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"Haven't you all eaten rice or not? Your voices are this weak!" Phîi Oat, the Head wák, stood on stage, his shout echoing, pressuring every Nong sitting in neat rows. The singing went dead silent, so quiet that if anyone moved, the whole room would hear the rustle of clothes. They'd been belting out cheer songs since morning, and now, well into the afternoon, they'd only had a short lunch break to catch their breath. Then it was back to the intense pressure the Phîis created in unison.
The past week, they'd done so well they got praise, but today, nothing went right. Songs they'd nailed before were called garbage by the Phîis. A sigh or even a fly buzzing by was wrong. Now, nobody dared twitch.
"If you fail the cheer song test today, I won't give you your class identity!" Phîi Oat bellowed.
"I really hate you," Dear muttered, wanting to hush Âi Sun, who was grumbling under his breath. Good thing his voice didn't carry to the stage. Dear's eyes fixed on Phîi Oat, wondering where he got this extra ferocity today.
His thick beard was scary enough, but now Phîi Oat looked like his Mia had dumped him right at the door.
"Do it again!! I hope this time's better!" It wasn't just Phîi Oat being fierce. All the wákers, guys and young women, played the tough role in sync. If Phîi Oat called out a flaw, another Phîi chimed in. Getting one song approved for the whole class had the Nongs wiping sweat.
"I'm starving for rice."
"But I want snacks." Âi Sun and Âi Shin's voices whined in unison as they stepped out of the cheer room for the evening break. It wasn't over yet—almost seven PM. For the engineering faculty, the night was still young.
"You wouldn't die skipping snacks for a day, you damned shit-lizard, Shin."
"Âi Dear, don't you know? When my blood sugar's low, I get pissed easy. And guess what happens when I'm pissed?" Âi Shin turned, smirking, making Dear, who knew his quirks, flinch, guessing softly.
"You wouldn't... walk out on the last day of cheer, right?"
"I'd curse the Phîis for being jerks before I left." When Dear asked nervously, Âi Shin shot back quick, grinning wide. Knowing him, Dear was sure the Âi-drama-queen could do it.
"Any snack's fine, right? I'll grab some. Stay here, hey. Bloody fucking hell, my friends are such a pain. One's a nuisance, the other's picky. Maybe I'll just bring you a sugar jar to chug."
"Âi Dear!! Get me a Pepsi too, one glass!" Âi Sun shouted.
Before Dear could even step away, Âi Sun hollered after him, loud enough to make Dear freeze, turn, and flash a creepy grin. Then he raised his hand, folded his thumb, index, ring, and pinky down, and punched the air, signaling I'm giving you double.
The gesture made his two friends bust out laughing, watching the little one who griped but always gave in to them, impossible not to tease. Then Âi Sun threw his arm around the half-blood's neck, pulling him close to whisper.
"Hey, guess what? Even if we finish cheer, we shouldn't rush back. Tomorrow, the whole faculty's skipping class anyway. So, I say we celebrate." That was code for who was itching to get home, checking his phone every break... Âi Dear.
It was like saying, Come mess with Âi'Shorty with me.
"Heh, won't Âi Dear lose it? Cheer ends at one or two AM," Âi Shin said, sounding concerned, but his twinkling eyes screamed he was all in, raising his brows.
"Don't tell me you can't handle it."
"I can go till dawn," Âi Shin shot back, winking, making Sun laugh loud. If Dear was there, he'd cry from how much his friends "loved" him... loved screwing with him.
The evening break flew by. The freshmen returned to the pressure cooker. The longer it went, the more exhaustion and stress hit, with everyone wondering when this brutal last cheer would end. They could barely hold back sighs when the final song wrapped.
But relief was short-lived—the real climax of the final cheer was just starting.
