The humid air of the hometown of Baan Rim Nam (village by water )was thick with the scent of grilled street food and incense. It was the night of the local festival, the same one Sky and Phuvit had attended every year since they were toddlers.
Lanterns hung from the trees like low-hanging fruit, casting a golden glow over the two boys sitting on the edge of the old wooden pier.
"Remember when we were ten?" Sky asked, swinging his legs. He was wearing a pair of light denim shorts and an oversized linen shirt that kept sliding off one shoulder. He was currently struggling with a sticky tamarind candy.
Phuvit, dressed in a perfectly ironed polo shirt and slacks—looking every bit the "classy landlord's grandson"—smiled faintly. "Which time? The time you tried to ride a water buffalo or the time you almost burned down the kitchen?"
"No, the fight!" Sky laughed, his eyes crinkling. "With those three bullies from the next village who called your father a 'debt-ridden officer.' You were so angry you walked up to them, but you didn't even know how to punch! You just stood there shaking."
Phuvit sighed, looking at the water. "And then you jumped in. You were half their size, Sky."
"I bit that guy's arm so hard he still probably has the scar," Sky boasted. "We both got beaten up, though. I remember the dirt tasting like iron. When it was over, you were sitting in the mud crying like a waterfall because my nose was bleeding. I was just sitting there thinking, 'Man, I really want a lollipop right now."
"You actually offered me one," Phuvit recalled, shaking his head. "You had blood on your chin and a bruise forming on your eye, and you just held out a grape lollipop and asked, 'Do you want it? Why are you crying? It doesn't even hurt that much.'"
The laughter died down into a comfortable silence. The realization hit them both: in a week, they wouldn't be on this pier. They wouldn't be hearing the familiar scolding of their neighbors or the sound of the restaurants wok clanging in the distance.
"We'll pay it off, Phuvit," Sky said suddenly, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "Your dad's loans. The university degree, the jobs in the city... we'll make it so they never have to worry again."
Phuvit looked at his best friend—the boy who had been three days late to the world compared to him, but had been by his side every second since. "We will. Together."
~The chaos of departure ~
Seven days later, the "Peaceful Neighborhood" was anything but peaceful.
At Phuvit's house, the atmosphere was dignified but heavy. His father, Kittipat, stood by the door, his government uniform crisp. He held a small, weathered leather pouch.
"Phuvit," he said, his voice deep and steady. "Bangkok is a sea of sharks. Do not let them see you bleed. Study hard, but eat better. Your grandfather's blood runs in you—you are a leader, not a follower."
He pressed the pouch into Phuvit's hand. Phuvit knew it was a significant portion of his father's monthly salary. "Dad, I have the scholarship money, you don't need to—"
"Take it," Kittipat commanded, though his eyes softened. "A man of your standing should always have enough to buy a clean shirt and a hot meal. Go. Make us proud."
Meanwhile, at Sky's house, it was a comedy sketch.
"SKY! NATCHA! IF YOU PUT ONE MORE CROP TOP IN THIS SUITCASE, I WILL DONATE IT TO THE TEMPLE!" Mae Nim's voice echoed through the street.
"Mom! It's Bangkok! It's 40 degrees! I'll melt in those sweaters you're packing!" Sky yelled back, trying to sit on a suitcase that was overflowing with colorful fabrics.
"You are a student, not a backup dancer!" Mae Nim hissed, grabbing a tiny white shirt. "What will the neighbors say? What will your professors think? They'll think I didn't raise you with clothes!"
Somchai, Sky's father, walked in with a tray of steamed buns for the road. Seeing his wife's back turned, he quickly winked at Sky and stuffed a floral-print short-sleeve shirt into the side pocket of the bag.
"Let him live, Nim," Somchai chuckled. "Our son has the best legs in the province. Let the city see them."
Mae Nim turned around with a glare so sharp it could have sliced a pineapple. Somchai immediately looked at the floor. "I mean... yes, Sky, cover up. The wind... it's very chilly in the city. Brrr."
Sky rolled his eyes, hugged his parents tightly—ignoring his mother's frantic last-minute attempt to tuck his shirt in—and dragged his bags to the bus stop where Phuvit was already waiting, looking like a model for a high-end travel magazine.
~The city of opportunities and dream~
The 4K apartment in Bangkok was a dream. Located in a high-security society, it featured floor-to-ceiling windows, a sleek modular kitchen, and a balcony that overlooked the shimmering skyline. It was modern, cozy, and smelled like expensive air freshener.
"We really made it," Sky whispered, throwing himself onto the plush grey sofa. "No Mae Nim yelling about my clothes. No aunties asking when I'm getting married."
"Don't get too comfortable," Phuvit said, already unpacking his books in alphabetical order. "The vacation ends in a month, and the university workload is no joke."
"You're such a buzzkill, Phi Phuvit," Sky teased, using the 'older brother' title just to annoy him. "We have a month! Let's live a little!"
But Phuvit was already looking at his laptop. "I found a job. A luxury convenience store in the Em-District. It's open 24 hours, the pay is double the standard rate, and they need staff for the summer shift."
Sky sat up. "You're already working? Your dad gave you a whole pouch of cash!"
"That money is for emergencies," Phuvit said firmly. "I want to start saving now. If I can pay for my own groceries and rent, my dad can pay off the bank faster."
Sky looked at his friend and sighed. He knew that look. Phuvit was the "Good Son," the one who carried the world on his shoulders. "Fine. I'm coming too. I don't want to sit in this fancy apartment alone while you're out there selling organic milk to rich people."
The Convenience Store Shift
The store was unlike anything they had seen in the hometown. It featured marble floors, gold-trimmed shelves, and imported chocolates that cost more than their bus tickets to Bangkok.
Phuvit looked natural behind the counter. His "classy" aura made him look like he owned the place rather than worked there. He wore the store's navy blue apron over a crisp white tee, his hair styled neatly.
Sky, however, was struggling. "Why is this water 200 baht? Is it blessed by a monk? Does it make you immortal? If my mom saw these prices, she'd have a heart attack right here on the marble floor," Sky whispered, leaning over the counter "
"Sky, stop complaining and restock the imported coffee aisle," Phuvit whispered, checking the inventory on a tablet.
"I'm just saying!" Sky grumbled, adjusting his apron, which he had tied in a way that made it look more like a fashion statement. "People in this city have too much money. They need to be humbled."
Phuvit paused, looking out the glass windows at the line of supercars idling at the red light outside. "Maybe. But for now, we just need to be invisible and do our jobs."
He didn't know it yet, but "invisible" was the last thing they were going to be. Across the city, in a penthouse suite overlooking the same street, a certain an mafia hier and an upcoming Billionaire were currently bored, looking for something—or someone—to catch their interest.
The collision was coming. And Bangkok was about to find out that the two "good boys" from the province didn't come to the city to bow down. They came to win.