The afternoon dragged by with the weight of unspoken words and mounting tension. Korn sat through his constitutional law lecture without absorbing a single word, his mind replaying Ping's questions over and over. When was the last time Mark had initiated a date? When was the last time Mark had texted first? The answers were uncomfortable, like pressing on a bruise that hadn't quite healed.
His phone remained stubbornly silent.
By four PM, Korn found himself in the law faculty's common area, pretending to study while actually watching other students chat and laugh with an ease he envied. Relationships that didn't require secrecy, dates that didn't get cancelled, boyfriends who probably didn't make their partners feel like they were asking for too much just by wanting to spend time together.
"You're brooding again." Gun appeared beside him with two cups of coffee, settling into the chair with his characteristic quiet grace. Unlike Ping's dramatic interventions, Gun's presence was like a warm blanket – comforting without being overwhelming.
"I'm not brooding," Korn lied, accepting the coffee gratefully.
"Ping texted me. He's worried about you." Gun's voice was soft, but there was steel underneath. "We both are."
Korn stared into his coffee cup, watching the steam spiral upward. "Do you think I'm stupid? For waiting around for someone who doesn't seem to want to be waited for?"
Gun was quiet for a long moment, considering his words carefully. That was the thing about Gun – he never spoke just to fill silence. When he finally answered, Korn knew it would be honest.
"I think you care about people more than they deserve sometimes," Gun said finally. "And I think you're scared of being alone, so you accept less than you should."
The words hit harder than Ping's dramatic accusations because they came wrapped in Gun's gentle understanding. Gun didn't make grand pronouncements or demand immediate action. He just saw things clearly and trusted Korn to make his own decisions.
"The mixer tonight," Korn said slowly. "Maybe I should go."
Gun nodded. "Maybe you should. Not to make Mark jealous or to prove a point. Just... to remind yourself that there are other people in the world who might actually appreciate your company."
Across campus, Mark was discovering that guilt was a terrible companion for afternoon classes. Every notification sound made him jump, hoping for a message from Korn but dreading what it might say. His phone showed several missed calls from Mint, but he couldn't bring himself to answer. Not yet. Not when he could still taste the regret of cancelling on Korn for the third time this month.
His structural engineering professor droned on about load-bearing calculations while Mark's mind calculated the weight of his own poor choices. Three months of this. Three months of keeping Korn a secret while letting himself get closer to Mint. Three months of telling himself he was just keeping his options open, not admitting that he was terrified of what it meant to be in a real relationship with another guy.
"Mr. Thanakit," Professor Wanit's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. "Perhaps you'd like to share your thoughts on today's problem set?"
Mark scrambled to look at his notebook, realizing he'd been doodling Korn's name in the margins without thinking. He quickly flipped the page. "Sorry, Professor. Could you repeat the question?"
A few students snickered. Mark felt his face burn with embarrassment and something else – the creeping realization that he was falling apart in more ways than one.
After class, Jay caught up with him in the hallway. "You look like hell."
"Thanks. Really what I needed to hear right now."
"What you need to hear is that you're being an idiot." Jay's tone was matter-of-fact, which somehow made it worse than if he'd been angry. "You should be feeling like hell because he doesn't deserve that."
Mark didn't answer, but his expression said everything.
"Mark." Jay grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop walking. "I'm going to say this once, and I need you to really listen. Korn is good for you. When you're with him, you're the best version of yourself. When you're sneaking around with Mint, you're..." Jay gestured helplessly. "You're this anxious mess who can't focus on anything."
"It's not that simple."
"It is that simple. You're just scared."
Mark pulled away. "You don't understand. If people find out about us, if my family finds out..." He trailed off, the words catching in his throat.
"So you'd rather hurt him than risk being hurt yourself?"
The question hung between them like a challenge. Mark wanted to deny it, but the truth was ugly and obvious. He was choosing the easy lie over the difficult truth, and Korn was paying the price.
"The mixer tonight," Jay said quietly. "Mint will be there. And knowing how these things work, probably half the campus."
Mark's stomach dropped. He'd been planning to go, to lose himself in Mint's uncomplicated affection and pretend his problems didn't exist. But Jay's words carried an unspoken warning.
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying maybe it's time to make a real choice. Not just tonight, but about everything." Jay's expression was serious in a way Mark rarely saw. "Because if you keep going like this, you're going to lose both of them. And honestly? You'll deserve it."
Meanwhile, in the business faculty building, Prem was having his own kind of afternoon. Unlike Korn's brooding or Mark's guilt, Prem's time was spent in careful preparation. He'd attended his advanced marketing seminar, participated in a student government budget meeting, and even squeezed in a workout at the campus gym. All normal activities that maintained his normal routine.