"We've got one last song for you. You've got love and unity, so be proud—this is your class's song. Listen up, focus. But don't think we'll accept you easy. If you can't sing this, everything you've done today's worthless!" a wáker barked, laying out why they were giving the class song (Dear heard it was just recycled from seven or eight songs every year). Then a teaching Phîi took the stage.
The final song carried the Phîis' love, passed to the Nongs aiming to join the engineering faculty. A song to carve into their hearts, marking the ordeal they survived together.
Over a month of hardship, tears, but also fun and joy from being part of a thousand-strong crew.
The unity the Nongs now showed the Phîis, who walked in with candles. Though the auditorium lights were off, the glow from thousands of Phîis' candles—no empty seats left—lit the room. This moment decided if the Phîis would accept them.
The class song roared, never fading, as the Phîis' candles went out one by one...
The moment all lights died meant... acceptance.
Phîis smiled at Nongs. A sacred vibe filled the cheer room as the candles dimmed, leaving only the one in the Phîi at the stage's front—the Phîi everyone knew as the Head wák.
In that moment, everyone held their breath, staring at Phîi Oat, who'd never cracked a smile in this room, now smiling... and looking at someone in the pitch-dark.
Whoosh.
Phîi Oat's candle went out, and the room lit up with fluorescent lights.
"From now on, you're the class of... and your Phîis will give you the gear that says you're full-fledged engineering faculty!" Phîi Oat boomed, marking the end of months of cheer meetings. Second-year Phîis stepped in with gears, symbols of pride, to hand to their Nong-advisees.
Chaos and laughter erupted in the auditorium as Phîis and Nongs called out for each other.
"Good job, Dear," Phîi Ryu said.
"Phîi Ryu." Dear turned to his Phîi Rahad, unseen for weeks, worried if Phîi Ryu would personally give him the gear. Seeing him smile wide, Dear grinned back, proud.
"This is what you wanted, right?" Phîi Ryu said, opening his palm to show the gear. His still attractive face looked happier than ever.
"Keep it safe."
"Thanks, Khrap, Phîi," Dear said, clutching the warm metal from his Phîi-adviser's hand, proud as hell. But before he could chat more, someone dragged off to grab a gear from another Phîi burst in with...
Wham.
"Been a while, Khrap, Phîi Ryu. I missed you, missed you," Âi Sun said, slinging his arm over his attractive Phîi-adviser's shoulder. Dear didn't need to describe Phîi Ryu's face—his annoying voice was headache enough. Now he went for a headlock.
"Let me go, you damned nuisance!" Phîi Ryu snapped back, polite as always.
"If I let you go, you'll bolt. Don't say you weren't running. Lying's a sin—Buddha taught us, Khrap," Âi Sun said. Dear stared, confused. Last time they met, weren't they about to kill each other? Why was Âi Sun acting so chummy with his Phîi Rahad now?
"Don't drag Buddha into this. If a face like yours can recite the Five Precepts, I'll kowtow to Phîi Boem's five limbs," Phîi Ryu retorted.
"Harsh, Phîi Ryu. Easy stuff. First: no booze. Second: no cheating. Third: no smacking mosquitoes. Fourth: no stealing. Fifth: no lying. See? Piece of cake," Âi Sun said.
Uh, Sun, Khrap, you botched it from the no-booze part. Even if you got all five, you flubbed them all. I want to say, Dear thought, not daring to speak, feeling his Phîi Rahad and Âi Sun were off somehow. Phîi Ryu looked pissed but tense, not itching to punch, glancing around like he wanted to bolt, though he said,
"Five Precepts, my ass." And Âi Sun got weirder.
"Why's Phîi Ryu not nice to little Sun, Khrap?" he asked.
What? Blythe doll ghost got him? Little Sun? Mixing up Nai Athit with Sunny from SNSD? Dear thought, making a funny face, but Phîi Ryu's was funnier. The attractive guy looked stunned, shaking with goosebumps, stiff, cheeks blazing red.
