Korn made it exactly three steps toward his friends' table before they descended on him like a pack of concerned wolves.
"Oh my god, are you okay?" Ping grabbed his arm, eyes wide with worry and barely contained excitement. "We saw Mark follow you and then—"
"What happened in there?" Gun interrupted quietly, his observant gaze scanning Korn's face for signs of distress. "You look shaken."
Nara appeared on his other side, her expression fierce and protective. "Did he hurt you? Because I swear to god, if that asshole touched you—"
"I'm fine," Korn said honestly, though his voice came out shakier than he intended. "I'm fine, really."
Tay, who had been waiting awkwardly near their table since Korn disappeared, stepped forward with obvious concern. "I saw him go after you. I was about to follow, but then that other guy..." He trailed off, clearly confused about his place in whatever drama had just unfolded.
"The business student," Ping said, his voice taking on a different tone. "P'Prem. He went in after both of you."
All four of them were staring at Korn now, waiting for an explanation he wasn't sure he could give. How could he explain what had happened when he didn't fully understand it himself?
"Mark wanted to talk," Korn began slowly. "He followed me to the bathroom and... he was upset about seeing me with someone else. He wanted another chance."
"And?" Nara prompted, her arms crossed. "What did you tell him?"
"I told him it was too late." The words felt strange in his mouth, like he was telling someone else's story. "I told him I was tired of being his secret."
Gun nodded approvingly. "Good. You deserved better than what he was giving you."
"But then P'Prem showed up," Ping continued, his eyes bright with curiosity. "And from what we could see from here, things got... intense."
Korn felt heat rise in his cheeks as he remembered the kiss. The way Prem had cupped his face so gently, the way he'd spoken like he wanted to protect Korn from everything that had hurt him. The way it had felt to be claimed so publicly, so decisively.
"He helped me," Korn said quietly. "Mark was getting aggressive, and P'Prem... he made him back off."
"How convenient," Nara said dryly. "That he just happened to show up at exactly the right moment."
"What do you mean?" Korn asked, though something uncomfortable twisted in his stomach.
"I mean," Nara said carefully, "that guy has been watching you all night. Hell, he's been watching you since he walked in. Don't you think it's a little suspicious that he knew exactly when you needed rescuing?"
Ping elbowed her sharply. "Nara."
"What? I'm just saying what we're all thinking." Nara's expression softened slightly as she looked at Korn. "I'm not trying to ruin your knight-in-shining-armor moment. I'm just saying that rich guys from the business faculty don't usually involve themselves in other people's drama unless they have a reason."
"I don't care what his reason was," Korn said, surprising himself with the defensive edge in his voice. "I was glad he showed up because Mark was getting very rough with me."
"I'm glad he helped you," Gun said diplomatically. "But you don't really know him, do you? I mean, before tonight."
The question hit closer to home than Korn wanted to admit. What did he actually know about Prem? That he was wealthy, popular, confident. That he had kind eyes and expensive cologne. That he'd made Korn feel safe and wanted and visible in a way that Mark never had.
But Gun was right. He didn't really know Prem at all.
"First you guys want me to meet new people, and now you're questioning someone who's being nice and helped me," Korn said, surprising himself with how defensive he sounded.
"I know, but that kiss..." Tay said quietly. "That was in front of the entire club. Was that even necessary?"
"Necessary or not, I liked it," Korn said, feeling his cheeks flush.
"He kissed you like he owned you," Ping said, his voice a mix of admiration and concern. "Right there in front of everyone. Including Mark."
"It wasn't like that," Korn protested, but even as he said it, he remembered the possessive way Prem's arm had tightened around his waist. The way he'd positioned himself between Korn and Mark like he was claiming territory.
"Wasn't it?" Nara asked gently. "Korn, honey, I'm happy that someone stood up for you. Really. But that kiss... that wasn't about protecting you. That was about marking you."
The words sent a chill through Korn's chest, but before he could respond, he saw that Gun was looking past him toward the VIP section.
"He's coming over here," Gun said quietly.
Across the club, Bank was nursing his third beer and trying to process what he'd just witnessed. When Prem had gotten up to follow the drama into the bathroom, Bank had expected his friend to maybe offer some comfort, maybe finally work up the courage to introduce himself properly.
He had not expected Prem to emerge fifteen minutes later and proceed to claim the guy with the kind of public display that would have the entire campus talking by Monday.
"Holy shit," Fourth breathed, appearing at Bank's elbow with wide eyes. "Did P'Prem just—"
"Yeah," Bank said grimly. "He did."
Jane slid into the booth across from them, her expression a mix of awe and concern. "I've never seen him like that. So... intense. That wasn't just a kiss, that was a statement."
