Chapter 2

Morning sunlight spilled across the Kaewpanpong estate with the kind of brightness that mocked William’s mood. The mansion—three stories of white stone, glass, and elegant symmetry—glowed beneath the soft gold light as if it were welcoming a prince home from triumph rather than sheltering a boy who barely slept.

He stood before his mirror, adjusting his collar, then undoing it, then fixing it again.

“Brand new day,” William whispered to himself.

His reflection didn’t look convinced.
Honestly, neither was he.

He grabbed his designer backpack—his father insisted—and walked down the sweeping staircase lined with imported chandeliers and freshly polished wood. The morning air inside the house felt expensive, quiet, slightly too cold. Kaewpanpong wealth had always been like that: beautiful, vast, and just a little lonely.

His father sat at the long dining table, perfectly pressed shirt, glasses perched low, reading the financial news. A man built of legacy and discipline. A man who loved his son deeply but showed it through expectations rather than warmth.

His mother glanced up from her espresso. Her eyes held that soft, knowing look again—the one she’d worn since last night.

William cleared his throat. “I’m off to campus.”

His father nodded once.
His mother smiled gently.

He walked through the grand foyer, past the staff who greeted him with respectful bows, and pushed open the tall glass doors. The front courtyard opened like a modern palace: trimmed hedges, a fountain, marble steps reflecting sunlight.

His bright red sports car waited in the driveway, gleaming like it understood him—flashy, loud, impossible to ignore. Exactly like its owner.

William slid into the driver’s seat and leaned his forehead against the wheel for just a moment.

Brand new day.
He inhaled.
Exhaled.

He turned on the engine. The roar steadied him more than any mantra could.

He pulled out of the estate, the gates slowly closing behind him like the curtain of a stage he was finally stepping off.

Campus felt different in the morning—alive, messy, real—so unlike the sterile perfection of home. William parked in his usual spot, tossed his sunglasses into his bag, and strolled toward the canteen with a practiced grin.

He was planning to grab food fast, sit with Keen and Sea, pretend life was normal.

But fate had other plans.

The canteen line moved quickly, and William slipped into place, scrolling his phone, mind somewhere else entirely—until he heard a familiar voice.

“Morning.”

His breath caught.

Est stood at the front of the line.

White shirt tucked neatly. Rolled sleeves. Calm posture. Hair still damp from a morning shower. He looked like the embodiment of serenity while William felt like chaos in human form.

Without thinking, he blurted automatically:

“Khâo man gai, one plate.”

“Khâo man gai, one plate.”

Their voices collided.

Both froze.

The auntie behind the counter blinked, then laughed, waving a ladle between them. “Aiya, two handsome boys order same thing at same time. Destiny, hah?”

William’s face burned.

Est turned slowly, his expression polite—surprised, but composed. “William,” Est greeted, voice warm in a distant, practiced way.

“Morning,” William managed, hoping his voice didn’t crack like a teenager in a school drama.

The auntie sighed dramatically. “Okay, okay. Who order first?”

Est gestured lightly. “He can.”

William shook his head too fast. “No, no—you go first.”

They both spoke again.

“I insist—”
“It’s fine—”

Another silence. More awkward than the first. The kind that crawled under the skin. The auntie pointed her ladle at William with the authority of a general. “You. First. No more drama.”

William stepped forward, cheeks hot. Est shifted aside to give him space—respectful, distant, the same gentle distance that had killed him for years. The auntie prepared the dish. William stared at the menu though he knew it by heart.

Finally, he gathered enough courage to speak. “Um… early class?”

Nonsense.
Useless.
But anything was better than silence.

“Yes,” Est answered softly.

Lie. His schedule was public. William knew it. Est knew he knew it.

But Est still didn’t meet his eyes.

Which meant—Did he know? About the engagement? Did he know their parents had chosen a future for them? Did he hate it already?

The auntie pushed William’s plate toward him, breaking the spiral in his head. He thanked her too quickly and stepped aside, giving Est room to order.

As he moved to an empty table, Est’s voice drifted behind him—gentle, composed, the same tone he always used. It gave William no answers. Only more questions. Because as he sat down, clutching his tray tightly, one thought gnawed at him:

If Est knew they were to be engaged…
why did he look at William like nothing had changed?

William had almost convinced himself he was fine eating alone—phone beside his plate, fork tapping against his tray—when a shadow stretched across the table.

He looked up.

Est.

