The cool air of the quiet house was a sharp contrast to the warmth of the usual tropical Thai weather. Winter had fully settled in, and the chill of the evening crept into the skin, an unusual but welcome shift in the atmosphere.
Daotok made his way downstairs, his footsteps muffled by the cool, still air. He had noticed that Arthit, who should have been resting beside him, had been absent for some time. The silence of their shared space felt unsettling, so Daotok decided to investigate.
When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he immediately noticed the lights outside shining through the windows. Familiar voices followed soon after,,and it didn't take much for Daotok to realize who they belonged to. His father and Daddy.
They were likely sitting outside, talking and drinking, as they often did whenever something weighed heavily on his father's mind. Daotok was certain his father was concerned about him. After their earlier conversation, it was no surprise.
Earlier that evening, as Daotok had dropped Daddy off for a soccer game with Arthit, they had talked about various things, but the conversation had slowly turned to Arthit. Daddy had been easy-going about it, trusting Daotok's choice, but his father—well, his father had always been more protective, especially when it came to Daotok's happiness.
Whenever Daotok went through something tough, it was his father who felt it the most. A sudden sound caught his attention—it was Arthit's voice, coming from outside. Daotok had thought he had simply gone to the bathroom, but now it seemed like he was sitting with Dad and Daddy, engaging in a conversation.
Relieved, Daotok approached quietly, drawn in by their words.
"If you make my son unhappy, I'll kill you. Got it?" his father said sternly, a sharp edge to his voice.
"I got it. I'll handle him," Daddy added, a bit more lightly, but no less serious. "Kid, I won't spare you if you even make my son a little upset."
Arthit's calm reply followed, "Hmm, if I ever make Dao unhappy, I'll let you kill me."
"Promise?"
"I swear on my life."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. I've already given my life to Dao."
A soft smile pulled at Daotok's lips as he overheard the exchange. His father and Daddy sat stunned for a moment before their grins spread wide.
Daotok, amused and touched by Arthit's devotion, finally stepped into view. All three men turned to him at once, their eyes shifting from surprise to warmth.
They shared a brief chat, and soon Daddy, seeing that Dad was beginning to get tipsy, gently led him back inside to rest. This left Daotok alone with Arthit in the cool night air, their connection unspoken but undeniable.
"I wondered where you had gone. Turns out you were here drinking with Dad and Daddy," Daotok remarked, his voice light, teasing.
Arthit shrugged, a smirk playing at his lips. "Came down for some water and saw your fathers drinking. Figured I'd join in. Want some?"
"Sure," Daotok responded. "How much?"
Arthit grinned. "Be careful, or I might end up getting you drunk."
"Drunk? Me? You'd need a whole case for that."
"You think you can handle it, huh?"
"More or less," Daotok replied with a grin of his own as Arthit poured whiskey into an empty glass, adding a splash of water before sliding it across the table. Their glasses clinked together, the bitter taste of the drink sliding down their throats in unison.
"What were you guys talking about?" Daotok asked after a moment.
"You didn't hear?" Arthit raised an eyebrow, as though surprised Daotok hadn't overheard more.
"I caught the part where you made a promise to Dad and Daddy," Daotok replied with a knowing smile.
Arthit laughed softly. "Oh, before that, we just talked about general stuff. Aren't you cold?"
"It's just cool. Why?" Daotok shrugged.
Arthit shivered dramatically, making Daotok laugh. "I'm freezing. At least the booze is warming me up."
"You prefer hot weather, don't you?" Daotok teased.
"Exactly," Arthit replied. "Hey, you're pretty cool, you know? Accepting your dad's new partner so easily. No issues, nothing. If it were me, no way."
Daotok blinked, surprised by the shift in conversation. "You mean if your Dad had a new partner?"
"Yeah. If Direk brought a new partner into the family, I'd kill them for sure. No one comes into my family's space without my approval. Replacing Mom? That's too much. Just thinking about it pisses me off."
Daotok could hear the underlying protectiveness in Arthit's voice, the depth of his emotions clear. "Well, just because I can accept it doesn't mean everyone else can," Daotok said softly. "But Uncle Direk wouldn't get a new partner."
