The warm aroma of the cafe vanished, replaced by the suffocating scent of ozone and wet asphalt. In his mind, the sun had set, and a bruised, cloudy sky had swallowed the world. Thunder bloomed across the night sky, lightning chasing the sound as two figures stood soaked in the downpour in front of a villa.
A younger, heavier KK held Ohm's hand with a desperation that made his lips tremble, turning a ghostly purple in the cold. He was crying, though his tears were invisible against the torrential rain.
"Please don't leave me," KK pleaded, his voice small against the thunder. "I can change. I'll change into whatever you want. Just stay."
Ohm wrenched his hand away, his eyes cold. "Let me go! We're over! Like I told you, we are too different. We can't continue."
He reached for his suitcase, but KK lunged forward, hugging him tightly, anchoring himself to the only person he thought mattered. "Ohm, I beg you... please."
Ohm didn't just pull away this time; he shoved KK with a force that sent him stumbling back. His voice overpowered the storm, sharp and full of venom.
"Do you know that I hate you the most?" Ohm yelled, his face twisted in disgust. "You fat, ugly pig! Every time I look at you, I feel sick. I don't even know why I left my real boyfriend for you in the first place!"
"Don't say that," KK stammered, his heart shattering. "I know you're just angry. I know you're upset that I couldn't fund your father's pharmacy yet, but I'll find a way..."
Ohm rolled his eyes, the guilt he felt for the years of financial support KK had given his family—the villa, the business loans—vanishing behind his greed. "I finally realized that someone like you can never stand in the light and shine. I feel sorry for you, KK, but not enough to stay. I'm back with my boyfriend now."
"I'll do surgery!" KK screamed after him as Ohm turned to walk away. "Whatever face you want, I'll get it! If I'm too fat, I'll exercise! I'll be perfect for you!"
Ohm stopped and laughed, a mocking, hollow sound. "Forget it. Do you really think someone like me would want to sleep with someone like you? The only reason I ever touched you was for your money." He stepped into KK's space, hissing the words. "Without your wallet, you're nothing. No one in their right mind would share the same air as a fat ugly pig like you!"
KK's mind went blank. The world he had built—the faithful life he thought they shared—was a lie. "A business transaction?" he whispered, the rain stinging his eyes. "Was it all a bet? Did you ever like me... even a little?"
Ohm sighed as if KK's pain was an inconvenience. "Dating you was a bet between me and my friends. Look at you, then look at me. Did you really think I'd take you home to meet my family? I felt disgusted just standing beside you. And besides..." Ohm smirked. "I heard you talking to your grandfather. You're bisexual. That's disgusting. And since he's cutting you out of the will unless you have kids, I'm not staying to be broke with you."
The headlights of a car cut through the rain as a tall, handsome young man pulled into the driveway. He stepped out, looking like a model—the exact opposite of how KK felt about himself.
"Dear, have you broken up with him yet?" the man asked, sliding an arm around Ohm.
"I'm trying," Ohm said with a fake pout. "He loves me too deeply to let go."
As they loaded the car with the suitcases KK had paid for, the truth finally sank in. Ohm hadn't just used him; he had systematically robbed him, even tricking him into selling his own store.
KK collapsed to his knees in the mud, grabbing Ohm's leg in a final, pathetic act of shattered pride. "Sell whatever you want! I don't care! Just don't leave me! I can't live without you!"
The handsome man didn't say a word. He simply hauled KK up by his collar and delivered a heavy, bone-crushing punch to his left eye. As KK hit the ground, the man spat on him.
"Go buy yourself a mirror and take a good look before chasing my boy again," he smirked. "Thanks for the store, the house, and the car, pig."
The car roared to life and sped away, leaving KK face-down in the mud of the driveway he no longer owned.
KK stood in the rain, watching the taillights of the car—his car—disappear into the darkness. His world hadn't just cracked; it had leveled. He stood there with nothing—not even a hundred baht in his wallet. The realization was a cold, suffocating weight: no one had ever loved him for who he was. He was tired of the disgusted stares, the mocking bets, and the feeling of being a "transaction."
With a hollow, final resolve, he stumbled into the house. He didn't turn on the lights. He found his medication, uncapped the bottles, and began to swallow the pills, one after another, chasing the bitter taste with his own tears.
As the edges of his vision began to fray and his heart slowed, a single image flickered in his mind: his mother's face. With trembling fingers, he fumbled for his phone on the bed.
Mrs. Cole picked up on the second ring. "KK? What's the matter, dear?"
"Ma..." KK sobbed, his voice already thick and heavy. "It's over. I love you... thank you for everything. Please forgive me. I'll be seeing Grandfather soon."
"Hinata Klaew Kla Suwannarat!" his mother's voice screamed through the line, a sharp blade of terror. "What are you doing? I will never forgive you if you make me bury you! Do you hear me, Hinata?"
KK tried to move his lips, but his body was turning to lead. "Ma... I'm sorry," he whispered, or perhaps he only thought it.
The last thing he heard was the loud thump of his phone hitting the floor and his mother's frantic voice shouting for his father to call an ambulance.
When the world finally returned, it came with the rhythmic, mechanical beep of a heart monitor. KK opened his eyes to a sterile hospital room. His mother, father, and stepmother were standing over him like a wall of silent sentinels.
Without a word, Mrs. Cole leaned forward and slapped him—a sharp, stinging strike across his cheek.