But his mind was entirely focused on tonight.
He'd already confirmed that The Spot would be busy – not just because of his fabricated mixer, but because it was Friday night and the engineering students had finished their midterm projects. Mark would be there. Prem was certain of it. And if Prem's assessment of Korn's current emotional state was correct, Korn might be there too.
The only variable was timing.
"You're in a good mood," Bank observed as they left their economics lecture together. "Did something happen with your law student?"
Prem kept his expression neutral. "I don't know what you mean."
"Right. And I'm sure it's just a coincidence that you've been checking your phone every five minutes and you actually smiled during Professor Chen's lecture about market fluctuations."
Bank was more observant than Prem sometimes gave him credit for. It was both useful and occasionally inconvenient.
"I'm just looking forward to tonight," Prem said carefully.
"Uh-huh. Well, whatever you're planning, try not to scare the poor guy." Bank grinned. "Some of us prefer our romantic pursuits to involve actual conversation rather than mysterious lurking."
If only Bank knew how much conversation Prem had planned for tonight.
As evening approached, three different groups of friends were having three very different conversations about the same event.
In the law faculty dormitory, Ping was rifling through Korn's closet with the determination of a fashion emergency responder.
"You're not wearing that," Ping announced, holding up Korn's usual button-down shirt like it had personally offended him.
"What's wrong with it?" Korn asked, though he was starting to regret telling his friends about his decision to attend the mixer.
"It says 'I'm a serious law student who goes to bed at ten PM and has never had an impure thought in his life.'" Ping tossed the shirt aside and continued digging. "Tonight, you need to look like someone who has options."
Gun, who was sitting on Korn's bed with a textbook in his lap, looked up with amusement. "Maybe he should just wear what makes him comfortable."
"Comfortable is what got him into this mess," Ping shot back. "Comfortable is letting Mark treat him like a backup plan. Tonight is about reminding Korn that he's worth pursuing."
Korn watched his friends debate his wardrobe choices and felt a strange mix of affection and anxiety. They meant well, but their concern only highlighted how pathetic his situation had become. When had he started needing a makeover just to feel worthy of basic respect?
"Here." Ping emerged victorious with a black button-down that Korn had forgotten he owned. "This, with your dark jeans. And we're doing something different with your hair."
"My hair is fine."
"Your hair is safe. Tonight, we're going for devastating."
Nara appeared in the doorway, her arms crossed and her expression skeptical. "Are we really doing this? The makeover-to-get-over-your-ex thing?"
"It's not to get over anyone," Ping protested. "It's to remind Korn that he's attractive and desirable and doesn't need to settle for someone who treats him like an inconvenience."
Nara studied Korn with the sharp attention she usually reserved for cross-examining witnesses in their mock trial class. "You know what? Fine. But we're not doing this to make Mark jealous. We're doing this because you deserve to feel good about yourself."
"Thank you," Gun said quietly. "That's exactly what I was trying to say."
In the engineering dormitory, Mark was having his own crisis of confidence, though for entirely different reasons.
"Just don't go," Jay said for the third time. "Stay in, watch a movie, think about what you actually want instead of what's easiest."
Mark was already dressed and ready, his reflection showing someone who looked confident even if he didn't feel it. "I can't just hide in my room forever."
"You're not hiding. You're making a choice not to make things worse."
"Maybe seeing Mint will help me figure things out."
Jay's expression turned incredulous. "Mark, listen to yourself. You think spending time with the girl you're using to avoid dealing with your real feelings is going to provide clarity?"
"She's not... I'm not using her."
"Then what would you call it?"
Mark didn't have an answer for that. Or rather, he had an answer but didn't want to say it out loud. Because Jay was right, and Mark knew it, and the knowledge made him feel like the worst kind of person.
"One night," Mark said finally. "Let me have one night where I don't have to think about any of this."
Jay shook his head. "You know what? Fine. Go. But when this blows up in your face – and it will blow up in your face – don't come crying to me about how unfair life is."
It was the harshest thing Jay had ever said to him, and it stung precisely because Mark knew he deserved it.
In the business faculty's premium student housing, Prem was getting ready with the methodical precision of someone preparing for battle. He'd chosen his clothes carefully – expensive but not ostentatious, attractive but not trying too hard. Everything calculated to make the right impression.
Bank lounged on Prem's sofa, scrolling through his phone and providing unsolicited commentary.
"You know, for someone who claims this is just casual interest, you're putting in a lot of effort," Bank observed. "I've seen you get ready for dates with actual models with less care."