Expression calm as always, posture impossibly straight, a cloth-wrapped bundle held neatly in his hands. Not nervous. Not shy. Just… deliberate, as if he’d walked here with a task and intended to complete it.

“Is this seat free?” he asked.

William blinked. “Yeah. Of course.”

Est nodded once and sat down with that composed elegance he somehow carried everywhere, even in a noisy campus canteen filled with students yelling about group projects and exam schedules. He sat without hesitation, placing his plate of Khâo man gai and the wrapped item on the table. 

For a moment, the boy seemed to assess the space—how far the chairs were, how loud the cafeteria was, whether he was supposed to speak first. Then he lifted the bundle and pushed it toward William.

“My mom requested I deliver this to you,” Est said plainly.

Requested, not suggested. William stifled a laugh at the phrasing. He unwrapped the cloth to find a glass bottle filled with reddish-gold juice, tiny beads of condensation still clinging to it.

Est continued, tone even and factual. “She said your mom told her that you often appear drained after morning classes. She believes this recipe supports energy levels.”

“Oh.” William felt heat rise in his face. “That’s… really considerate of her.”

Est nodded once, as though confirming data. 

Silence settled—functional, not uncomfortable for Est, who seemed unbothered by the lack of conversation. William… wasn’t as unbothered. He kept glancing at Est, unsure how to start small talk with someone who didn’t seem to need it.

Just as he was searching for a sentence that wouldn’t sound ridiculous, William felt the air shift even before Keen and Sea slid into the seats beside him. Keen’s tray clattered a little too loudly when he set it down, making Est glance up from his plate.

Sea elbowed him in gentle scolding.

“Sorry,” Keen whispered—too quietly for Est to hear, but loud enough for William to glare at him.

Both men offered a polite wai—Sea elegant and composed, Keen enthusiastic to the point of looking like he might bow twice. 

Est returned the gesture with textbook formality. 

Keen leaned slightly toward William, whispering without moving his lips, “Is this real life?” William stepped on his foot under the table. Sea, ever composed, added quietly, “This is… new.”

Est’s gaze shifted between them, curiosity subtle but unmistakable. “Are you William’s friends from his faculty?”

“Yes,” Sea answered smoothly. “We’ve seen P’Est around, but this is our first time speaking properly.”

Keen elbowed William, whispering, “Introduce us better! You coward.”
William kicked him again.

Clearing his throat, he tried to salvage the moment. “Um—yeah. Keen and Sea are my closest friends. We’re… always together.”

Est nodded once. “I see.” He said it with the tone of someone quietly analyzing a puzzle piece that suddenly clicked into place.

Sea began cutting into his omelet. “William talks about you sometimes.”

William froze.

Keen perked up. “A lot, actually.”

William choked on air. “Sea. Keen. Stop talking. Eat your food.”

Est’s gaze slid to him—calm, unreadable, and yet… amused. The corner of his mouth lifted by a millimeter, just enough that William caught it and nearly died. “I didn’t know,” Est said mildly, “that I was a topic of conversation.”

“You’re popular,” Sea replied simply.

“And hot,” Keen added.

Sea smacked his arm.
William wanted to dig a grave under the table and lie in it.

Est blinked. “Thank you… I think?”

Keen leaned forward as though whispering a secret, “Don’t worry, P’Est. William only says good things.”

“Keen!”

Sea stabbed a piece of sausage with tired precision. “He means William never insults you.”

“That too,” Keen chirped. William covered his face with his hands.

Est watched them, expression still neutral, but something warmer flickered underneath—interest, faint amusement, maybe even a tiny crack in his usual reserved posture. It was the kind of expression Est gave sparingly. Reserved for rare circumstances. Or rare people. William had seen it when Est interacted with his sister or Pond, his best friend. 

William felt his stomach twist. To break the attention on him, he blurted, “P’Est… did you eat already?”

Est nodded. “I’m almost done.”

William watched the way he ate—neatly, without rushing. Everything about him was calm and precise, even the way he held his spoon.

Before anyone can said anything, Est put down his spoon and looked at William. “So, the juice… My mom asked that I tell her if you liked it. I will report honestly.”

William nodded, trying hard to ignore Keen’s shoulder bump. He uncapped the bottle immediately, feeling strangely like he was being evaluated. He took a sip. The flavor burst bright and sweet—berry, citrus, something floral. 

“It’s really good,” he said. “Please tell her I said thank you.”