"Why not?"
"Because he loves your mom very much," Daotok answered with certainty.
"Can you read Direk's mind or something?"
"No, you can just tell."
Arthit was silent for a moment, then nodded. "True. Direk knows if he gets a new partner, I'll go crazy. Besides, I'm the most important person to him, right? Who could ever be as important as me?"
Daotok couldn't help but chuckle. "You're so smug, bragging about your dad's love for you now. What about me?"
"Huh?"
"Am I allowed into your family space yet?"
Arthit's grin grew wider, his eyes gleaming. "If it were up to me, I wouldn't even ask. Direk loves you like another son. I love you like crazy. What more do you want?"
Daotok laughed, his heart swelling with affection. "Haha, okay. Ow!" he yelped as Arthit suddenly swatted his arm, knocking away a mosquito.
Arthit turned his hand to reveal the squashed insect, its blood staining his palm. "Ugh, there are so many mosquitoes. Let's go inside," he grumbled.
"Wait, what are you doing?" Daotok asked, confused as he watched Arthit smear the remains of the mosquito on the table.
"I hate this mosquito. It dared bite my boyfriend."
"It's dead. Calm down," Daotok said, exasperated but amused.
"I'm still mad! I shouldn't have killed it so quickly. I should've tortured it first," Arthit muttered, grinding his teeth in mock frustration. "Maybe I should eat it."
"No! Don't!" Daotok quickly stopped him as Arthit pretended to put the mosquito in his mouth. He swatted his hand away, then grabbed Arthit's face in both hands, forcing him to look up at him. The height difference between them made Arthit look slightly ridiculous, and Daotok's frown deepened as he stared into Arthit's eyes.
"Don't. Eat. Mosquitoes. Got it?" Daotok said sternly.
Arthit smirked, his lips forming a playful pout as he spoke. "Got it. Why are you so serious about this?"
Daotok sighed. "Crazy people do crazy things."
Arthit raised an eyebrow, teasing. "Are you calling me crazy?"
"Are you not?" Daotok teased back, pressing his palms harder against Arthit's cheeks, forcing his lips to form a pout. Arthit's annoyed expression only made Daotok laugh.
"Okay, okay, let me go," Arthit groaned, but Daotok only chuckled in response.
Arthit pulled Daotok closer by the waist, his arm around him. "You're the only one allowed to do this," he murmured, his face pressed into Daotok's stomach. But Daotok pushed him away, shaking his head.
"What if someone sees us?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"No one will. Everyone's already gone to bed," Arthit said, his voice low and reassuring.
"Still, what if Dad wakes up to use the bathroom?"
"Fine, let's head back to the room," Arthit conceded with a sigh. "The mosquitoes are starting to come out anyway."
They quickly tidied up the table, Daotok making sure Arthit washed his hands before they made their way back to their room. Arthit collapsed onto the bed, a content sigh escaping his lips as he stretched out. "I feel like smoking," he murmured, and Daotok knew exactly what he meant.
Without a word, Daotok moved with a quiet intensity, closing the distance between them in a way that left no room for hesitation. He straddled Arthit, his knees pressing gently against either side of Arthit's body, effectively trapping him in place.
There was an almost magnetic pull between them, an undeniable connection that neither of them could resist. Daotok's gaze softened as he leaned down, his lips brushing against Arthit's in a slow, deliberate motion.
The kiss began tenderly, a quiet exploration, but the moment their lips met, something shifted. Arthit's breath caught, his heart pounding in his chest. His hands instinctively moved up, fingers threading through Daotok's hair, tugging him closer as if to pull him into every inch of the kiss. The warmth of Daotok's lips on his, the feeling of his body so near, sparked something deeper between them.
The kiss deepened as Arthit's tongue brushed against Daotok's, an almost possessive urge taking over him. The world outside faded away, leaving only the sensation of their lips moving together, the quiet intensity of their shared breath.