"W-what... you... no, why should I be nice to you?" Phîi Ryu stammered. Dear fought a scowl, swearing even after years as friends, he wanted to kick Sun's face. But instead of pushing it, Âi Sun looked shocked, dropped his arm from Phîi Ryu's neck, and lowered his head.
"I thought a guy like Phîi Ryu would keep his word. I hoped too much, huh?" His sudden sad act threw Dear and Phîi Ryu off. Phîi Ryu wanted to split, but seeing the Nong's genuine sad face, his heart felt pricked.
Just guilty. Yeah, just guilty about him, Phîi Ryu told himself. Why be nice to this punk? Plus, it stung that the guy he said couldn't win the faculty moon contest crushed it, no competition. And he didn't run—just didn't want to see that face and get pissed.
"Hey, Phîi Phim, over here. Done, right? Let's roll," Phîi Ryu called to his buddy chatting with a Nong, acting like he'd leave. But he couldn't help glancing back at the faculty moon, eyes drooping after him.
"I... fine, Phîi can play nice, but you... ugh, it's awkward. Just stop being a pain, okay?" Phîi Ryu said, dragging his friend out, ignoring Phîi Phim's gripes about missing the Head wák reveal. Dear turned to Âi Sun.
Phîi Ryu, Khrap, you fell for that Âi-damned-nuisance's trick hook, line, and sinker, Dear thought.
Âi Sun grinned wickedly, saying, "Stop being a pain? Wait till Âi Dear grows taller, Khrap."
Words that made Dear want to smack his head twice. Why drag him into everything?
"You're asking for it. If Phîi Ryu kills you someday, I won't help," Dear grumbled. Then the room's lights dimmed again, the projector screen dropped, and the Nongs hushed, staring at the countdown onscreen.
Music hit first, then 15 Cheer images flashed up. Nongs sitting tense, staring forward. Singing shots. Tons of images from day one in the cheer room. Even Âi Sun on the star-and-moon contest stage, oozing charm. Âi Shin standing mid-room, asking for punishment. Images sparking laughs and smiles.
And do you Nongs wonder who the Phîi ra-bìap are?
After the images, text took over, grabbing attention. The screen showed the mysterious wákers' names—no need to hunt if you wanted revenge. Listed one by one, up to the Head wák duo, who many just learned were named Phîi Sai-fah.
Bring rice for me to scarf down. I'm dying. Today I ran from Nongs like a headless chicken, Phîi Sai-fah said onscreen, sitting in the department room, lunging for a 7-Eleven lunch box from a friend's hand.
"This is behind-the-scenes, right? Got anything for the Nongs?" a voice asked.
"What to say... Well, onstage ain't the real me. I called down Olympian gods to possess me. So my mood swings like Hera catching her Phûa cheating, Khrap, Nongs," Phîi Sai-fah said, winking at the camera, making the Nongs roar with laughter, shocked he had this side. The screen cut to the last guy—respected by some, hated by others... Phîi Oat.
"Come here quick! That damned animal Oat's asleep," Phîi Sai-fah's voice boomed through the camera. It shook as the holder ran into a room with a long sofa, where Phîi Oat sprawled, legs dangling off.
Why's he like this? someone asked.
"Last night, that Head wák said tomorrow's yelling script was too harsh. He edited all night, so he's crashed here," a voice explained.
"Good. He's out, so we can film the evil Head wák. But he beats himself up every time he makes a Nong cry," another said.
Hmm... Hey!! Who said you could film? Shut that camera off!! Phîi Oat snapped, jolting awake, face confused, grabbing the camera from his friend. The auditorium gasped—everyone saw Phîi Oat, embarrassed, lunging for the camera.
Phîi Oat? The guy who stayed stone-faced even seeing tears, not one beard hair twitching? Dear thought.
The projector screen retracted, lights flicked on, and wákers from all years hit the stage, smiling. Except Phîi Oat. Phîi Sai-fah grabbed the mic, booming, "Welcome, Nongs, to our faculty. Should be Phîi Oat talking, but he's getting mobbed by young women backstage, so..."