"I want to look presentable."
"You want to look irresistible. There's a difference." Bank set down his phone and studied Prem carefully. "What's really going on here? And don't give me another line about networking."
Prem paused in adjusting his watch. Bank was his oldest friend - their parents had been best friends since university. If anyone could see through Prem's carefully constructed facades, it would be Bank.
"I think he's special," Prem said finally, settling on a version of the truth that wouldn't raise too many questions.
"Special enough to warrant three months of careful observation instead of just asking him out like a normal person?"
"Some things are worth waiting for."
Bank's expression shifted slightly, as if he was seeing something new in Prem's face. "Just... be careful, okay? I know you're used to getting what you want, but people aren't business deals. You can't strategize your way into someone's heart."
Prem smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Can't I?"
Fourth knocked on the door before popping his head inside. "P'Prem? Are you ready? Jane is here with the car."
"Coming," Prem called back, then turned to Bank. "Ready to meet some law students?"
Bank shook his head with fond exasperation. "I still think you're overthinking this, but sure. Let's go watch you either sweep someone off their feet or crash and burn spectacularly."
As nine PM approached, three separate groups made their way toward The Spot, each carrying their own hopes, fears, and hidden agendas. None of them could have predicted how completely the night would change everything, or how the careful balance of secrets and lies was about to come crashing down in the most public way possible.
The only certainty was that by tomorrow morning, nothing would be the same.
The Spot was already pulsing with music and energy when Korn arrived with Ping, Gun, and Nara at half past nine. The club was a converted warehouse in Thonglor, the kind of place that attracted university students with its reasonable drink prices and willingness to look the other way when it came to fake IDs. Tonight, it seemed like half the campus had shown up.
"See?" Ping said triumphantly as they surveyed the crowded dance floor. "This is exactly what you needed. Look at all these people who don't know about your relationship drama and don't care about Mark's engineering projects."
Korn had to admit that Ping's makeover had worked better than expected. The black shirt made him look older, more confident, and several people had already given him appreciative glances. It was a strange feeling, being noticed by strangers when the person he actually wanted attention from couldn't be bothered to show up for dinner.
"Drinks first," Gun suggested, ever practical. "Then we can figure out where you want to position yourself for maximum visibility."
"I'm not here to position myself anywhere," Korn protested, but he followed his friends toward the bar anyway. The truth was, he did want to be seen. Not necessarily by Mark – though part of him hoped his absence would be noticed – but by the world in general. He wanted to remember what it felt like to exist in a space where he didn't have to hide or make excuses or pretend that cancelled dates were no big deal.
The bartender was a cheerful guy around their age who seemed to know Gun from somewhere. While Gun chatted with him about drink recommendations, Korn let his gaze wander across the club. Students from different faculties mingled freely here, the usual campus hierarchies temporarily suspended by alcohol and darkness and the universal desire to forget about upcoming exams.
"Iced americano?" Ping suggested with a grin.
"Very funny." Korn accepted the beer Gun handed him and took a careful sip. He wasn't much of a drinker, but tonight felt like an exception was warranted.
"Okay, ground rules," Nara said, appearing with her own drink and surveying the crowd. "We're here to have fun. We're not here to obsess over anyone who's too stupid to appreciate what he had. And if anyone asks about your relationship status, the answer is 'happily single and looking.'"
"I'm not looking," Korn started to protest.
"You are now," Ping interrupted cheerfully. "Starting tonight, you're officially open to possibilities."
Twenty minutes later, Prem arrived with Bank, Fourth, and Jane. Even in the dim lighting of the club, Prem stood out. There was something about the way he moved through the crowd, the confident set of his shoulders, the expensive cut of his clothes that marked him as different from the typical university student. Several people turned to look as his group made their way to a prime spot near the VIP section.
"Is that the guy from the business faculty?" Gun asked, following Korn's gaze. "The one who's always at student government meetings?"
Korn nodded, though he wasn't sure why he was watching. Something about Prem seemed familiar, though he couldn't place where he might have seen him before. Maybe in the library? Or crossing paths between classes?
"He's hot," Ping said, giving a lite whistle. "In that 'I have money and I know how to use it' way. Very different from your usual type."
"I don't have a type," Korn said automatically.
"Your type is 'emotionally unavailable engineering students who cancel dates,'" Ping shot back. "Maybe it's time to expand your horizons."
"He keeps looking over here," Nara observed with interest. "The business guy. He's been watching you since he walked in."
Korn glanced back toward Prem's group and caught Prem's eye for just a moment. There was something intense in that gaze, something that made Korn's pulse quicken in a way he didn't quite understand. Prem smiled – a slow, confident expression that somehow made Korn feel like he was the only person in the crowded club.
