The café was quiet that afternoon, sunlight filtering through the bamboo blinds. At a corner table, Beam sat across from Kawin, his laptop open, the screen glowing faintly against the warm café light. His fingers flew across the keyboard while Kawin flipped through a pile of invoices, brow furrowed.
> "Kawin, look—if we push the tax deadline and reclassify these orders under community solar projects, we might save a few thousand baht."
"You and your loopholes," Kawin muttered, but there was the faintest curl of a smile at the corner of his lips.
"You're welcome," Beam shot back with a grin, leaning his chin on one hand.
>"If I didn't babysit you, this company would drown in paperwork."
>"And if I didn't stop you, we'd probably be in jail by now," Kawin replied dryly.
Beam had been with Kawin since university. Their conversation flowed like old friends who had fought through storms together.
After Krit's death, he stayed — not for the salary, not for the work, but because he couldn't leave Kawin alone in the wreckage.
Now, he stayed — the last spark of warmth in Kawin's dimmed world.
---
Outside, Rak and Art stepped into the café, the bell above the door jingling softly. The scent of coffee and cinnamon drifted through the air.
They found a table near the window.
From there, Rak's eyes instinctively found Kawin — the boy whose voice he'd heard that day, the boy he couldn't forget.
As Rak's attention was fixed on Kawin, Art's gaze drifted to the boy beside him — Beam
He was lean, with soft tan skin and sharp, thoughtful eyes that lit up every time he figured out a calculation on his laptop. A few loose strands of dark hair fell across his forehead, and when he smiled briefly at something on the screen, Art felt an unexpected flutter in his chest.
> Cute and brilliant, Art thought, quickly looking away before it became obvious.
Beam must have sensed the glance — he looked up, their eyes met for a moment. A small, polite smile curved his lips, the kind that said I noticed you too.
The scent of roasted coffee beans hung in the air, comforting yet heavy with unspoken tension.
Art whispered, "Rak, that's him, right?
"Hmm,"
Rak nodded, his eyes locked on Kawin. He couldn't explain it — the pull he felt, the way his heart quickened just watching him speak, strong yet exhausted. But guilt shadowed that feeling like a storm cloud.
Rak murmured, unable to look away. "He's… different."
"Different how?"
"Like he's carrying everything on his shoulders, but pretending it's light."
Their quiet observation drifted into silence until they caught fragments of Kawin and Beam's conversation about missing invoices and funding gaps. Rak leaned slightly closer, listening — his heart tugging between guilt and the urge to help.
When Kawin sighed in frustration over a miscalculated tax number, Rak couldn't hold back anymore.
> "Excuse me," he said softly, rising from his seat. "The number you're missing might be because of the system's duplicate vendor IDs. If you remove the old registry file, it should balance automatically."
Both Kawin and Beam looked up, startled. Beam blinked, then grinned in surprise.
> "Whoa—someone actually gets it!" Beam said, impressed. "I was about to pull my hair out over that file."
Kawin studied Rak, his expression unreadable.
> "Excuse me?" Kawin's tone was cautious, his gaze sharp.
Rak blinked, realizing he'd interrupted. He said, "khǎw-thôt khráp, I am sorry…. I overheard your discussion."
Before Kawin could ask anything
P' Thira appeared from behind the counter, carrying two mugs.
> "Ah, there you are!" he said, spotting Rak and Art.
> "Kawin, Beam — these are Krit's friends I told you about yesterday. They came from Switzerland. Krit met them before he…"
He stopped mid-sentence. Clearing his throat.
Kawin's expression softened just slightly, though his voice remained guarded.
> "You seem to know quite a bit about business, Mr…?"
> "Anurak," Rak said quietly. "Just call me Rak."
When introduction circled around, P'Thira gestured between them with a grin.
Art walked up with two cups of coffee and smiled disarmingly. "And I'm Arthit. Rak's best friend and right hand. Just call me Art"
Beam looked up from his laptop — hoodie sleeves pushed up, hair a little messy, a pencil tucked behind one ear.
His eyes were sharp, but his smile was easy.
> "Right hand ? The one who follows Mr. Anurak everywhere like a Wi-Fi signal?"
Art blinked, then laughed.
> "Wow, we just met and you're already roasting me.
"You sure you're not working in PR instead of tech?"
Beam smirked, fingers still flying over the keyboard.
> "I multitask. Debug code, debug people."
> "Cute and scary",
Art shot back, leaning on the counter beside him. "Dangerous combination."
Beam raised an eyebrow, smirking as he typed something on his laptop.
> "Flirting already? Bold move for someone who can't even read my tax code formulas."
Art leaned across the table toward Beam with an easy grin.
>"Aow, come on, nong Beam…Who needs to understand tax codes when I can read you better, na krab?"
Beam laughed, "You're smooth, huh? Swiss people all this confident?"
Art chuckled.
>"Only the charming ones," Art said with a wink. "And don't worry — I learn fast. Maybe you can tutor me sometime… private class?"
Beam laughed, shaking his head — a little shy this time.
---
While Art and Beam exchanged quick-fire jokes across the table, Kawin stayed buried in paperwork — red pen tapping rhythmically against the invoice as if it could beat the stress out of it. His focus was razor-sharp, the kind that left no room for laughter or distraction.
Rak, on the other hand, tried to follow their conversation but ended up watching Kawin instead — the way his brows furrowed, the quiet frustration in every movement. He didn't know why it made his chest tighten, only that it did.
Across from them, P'Thira sipped his iced coffee with a small, amused smile. He noticed the two pairs forming — one serious, one playful — and muttered under his breath,
> "Ah… the universe really loves mixing chaos and destiny in one room."