"Are you fully awaking now?" she sobbed, her face a mask of agony. "Are you crazy? I gave you your life, and only God has the right to take it! You have no right to do this to yourself!" She collapsed onto his chest, her cries echoing in the small room. "My beautiful son... if something happens to you, no one will be more hurt than your mother."
His stepmother, Mrs. Suwannarat, took his hand and squeezed it gently. "KK, we know everything. We don't blame you. Even your grandfather came by last night."
"I won't let that man see you," Mrs. Cole hissed through her tears.
KK looked at the three of them—his complicated, imperfect family—and realized that while the world had seen a "business transaction," they saw a son. "I'm sorry," he sobbed, the shame finally breaking through. "I'm so sorry I made you worry."
The gray street of Chonburi snapped back into focus as the cafe worker cleared their throat. KK took his food, the weight of the bag grounding him. He was no longer the "fat ugly pig" in the mud; he was a man who had survived, rebuilt, and was now capable of protecting someone else.
The phone call from Sarah was the final tether to the present. Hearing that the surgery was a success felt like a heavy stone being lifted from his chest.
"Everything went well," Sarah confirmed, her voice professional yet warm. "He's being prepped for the general ward now."
"Thank you, Sarah," KK said, his voice thick with relief.
"If you really want to thank me, introduce him to me and Mom," she teased. As they talked, KK walked out into the sunlight. For the first time, the crowd didn't look like a blur of judgmental shadows. He could see their eyes, their smiles, their unique features. He was no longer hiding from the world's gaze.
"Who asked you to tell Ma?" KK asked, though he wasn't truly angry.
"I gave myself permission," Sarah joked, before switching back to her doctor persona. "But remember, I'm still his physician. He needs to be up and walking in three days. If he misses a single physiotherapy session, I'm coming to your house to get him myself. I know where you live."
"Are you threatening me now?"
"Not as his doctor," Sarah laughed. "As his future sister-in-law."
The conversation turned to Sarah's own impending marriage, a sharp contrast to the "business transaction" KK had experienced with Ohm. Her confidence was infectious, a reminder of what a healthy, mutual relationship looked like.
"Sarah, thank you," KK said, his tone turning serious.
"It was you who gave me that confidence, Pi," she replied softly. "I'm glad Mom sent me a brother like you when I needed it most. Now, don't make me cry—I have another case. Go be with your patient."
KK hung up and walked back to the hospital, his stride purposeful. He sat in the lobby, the bag of food resting on his knees, until the nurse finally called the name that now meant everything to him: "Family of Santichai Kittibun."
He stood up instantly. He didn't want Santichai to wake up in a crowded ward with thin curtains and the noise of other patients. He had already arranged for a private suite—a quiet, sun-drenched room where the only thing Santichai would hear was the sound of the ocean breeze through the window and KK's steady breathing nearby.
He followed the nurse down the hall, clutching Santichai's belongings. He was ready to be the "light" that Santichai had once seen in a much darker man.
This moment is incredibly poignant because it highlights the vast difference between ownership and love. Asnee would have flown into a rage at hearing another man's name, but KK's reaction shows his emotional maturity. He understands that ten years of history don't disappear in a day, even after surgery.
Here is the refined version of this scene, focusing on the bittersweet nature of that "slip of the tongue" and the depth of KK's devotion:
In the quiet hallway, the nurse spoke softly. "Mr. Suwannarat, Mr. Kittibun is still deep in the anesthesia. It may take some time before he fully awakens."
"Thank you," KK replied, his voice barely a murmur.
He entered the private room, the door clicking shut to seal out the hospital's sterile bustle. He set Santichai's bag on the sofa and the food on the table, but his focus remained entirely on the pale figure in the bed. He pulled a chair close, sitting near the pillows, and took Santichai's hand. He held it with a firm, grounding pressure, wanting to be the first thing Santichai felt as the world returned.
Santichai's eyelids fluttered. He didn't have the strength to focus his vision yet, but he felt the heat radiating from his left hand. His mouth moved slowly, parched from the surgery. "Pi Nee..."
KK stood up immediately, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to Santichai's forehead. "I'm here," he whispered. "I'm right here."
Santichai's eyes squeezed shut again. "I'm sorry... I can't see you. I'm afraid to open my eyes. I'm afraid that if I do, you won't be there."
"Go back to sleep," KK promised, his thumb stroking Santichai's knuckles. "When you open them again, I will still be here."
Santichai smiled faintly. He pulled KK's hand toward his face, pressing his lips to the back of KK's hand in a gesture of profound trust. "Pi Nee..." he whispered, his voice drifting off as the exhaustion of the procedure claimed him again. He fell back into a deep sleep, still clutching KK's hand like a lifeline.
KK froze for a split second. The name Nee hung in the air. But he didn't pull away. He didn't feel the sting of jealousy. Instead, a wave of deep empathy washed over him.
"Even if the name you call isn't mine," KK whispered to the sleeping man, "I am okay with it. I want you to be truthful to your heart."
He sat back down, watching the steady rise and fall of Santichai's chest. "You may not know this, but on that rainy night when I was at my lowest, I prayed to my grandfather. I told him if he wanted me to keep living, he had to send me a sign. And then... I met you."
He leaned forward, his voice thick with a decade of his own unshed tears. "The taste of your tears told me that my pain was nothing compared to yours. I made your happiness my goal because it was you who saved me that night. Sweet dreams, my heavenly sent."