"Âi Sai-fah!!" Phîi Oat yelled from behind.
"Oops, guess he's done being mobbed. Clap for Phîi Oat, the fierce, cruel, super cruel guy, even with young women's tears," Phîi Sai-fah said, laughing. As applause roared, a guy got kicked onstage from behind.
But the auditorium stayed quiet, searching for the fierce wák. The kicked guy scratched his head, walking to the stage front, taking the mic from his buddy.
"Hey, I'm Oat," he said.
The whole place gaped at the tall guy, haircut matching the Head wák's, but his sharp face—clean-shaven—showed piercing eyes, a strong nose, and a chiseled jaw. Being "mobbed" meant getting shaved, sparking...
"Heyyy eee!"
A scream Dear swore was like a whole K-pop band, stunned like everyone else.
That... Phîi Oat? For real? Dear thought.
"Why's everyone staring at me?" Phîi Oat asked.
At a bar (screw the law's closing time, it's staying open), a bunch of hyper freshmen sat at a big table, knocking back drinks. Âi Sun led the charge, dragging tired folks who wouldn't go back to the dorm to keep eating. Not just chatting with Phîis and wákers in the cheer room.
Everyone knew the cheer room was sacred—no booze allowed—so they hit a restaurant near the university. Dear didn't know how Âi Sun swung it, but four or five Phîis tagged along, including... Phîi Oat.
"Uh..." Was I staring at Phîi till I noticed? Dear thought.
"Nah, Khrap. Just... oddly surprising," Dear said.
Can shaving make someone look a hundred times better? Gotta get Âi Sun or Âi Shin to try, Dear thought. Phîi Oat, somehow next to him, rubbed his chin, looking a bit embarrassed.
"I told my friends not to shave, but they wouldn't listen," Phîi Oat said.
"Haha, how could they? You don't get it. The young women in our class planned it since you took the wák role. They said let you keep that scruffy face, so on last cheer day, you'd have a big reveal as the real attractive third-year," Phîi Sai-fah said, leaning in, shoving a glass at Phîi Oat, who shook his head, sighing.
"Total nonsense," Phîi Oat said. As the Phîis talked, Dear slid over to Âi Sun, nudging him hard.
"Âi Sun, I want to get back to my room," Dear whispered.
"But I ain't ready to go. Tomorrow I'm skipping, so tonight I'm pulling an all-nighter," Âi Sun said, heartlessly shoving a mixed drink into Dear's hand. Dear moved to the other side, where the attractive half-blood Khun-chai sipped booze all chill.
Good Lord, even your casual drinking looks cool, Âi Shin, Dear thought.
"Âi Shin... take me back, huh?" Dear asked.
Dear wasn't being picky, but it was past two AM. His heart wanted to flirt (?) with the guy at home since before dark. By now, Phîi Porsche was probably out cold for who knows how long. Plus, university buses and motorcycle taxis weren't running. Only two ways back: Âi Sun or Âi Shin.
Guys, I want to get home. Get it? Dear thought.
"Don't give me those puppy eyes. I ain't your Phûa," Âi Shin said, no mercy.
"Âi-heartless person, I wouldn't take you as my Phûa anyway," Dear shot back.
The guy at home's waiting for me to flirt. He just doesn't know it, Dear thought. But he was stuck. His best friends tag-teamed, "No going back till we're plastered." Other friends planned to get smashed at the bar anyway.
"If you don't take me, I'll snitch to Jae Dream," Dear said.
Boom.
Dear swore he nearly cracked up when Âi Shin froze. If I didn't want to go back so bad, I wouldn't pull the sister card, Dear thought, chuckling at Âi Shin's "scared of Jae Dream" face.
