In the morning, Yeh, Jane, Lin, and Jing were waiting in the hotel lobby.
Outside the glass doors, a man in sunglasses, a T-shirt, and casual pants lifted a hand in greeting.
It was PYang—an old friend of Yeh's who is a associate professor at a university in Bangkok. Every time she came to the city, she will meet PYang.
Yeh walked over and tapped his shoulder.
"You finally made it."
"Been tied up with school events," PYang said, easily taking her backpack. "Come on. I'll show you around the old town."
They got into a tuk-tuk and wove through the crowded streets.
The noise of the city swallowed their conversations, leaving only laughter and wind.
Along Charoen Krung Road, the storefronts looked as if their signs hadn't changed in decades.
PYang walked at the front of the group, glancing back at Yeh from time to time.
"The milk tea here is good. Try it."
He handed her the cup, unwrapped the straw for her.
Yeh nodded and smiled, relaxed, almost light.
Lin walked beside Jing, each holding a bottle of iced water.
Jing cracked a joke; Lin laughed, her eyes narrowing slightly. It was an easy, everyday closeness. Yeh caught the scene in the corner of her eye.
At lunch, the restaurant was filled with wooden tables and the steady whir of ceiling fans.
PYang sat next to Yeh and placed a dish into her bowl.
"This one's good. You'll like it."
Yeh looked up and smiled softly. "Thanks."
She didn't mean to, but her tone carried a faint gentleness—the kind that came from being looked after.
Lin, sitting across from her, noticed.
Jing was pouring drinks, casually rolling Lin's sleeve up a little. "Careful. You'll dip it in the soup."
Yeh lowered her head. Her fork tapped lightly against the edge of the plate.
The sound was small, but it landed squarely in her chest.
She suddenly felt like someone pretending not to care.
Someone a little ridiculous.
By evening, they were in Chinatown, packed so tightly with people that each step took effort.
When a wave of tourists pushed toward them, PYang instinctively slipped an arm around Yeh's shoulder to steady her.
From ahead, Lin turned back and glanced at Yeh.
Her expression didn't change. No displeasure. No reaction.
On the ride back, they split into two tuk-tuks.
Yeh rode with PYang. Lin took the other car with the rest.
PYang turned to her. "Did you have fun today?"
"Yeah," Yeh said.
Her voice was calm, touched with a tired kind of softness.
Back in her room, Yeh looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes seemed worn.
She draped a towel over her shoulder and let out a quiet, self-aware smile.
She knew exactly what she'd been doing all day—
standing a little closer to PYang, sounding gentler, talking more.
It wasn't for PYang.
It was for Lin to see.
But Lin hadn't reacted at all.
Calm as still water.
Yeh shook her head slightly.
"I'm really… ridiculous."