Bank nodded, watching Prem guide Korn through the crowd with possessive certainty. Everything about his friend's body language screamed ownership in a way that made Bank's stomach twist uncomfortably.
"How long has he been interested in that guy?" Jane asked.
"Months," Bank admitted. "But I thought it was just... you know, a crush. Maybe some shy admiration from afar. I had no idea it was this deep."
"Deep?" Fourth's voice cracked slightly. "Bank, that looked obsessive. The way he kissed him in front of everyone like he was marking territory, the way he had his arm around him afterward..."
Bank wanted to defend his friend, but the words stuck in his throat. Because Fourth was right. That hadn't looked like romantic interest or even protective instinct. It had looked like someone claiming what they believed already belonged to them.
"Maybe we're overthinking it," Jane said, though she didn't sound convinced. "Maybe he just finally worked up the courage to make a move."
"And happened to know exactly what to say and do?" Bank shook his head. "You guys didn't see him earlier. He's been watching that kid all night. Hell, he's been watching him for months."
The words hung heavy between them. Bank felt like he was betraying Prem by voicing his concerns, but the alternative was staying silent while his friend potentially ruined someone's life.
"We should go," Fourth said quietly. "This feels wrong. Like we're watching something we shouldn't be watching."
Bank was about to agree when Prem reappeared at their table, sliding back into the booth like nothing had happened. His hair was slightly mussed, his lips swollen from kissing, but his expression was calm and satisfied as he gave them a small smirk before reaching for his drink.
"Dude," Bank said slowly. "What the hell just happened?"
Prem's smile was enigmatic. "I helped someone who needed help."
"Helping?" Jane snorted. "Is that what we're calling it? Because from here it looked more like you were giving him CPR with your mouth."
"Don't be dramatic," Prem said, but there was something cold in his eyes that Bank had never seen before. "Korn was in a difficult situation with his ex. I stepped in. End of story."
"How did you even know his name?" Fourth asked quietly. "You said you'd never talked to him."
For just a moment, Prem's composure slipped. Bank caught a glimpse of something calculating behind his friend's easy smile, the same look he'd seen once before back in high school. That face, those looks he was giving their friends - Prem was slipping back to his old ways, and Bank didn't like it.
"We've talked," Prem said smoothly. "Not extensively, but we're not complete strangers."
Another lie. Bank was certain of it. He'd been Prem's best friend since childhood, and he knew when Prem was constructing a narrative to fit his needs.
"What are you going to do now?" Bank asked.
"I'm taking him home. He's had a rough night, and he needs someone to look after him properly."
The possessiveness in his tone was unmistakable. Not "I'm giving him a ride" or "I offered to drive him." He was taking Korn home, like it was already decided, like Korn belonged to him now.
"What about his friends?" Fourth asked quietly. "They seemed kind of close. Maybe he's leaving with them?"
Prem's expression hardened slightly. "His friends don't understand what he needs. They're too caught up in their own drama to see that he deserves better."
"And you know what he needs?" Bank couldn't keep the edge out of his voice. "You just met his friends five minutes ago. What drama are you even talking about?"
"I know what he deserves," Prem corrected smoothly. "Someone who won't cancel dates to be with other people. Someone who won't make him feel like he has to hide. Someone who appreciates what they have."
It was a perfectly crafted response, designed to make Prem sound like the romantic hero of the story. But Bank heard the calculation behind it, the way Prem was already rewriting the narrative to justify his actions.
"So you're his knight in shining armor now?" Bank asked. "Come on, Prem. We've been down this road before. Are you sure you want to take it there?"
Prem gave him a look that immediately shut him up.
Prem's smile turned sharp. "If that's what he needs, then yes. And from what I could see tonight, that's exactly what he needs."
"What did you mean by that?" Jane asked, looking between Bank and Prem with confusion.
"Nothing," Prem said sharply, cutting off any explanation. "It's nothing."
"Prem, I know we don't have the same history as you and Bank, but from what I'm seeing, you're moving things a little too fast. Plus you just met him properly tonight." She reached over and squeezed his arm.
"Sometimes you know," Prem said simply. "Sometimes you see someone who's been treated badly, and you know you can do better. Tonight just gave me the opportunity to prove it."
Bank dropped his head into his hands. Everything about Prem's tone suggested ownership, control, a game already won. There was no uncertainty, no nervousness about a new relationship. Just the confidence of someone who had successfully executed a plan.
"It means," Bank said carefully, lifting his head and looking Prem straight in the eyes, "that you just inserted yourself into someone else's relationship drama in a very public way, and now you're isolating him from his friends. It means I'm worried about what you're really doing here. And I'm warning you now - I won't stand on the sidelines this time."
