THAILAND
"Elena!"
Margaret called from the doorway.
"Mæ̀. I'm here."
Elena stepped out of her room, as beautiful as ever.
Today was Elena's first day at San'ya Private College, one of the few students sponsored by the government.
"You shouldn't be late for your screening," Margaret said, her voice loud enough for the neighbours to hear.
Together, they left the house.
Soon, they arrived at San'ya College. The tall gates loomed ahead, students moving in and out in quiet clusters. Margaret, unable to hide her joy, pulled Elena into a tight embrace before leaving her at the entrance.
The registration process passed smoothly. By midday, Margaret had already left for work, leaving Elena alone among unfamiliar faces.
An ID card, a stack of documents, and a timetable—by the end of the day, it was official. Elena was now a student in the Faculty of Fine and Applied Arts.
She soon recognized a familiar face—her former schoolteacher. Smiling, they walked through the campus together. He introduced her to several lecturers, old friends of his, who greeted her warmly.
One of them studied her a moment longer than necessary, his expression unreadable.
The lecture room smelled faintly of paint and paper. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, dust motes drifting lazily in the air. As Elena took her seat, the tension in her shoulders eased. For the first time that day, she felt at peace.
By the time Elena settled into her seat, the lecture had already begun.
It was a whole fun class of introduction and interaction. Elena felt more social than in her secondary school; the lecturer would throw jokes when he felt the students were lost.
Soon, the closing hour approached. Elena was packing her bag when her cellphone vibrated in her hand.
Mother.
She answered quickly.
Margaret was already waiting at the gate, deep in conversation with the security men. When Elena approached, Margaret turned and smiled, relief softening her expression.
They walked home together beneath the fading afternoon light.
Elena talked nonstop, her words spilling over one another—about the lecture room, the lecturers, the way the campus felt larger than she had imagined. Margaret listened quietly, smiling, occasionally nodding, letting her daughter's excitement wash over her.
For that moment, nothing else mattered.
A week passed, and Elena had grown accustomed to the school's environment. Classes flowed naturally now, almost routine.
That morning, however, a sudden cramp twisted sharply in her stomach. She excused herself and hurried toward the restroom.
As she approached, a sound stopped her mid-step.
A low voice. Strained. Interrupted by another breathless murmur.
Elena froze.
Her heart began to pound as she realized the sound wasn't coming from the women's restroom—but the one beside it.
A whispered name hung in the air. Unmistakably intimate.
"Ah. Phukan...! ."
"Hia..."
Her fingers trembled as she instinctively reached for her phone, then stopped. Whatever was happening in there was not meant to be seen.
Heat rushed to her face. Her stomach churned.
She turned away abruptly, her footsteps quickening as she put distance between herself and the door, the echoes of those sounds following her down the hallway.
By the time she reached the far end of the corridor, her hands were shaking.
She entered the women's restroom, gripping the edge of the sink as she struggled to steady her breathing.
Cold water splashed against her face. Once. Twice.
Her reflection stared back at her—eyes wide, cheeks flushed, expression unsettled. "That voice sounds feminine."
After a moment, she straightened, forcing herself to breathe normally.
When she returned to class, her body was present, but her mind lagged, replaying sounds she wished she could forget.
When Elena returned to the classroom, it was nearly empty.
Murmurs echoed from the hallway—excited, rising, chaotic. Before she could sit down, a group of girls rushed past her, heading toward the balcony.
Confused, Elena followed.
"Sawasdee krap!" a woman shouted from below, waving energetically.
Elena leaned over the railing.
Downstairs, a convoy had just entered the premises. Students crowded around it, phones raised, voices overlapping as they followed its slow advance across the campus.
Curiosity tugged at her unease.
She turned to the girl beside her.
"Who is that?"
The girl spun toward her, eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Thī̀rạk...!" she squealed, grabbing Elena's arm. "That's Joel Krap — from Cali. He's my icon. My idol. My sweet beauty."
She laughed breathlessly, giving Elena's shoulder an enthusiastic shove.
The crowd slowly began to disperse, voices fading as students returned to their classes and others trailed the vehicle. Elena seized the moment to slip away from the excited girls and their endless explanations.
From the administrative building, a student lingered by the window, watching the scene below.
"You are welcome, young lord. It's a pleasure having you here."
Two broad-shouldered men stood guard as Michael Joel entered the office alongside a woman. Their presence alone drew attention.
The rector stepped forward, smiling as he shook hands with them.
Moments later, the lingering student was ushered away as a lecturer began calling out sharply—class was about to begin.
The day felt unusually dramatic for Elena.
The lecture was still ongoing when her phone rang.
Her heart lurched. She silenced it immediately—but it was too late.
"Bring the phone here."
The professor's voice was sharp, cutting through the room as he continued speaking, unfazed.
Heat crept up Elena's neck. She stood, gripping the phone tightly as she walked down the stairs toward the lectern, every step heavier than the last. The room was painfully quiet.
She placed the phone on the desk.
The lecture ended earlier than usual, dismissed. As students moved out, staring at her, Elena remained seated, staring at her empty desk.
The lecturer left with her phone.
She stayed behind, loneliness settling heavily in her chest. She carried her bag out of the classroom, forcing her steps to remain steady, even as her chest felt tight.
She barely made it a few steps before she collided with someone.
"Hey, baby!"
