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“Duuuude, are you even listening?! Phii Khao is cool as a bloody fucking cur, I swear! At first, I was scared shitless—heard the tire blow out like a BANG!—then some rando knocks on my window and I’m like, holy fuck, this is it! Stabbed and robbed, right?! But not only is he a god-tier legend, he fixed my tire in two moves! And his face—”
“Like… kill-all-the-cows-and-buffaloes handsome. Korean drama lead? Move. Aside. Looks like a god got kicked out of heaven for being too hot.”
“Wait! How the fucking shit-lizard did you know?!”
“Duh. I’ve heard this three times. And each time you ‘upgrade’ it—thought this version’s Big-Bike Hia was gonna be a cyborg or some shit, Nai Wa-ren.”
Rain—or Nai Wa-ren, if you’re into formalities—pouted, cut off mid-glory. But his stone-faced bestie, Sky, was already back to scrolling manga on his phone. Desperate to relive his hero worship for the twenty-fourth time, Rain squatted in front of Sky’s lecture notes, death-gripped the desk, and shook it like a rabid chihuahua.
“Âi’Buddy! Listen to me! I need to talk. I NEED TO TALK!”
“Know what’s annoying? You.”
“Know what’s heartless? You.”
“Yeah, I’m heartless. Go traumatize someone else, then!”
Being brushed off only made Rain shake the desk harder, vibrating with the urge to preach the gospel of Big-Bike Hia. But Sky just tilted his phone away, eyes glued to the screen. When Rain lunged to snatch it, Sky slapped a palm to his forehead, holding him at arm’s length like a feral cat.
“Âi’Sky!”
“What?”
“You’re a bloody fucking cur of a friend!”
The cur in question turned to meet his glare and lobbed back a line even crueler:
“I finally get why you’re decent-looking but still can’t land a girl.”
“Fucking shit-lizard! Don’t twist the knife!” Wa-ren groaned, half-tempted to flop onto the floor and tantrum. Sky—nicknamed The Hammer for his deadpan brutality—just glared, refusing to play translator for Wa-ren’s Thai-to-Thai rants. This exact stubbornness was why girls called him… “Annoying.”
But don’t girls like attentive guys?! Wa-ren fumed. I’m attentive! I ask about their day, LINE them every minute, share every thought—how’s that annoying?! This is called care, damn it! No one’s better at Thai than me!
When Wa-ren’s sulking hit DEFCON 1, Sky sighed and pocketed his phone. He stared at the guy puffing his cheeks like a blowfish, his gaze sweeping from furrowed brows to flared nostrils. Sky had to admit—Wa-ren was objectively good-looking. Bigger eyes than those “big-eye” contact lens addicts, a button nose, cherry-red lips, and ghost-pale Sino-Thai skin. Paired with his lanky, near-180cm frame, girls did glance back. But…
“Fine. Spill.”
“Finally, you bloody cur! Listen—my tire blew. BANG! Car fishtailed like it wanted to meet Yama[1]. But I survived ’cause fate sent me a knight on a Ducati! At first, I thought he was a bank robber—full-face helmet, sketchy vibe. But then I’m like, what robber rides a million-baht bike?! And when he took off the helmet—holy shit-lizard tits! Handsome as hell! Cooler than a god! Just… lifted the spare tire like it was a feather, and his arms—”
He’d probably land a girlfriend… if he weren’t so relentlessly chatty. At this rate, he’d sooner find a phua willing to endure his rants than a mia. Sky thought to himself.
Sky propped his chin on his hand, nodding absently as Wa-ren’s words flowed in one ear and out the other. Today was the fifth retelling. The original saga had started with a midnight call, Wa-ren narrating every detail until 2 AM—down to specs that made Sky want to scream, “If you’re this obsessed, why didn’t you ask for his number?!”
But he already knew Wa-ren’s answer: “Ugh, why didn’t you remind me?! I should’ve asked Phii Khao for his number!” Classic.
“What’re you guys talking about?”
Snap!
“Pear!”
Wa-ren’s babbling-brook-rant about tire-changing techniques died mid-sentence. He spun around, posture snapping straight as he greeted the architecture department’s unofficial “campus goddess”—the girl he’d been chasing for two months.
Sky swore he saw Wa-ren’s invisible tail wag.
Pear smiled, her gaze dripping with pity.
Sky mentally facepalmed. Dead end. She sees him as a puppy, not a romantic partner.
“Pear! Need something?” Sky asked.
“Not from you.”
“Oi! You think you’re tampering with your friend’s love life or something?!”
Sky shot him a look that said, “That phrase is for people who’ve crossed the friend zone. You’re just a dog barking at airplanes.”