The table fell silent. Fourth and Jane exchanged nervous glances while Prem stared at Bank with an expression that was equal parts hurt and anger.
"I can't believe you think I would hurt him," Prem said finally. "Everything I did tonight was to protect him."
"Protect him from what? His ex? Or from having choices?"
"Bank." Prem's voice carried a warning that Bank had never heard before. "You're crossing a line."
"Am I? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you orchestrated this entire situation. The mixer invitation, showing up here tonight, knowing exactly when to intervene..." Bank leaned forward. "How long have you been planning this?"
Prem stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't I?" Bank stood too, suddenly not caring about making a scene. "Prem, I've known you my entire life. I know when you're being manipulative. What I don't know is why you're doing it to some innocent law student who just got his heart broken."
"He's not innocent," Prem snapped, then immediately looked like he regretted the words.
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing. I just... he's not some helpless victim, Bank. He made his own choices tonight."
"After you manipulated the situation to give him exactly the choices you wanted him to make."
Prem's jaw clenched. "I'm not having this conversation with you. Not here, not now."
"Then when?" Bank demanded. "After you've completely isolated him from everyone who cares about him? After you've convinced him that you're his only option?"
"You're being paranoid."
"Am I? Then prove it. Bring him around campus this week. Let him maintain his friendships. Don't make him dependent on you for everything."
Prem stared at him for a long moment, and Bank saw something flicker across his friend's face that looked almost like panic. As if the thought of Korn maintaining independence was genuinely threatening.
"You know what happened the last time," Bank said quietly. "Only you and I are left now."
"I'm not discussing this further," Prem said finally. "I'm going to take Korn home, and then we're going to see where things go naturally. If you can't support that, then maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do."
As he started to walk away, Bank grabbed his wrist. "Prem. Whatever you're planning, whatever this is to you... he's a real person. With real feelings. Don't destroy him just because you can."
Prem looked down at Bank's hand on his wrist, then back up at his face. For a moment, something hurt and desperate flickered in his eyes.
"I'm in love with him," Prem said quietly. "It'll be different this time. You'll see."
He pulled free and walked away, leaving Bank with the terrible certainty that his best friend had just lied to him about something that mattered more than either of them understood.
"Sorry to interrupt," Prem's voice was smooth and apologetic as he appeared beside Korn's group. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That was... a lot."
Up close, surrounded by Korn's friends, Prem looked even more polished than he had in the bathroom. His expensive shirt was still perfectly pressed despite the confrontation, his hair styled with casual precision. Everything about him screamed money and confidence and control.
"I'm fine," Korn said, acutely aware of how his friends were studying Prem like he was a puzzle they were trying to solve.
"P'Prem, right?" Ping stepped forward with his characteristic boldness. "From the business faculty?"
"That's right." Prem's smile was charming, practiced. "And you're Korn's friends. He's mentioned you."
It was a lie, smoothly delivered. Korn had never mentioned his friends to Prem because they'd never had a real conversation before tonight. But somehow, Prem made it sound natural, like they'd been talking for weeks.
"Really?" Gun's voice was carefully neutral. "When was that?"
Prem's smile never wavered. "We've run into each other around campus a few times. The law library, mostly. Korn's very dedicated to his studies."
Another lie, or at least a carefully twisted version of the truth. They hadn't run into each other – Prem had been watching him. But the way he said it made it sound like casual encounters, friendly conversations that had built up over time.
"How nice," Nara said, her tone suggesting it was anything but. "And you just happened to be in the right place at the right time tonight."
"Lucky coincidence," Prem agreed easily. "Though I'm glad I could help. No one should have to deal with that kind of harassment."
Tay shifted uncomfortably. "Maybe I should go. This seems like... a lot to process."
"You don't have to leave," Korn started, but Tay was already backing away.
"It's okay. We can catch up later, maybe when things are less... complicated." Tay's smile was understanding but disappointed. "I'm glad you're safe."
As Tay melted back into the crowd, Korn felt a stab of regret. Tay was sweet, uncomplicated, exactly the kind of person his friends thought he should be interested in. But standing next to Prem's commanding presence, Tay seemed almost... insignificant.
"I should get you home," Prem said, his hand warm on Korn's shoulder. "You've had enough drama for one night."
"We can take him home," Gun said quickly. "We came together."
"I have a car," Prem replied smoothly. "It's no trouble. Besides, I think Korn and I have some things to talk about."