Arthit's hands slid down Daotok's neck, pulling him even closer, their bodies flush against each other, the heat of the moment overwhelming. Every subtle shift, every touch, felt like a silent promise, a deeper connection that neither could escape from. The kiss grew more urgent, as though neither could quite get enough, until they were both breathless and yearning for more.
"I feel like smoking..." Arthit repeated, his voice muffled against Daotok's lips.
For them, it had become a simple code—whenever Arthit said he wanted to "smoke," it meant he wanted to kiss. Daotok had understood that from the very beginning, and now, it was something they both cherished.
☆☆☆☆☆
The next morning, they left his father's house early, returning to their place in the evening. Daotok had to leave Khun Jeon at the house temporarily, but the promise of going back to San Francisco together at the end of the year kept his heart steady. There were worries to face, but Daotok knew they would face them together.
At first, Daotok had been uncertain about joining Arthit's family for such an important occasion. He was nervous, unsure of how he would fit in with everyone, but Arthit had insisted it was a good idea. With an earnest smile, he emphasized that Daotok was already part of his family in his eyes.
That reassurance calmed Daotok's nerves, even though he couldn't shake off the feeling of apprehension. Before they could even begin to think about the upcoming New Year's break, they had to survive their final exams. Winter had settled in, bringing a chill to the air, yet Daotok felt none of it.
The temperature was a mere nuisance, a reminder of the season's arrival, but it didn't bother him. Arthit, on the other hand, had a deep disdain for the cold, which was one of the reasons he often spoke fondly of Thailand's relatively warm climate.
"I hate the cold," Arthit had once muttered, pulling the blanket over his head. "This is why I love Thailand. Even winter doesn't feel cold here."
The day had been designated as a study day by their faculty, giving them time to prepare for their exams. Daotok had woken up early, just as he always did, to make breakfast and brew a hot cup of coffee. He didn't mind the early mornings; they had become a part of his routine. Once everything was ready, he went to wake up Arthit, who was still buried under the blankets, his body a tangled mess of sheets and pillows.
"No, I'm not getting up. I'm too lazy," came Arthit's muffled voice from beneath the blankets, his eyes barely opening to glare at Daotok.
"Arthit, you have to go to the ward," Daotok reminded him gently.
"Nah, I'm staying right here. I'll just call the professor and resign already,"
Arthit grumbled, pulling the covers over his head even more.
"You're such a complainer," Daotok teased, smiling at his stubborn boyfriend. Arthit had threatened to quit med school countless times before, but somehow, he always ended up sticking it out. His studies drained him—he wasn't passionate about them, but his sense of duty kept him going.
There was also that promise he had made as a child to his mother, a promise that weighed heavily on his shoulders.
Daotok had once spoken to Direk about Arthit's struggles, and they had both agreed that Arthit didn't need to continue down this path if it wasn't what he truly wanted. Even his mother wouldn't have wanted him to suffer like this.
"What is it?" Arthit asked, noticing the shift in Daotok's tone.
"I've talked to your dad," Daotok began, his voice serious. He sat beside Arthit on the bed, his expression firm. "Studying is important, sure, but doing what you love is just as vital."
Arthit blinked at him in surprise. "Why so serious all of a sudden?"
"I'm not trying to interfere with your decisions, but can I share my perspective?" Daotok asked, leaning in a little closer.
Arthit gave a slight nod, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
"Your songs are becoming really popular now, right? Record labels are reaching out to you. But if you keep studying, you might miss these opportunities. If you're truly happy with your studies, I won't say anything, but... I've never seen you happy about school. Not once. Every day you tell me how exhausted you are."
Arthit shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Daotok's gaze. Daotok could feel the tension in the air, the weight of unspoken truths hanging between them.
"I'm worried," Daotok continued softly. "I'm worried it's wearing you down, bit by bit."
Arthit remained silent for a long moment, his eyes distant. Daotok's words seemed to settle heavily in his mind. "You're talented, Arthit. I know that if you put your mind to it, you can succeed in whatever you choose. But forcing yourself to do something you hate—it's just not worth it. It eats away at who you are. It will leave you feeling lost, and before you know it, you won't even recognize yourself."