"Okay, that was definitely directed at you," Gun said quietly. "Should we be concerned or intrigued?"
Before Korn could respond, Gun grabbed his arm. "Don't look now, but..."
Korn looked. Of course he looked.
Mark had just walked in with a group of his engineering friends, and he wasn't alone. A girl was tucked under his arm like she belonged there, laughing at something one of his friends had said. She was beautiful, with long dark hair and a bright smile, looking so perfect on Mark's arm. She looked happy. More than happy – she looked like someone who had never doubted her place in Mark's life.
The contrast was devastating. Here was Korn, finally out in public after weeks of secret meet-ups and cancelled plans, watching his supposed boyfriend parade around with someone else like it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Korn," Gun said softly. "Maybe we should go somewhere else."
"No." The word came out harder than Korn intended. "No, I'm not running away. I have just as much right to be here as they do."
Ping nodded approvingly. "That's the spirit. Besides, look around. There are plenty of other people here who would love to buy you a drink and actually show up when they say they will."
As if summoned by Ping's words, Tay from Korn's constitutional law class appeared at his elbow. Tall, friendly, with an easy smile that had probably gotten him out of trouble more than once.
"Korn! I didn't expect to see you here," Tay said, clearly pleased by the encounter. "You look great. Different. Good different."
"Thanks," Korn managed, acutely aware that Mark's group was somewhere behind him in the crowd. "Just trying something new."
"Well, it's working. Can I buy you a drink? Or maybe we could dance? I mean, if you want to. No pressure."
It was exactly the kind of straightforward interest that Korn had been craving from Mark for months. Simple, honest, uncomplicated. Tay wasn't worried about who might see them or what it might mean or whether his friends would approve. He just saw someone he found attractive and made his interest clear.
"I'd like that," Korn heard himself say.
Ping squeezed his shoulder encouragingly. "We'll be right here if you need us."
As Tay led him toward the dance floor, Korn caught a glimpse of Mark across the room. For just a moment, their eyes met, and Korn saw something flicker across Mark's face – surprise, maybe, or something that might have been hurt. But then the girl was pulling Mark toward the bar, and the moment was gone.
Good, Korn thought with surprising vehemence. Let him see what it feels like to watch someone else be happy.
The music was loud enough to make conversation difficult, which was perfect because Korn didn't trust himself to make coherent small talk. Instead, he let himself focus on the rhythm, on Tay's easy movements, on the novel experience of dancing with someone who seemed genuinely happy to be there with him.
"You're a good dancer," Tay said, leaning close enough that his breath tickled Korn's ear.
"I'm really not," Korn replied, but he was smiling. When was the last time he'd smiled like this? When was the last time someone had complimented him without it feeling like an apology for something else?
"Well, you're good at faking it then."
The irony wasn't lost on Korn. He'd been faking a lot of things lately.
Across the club, Mark was discovering that jealousy was a particularly vicious emotion. He'd been trying to focus on Mint's stories about her thermodynamics class, but his attention kept drifting to the dance floor where Korn was moving with easy confidence against some guy Mark vaguely recognized from campus.
Korn looked... different. The black shirt made his skin look luminous under the club lights, and there was something in his expression that Mark had never seen before. A kind of relaxed happiness that made Mark realize how tense Korn always seemed when they were together. How careful. How much energy Korn spent trying not to ask for too much or expect too much or be too much. And now he realized that Korn had been making himself small for him, bottled up all of his emotions just for the sake of his pride.
"Mark?" Mint's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. "You okay? You seem distracted."
"Sorry," Mark said, forcing himself to look at her instead of the dance floor. "Just tired from the project deadline."
Mint nodded. She was always understanding, always willing to make excuses for his mood or his distraction or his inability to be fully present. It should have been comforting. Instead, it made him feel worse.
"Jay said you've been stressed lately," she continued. "Maybe we should get some air? It's pretty crowded in here."
Mark glanced around for Jay and found him near the bar, but Jay wasn't looking at Mark. He was looking at Korn with an expression that Mark couldn't quite read. Something protective and concerned and maybe a little angry.
When Jay finally noticed Mark watching him, his expression hardened. He made his way over with two beers, handing one to Mark without a word.
"Thanks," Mark said.
Jay nodded curtly. He'd been cold ever since their conversation that afternoon, and Mark was starting to realize that his best friend's patience with his situation had finally run out.
"Who's the guy dancing with Korn?" Mark asked, trying to sound casual.
Jay's eyebrows rose. "Why do you care? I thought you were busy with your project tonight."