He turned back to Pear. “Need something, Pear?”
“About next month’s class event… Do you have old paperwork templates from seniors? I don’t wanna ask Phii Som myself. She’ll yell at me for being lazy. Plus, she’s been moody lately—work stress.”
“Might have some. Last month I ran into Phii Phayu—got all the key forms from him.”
Pear lunged forward, gripping the desk. “You met Phii Phayu?! The Phii Phayu?!”
“If you mean the one and only Storm, then yeah.”
“No way! He graduated ages ago! How’d you even—ugh, jealous!” Pear’s face lit up, leaning so close that Rain’s eye twitched. He itched to wedge himself between them but feared her wrath. Since when does Phii Phayu make her this excited?!
“Pear. Personal space.”
“Oops! Sorry, got carried away.”
“It’s fine. We get it.”
“But I don’t get it—who is this bloody fucking cur Phayu?!”
Snap!
The moment Rain asked, both pairs of eyes swiveled to him in scornful disbelief, as if he’d been hibernating in a broom closet. Pear’s lips parted, ready to unleash a lecture, but—
“Phii Phayu—the guy the professors never shut up about in class? The one who won the AsiaStar Award, then repped Thailand at World Star and placed second? Second, even though he was juggling family stuff and barely had time to prep!”
“Three-term student council prez. Everyone in the club knows him. Anything he touches turns to gold. Oh, and he was freshman of the year!”
“And most importantly—” Pear clasped her cheeks, squealing. “HE’S SOOOOOOOOO HOT!!!”
Rain’s eye twitched. “Your brother’s been gushing about him for three years?!”
“Yup! My brother—who never praises anyone—still worships Phii Phayu like he’s a god! He’s the reason I applied here! But by the time I enrolled, Phii Phayu had graduated. Tragic!”
Rain blurted: “Is your brother gay, Pear? Why’s he fangirling over another dude so hard?!”
Oh, shit.
The words hung in the air like a grenade pin. Pear’s glare could’ve frozen lava. The once-chill vibe turned frostbitten, leaving even the chatty Rain speechless.
“It’s just—ugh! Why’s everyone obsessed with him?! Even Sky—who barely talks—won’t shut up about Phayu! When’s the last time he praised me?!”
Rain shot a glare at Sky, now a certified traitor, prompting the vice prez to sigh like a deflating balloon.
“If Phii Som’s gay, you’d be first in line, Rain. You were just waxing poetic about Big-Bike Hia like you wanted him as your phua.”
“Oi! I was just admiring him!”
“Sure. Same way we ‘admire’ Phii Phayu… Don’t take it personally, Pear. He’s got foot-in-mouth disease.” Sky’s deadpan save only made Rain’s jaw itch to retort, but under Pear’s glare, he shriveled into a puppy-eyed puddle. Forgive me, please?
“Whatever. I’m not mad Rain called Phii Som gay. The opposite, actually.”
“Huh?”
“If Phii Phayu wanted Phii Som, I’d hand my brother over in a heartbeat! What pissed me off was Rain acting like Phii Phayu isn’t worth the hype… Anyway, Sky, just LINE me those forms later.” Pear spun on her heel, marching off to her squad, leaving Rain mid-grovel.
No chance to apologize? Seriously?!
“Two words for you, Rain.” Sky leaned in, voice dripping with schadenfreude.
“Bird! Brain!”
“Âi’Sky, you fucking shit-lizard!!!” Rain lunged, ready to throttle him, but what burned hotter was his rage toward… Phii Phayu.
Who even are you?! Show your face, and I’ll curse you to hell! No matter how hot you are, you’ll never beat my Big-Bike Hia!
A mass of ink-black clouds swallowed Bangkok, unleashing icy rain that needled the skin and soaked the earth below. Forked lightning split the sky, thunder roaring in its wake as wind slammed against the restaurant windows like fists.
This wasn’t just rain.
This was a storm.
And of course, it had to hit today.
/~/~/~
“C’mon, rookies! Not gonna drink?”
“I don’t drink, Phîi.”
“I drove here.”
“Just a sip!”
The senior-junior mixer wasn’t just packed with students from Year 5 down—there were alumni from twenty years ago. No wonder Rain was sweating bullets. Thankfully, his Kho Group batchmates were there, though if asked to rate their closeness on a scale of 0 to 10, he’d give it a hard -5.
He and his sole Kho Group “friend” might as well be strangers. Two semesters in, they’d barely exchanged words—she was too busy glaring at her phone. The seniors, though, kept shoving drinks at him. If he hadn’t driven, he’d have caved just to escape the pressure.
“Stop bullying the kid. He’ll report you.”