Daotok paused, letting his words sink in before continuing, "You're lucky, you know? You know what makes you happy. You know where your passion lies. You're capable of pursuing it."
A soft sigh escaped Arthit's lips. He closed his eyes for a moment, his fingers running through his messy hair. "But I've already spent four years here. Four years in med school."
"And if you wait to graduate," Daotok pointed out gently, "that's two more years. Two more years of feeling miserable."
Arthit looked at him, conflicted. He loved his mom, and that promise he had made to her when she was alive still weighed heavily on his heart. "I'm not saying that med school is useless. It's not. You've made friends here, and so have I. We've both met amazing people, incredible professors. University opens doors. But... your dream isn't here, Arthit. This isn't your path."
Arthit rubbed his face, feeling a mix of frustration and helplessness. "Man, you're making me feel all soft and sentimental," he admitted, letting out a resigned sigh.
"I just want you to think about it," Daotok said, his voice gentle but firm. "Even Uncle Direk feels the same way. He's worried about you."
Arthit let out a humorless chuckle. "Direk tried to stop me before I even applied to med school. And look what happened? My stubborn ass pushed through anyway." He shook his head in mock frustration. "Sigh."
"So, how's med school been treating you?" Daotok asked, a playful glint in his eyes.
Arthit grimaced. "Don't even call it med school. It's more like dog school. It's hard, so much work. Forget aiming for an A; if I just scrape past failing, I'll be ready to bow down and kiss my professor's feet."
Daotok chuckled, but there was an underlying seriousness in his voice as he asked, "Do you feel like you belong?"
Arthit's face softened for a moment, and he sighed deeply. "Belong? George, the dog at our faculty, probably fits in better than me."
Daotok leaned forward slightly, his voice low but steady. "You need to find the right place for yourself, Arthit. You need to stand where you truly belong. And in the music world, you already have millions of people watching you, listening to you. There are record labels wanting you. People are ready to support you. Even Uncle Direk and your mom—they would want you to follow your passion. And I want you to, too."
Arthit stared at him, feeling a wave of emotion wash over him. "Wow, you're really hitting me hard with this," he said, his voice quiet. "I've thought about dropping out so many times. I keep asking myself, 'What am I doing here?' Sure, if I put in the effort, I could get good grades. But I don't want to. I'm just so tired."
Daotok nodded, understanding the weight of those words. "It's because you hate it, isn't it? Every small obstacle feels overwhelming, and you have no energy to keep going. But with music, it's completely different. That's where you truly belong."
Arthit was silent for a while, letting Daotok's words settle deep within him.
Finally, he spoke softly. "Thanks. I think... I think I needed to hear that."
Daotok smiled gently. "Just think about it, Arthit. Whatever path you choose, I'll always support you. You don't have to go through this alone. You can vent to me about anything."
Arthit nodded, a faint smile appearing on his face. "Yeah. Thanks."
☆☆☆☆☆
Arthit sat on the balcony after breakfast, his gaze fixed on the clock. It was already 7:30 A.M., far later than the usual time he would be heading to the ward. But today, he felt different. The thought of going to the ward, of continuing his studies, was the last thing he wanted to do. Instead, he found himself lost in thought, contemplating the recent shift in his life.
Ever since he started making music, something inside him clicked. For the first time in years, he felt true joy. He remembered how, back in his younger days, he would tell himself that he could push through medical school—grit his teeth and just get it over with. But deep down, the passion he once had for the idea of becoming a doctor had long since vanished. He wasn't meant for this.
The decision to stay had been easy at first. He'd made a promise to his mother when he was younger, a promise that once seemed like something he could accomplish. But now, in the quiet stillness of his mind, he began to question everything. What was the point of good grades and staying on a path that drained him? What was the point of all the stress, the sleepless nights, if it was all for something he didn't even want?
His heart yearned for something different—music. Making music had never felt like a chore. It was the one thing that made him feel alive. And as Daotok had told him earlier, sometimes you have to stand in the right place to find your true identity. For the first time, Arthit allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he could find happiness in music, not medicine.