“I will.” Est said and then continue to eat, posture perfect.

Keen whispered, “This is basically future-in-law mode.” William stomped on his foot.

Est’s lips softened—barely—and he spoke in a low, calm tone, “Should I pretend I didn’t hear that?”

Keen froze. Sea coughed into his fist, shoulders shaking. William wanted to dive into the nearest trash bin. “P’Est, please do.”

“Hm,” P’ Est replied thoughtfully. “I’ll consider it.”

It wasn’t quite a joke, but it was close. The kind of subtle tease only someone who knew restraint too well would dare to slip out.

William’s breath caught.
There you are, he thought.
The real Est—warm beneath the cool surface.

Keen leaned toward William, whispering, “Oh, I like him.”

William nearly choked. “Shut up.”

Sea smirked. “He has personality. I see the appeal.” William cut him off with a glare so sharp Sea lifted both hands in surrender.

But Est merely looked between the three of them with calm interest. “You all seem very… lively,” he observed.

Keen grinned. “We balance William out.”

“Or he balances us out,” Sea added.

Est’s lips curved—barely, a ghost of a smile. “I believe that.” William blinked. “You do?”

“You attract chaos,” Est said simply. “People like that usually have steady friends.”

Keen elbowed Sea. “Is that a compliment? I think that was a compliment.”

Sea nodded. “A very P’Est-like compliment.”

William flushed, unsure what to do with the warmth pooling in his chest. He knew Est noticed—of course he did—and tilted his head slightly. “You’re red.”

“I’m—hot,” William lied.

“It’s air-conditioned,” Est said. 

Keen burst out laughing. Sea nearly choked on his iced tea. Est looked almost satisfied. William wanted to scream. 

Still, between the teasing, the bluntness, and the unexpected warmth in Est’s tone, a quiet realization settled into William’s bones:

He’s not cold. Not really.
He’s just hidden. Quiet on purpose.
And somehow… he’s choosing to open just a little. Here. Now. With me.

Keen shot him a smug look that said you’re so doomed in love, and Sea gave him a gentler one that said breathe, Will. 

William exhaled.

Est finally set down his spoon, wiping his lips neatly with a tissue. “I should get going. I have a thesis meeting in twenty minutes.”

“Oh—right,” William said, trying not to sound too breathless. Est stood, tray in hand, posture straight and composed. “It was nice meeting you,” he told Keen and Sea.

Both men offered polite smiles.

Keen: “You too, P’ Est.”

Sea: “Safe walk.”

Est nodded once, then looked at William—just a brief, quiet glance, like a soft tap on the heart. “Finish the juice. You can give the container directly to My mom at the next dinner.”

William nodded quickly. “I will.” Est turned and walked away.

Keen waited exactly three seconds before grabbing William’s wrists. “What. Was. That.” Sea exhaled. “William, you’re doomed.”

William cradled his head in his hands. Because even with all the awkwardness, all the tension, all the embarrassing commentary—he had seen something warm in Est today. Did he know then? Does that mean he was okay with the upcoming engagement, or was he kind because he didn’t know yet?

William felt his head nearly exploded. He had to share this turmoil with someone. And who suit it better than his best friends duo?

“I need to tell you guys something. Better finish your food fast!” William said. Keen exchanged glances with Sea, feeling that something important is happening.

~*~

The moment they stepped outside, the air felt cooler—sharp enough to cut through the stiffness in William’s chest. He kept walking until they reached a quiet corner beside the vending machines, tucked away from the canteen traffic but not suspiciously hidden. Keen and Sea followed closely behind, carrying the combined energy of two people seconds away from interrogating him to death.

The second William stopped, Keen grabbed his shoulders, shaking lightly.
“Okay. What was that? Why were you acting like a short-circuiting robot in front of P’Est?”

Sea crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “And why did he bring you juice his mom made? Why does that sound illegal for a senior who barely talks to anyone?”

William took a deep breath, looking anywhere but at them. “Guys… don’t freak out.”

Keen already looked offended. “Why would you say that before telling me something? Now I’m guaranteed to freak out.”

Sea placed a steadying hand on Keen’s shoulder. “Let him speak.”

William exhaled shakily.
No more postponing.

“I’m… engaged. Or soon.”

Silence.
Not even dramatic silence.
Just pure, blank, buffering silence.