“Phii, I’d never dare!” Rain blurted, shaking his head like a bobblehead. The seniors burst into hyena cackles.
“Relax—we meant that cocky brat.” One jerked a thumb at a guy across the room. “Heard companies fought over him at graduation like piranhas. Holy shit.”
“Well! Everyone knows he’s a god-tier gem. Pisses me off—he rejected all the offers!”
“Seriously, why?! I heard you offered him double the starting salary for grads!”
Rain glanced around, intrigued. The whole table had locked onto the conversation, including a senior architect who’d earlier casually dropped his own eye-watering salary. Who the hell are they talking about?
The architect barked a laugh, eyes glinting.
“Kid said he ‘doesn’t wanna be a nepo baby (dek sen).’”
The table erupted in howls.
“Damn! If he’s a nepo baby, he’s the Rolls-Royce of nepo babies!”
“Fits him, though.”
“Truer words! When’s he ever sucked up to anyone?”
“Insufferably cocky… but you all still love him.”
“He’s a prince. Who could hate him?”
Amid the roaring banter, Rain sat baffled. Even his phone-glued cohort-mate had pocketed her device to listen. Never one to stew in confusion, he nudged the closest senior:
“Phii… who is this guy?”
“Oh! Rain, you don’t know the legend?!”
“By the time I started Year 1, he’d already graduated,” the fifth-year senior explained.
“But he still hangs around the faculty! The professors begged him to take a master’s scholarship, but he refused.”
“He drops by sometimes. Always perfectly on time. Last month, the student council was stuck in a budget war. He showed up, fixed it in 30 minutes. Outsiders call him the Prince of Architecture, but the council secretly calls him the Animal-Loving God—worshipped like a deity.”
“That much?”
“That much.”
“Then we’ll roast him when he arrives.”
Rain glanced outside at the storm-lashed streets and smirked bitterly. If he hadn’t ducked into the restaurant before the downpour, he’d have bailed to nap at home. But no—Year 1 juniors don’t cross any seniors. Displeasing them meant career suicide. Not like this “Prince” cares anyway.
Why can’t I stop thinking about that jerk Phii Phayu?!
Suddenly, last week’s conversation with Sky flashed in his mind. Rain shook his head, banishing it. With so many alumni, the odds of bumping into someone he’d hated on sight were—
CRASH!
“WATCH OUT!”
“This storm’s brutal.”
Thunder roared, rain lashing sideways with no sign of relenting. Rain wondered if he’d ever make it home.
“Guess the heavens are rolling out the red carpet for the latecomer,” a senior joked.
BANG!
Rain flinched at the senior’s words—then froze as the restaurant door slammed open. Lightning flashed behind the figure silhouetted in the doorway, so terrifyingly cinematic that Rain’s breath hitched. But fear morphed into shock, then into slack-jawed awe.
The light fell on the newcomer’s face, and Rain nearly leapt up to point and scream.
The man raked a hand through his shoulder-length hair, flicking water off a face so sharp it could cut glass. His soaked light-colored shirt clung to a physique Rain recognized instantly—no helmet, no leather jacket, just raw, rain-soaked charisma.
Big-Bike Hia.
“Everyone! Applause for Phii Phayu—literally bringing the storm!”
Huh?! Phayu is the storm?!
Rain almost bolted over to thank his savior, but a senior’s booming laugh cut through: “Âi’Jerk Phayu! You’re late! We were about to ditch!”
“You’re lucky we didn’t start without you,” another teased.
“Hi, Phii Phayu! Damn—even drenched, you’re still stupid hot.”
“You didn’t have to live up to your name this hard, Phii. How are we supposed to get home?!”
Now the word storm—Phayu, Phayu, Phayu—whirled around Rain’s skull. His cohort-mate, who’d been glued to her phone earlier, sprang up and scurried to greet the newcomer, bowing deeply. Since when did Miss Boredom turn into Miss Fanclub President?!
SLAM!
“You’re the Storm?!!”
Rain’s palms hit the table as he shot up, shouting loud enough to freeze the room. All eyes snapped to him—including Phii Phayu’s.
Their gazes locked. Rain swore recognition flickered in those hawk-sharp eyes. The man’s lips even twitched into a smile, but—
“Yes. My name’s Phayu. And you are…?”
CRACK.
That was the sound of Rain’s ego shattering.
This is Phii Phayu? This is the guy?!
Rain nearly gnawed his fingernails off, face buried in his hands for three solid minutes. He’d acted like they were old buddies, only to be met with polite oblivion. Mortified enough to dive under the table, he was saved only because the room had already refocused on the actual star.