As he sat there, reflecting on his thoughts, his phone buzzed incessantly. He sighed and picked it up. Johan. Without giving him a chance to speak, Arthit cut him off.
"I'm not going today," he said, assuming Johan was calling to drag him to the ward.
"Didn't ask," Johan replied, his voice light.
"Then why are you calling?" Arthit asked, furrowing his brows.
"Come meet me."
"Why? Can't it wait until tonight?"
"Lazy to go out. Want to come to my place?"
Arthit scoffed. "Why not a hotel? Isn't it a bit much to humiliate North in his own place? He's still my bro, and I want to show him some respect."
"Respect by sneaking off with his boyfriend to a hotel?" Johan teased.
"Exactly. Stop joking. What's up? I'm not in the mood."
"You're the one joking. So, are you coming or not? Should I come to you instead?"
"Fine, I'll come."
"Alright."
The line went dead, leaving Arthit with a sinking feeling. He glanced at the clock again, still unsure about what was going on. Did this mean Johan wasn't going to the ward today either?
"Dao," he called out, glancing over at his boyfriend, who was sitting across the room.
"What's up?" Daotok replied, looking up from his book.
"Let's go to North's place."
"Why?"
"No idea. But Johan just called."
"Okay," Daotok replied nonchalantly, closing his book and tossing it into his bag. They quickly changed clothes and headed out.
When they arrived at Johan's condo, North opened the door, his usual carefree expression replaced with one of concern. He grabbed Daotok's arm, shaking it with frustration.
"Damn it! I told him, and now P'Joe's all stressed out!" North exclaimed.
"I just told him too," Daotok replied, unfazed.
"Really? What did P'Arthit say?"
"I'm right here," Arthit interrupted, feeling slightly irritated. "What's going on, you two? And where's Joe?"
"In the study," North said, his face scrunched with worry.
"Alright, I'll go talk to him first." Arthit didn't wait for another word before heading towards the study.
Johan was leaning back in his chair, his legs propped up on the desk, looking as if he had been lost in thought for hours. When he heard the door, he lazily glanced over at Arthit.
"What's up?" Arthit asked, plopping down on the nearby sofa, a familiar move.
"North came to talk to me earlier. Said he consulted your boyfriend about it."
"My boyfriend too?" Arthit raised an eyebrow, surprised.
"Yeah, about school."
"Dao just told me the same thing earlier today," Arthit said, his suspicion rising. Clearly, the two of them had been discussing the same thing on the same day, by chance.
"Well, that makes sense," Johan added, his tone dismissive. "Fah called me earlier, saying if you weren't going to the ward, I should try calling Dao.
Fah tried calling you, but you didn't pick up. So I figured this was a critical moment and wanted to talk."
"About dropping out, huh?" Arthit asked, leaning forward slightly, the weight of the decision finally sinking in.
"Yeah. You know I'm working, right? The only reason I went to med school is that China once told me I should. But the last time I asked China if she really wanted me to study medicine, she admitted it wasn't such a big deal. She just thought having a doctor in the family sounded cool. She even said if I can't handle it, I should quit and focus on my work. She's not bothered either way."
"That's a hell of a revelation," Arthit muttered, leaning back again. "So, if your parents are fine with it, why stay in something you don't want to do?"
Johan ruffled his hair in frustration. "It's not that I can't handle it, I can, but it's not okay anymore. Hearing China say that already had me halfway out the door. And then hearing North today... man, I just want out."
"What did North say?"
"Something like, 'Don't force yourself to stick with something you don't love.' And he's right. So many people have dropped out of our program. If it's not for you, just step away."
"Yeah, Dao basically said the same thing to me. Now I'm thinking about it too. It's a big decision, so I've got to think it through. But damn, overthinking doesn't suit me at all," Arthit admitted with a dry laugh.
"Why are you in med school, anyway?"
"I promised my mom when I was a kid. But now that I think about it, she wouldn't want me to force myself. She'd want me to be happy. And look, my music is really taking off. So many labels are reaching out to sign me. I'm telling you, next year the Billboard Music Awards should have Dylan Castillo on the lineup."
