[Kael's pov]
Bangkok woke before the sun.
The streets below my apartment were already humming — motorbikes whining like restless bees, vendors clattering their carts as oil began to sizzle, and somewhere in the distance, a temple bell chimed once before fading into the noise.
From my balcony, the sky looked like it was being washed in pale gold, streaked with the last shades of sleepy blue.
Inside, the apartment smelled faintly of jasmine tea and puppy fur.
My dog, Sorren, was sprawled across the cool tiles, his ears twitching as if he were chasing something in his dreams. He wasn't like any ordinary dog; his dark eyes always seemed to know — as though he carried secrets he couldn't speak.
"Come on, Sorren," I whispered, nudging him with my foot. "The world's already awake."
He yawned — a wide, dramatic stretch — then padded after me, his nails clicking softly against the floor. His small presence made the emptiness of the apartment less cruel.
Living alone in Bangkok had sounded glamorous when I first moved here for college, but silence had a way of exposing all the things I wasn't brave enough to admit.
Mornings followed a rhythm.
I brewed tea, packed my books, brushed Sorren's fur, and tried to silence the ache of missing home. On weekends, I'd escape back to my parents' house — to chaos, noise, and siblings who fought only to laugh a minute later.
But during the week, it was just me and Sorren, carrying each other through the weight of the city.
Sometimes, when I looked at him, I swore he understood.
On the nights when my chest felt heavy, when I lay on the couch staring at the ceiling and wondering if life held anything more than this endless routine — Sorren would crawl closer, pressing his small body against my side as if to hold me together.
That morning, as I locked the door and stepped into the rushing day, a strange thought surfaced — gentle, but unshakable.
Perhaps the city was only the beginning.
Perhaps somewhere, waiting unseen, was the chapter my soul had been yearning for.