It wasn't really a question, and somehow it didn't feel like Korn had much choice in the matter. Not with Prem's hand on his shoulder, not with the memory of how safe he'd felt in the bathroom, not with the way Prem was looking at him like he was something precious that needed protecting.
"I..." Korn glanced at his friends, seeing the concern in their faces. "Maybe that would be good. I think I need some air anyway."
Ping's expression was torn between worry and excitement. "Are you sure? We could all leave together, grab some late-night food, talk through everything that happened."
"I'm sure," Korn said, though he wasn't sure of anything anymore. "P'Prem's right. We should probably talk."
Nara stepped closer, her voice low enough that only Korn could hear. "Text us when you get home, okay? And if you need anything, anything at all, you call us immediately."
"I will," Korn promised, touched by her protective instinct even as part of him resented the implication that he needed protecting.
"Ready?" Prem asked, and somehow the question felt loaded with meaning.
As they walked away from his friends, Korn could feel their eyes following him. He could imagine the conversation they'd have the moment he was out of earshot – Ping dramatic and worried, Gun quietly concerned, Nara listing all the red flags they'd just witnessed.
But walking beside Prem, feeling the strength and confidence radiating from him, those concerns felt distant and overblown. Maybe his friends were just protective. Maybe they couldn't understand what it felt like to finally have someone who seemed genuinely interested in taking care of him.
Maybe they were just jealous that someone like Prem – wealthy, attractive, confident – had chosen Korn.
As they reached the club's exit, Prem's hand moved from his shoulder to the small of his back, guiding him through the crowd with possessive certainty. It should have felt presumptuous, but instead it felt... right. Like someone was finally taking charge of a situation that had been spiraling out of control for months.
Behind them, the club pulsed with music and laughter and the kind of carefree energy that Korn felt like he'd been missing his entire life. But ahead of them, in the quiet darkness of the parking lot, was something that felt like possibility.
Even if he couldn't shake the feeling that he was walking into something much more complicated than he understood.
Outside in the parking lot, Korn stood next to a sleek black BMW that probably cost more than his family's yearly income. The contrast between his own modest clothes and the luxury surrounding him felt symbolic of something, though he wasn't sure what.
"Nice car," he said lamely, trying to fill the silence.
"Thank you." Prem opened the passenger door for him politely. "It was a graduation gift from my parents."
Of course it was. Korn slid into the leather seat, immediately feeling out of place among the high-end interior. Everything smelled like expensive cologne and leather, a world away from the cramped dorm room he shared with two other law students.
Prem settled into the driver's seat and started the engine, the sound purring to life. For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence.
"Thank you," Korn said finally. "For tonight. For stepping in. You didn't have to do that."
"Yes, I did." Prem's voice was soft but certain. "No one should have to face that kind of confrontation alone."
"Still. You barely know me, and you just... you put yourself in the middle of my mess."
Prem turned to look at him, and in the dim lighting of the parking lot, his expression was unreadable. "Maybe I wanted to know you better."
The words sent a flutter through Korn's chest. "Really?"
"Really." Prem reached over and brushed a strand of hair from Korn's forehead, the gesture tender and intimate. "I've been watching you around campus for a while, actually. Wondering if I'd ever work up the courage to talk to you."
"You were watching me?" Korn felt heat rise in his cheeks, though he wasn't sure if it was from embarrassment or something else.
"Is that creepy?" Prem's smile was self-deprecating. "I know it sounds creepy. I just... there's something about you. The way you focus when you study, the way you laugh with your friends. You seem so genuine in a world full of people playing games."
Korn thought about Mark, about three months of feeling like he was always playing by rules that changed without warning. "I hate games."
"I know." Prem's hand found his, fingers intertwining naturally. "That's what I noticed about you first. You're honest. Real. You let your emotions show - not everyone shows their feelings like that. It's rare."
The praise felt like warm honey, sweet and coating. When was the last time someone had complimented his character rather than just his appearance? When was the last time someone had seen him, really seen him, rather than just wanting what he could provide?
"Where do you live?" Prem asked, putting the car in gear.
Korn gave him directions to the law faculty dormitory, acutely aware of how shabby it would seem compared to wherever Prem lived. Probably some expensive apartment off campus, maybe even a condo his parents had bought him.
As they drove through the Bangkok streets, Korn found himself studying Prem's profile in the passing streetlights. Strong jaw, perfect posture, hands steady on the steering wheel like he was confident about everything he touched. So different from Mark's nervous energy, his constant need for validation and approval.
"Can I ask you something?" Korn said.
"Anything."
"Why tonight? I mean, if you've been thinking about talking to me for months, why did you choose tonight to introduce yourself?"
