know, I know! I came by car today and you wouldn't believe how crowded Bangkok is." He explained as he took a seat in one of the front rows next to an older man. "Sorry, sorry, sorry!" he kept repeating, clasping his hands together in a gesture of respect.
At least twice a week, Wave attended meetings with the theater company in the city center. The group was made up of people from the Performing Arts faculty, professionals in the field, and beginners, making it a diverse community. Wave had joined the group as a child because his mother wanted him to get out of the house and try a new activity that didn't involve working in the garden to create his own vegetable patch. To everyone's surprise, he really loved acting. Despite his enjoyment of staying home and spending days in the woods, Wave was an outgoing and communicative person.
As he grew older, he chose not to pursue theater professionally and instead focused on the exact sciences. However, he continued to cultivate his acting hobby and his love for nature. Nowadays, he skillfully balanced his time between these pursuits and excelled in both. No one could figure out how he managed so many tasks without getting tired, but it seemed to come naturally to him. After acting in several plays and progressing from supporting roles to lead roles, Wave decided to explore the world behind the scenes. Over the past year, he had been concentrating on production, and that day he was excited to begin planning a new play as an assistant director. He was thrilled… and running late.
"You've already apologized too much, Wave! Since I've been living here in Bangkok, the city is always crowded. You never notice because you bike through the quietest routes," said the man beside him, looking unfazed by the delay.
This man was Marco, the director of the play and many others that the company had produced over the past few years. He was Italian and had lived in Thailand for at least twenty years. Despite all that time, he still had a charming and entertaining accent.
"And that's why I'm never late and always in a good mood! If I had to drive every day, I'd be completely depressed and fed up with life within a week," Wave said playfully. "Just like Jay!"
There were about twenty people in the auditorium—eighteen on stage and two in the seats—and everyone laughed at Wave's comment, except for a tall guy in the middle of the group. He was crossing his arms and glaring at Wave with noticeable anger. Jay had been with the company as long as Wave, but they were complete opposites, and not in a good way. Wave was lively, cheerful, friendly, and easygoing, while Jay had always been a bit stressed and aggressive, the kind of person who easily lost his temper when things didn't go as planned.
Initially, Wave had tried to befriend Jay, but over time, it became exhausting, so he let the guy take on the role of antagonist in his life. After all, if Wave was the protagonist, a story needs a good antagonist to keep things interesting, right? This motivated him to occasionally provoke Jay, not out of malice, but for pure entertainment and to fuel his personal narrative. At least he was committed to providing some entertainment for all of you, right? I, as the storyteller, can only be grateful for that.
"Wave, you really do enjoy a bit of teasing, don't you?" Marco whispered, glancing between the two.
"I couldn't resist, sorry!" Wave replied with a smile, and yes, he genuinely apologized.
"Everyone, everyone!" Marco interrupted as he noticed that Wave's teasing had dispersed the group. "I need everyone's full attention from now on." With Marco's call, everyone fell silent and looked at him, prompting a slight smile from him before he continued: "Today, we begin the production of the play I wrote and will be directing, titled 'Seven Warriors.' I'm really excited to start, and we have several months of hard work ahead of us before we can present it to the audience. This time, since it's a big production, I'll be relying on Wave to assist me with directing."
Upon hearing this, Wave smiled with satisfaction and was applauded by most of the people on stage, nearly all of whom were friends and colleagues from years past.
"I want to thank all of you and Marco for your trust!" Wave said, standing up and greeting everyone before sitting back down with a proud expression.
"But before we start any workshops, I have some news to share..." Marco began, looking worriedly at his phone and the door. "But it seems like the first piece of news has decided not to show up."
As Marco said this, a loud noise from the entrance drew everyone's attention to the back of the theater. A boy had rushed into the auditorium and quickly made his way down the stairs to the front of the stage. When he reached the row where Marco and Wave were, he lowered his head and clasped his hands in a gesture of apology:
"Dan! Finally, I thought you weren't coming!" Marco said to the boy, who was still catching his breath.
"I had an incident with my bike and..." he started in an extremely low tone but stopped when he noticed Wave.