The sarcasm was unlike Jay, who usually preferred direct confrontation to passive-aggressive comments. It was also completely deserved, which made it sting more.
"I was just curious."
"His name is Tay. He's in Korn's constitutional law class. Nice guy. Looks like the type who would actually show up when he makes plans."
Mint looked confused. "Who's Korn?"
The question hung in the air like a challenge. Mark realized he'd never mentioned Korn to Mint, had never acknowledged that there was anyone else in his life who might matter. To Mint, Mark was probably just a guy she'd been casually seeing, someone fun and uncomplicated who didn't come with relationship drama or expectations.
She had no idea that her presence here represented the destruction of something that had meant everything to someone else.
"Just a guy from campus," Mark said finally, the words tasting like ash in his mouth.
Jay's expression turned disgusted. "Yeah. Just a guy."
"Jay, what's wrong?" Mint asked, clearly picking up on the tension even if she didn't understand its source.
"Nothing's wrong," Jay said, but he was looking at Mark with something that might have been disappointment or anger or both. "I just need some air."
He walked away before Mark could respond, leaving Mark alone with Mint and the weight of his own choices.
Meanwhile, Prem was conducting his own careful surveillance from across the room. He'd positioned himself with a clear view of both Korn and Mark, watching the subtle drama unfold with the attention of someone who had invested considerable time in understanding the dynamics at play.
Bank followed his gaze and whistled low. "Well, this is interesting."
"What?"
"Your law student is here. And he's not alone." Bank pointed toward the dance floor where Korn was laughing at something Tay had said. "Looks like someone's moving on."
Prem felt something cold and sharp twist in his chest. This wasn't part of the plan. Korn was supposed to be hurt and vulnerable, not dancing with some random guy who had probably never noticed him before tonight. Not looking happy and confident and like he was perfectly capable of attracting attention without needing to be rescued.
"And there's his boyfriend," Bank continued, nodding toward Mark's group. "With a girl. That's got to hurt."
"They're not together," Prem said automatically.
Bank gave him a curious look. "How do you know that?"
Prem realized his mistake too late. He'd been watching Korn long enough to know the relationship was secret, but admitting that would raise questions he wasn't prepared to answer.
"I just meant it doesn't look like they're here together," he said carefully.
"Hmm." Bank was watching him with questioning eyes. "You know, for someone who's been too shy to even talk to this guy, you seem to know an awful lot about his personal life."
Prem was just about to respond when he saw Mark getting up from his table and heading their way. For a moment, Prem thought Mark was coming to their VIP section, but instead he stopped right in front of Jay, who happened to be standing near their area. Jay's voice was tense but controlled as he spoke.
"You know what? I'm done. I'm done watching you lie to everyone, including yourself. You want to pretend like he doesn't matter? Fine. But don't expect me to pretend along with you."
The conversation was quiet, meant only for the two of them, though Prem could catch pieces of it from where he sat nearby. Mark's face had gone pale, and from across the room, Prem could see Mint looking confused, wondering what was going on between Mark and Jay.
"Jay, calm down," Mark said, but his voice lacked conviction.
"Calm down? You've been stringing along two people for months, and you want me to calm down?" Jay's voice was still controlled but intense. "At least have the decency to be honest about what you're doing."
Prem felt a surge of satisfaction. This was exactly the kind of confrontation that would leave Korn hurt and looking for an escape. All Prem had to do was position himself correctly and—
But as he watched, Korn said something to Tay and stepped back from the dance floor. He smiled and gestured toward the back of the club, probably excusing himself to use the bathroom. Tay nodded understandingly and headed back toward the bar. Mark, still in the middle of his tense conversation with Jay, caught sight of Korn moving across the club. Without a word to Jay, Mark abruptly broke away from their conversation and made a beeline in that same direction.
"Korn, wait—" Mark called out, reaching for his arm.
Korn pulled his arm away without even looking back and disappeared into the bathroom. Mark hesitated for only a moment before following him inside.
Prem realized this was the opportunity he'd been waiting for. Bank, who had been watching the drama unfold alongside him, nudged his shoulder. "What the hell you waiting for? Go get him if you want him. This is your chance."
Prem didn't need to be told twice. He got up and began making his way toward the bathroom.
From across the club, Ping and Gun had watched Mark follow Korn and exchanged worried glances. Jay stood frozen where Mark had left him, clearly debating whether he should intervene. Mint looked around confused, still trying to understand what had just happened. And at their VIP table, Bank leaned back with interest, curious to see how his friend would handle this opportunity.
Everyone seemed to be holding their breath, wondering what would happen next.