Hmph! Guess he’s too famous to remember peasants like me.
Rain seethed, side-eyeing the man across the table. But he knew—those piercing eyes, that sculpted nose, those thin lips framing a razor-sharp jawline—this was the same guy who’d saved him last week. No way he’s playing stupid.
Handsome enough to kill cows and buffalo—no way this face is a coincidence!
Gasp!
Rain froze mid-thought as Big-Bike Hia’s gaze locked onto his. Damn it! He should’ve been pissed, seething at this Âi’Jerk Phayu who’d turned him into a social pariah. Instead, he looked away, heart racing. Pathetic!
Stop acting like you’ve got a crush! You just owe him a thank you!
Rain rationalized, torn. Earlier, he’d idolized Big-Bike Hia—now that same man was the reason girls ignored him and friends mocked him. Should he hate him or stay awestruck? But Pa raised him right: debts of gratitude must be repaid…
Fine. I’ll thank him. Just… get it over with.
He glanced sideways.
Snap!
Why’s he staring now?!
Rain ducked his head, cheeks burning. When he dared peek again, Big-Bike Hia’s piercing eyes trapped him. By the third eye-contact ambush, Rain—the self-proclaimed “social butterfly”—morphed into a mute turtle, glued to his seat.
Admit it… you’re flustered.
In the end, Nai Wa-ren never got to thank Big-Bike Hia. By the time he mustered courage, a senior cut him off to chat with Phayu. Worse, his cohort-mate—now a gecko glued to Big-Bike Hia’s side—had her chest pressed so close, Rain nearly gagged.
“Sorry, but… fucking rhino shit-lizard.”
“Whatever. Fuck it. Big-Bike Hia doesn’t remember me. Why the hell should I thank him? Done. Let’s go home.” Rain muttered, slamming his car door shut—but not without one last glance at the restaurant.
He’d dragged his feet like a snail, lingering until the restaurant nearly flipped the lights off. The seniors had scattered, but there’d been no trace of Big-Bike Hia.
Did he leave earlier? Or is he still partying?
“Not my problem.” Rain shook his head, scrubbing a hand through his hair. He couldn’t care less whether the legendary Big-Bike Hia was off clubbing with friends. Time to bail. He jabbed the ignition button—
Grind… CLUNK!
“Huh?!” Rain’s heart dropped to his ankles.
“No big deal. Just… a hiccup.” He restarted the engine.
Grind… CLUNK!
The same ominous noise. The dashboard lit up like a Christmas tree—red warnings screaming. Now his heart plummeted to his toenails.
I changed the tires! (Thanks, Pa.) But if it’s something else… I’m dead either way!
Patter-patter…
The storm, which had briefly relented, roared back to life. Rain thunked his forehead against the steering wheel, rain drumming the windshield like a taunt.
“Fucking cursed. Fucking cursed to the max! Do I have a car hex or something?!” Rain cursed, banging his head against the steering wheel. Then—
HOOOOOOOOONK!
“OW! Stupid fucking horn!” He’d slammed his fist into it, the blare echoing across the near-empty parking lot. Everyone else had left—even his beloved Pa and Ma were halfway to Europe by now.
Totally screwed. Solo mission.
Rain scrolled through his contacts for someone—anyone—who could help. No point popping the hood; he’d just stare cluelessly at the engine. Towing was his only hope.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Rain spun around, heart leaping. Last time this happened… And there, piercing eyes locked onto his through the rain-streaked window.
“Big-Bike Hia!” Rain flung the door open, grinning like an idiot at the man holding an umbrella.
See?! Holy shit, he’s cool!!! I was right to idolize him!
“Need help? Heard the horn.”
“My car’s dead! Worked fine earlier, then—poof! Won’t start! Help me, Phii… please?” Rain batted his lashes, voice dripping with sugar. He helped last time. He’ll help again.
But the face that had once smiled at him now froze cold.
Why’s he glaring?! Oh, do I need to beg harder?
“Please, Big-Bike Hia! I know you’re a car genius!”
Last time, you changed my tire in two moves!
But...
“I get it now.”
“Huh?” Rain blinked, baffled—then even more confused as the man’s lips twitched into a smirk.
“You’re Rain, right?”
“Yeah! I’m Rain!”
Rain nodded eagerly, hope blazing in his eyes, zero suspicion. Too busy registering that this legend was his senior at the same university, he didn’t notice Big-Bike Hia leaning in until their noses nearly brushed. Warm breath fogged the air between them. Rain pretended to glance at the dashboard, hiding his pounding heart.
Too hot. Too close.
But his shyness evaporated when—
Smack!
“If you’re gonna flirt, at least make it subtle next time.”
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