Keen blinked once. “Engaged as in—married engaged? Or engaged as in… metaphorically chained to a responsibility, like how I’m emotionally engaged to procrastination?”

William glared. “The first one.”

Keen’s jaw dropped.
Sea’s eyes widened by a fraction.

Then—Keen exploded.

“WHAT—ENGAGED?! TO WHO?!”
He slapped both hands over his own mouth, remembering they were still semi-public. His voice dropped into a harsh whisper that somehow sounded even louder.
“William Kaewpanpong, are you—engaged to a person?!”

William nodded weakly. “Yes.”

Sea’s voice remained calm, but his eyes sharpened. “Who?”

Another deep inhale.

“P’Est.”

Keen slapped the vending machine. “P’EST?! P’EST?!! As in the P’Est who just sat in front of you like it was normal?! P’Est who gave you juice? That P’Est?!”

Sea put a hand over Keen’s mouth before he shook the entire courtyard apart. “Quiet. Breathe.” Keen made muffled noises of disbelief.

Sea turned back to William, expression serious. “Does… P’Est know?”

William froze.

That was the question. The question that had been gnawing at his ribs all morning. He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know. I wasn’t told if his family already informed him. My parents said the arrangement is finalized, but—no one said whether P’Est knows yet.”

Sea murmured, thoughtful, “Then his behavior today can’t be interpreted.”

Keen yanked Sea’s hand off his mouth. “You mean he might have no idea that he’s sipping juice with his future fiancé?!”

William groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Please don’t say it like that. I’m already dying.”

Sea stepped closer. “William. Hey.”
His voice softened, grounding. “How do you feel about it?”

And the facade cracked.

William leaned back against the wall, letting the weight settle. “I—don’t know. I’ve liked him for years. You two know that. But this—this is not how I imagined anything going. And if he doesn’t know yet…” His voice dropped.
“And when he finds out… what if he hates it? What if he’s uncomfortable? What if this ruins everything?”

Keen’s expression softened, all the dramatic energy dissolving into genuine worry. “Will… you deserve someone who chooses you. Not someone forced into your life.”

William’s chest twisted painfully. “I know. But I can’t stop hoping. Just a little.”

Sea nodded. “Hope is fine. But let him respond in his own time. Don’t assume anything until he actually knows.”

Keen jumped back in, arms flailing. “And maybe—maybe—this could work! Think about it! You two have known each other for years. You’re not strangers. He didn’t run from the table. That’s already a miracle.”

Sea gave Keen a flat look. “Your standards for romance are very low.”

“I live off crumbs,” Keen declared proudly.

Despite everything, William laughed—weak, but real. His friends flanked him on both sides, solid and familiar.

“You’re not alone,” Sea said quietly.

“Yeah,” Keen agreed. “We’re in this until the wedding buffet. or first, the engagement party.”

“Keen—”

“Kidding!”
Pause.
“…Mostly.”

William groaned, pushing them both lightly. “Thank you. Really.”

They started walking back toward the main building, the morning sun warm on their shoulders. William’s steps were still heavy with uncertainty, but now—lightened, just barely, by the comfort of two idiots who loved him. He wasn’t any closer to knowing whether Est knew about the engagement. But for the first time since last night, he didn’t feel like he was carrying the secret alone.

By the time today’s classes ended, William felt wrung out. His head throbbed from too many thoughts, his stomach twisted from too many what-ifs, and his friends had spent the entire walk out of the lecture hall whispering theories like wannabe detectives.

Keen: “Maybe P’Est does know and he’s just calm about it!”

Sea: “Or maybe he doesn’t know and he’s just… naturally observant.”

Keen: “Observant? Sea, the man noticed William turning red through air-conditioning.”

Sea: “My point exactly.”

William groaned. “Can we not—”

He didn’t finish.

Because Keen suddenly made a strangled noise, like a dying flute. Sea stopped mid-step. William followed their line of sight—And his heart dropped into his shoes.

Est was approaching from the direction of the basketball court, hair damp, shirt clinging to his torso in ways that felt illegal at this hour. He wore black shorts, his gym bag slung casually over one shoulder. Beads of sweat caught sunlight across his neck and arms.

He looked—
No.
William refused to finish that sentence in his own head.

Keen whispered, horrified, “Why is he hot like that at 3 p.m.”

Sea muttered, “He must have played with the faculty team. He’s carrying a towel.”

William couldn’t speak. At all.

