When the Current Turns
Pirayu set down the large potted plant near the corner pillar and walked slowly toward his car, his face frozen in an icy mask. He felt weightless, dizzy, as if he might float away into the sky. Teeradon's words still echoed in his head—both what he'd said before Wittawin arrived, and after.
The words he'd just heard, fresh and burning...
When he reached his car, the young man turned back to look at the single-story school building he'd just left, his gaze flat and emotionless. Then he looked at Wittawin's motorcycle parked beside Teeradon's large black Lexus.
So this was it—the moment when the raging current swept his body along to smash against the rocks. He'd told Wittawin once that he was ready to leap into the abyss of love, willing to trade suffering for the chance to feel happiness, even if just for a moment. He'd told himself he was prepared because he knew Teeradon was a playboy who didn't like commitment. But now... now he wasn't sure it would be worth it anymore.
The period of suffering seemed like it would be longer and more intense than he'd imagined. This wasn't just being swept along to crash against rocks—this was being crushed by massive logs floating in the torrent, pinned and battered again and again...
It wasn't fair. Not fair at all...
Why...
His first time. Why did it have to be Wittawin? Why...
***
Sarayoot's eyes widened in surprise when he walked into the pub and saw Pirayu sitting at the bar counter, drinking with a dejected air. Tonight he had plans to meet friends he rarely saw for a get-together, but he'd arrived earlier than expected.
Pirayu wore his usual white shirt and beige pants, sitting motionless and staring ahead without focus, unaware of anything around him until Sarayoot reached over and pulled the glass from his hand. Only then did the young man turn slowly to look, and when he saw who it was, he broke into a wide smile. But Sarayoot could see that Pirayu's once-bright smile had become melancholy.
"I'm not going to ask why you're sitting here drinking alone," Sarayoot said gently.
"That's not asking? When you say it like that, do you know how it sounds to me?" Pirayu smiled and reached over to take his glass back from Sarayoot.
"Tell me. Will it be what I'm thinking, or what Wittawin would say?"
"You'd say: 'Tell me right now why you're sitting here drinking. Don't you know alcohol is bad for your health?'" Pirayu mimicked Wittawin's voice perfectly.
"Wittawin should hear that impression," Sarayoot shook his head with a smile before becoming serious. He asked his nephew's friend earnestly, "But now that you understand the question, answer me."
"Nothing. I just felt like drinking," Pirayu shook his head with a smile and lifted his glass to sip more alcohol.
"That's not called drinking. That's called sipping," Sarayoot turned to order a drink from the bartender, then continued to Pirayu. "In that case, I'll drink with you."
"Uncle Yoot, why do you call yourself 'P'' instead of 'Uncle' like when you talk to Wittawin?" Pirayu asked suddenly.
"Because we're not uncle and nephew. I see you as a younger brother," Sarayoot shrugged.
"That you make me sound older than Win."
"Maybe…" Sarayoot chuckled.
"Could you try seeing me as something else?" Pirayu stared into Sarayoot's eyes for a moment before turning back to his drink. This time he drained the entire glass in one go, then made a disgusted face.
"You can't handle alcohol but you keep trying. Be careful or you'll get so drunk you won't know what's happening. Tomorrow you'll have a splitting headache. Just wait and see," Sarayoot warned, as usual.
"Yes, P'Yoot," Pirayu smiled sweetly like a child coaxing an adult.
"If I don't see you as a younger brother, what should I see you as?" Sarayoot asked, surprised by Pirayu's sudden question. "Are you getting drunk already? Is that why you're saying things that don't make sense?"
"I really want to know if people can truly forget everything when they're drunk. Why does everyone seem to like getting drunk so much?" Pirayu looked puzzled.
"That's enough. I'm taking you home," Sarayoot raised his hand to stop the bartender who was walking over to take another order from Pirayu, who had raised his hand to call him.
"You are starting to act like my second uncle," Pirayu shook his head and raised his hand to call the bartender again, successfully ordering another drink. "I'm not a child anymore. I know the world very well now. I really don't understand why we have to hurt first before we can understand what love..."
Sarayoot sat quietly listening to what his nephew's friend wanted to say, but Pirayu stopped mid-sentence. He sighed softly, then turned to Sarayoot and asked a question that left Sarayoot stunned: "Uncle Yoot, you can tell, can't you, that Wittawin is trying to set us up together? Wittawin told me that I'd be good with you and we'd probably get along well. Do you find me repulsive?"
"Uh... no. Pirayu is a good person," Sarayoot said softly.
"I've always thought you are a good person too. Mature, gentle, soft-spoken, serious, loving and caring toward others, able to take care of people. Whoever gets to be your boyfriend would be the luckiest person in the world. A man like this probably shouldn't exist in this era anymore. I don't mean you're outdated—I'm saying you're special," Pirayu smiled gently and turned to thank the bartender who handed him his drink.
"Don't. Stop drinking. You'll get drunk," Sarayoot reached over to pull the glass from Pirayu's hand. "This alcohol is strong."
"What's there to be afraid of? If I get drunk, someone will take me home. Or would you abandon me here?" Pirayu smiled broadly, pulled his drink back and lifted it to his lips before slamming the glass down on the counter and exclaiming loudly about how strong it was.
"I told you so."
"It's like an electric current running from my brain down to my heart, like being electrocuted until my whole body shakes. No wonder people love drinking," Pirayu shook his head, reached for the same glass and lifted it to his mouth, but Sarayoot quickly grabbed it away and told him to stop.
"Let me have just a little more. Let me finish this glass and then I'll stop. Please, P'Yoot," Pirayu coaxed, his eyes beginning to glisten. He laughed loudly and leaned his mouth toward the glass, managing to drink despite some spilling because Sarayoot was trying to pull it away from his lips.
"Stop right now. Come on, let's go home," Sarayoot stood up, grabbed Pirayu's arm to make him stand too, then turned to pay the counter staff.
"No, I'm not going back. I want to get drunk."
"Wittawin will definitely scold me if he finds out," Sarayoot threatened, invoking Wittawin.
"I'm not afraid of Wittawin anymore," Pirayu shook his head. "I don't care about Wittawin anymore."
Sarayoot pulled Pirayu's arm to make him follow. The young man didn't resist, walking slowly after Sarayoot, swaying slightly whenever Sarayoot made a turn.
"Uncle Yoot, I don't want to go home yet. I don't want to go back. I don't want to be alone," Pirayu's voice trembled when they stood outside the pub's entrance.
Sarayoot sighed and turned to look at the young man he'd only ever seen with a cheerful smile. Now Pirayu stood with his head down, swaying back and forth while Sarayoot held his arm steady.
"Uncle Yoot, don't abandon me."
***