The girl from earlier—the one who couldn't stop talking about Joel—came to an abrupt stop in front of her, waving enthusiastically.
Elena pressed her lips together, trying to hold herself together.
"What happened?" the girl asked, her tone softening as she took in Elena's expression.
That was all it took.
Elena's composure cracked. Tears welled up as she explained what had happened, her words tumbling out unevenly. The girl listened carefully, nodding in understanding.
"I've been there," she hissed. "Don't worry. You can still get it back."
She explained how she had once pleaded with a lecturer in a similar situation, and together they headed toward the staff room.
As they stepped inside, Elena's breath caught.
By the lecturer's desk sat a man dressed in purple, one leg crossed over the other, engaged in quiet conversation with the very lecturer who had confiscated her phone.
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Elena felt a sudden emptiness as the girl beside her suddenly fled, cheeks flushed, leaving her alone in the room.
For a moment, Elena hesitated.
Then she stepped forward.
"Yes, Mr. Joel. Thank you," the lecturer said, nodding with obvious deference.
At the sound of his name, the man in purple shifted his gaze.
Joel's eyes landed on Elena.
He was more handsome than she thought, not recognising his striking features; her mind recalled why she was here.
She stood a little too close, fingers curled tightly at her side. For a brief second, he assumed she was another overzealous admirer—until she didn't smile, didn't rush forward, didn't reach for him.
Instead, she stood there, silent.
"Why are you here?" the lecturer snapped suddenly. "Leave my office."
The sharpness of his voice cut through her composure.
Elena drew in a shaky breath. She tried to speak, but her throat closed.
How can I explain to Mum? She will be mad at me. And it's my first month in college.
Tears slipped free, trailing down her lashes despite her effort to stop them.
Joel felt an unexpected, quick ache tighten in his chest as disgust took his facial expression.
But watching her cry like that—quietly, helplessly—stirred something sharp and unfamiliar.
He spun.
The lecturer straightened immediately, caught off guard by the sudden shift in the room.
"What did she do?"
Joel's voice was calm—but edged with steel.
"Sir, mobile phones are not permitted during lectures," the lecturer said quickly, gesturing toward the phone on his desk. "She failed to comply."
Joel's gaze flicked briefly to Elena.
Tears still clung to her lashes.
He stood.
The sound of the chair scraping against the floor was loud in the sudden silence.
"You reduced a student to tears," he hissed. Joel never loved seeing people in tears, not when it was silent tears.
The lecturer swallowed and stood as well, clutching Elena's phone. Across the room, another lecturer kept his eyes fixed firmly on his laptop, pretending not to exist.
Who wants to be fired!
"I—I'm sorry, sir," the lecturer stammered. "I was only enforcing discipline."
"This is a college," Joel replied evenly as he shrugged into his coat. "Not a prison. These students are adults."
He met the lecturer's eyes.
"And you abused your authority."
Elena stiffened as one of Joel's bodyguards stepped closer, his presence looming.
Without a word, Joel reached out and took the phone from the lecturer's hand. His expression was unreadable as he glanced at it—then he turned and placed it gently into Elena's palm.
She looked down at it, stunned.
Joel turned to leave, stopping only when he realized she was still frozen in place.
He turned back.
"You."
He pointed at her.
Elena blinked, startled. "Me?"
"Follow me."
He didn't wait for an answer.
Joel strode out of the office, slamming the door shut behind him—cutting off his bodyguards mid-step.
Elena followed quietly as the lecturer returned to his seat, shoulders stiff with shame. Outside, the bodyguards opened the door without a word, stepping aside to let her through.
Joel stood waiting.
She approached him slowly; her steps were cautious.
"Good," he said simply.
Only then did Elena lift her gaze to meet his. His expression held a faint curve of approval—nothing more.
A woman in her late forties approached them, her heels clicking softly against the floor.
"Joel," she said warmly. "You're done already?"
She stopped beside him, smiling.
Joel adjusted his coat and glanced at Elena again.
"And you are?"
Elena swallowed.
"Elena," she mumbled.
"I like you."
The words landed without warning—sharp, deliberate.
Elena's breath caught. "Ju—"
"Shh."
He lifted a finger slightly, silencing her without touching her.
For a moment, she felt trapped beneath his gaze. Then she smiled faintly, slipping her phone into her bag as if grounding herself.
The woman cleared her throat. "Joel. You're expected home."
He slid his sunglasses back on. "Why?"
She sighed, already used to his defiance. "Your father requested it."
Joel clicked his tongue softly but said nothing.
Before turning away, his gaze returned to Elena—slow, assessing.
"I said I like you," he repeated, quieter this time.
Elena swallowed. "Thank you—"
"No," he interrupted gently. "Say it in Thai."
Her lips curved despite herself.
"K̄hxbkhuṇ th̀ān (You're welcome!), Mr. Joel. I'm flattered."
A flicker of satisfaction crossed his face.
"Lā k̀xn (Goodbye)," he said, waving once before walking away without another glance.
Elena stood there, heart racing, watching him disappear down the corridor. She stood short of words.
She barely had time to breathe before students poured out from hiding places, voices overlapping.
"Are you his girlfriend?"
"You never told us you knew him!"
"Do you know him personally?!"
Hands grabbed at her sleeves. Laughter burst around her.
Elena smiled weakly, overwhelmed.
By the end of the day, her name was everywhere.
Elena realized she was no longer invisible—and it terrified her.