"That's awesome! So, why not quit now? If you drop out, you don't even have to take the exams. Damn it, I've had enough of this too. I can't stand it anymore," Johan declared.
"But what about Hill and Fah? They'll be left by themselves."
"They'll probably be better off," Johan shrugged. "They won't have to do our work for us anymore. Let them be free from us already."
"True." Arthit nodded in agreement. "Take Dao, for example. He's working and studying at the same time, and in the end, he just wants to open a gallery, completely unrelated to what he's studying."
"Doesn't your boyfriend actually like what he's studying, though?"
"Wait, how do you know that?" Arthit raised an eyebrow.
"My boyfriend told me, duh."
"Yeah, Dao likes his studies. But we don't," Arthit said with a smirk.
"Then quit," Johan said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Turn on your computer. I'm printing my resignation form right now."
"Screw waiting for graduation, I'm quitting now. I'm done, man."
"Turn it on already. I'm in a hurry!"
"Alright, alright." Johan sighed in mock exasperation.
The two of them printed out their resignation forms, packed up, and drove home to get the necessary signatures. Later that afternoon, they returned to the faculty, where their professors were less than thrilled about the decision but, after some back-and-forth, understood.
As they walked out of the faculty office, a sense of liberation washed over Arthit.
"Man, I never thought I'd see the day we'd resign together," Johan said, his voice light with excitement.
"Yeah, seriously. When it happens, it happens. It was so easy in the end. I can't believe I forced myself for so long. It wasn't me at all," Arthit replied, a wide grin spreading across his face. "Sigh, the professors signed off on it. Dobby is free!"
"What did your dad say?" Johan asked.
"He seemed happy. Direk's been wanting me to do what I love for ages. What about your family?"
"China didn't say anything. They respect my decision," Johan shrugged.
"Well, that's a good thing, right?" Arthit laughed.
Later that evening, they met up with Hill and Tonfah. Tonfah, ever the inquisitive one, was the first to ask, "Are you guys done already?"
"Yeah," Arthit said, flashing a victorious grin. "We quit."
"Really?" Tonfah asked, stunned.
"Yeah, Joe and I just handed in our resignation forms."
"So, you've decided, huh?"
"Yep."
"Well, that's good," Tonfah said, nodding. "I hope the paths you've chosen work out for you."
Arthit sat next to Tonfah, his gaze meeting his friend's. "Hey, why do you look so down? Are you sad you won't have me around?"
"No, Hill and I are finally free, right, Hill?"
"Yeah. Free from freeloaders at last. We had to tutor you, take notes for you, teach you everything, and even do your work sometimes. Not to mention, we had to call you to remind you about stuff. I've been wondering what the hell you two have been doing all this time," Hill said with a playful smirk, throwing his arms over his chest.
Johan couldn't help but laugh at Hill's words, even as Arthit huffed in irritation. "Can you at least pretend to look sad for a bit? Don't make that face like you've been liberated, you jerks."
Hill's grin only widened, not an ounce of regret or sadness in sight. He gave Arthit a nonchalant shrug. Arthit glanced around at his friends, all of them teasing each other with their usual banter. This was the life he was leaving behind, but it didn't feel like a loss.
"Are you studying tonight?" Hill asked, turning his attention to North, who was the only one still buried in his textbooks.
"Yeah, same coffee shop as usual," North replied, his eyes never leaving the pages in front of him.
"Why don't you talk to me like that?" Arthit teased, throwing his arm around Hill's shoulder.
Hill shot him a glare, but it was half-hearted. "Shut up."
"Okay," Arthit replied with a playful wink, knowing the exact dynamic between them. They'd always get on each other's nerves, but that was part of the fun.
Later that evening, the group congregated at their regular coffee shop, the dimly lit room filled with the smell of roasted coffee beans and the murmur of other students around them. As the others began their typical study routine, Arthit leaned back in his chair, feeling an overwhelming sense of peace wash over him.