Est noticed them instantly. His gaze flicked from William—lingering half a second too long—to Keen and Sea. Then… A tiny, unmistakable spark of amusement lit in his eyes. Just like in the canteen.

Est walked straight toward William. “William.” Calm. Steady. Slightly breathless from exercise, which somehow made it worse.

William’s voice cracked before he even spoke.
“H—Hi.”

Keen elbowed him so hard Sea had to steady him.

Est’s lips curved—minutely, but undeniably. “You’re red again.”

William made a dying noise.

Sea coughed politely into his fist, looking skyward as if asking the universe for mercy.

Est lifted the towel around his neck and dabbed the sweat at his jawline, movements neat and practiced. “Did you have difficult classes?” he asked, tone mild.

William shook his head too fast. “N-No. I’m fine. Totally fine. Perfectly fine.”

Est let out something that might have been a soft huff of air—not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh. “If you say so.”

Keen whispered to Sea, “He’s teasing him again. He’s absolutely doing it on purpose.”

Sea whispered back, “But does he know? Or is he just—naturally devastating?”

William wished the ground would open.

Est adjusted the strap of his bag. “I was on my way to find you, actually.”

William blinked. “Find me?”

This time, Est looked… almost awkward. Barely noticeable, but William caught the subtle shift in posture, the small glance away. Before Est could explain, his phone buzzed loudly in his pocket. He glanced at the screen.

“Mom,” he murmured, then answered it immediately. “Máe?”

His mother’s voice was loud enough through the receiver that even William caught the tone—a mixture of excitement and brisk urgency.

Est’s expression remained neutral, but his ears reddened just a little.

“Yes… yes, I’ve found him… I’m with him now.”
A pause.
“No, he wasn’t hard to find.”
Another pause.
“Yes, I’ll tell him.”

He ended the call and exhaled softly through his nose. Keen and Sea were trying their absolute best not to stare, but failing dramatically.

Est stepped a little closer to William—close enough to smell faint citrzus soap beneath sweat, close enough for William’s brain to short-circuit. “My mom,” Est began, “asked that I inform you about tonight.”

“Tonight?” William echoed weakly.

“Yes.” Est’s lashes lowered slightly as he spoke, as if choosing his words carefully. “She said there is… a sudden dinner. Our parents will be meeting. She insisted I should pick you up and bring you to the house.”

William felt his soul leave his body.

Keen grabbed Sea’s arm so tightly Sea winced.
Sea whispered, “This is it.”
Keen whispered, “This is doom.”

William couldn’t breathe.

Est watched his reaction very closely. Not confused. Not unreadable this time. Just… observing him with that same quiet focus he used when he wanted to understand something.

“Are you free tonight?” Est asked. His tone was neutral. But his eyes—There was something there. Something alien. 

William opened his mouth. Nothing came out. His heartbeat was so loud he was sure everyone could hear it—including Est, who now stood close enough that the warmth from his skin felt like a personal attack.

Sea nudged him—not subtly. “William,” he whispered urgently. “Answer.”

Keen whispered louder, “Say yes, you romantic coward!”

William shot them both a murderous glare, coughed once to reset his entire existence, and finally managed a very dignified:

“Uh.”

Est blinked.

William tried again. “Y-Yes. I’m… free.”

Keen clapped a hand over his own mouth to stop a squeal. Sea shut his eyes like he was witnessing something sacred. 

Est nodded once.

“W–Why tonight though?” William asked, panicked. “Did she say why?”

“No,” Est said. “She just said it’s important. And that I should pick you up.”

“Oh,” William whispered.
“Oh?” Sea whispered louder.
“OH,” Keen whispered the loudest.

Est continued, “We should leave soon. But—” He gestured down at himself, shirt sticking to his skin. “I need a shower first.”

“Wait for me?”

There was no teasing in his tone. Just quiet expectation. Something almost gentle. Something that made William’s spine buzz. “Y—Yeah,” he replied, cheeks burning. “We can wait.”

Keen coughed pointedly. “He will wait.”

Est’s eyes flicked to them, amused. “Thanks. I won’t be long.”

He headed back toward the athletic building, the late sun outlining him in gold, leaving a stunned trio behind.

The moment Est was out of earshot, Keen exploded, “He asked you to wait for him…” 

Sea added, “And then he’s taking you home…”

William groaned louder.

And somewhere in the distance, Est disappeared into the locker room—leaving William’s stomach in nervous knots as he waited for whatever tonight would become.