Wave, in turn, felt his breath catch for a few seconds, surprised to see that the person in front of him was exactly the same one he had hit less than an hour ago. What were the odds of that happening? For a moment, Wave thought his life was being scripted in a very cliché way, and I know I promised you that wouldn't happen, right? But I promise again, it's just a huge coincidence.
"You! The bike guy!" Wave exclaimed excitedly. "I really didn't expect to see you! So, you're not mute and actually speak my language!"
"Do you two know each other?" Marco asked, making Dan shake his head in denial several times.
"Well, yes!" Seeing the other boy's gesture, Wave corrected himself. "Actually, no! I just hit him a little while ago with my car! Well, it wasn't really hitting; I just knocked him off his bike and—"
"You what?" Marco looked at Wave, completely surprised, but then turned his attention back to the other guy. "Dan, are you okay?"
Dan simply nodded, looking at the two people in front of him as if he were utterly scared. What was going on in that boy's head? Wave was intrigued and began:
"Why did you run away when I tried to help you? I've seen plenty of cases where the criminal who caused the accident runs away, but it's the first time I've seen the victim run away. Although I'm not a criminal since the light was green and I got out of the car to help, so that took me out of the criminal role, which means my initial comparison doesn't really make sense." Wave was talking to himself again.
"Wave, sit down. I'll talk to you later," Marco indicated, seeming a bit lost in the situation. "Dan, are you really okay?" He received a positive nod from Dan and felt relieved, sighing as if trying to gather his thoughts and raising his voice to address everyone. "So, folks, here at the company, we always welcome new aspiring talents in the entertainment and acting arts, and today we have someone new to learn with us! This is Dan, my nephew!"
"Your nephew??" Wave almost shouted. "I ran over your nephew? I feel even worse about it now!"
"You should feel that way about running over anyone, Wave," Marco said condescendingly. "Dan, please take a seat with the rest of the group on the stage."
Dan hesitated slightly, as if wanting to oppose his uncle's order, but after looking at the two of them a few times, as if considering something, he promptly moved to the indicated spot. Wave followed every step of the boy, troubled by a sense of familiarity that was bothering him. He prided himself on his impeccable memory, able to retain details from books, studies, and conversations, but Dan's identity remained shrouded in fog. What was preventing him from answering Wave's questions?
He didn't take his eyes off the figure sitting on the stage; it was clear how uncomfortable the situation made him, with every feature of his face showing it. Wave observed the serious expressions, noting the thin lips and piercing eyes, whose subtle green blended with brown. His hair was neatly styled, but a few stray strands made it look a bit messy, which somehow suited him. As Marco's nephew, he probably had Italian features that blended with his Asian heritage.
The next hour passed quickly. Marco explained the season's schedule, audition days, workshops, rehearsals, and it seemed like they had a lot of work ahead. Throughout the time, Dan stared intently at the stage floor, as if he wasn't really paying attention to Marco's words. Wave, on the other hand, was focused, but his focus was on Dan.
"Wave, do you think you can handle it?" Marco asked, pulling Wave from his thoughts during a brief pause.
"Handle what?"
"What do you mean, 'what'? The schedule, preparations, rehearsals…" He began, but was interrupted.
"Oh, yes, yes, yes! With years of practice, I've got this covered." Despite being distracted, he had easily grasped everything; after all, he was Wave.
"Oh, there's one more thing I wanted to ask you." Wave looked at him, and Marco continued. "I need help with Dan. He's here because of my sister, due to family reasons. He's never done theater before and I'm not even sure if he likes it, but he needs to stay with us this season. So, I need you to help find a place for him here, maybe even make him fall in love with theater, who knows… I understand it's a lot, and it's not your responsibility."
"He's being forced to be here?" Wave asked, frowning in deep curiosity.
Marco answered tersely, "Let's say so," seeming to swallow some hidden truth behind his words.
"And why?" Wave insisted. But seeing Marco's apprehensive eyes, he understood he wouldn't get a direct answer. He continued, resigned: "So my mission is to make someone who's here as a punishment… like this punishment?"
"In short, yes," Marco said, holding back a chuckle at the boy's perceptiveness.
"Marco," Wave began, sounding excited, "that sounds like a challenge."
"And it is. Dan is a great kid, but at the same time, he's quite difficult."
"I don't think he'll be very difficult for me," Wave said with a smile, having no idea what awaited him.