For the first time in almost five years, he didn't have to crack open a single book or even glance at his notes. No lectures, no assignments, no looming deadlines. He was free. I'm free!
The realization settled in like a weight lifted from his shoulders, and a chuckle escaped his lips.
"No more studying! No more ward rounds! No more getting yelled at by professors! That med school Arthit is dead. Now, there's only Dylan, the musician." He grinned, throwing his arms up dramatically as if to highlight the grandness of the moment. "What do you think about that?"
Daotok, who had been quietly observing from across the table, raised an eyebrow. "You look awfully cheerful."
"Of course!" Arthit declared. "Who in this world could be as happy as me right now?" He ruffled his hair, soaking in the warmth of freedom. "No more waking up early, no more late-night studying. I'm done with all of that."
Daotok gave him a wry smile. "As I've said, I'll always support your decisions. Seeing you this happy makes me happy too."
Arthit nodded, his expression softening for a moment. "If you hadn't said anything, I don't think I would've made up my mind," he admitted, the weight of the decision he had made settling in his chest.
Daotok chuckled. "Yeah, you've suffered long enough."
Arthit couldn't help but laugh again, the joy radiating through him. "I definitely made the right choice, worshipping the religion of Daotok. This faith has enlightened me, truly. It has saved a sinner like me and shown me the path to heaven. Wait, is my head glowing with divine light right now? I feel so radiant, it's blinding me!" he joked, spinning around with exaggerated flair.
Daotok shook his head, but there was a fond smile on his face. "Crazy."
"Yeah, yeah. What? Are you walking away? Hey, I'm just kidding! My head isn't glowing, it's just reflecting light off my receding hairline!" Arthit called out after him, mischief dancing in his eyes.
Daotok stopped and shot him a mock glare. "Only you could make an excuse that makes things worse."
Arthit threw his head back in laughter, unfazed.
"Arthit, go away."
"Why are you chasing me off?"
"Because you're annoying."
Arthit grinned wide, unbothered by the comment. "Did I do something to you? I don't think so. I'm just minding my own space," he said, cheekily doing push-ups in the corner of the coffee shop's upstairs private section.
Usually, this area was reserved for studying, but today was different. Today, there was no study, no deadlines. Just him, and his endless, liberated energy.
"Why don't you go back to your room or to the gym? Seeing you moving up and down is irritating," Hill grumbled, clearly trying to focus on his work.
"Why?" Arthit teased, speeding up his push-ups for added effect. "Is it that annoying? I think it's fun. Look how fast I can go!"
Hill let out a dramatic sigh. "Do whatever you want."
"I can do one-handed push-ups too, Hill. Look!" Arthit boasted, his grin widening as he showed off.
"No," Hill muttered, unwilling to give Arthit the satisfaction of reacting.
Arthit laughed, a deep, carefree sound. "What's wrong with you? I can even do handstands, you know!"
"I'm trying to study. Fah, help me out here," Hill pleaded, clearly done with the antics.
Tonfah sighed and gave him an apologetic look. "I can't stop him," he said, his voice resigned. "I suggest you turn your chair like I did."
Hill sighed and turned his chair, but Arthit was quick to move in front of him. "Why are you so focused on me, Arthit?"
"I don't know. I just feel like annoying you today," Arthit replied with a wide grin, thoroughly enjoying the chaos he was causing.
Hill's sigh was audible as he endured Arthit's relentless antics. "Honestly, you should never leave two crazy people together," he muttered, shaking his head.
Arthit couldn't help but look at their partners, quietly studying and completely ignoring the circus unfolding around them. It was a chaotic, familiar scene—one that would be missed in its own way—but it was hard not to laugh.
"Joe," he called out, and Johan, who was sitting with North, turned to him.
"Want to have a push-up contest?" Arthit challenged, his grin wide.
Johan's expression remained blank for a moment, but then he raised an eyebrow.
Hill groaned. "Joe, don't humor him. I already have a headache."
Johan, however, seemed to thrive on Hill's exasperation. "Hill, you have a headache? Let me help you out!" He stood up, clearly planning to make things even worse.