Prem was quiet for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "Honestly? I'd seen you two together before around campus, so I knew you were involved with Mark. When I saw him follow you toward the bathroom tonight, something about his body language..." Prem shook his head. "I've seen guys like him before. He wants to hide who he is from the world, but to me you're worth showing the world."
It was exactly what Korn had wanted to hear, everything Mark had never been willing to give him.
"How did you know he was my ex?" Korn asked. "I never told anyone we were dating. We kept it secret."
Prem's hands tightened almost imperceptibly on the steering wheel. "I... I'm not going to lie to you. I've been watching you. I've been waiting for my chance to get to know you, and when I went inside that bathroom and heard the words you were saying, I knew then it was over between you two."
The admission should have been alarming, but somehow it felt honest in a way that Mark had never been. At least Prem wasn't lying to him or making excuses.
"Here," Korn said as they pulled up to his dormitory building. "You can drop me off here."
But Prem was already getting out of the car, moving around to open Korn's door before he could do it himself. The gesture was sweet, old-fashioned, the kind of thing Korn had always wished Mark would do.
"I'll walk you up," Prem said.
"You don't have to—"
"I want to." Prem's smile was warm. "Besides, I want to make sure you get inside safely. After tonight, I'm not taking any chances."
They walked through the dormitory entrance together, past the night security guard who nodded politely. In the elevator, Korn became hyperaware of Prem's presence beside him – the expensive scent of his cologne, the confidence in his posture, the way he seemed to fill the small space entirely.
"This is me," Korn said when they reached his floor.
Prem followed him down the hallway to his door, waiting patiently while Korn fumbled for his keys. His hands were shaking slightly, though he wasn't sure if it was from nerves or excitement or the lingering adrenaline from the night's drama.
"Korn," Prem said softly as Korn finally got his door open.
"Yeah?"
Prem stepped closer, close enough that Korn could feel the warmth radiating from his body. "I meant what I said tonight. About taking care of you. I know you don't really know me yet, but I'd like you to. I'd like the chance to show you what it's like to be with someone who puts you first."
The words were everything Korn had wanted to hear from Mark for months. Someone who wanted to prioritize him, who wasn't ashamed to be seen with him, who seemed genuinely interested in his well-being.
"I'd like that too," Korn heard himself say.
Prem's smile was brilliant. "Good. Then maybe I can take you to dinner tomorrow? Somewhere nice. Somewhere we can talk properly."
"Tomorrow's Saturday," Korn said honestly.
"Is that a problem?"
"No, I just... I usually study on Saturdays. With my friends."
Something flickered across Prem's expression, too quick to interpret. "Of course. Your studies are important. Maybe Sunday then?"
"Sunday would be good."
"Perfect." Prem leaned in and kissed him softly, a gentle brush of lips that somehow felt more intimate than their public display at the club. "Sleep well, Korn. And remember – you don't have to deal with anything alone anymore."
As he turned to leave, Prem paused. "Oh, by the way, let me see your phone."
Korn handed it over without thinking, still caught up in the warmth of the moment. Prem quickly dialed his own number, letting it ring once before hanging up.
"Now we have a way to communicate," Prem said with a smile, handing the phone back. "Make sure you save my number. I'll text you tomorrow about dinner."
As Prem walked away, Korn stood in his doorway watching until the elevator doors closed. Only then did he go inside, locking the door behind him and leaning against it with a breathless smile.
His phone buzzed immediately. A text from Ping: "Are you home safe? How did it go?"
Then Gun: "Text us back so we know you're okay."
Then Nara: "I don't care what time it is. Call me if you need anything."
Korn stared at the messages, feeling a complicated mix of gratitude and irritation. His friends meant well, but their concern felt almost suffocating after Prem's easy confidence. Why couldn't they just be happy that someone like Prem was interested in him?
He typed back a quick group message: "Home safe. Going to bed. Talk tomorrow."
Then he got ready for bed, trying not to think about the worried looks on his friends' faces. Just as he was settling into bed, his phone buzzed with a new message from Prem: "Made it home safe as well. Good night again. I can't wait to spend some time with you."
Korn smiled at the message, feeling a warm flutter in his chest. He quickly typed back: "Good night. I can't wait either." Then he set his phone aside and settled into bed, his mind drifting to the memory of Prem's hands cupping his face, how protected he'd felt when Prem stepped between him and Mark. Sunday's dinner couldn't come soon enough - finally, someone who actually wanted to take care of him.
As he drifted off to sleep, Korn couldn't shake the feeling that his life had just taken a dramatic turn. Whether it was for better or worse remained to be seen.
But for the first time in months, he felt like someone actually wanted him. And that was enough to quiet all the other voices in his head, at least for tonight.