"Fine. Down this glass, and I'll take you back... When did Âi'Shorty learn to threaten?" Âi Shin said. Dear, the clear winner, laughed, sipped his drink, thinking Drink slow, no rush. Let Âi Sun have fun. I'll get back before dawn.
But as Âi Sun stumbled to the bathroom and Âi Shin—wasted—grabbed the mic to belt heartbreak tunes mid-bar (Dear just learned his voice was damn smooth), someone slumped next to him.
"In a rush to split? Want me to take you? I'm heading out," Phîi Oat said.
"Phîi Oat leaving already, Khrap?" Though he was the ex-fierce wák, Dear sensed he was kind, so he looked hopeful. Phîi Oat nodded slowly.
"Won't it bug Phîi, Khrap?" Dear asked.
"Nah," Phîi Oat said. Not wanting his friends to detour, Dear poked Âi Shin, said he was leaving, told him to tell Âi Sun, and followed Phîi Oat out.
"You good?" Phîi Oat asked the slightly dizzy Dear, who shook his head.
"Good, Phîi. Just had a bit," Dear said.
"Then wear this. It's chilly," Phîi Oat said, handing over his dark leather jacket from earlier.
"But won't Phîi be cold, Khrap?" Dear asked.
"Nah, I'm used to it," Phîi Oat said, smiling. Dear couldn't help thinking this Phîi looked better smiling, not always stern.
"Thanks, Khrap... Phîi Oat, honestly, I'm crazy about this minibike. Since that day its engine died," Dear said, taking the jacket and slipping it on, stroking the slick minibike, stoked. Really, I want to ride, but I haven't even passed my car license, Dear thought.
Or rather, that Jae Dream bloody fucking won't teach me.
"You like it?" Phîi Oat asked.
Thud.
Dear wasn't sure if he imagined it, but Phîi Oat gave him an odd look. Probably the bar lights, so he just grinned and nodded.
"Love it, Khrap. Like in a game," Dear, the game nut, said, hopping on behind Phîi Oat, who started the engine, unaware his "like" made Phîi Oat smile wide.
"Glad you like it," Phîi Oat mumbled to himself, getting Dear's address before revving out of the bar.
"Man, it's freezing," Dear muttered against the wind. Maybe the 3 AM air hit his little frame, making Phîi Oat feel Dear curling tighter against his back. From gripping his waist, soon... Dear was hugging him.
It might've been the first time Phîi Oat dropped someone off and felt this good.
No Phîi wák and Nong status between us now, Phîi Oat thought.
Purin had been parked on the lobby sofa for almost two hours, his trusty MacBook open on his lap. His sharp eyes flicked between the condo entrance and his phone, over and over.
Worried about the little one who hasn't come back, Purin thought.
"Need anything else, Khun Purin?" Khun Fon asked.
"Nah, Khun Fon, this is enough trouble," Purin said, glancing at the female staff on duty, then at the cocoa she'd made him an hour ago.
"Trouble? It's my job," Khun Fon said, batting her eyes at the attractive guy. Purin gave a faint smile, nodded slightly, and looked back at his screen to end the chat politely. But she kept going.
"Nong Dear's sure late today, huh? Almost three AM," Khun Fon said.
"He's got final cheer practice," Purin said.
"Those young ones are something. Reminds me of my freshman year. Years later, I feel old," Khun Fon said. Purin chuckled softly, nodding as she went back to her post when the phone rang.
Purin tried to focus on work, but his thick brows furrowed deeper as worry grew.
Vroom vroom vroom.
A motorcycle's roar made Purin stop, save his work, and close the laptop, thinking the puppy would stumble in, ears and tail drooping from exhaustion. But after packing up, no sign. So Purin stood.
Thud. At the condo door, Purin clenched his fist. His puppy was being kissed by some guy.
Wham.
Smack!
Without a second thought, Purin lunged, grabbed the guy's collar, and decked him in the face. He pulled the little one into his arms, voice low and sharp, "Don't mess with my person!!"
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