Arthit grinned, his energy undeterred. "Look, I even have time to do push ups now! No more studying to worry about!"
Hill groaned, defeated. "If I were you, I'd make it more challenging by putting something heavy on my back."
"Yeah, you're right," he muttered, before calling over to Daotok. "Hey, Dao! North, you too, come over here!"
Daotok looked up from his book, his eyes narrowing slightly at the interruption. North, who had been quietly studying beside him, lifted his gaze as well, his brow furrowing in mild annoyance. As the two of them made their way toward Arthit and Johan, Daotok's voice carried the weight of mock irritation.
"What is it now?" he asked.
"We're going to do a push-up contest. Sit on our backs to make it fair," Arthit explained casually, his grin widening.
Daotok's eyes shifted to North. "We're supposed to be studying," he pointed out.
Arthit only shrugged, unfazed by Daotok's disapproval. "Come on, think of it as a break. Oh, and help us count too," he added nonchalantly.
North, looking between the two of them, sighed heavily, clearly less than thrilled. "P'Joe, are you seriously doing this?" he asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and exasperation. Johan just let out a small, amused laugh before giving a simple nod, a devil-may-care grin spreading across his face.
"Fine, but just one round, okay?" North relented, though his reluctance was evident. "Although it's kind of unfair, isn't it? Dao weighs less than me."
Daotok, who had been listening to the exchange, huffed. "Not really. I've gained some weight," he remarked, looking a little defensive.
"How much do you weigh?" North asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Sixty kilograms," Daotok replied nonchalantly.
"I'm sixty-three," North said, glancing around for something to help even things out. "Go grab something to hold to even it out."
Arthit shot North an incredulous look. "Letting my boyfriend carry something? Even if it's just three kilograms? Over my dead body. I'd rather chop off my own arm than let that happen."
North let out a sarcastic laugh. "Wow, thanks for not letting me carry stuff. The arm-chopping sentiment is truly touching."
Johan, always the peacemaker when it came to ridiculous contests, raised an eyebrow. "It's fine. I'll give you the three-kilogram lead," he said with a playful shrug.
"Ugh, who'd agree to that?" Arthit muttered. "Bring some thick books or something. Fah, got any?"
Tonfah, who had been watching the banter with mild amusement, stood up and went to rummage through the shelves. After a moment, he returned with a heavy stack of textbooks. "Here, these should work," he said, handing them to Daotok.
"Okay, you don't have to hold them. Just balance them on my back without letting them fall," Johan instructed, his tone casual.
"Got it," Daotok replied, accepting the challenge.
The group got into position—Johan and Arthit on the ground, their hands steady as they prepared to start the push-ups, while Daotok and North climbed onto their backs. The books were placed carefully, resting on Arthit's back, providing the added weight needed to make the challenge fair.
The push-up contest began in earnest, with Daotok and North counting each rep. "Forty-five... forty-six... forty-seven," they counted steadily, their voices a soft rhythm amidst the ambient chatter of the coffee shop.
Hill and Tonfah, sitting nearby, had long since abandoned any pretense of studying. Their arms were propped up on the table, their eyes fixed on the chaotic scene unfolding before them. The exasperation was palpable, and Hill finally broke the silence with a muttered complaint.
"Honestly, you should never leave two crazy people together," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. Arthit, mid-push-up, couldn't help but laugh. His body was straining, but the sheer ridiculousness of the moment made everything feel lighter. It wasn't often that he felt this free—this unburdened by the weight of expectations.
"Yeah," he said, glancing up with a grin. "You tell them, Hill."
But neither Hill nor Tonfah were inclined to respond. Instead, they simply returned to their books, the occasional sigh or roll of the eyes the only sign that they were still aware of the absurdity happening around them.
Despite the frustration written on their faces, the camaraderie that filled the air was undeniable. It was just another one of those moments with his friends—a fleeting, ridiculous moment that made Arthit appreciate the chaos, knowing it would be these kinds of memories that would stick with him long after the pressure of med school was a distant memory.