Chapter Text
Before I fell
in love with words;
with setting skies
and singing birds—
it was you I fell
in love with first.
Lang Leav
WIK—CHAPTER ONE
T H E F I R S T C O N C E R T
D-5
Macau likes to believe that he was never one to fall in love. That it was something so indescribably indiscernible and inevitably destructive for his well-being.
That, until, he found himself falling for Porchay-Pichaya Kittisawasd. Really, he did not expect that. He was a kid, too, just like him put in a life that they didn’t ask for. He was supposed to be the best friend, and he was supposed to stop his cousin to make sure he doesn’t hurt Porchay ever again. But even with his own selfish reasons, he couldn’t stop it. Believe it when he said, he tried.
It's always the little things, movies used to say and Macau would argue then because love was supposed to be grand—it was supposed to be extra special. But who would have thought that big things didn’t really matter. Porchay loved the little things, as simple as a single flower plucked from a garden and he would treasure that forever.
How he wished he met him sooner.
Kimhan had always got what he wanted. He wasn’t spoiled but instead he was independent enough to know what he wants and have it if he pleases. Or maybe, Porchay was just someone who will always choose him anyway.
Macau, as it appears, wasn’t bitter or anything, but just like everyone else he had that question—what if he met Porchay first? What if he was his first love? Would he be as unforgettable as Kim was?
He watches as Porchay looks up at the banner near their university, and sees him smiling up at the poster that hangs majestically all over Bangkok. Kimhan looks breathtaking as usual, he wouldn’t lie about that–he wasn’t blind. The photo of him had his hair down and unstyled, his leather jacket on with his white shirt underneath — it was simple, really—but for Porchay it never was. The way he looks at him now, you’d think he had never seen him in person, when in fact, he wakes up with the same man every single day.
He looks proud of him mostly and Macau wonders if love looks like that for everybody, even for him.
"Cau!" Porchay calls after he is done taking photos and probably sending it to Kim, running towards him with a smile. He couldn't count how many times he wanted to open his arms and catch him, but he refrains himself each time putting his hands on his pocket.
“Can we go to Kim’s studio? His manager said he hadn't eaten yet and I had prepared lunch for him. Accompany me, pretty please?”
“You really have to pass that driving test.” He teases, even though he was aware that Porchay just failed once and that wasn’t even his fault. Porchay tends to enchant anyone he meets and his driver’s instructor, who happens to be a young man almost the same age as his cousin KIm had his liking towards him and failed him on purpose so he could see Porchay again. That didn’t go according to his plan. Let’s just say that Kimhan Theerapanyakul made sure that he will not fail Porchay again nor anyone for that matter.
‘I’m trying!” Porchay pouts and he is gone for. “Come on, Cau!”
"Sure, whatever, fine. If it makes you happy." Porchay beams at him, and he may have already known about it, but it always caught him off-guard sometimes. They were each other’s happiness. It shows in the way they smile, or just the way their eyes would lit up in the mere mention of the other’s name.
Kimhan was Porchay’s happiness.
And Macau, well, he wanted to make him happy. So he drives him to his cousin. Because that’s what a good friend does.
When Macau dropped him off at Kimhan's studio, Porchay was smiling as he skips through the hallway of the building with throngs of people paying respect as he passes. He greets them with a smile, as polite as he will always be to the people working for their family. Their family. He wonders when will he ever get used to that word being muttered even in his head.
It's been awhile since he went there, or outside for that matter, without feeling terrified that someone will just strike and hurt him. It has been a tough time on a rough path that they had been walking through with shaky breaths.
He had so much he wanted to do with his life yet there was too much fear clouding the house that was supposed to be their home even when the so-called master had been long gone. Sometimes Porchay wonders what life is with normalcy–the kind of mundanity people his age would take advantage of. He would admit that this kind of life is never for the weak, and all his life he felt just like it.
But that fear has been a drive to be braver. Because there's no way he would lose the people he loves in this life; and if you can't get out of it—learn to survive in it.
There was no such thing as an easy love, anyway.
When he got to the top floor, the studio's door was closed and with Kim's guards just standing outside. He smiles up at them, walking towards one of his known guards—Sian, and hands him a bag of food for his team.
"I won't tell Young Master Kim about this," Sian says as he gratefully takes the bag from his hands. Porchay laughs, because it was never a surprise but always endearing that Kimhan is always so grumpy about “sharing” him, when all he does was be kind to these people who makes Kim safe when he is occupied with his music.
"There's cash there. Treat Cole and the others when you get down and bring them up here while you eat." He says and Sian smiles, opening the studio’s door for him.
Kimhan was recording when he entered, and outside the booth was his manager and two others in front of the console and board panel. Kimhan’s manager smiled at him giddily and signalled him to be quiet as his lover’s voice was heard mumbling something about recording the song one more time.
He stepped in but walked in a corner where Kim wouldn’t see him. This was a surprise after all.
“It was perfect, Wik. You want another go?” One of Kim’s producer friends, Porchay realizes, asked—obviously hiding his smile as he subtly looked at him.
“Yes. Just one more.”
“Why is that?” Kimhan didn’t look up from his music sheet, which means he’s that immersed with his work, and is usually so driven, he forgets everything else. They were recording and rehearsing for a new song. Porchay hasn't heard it yet and he guesses that it’s a surprise for his fans after waiting for a very long time. As a fan, he was so excited about it, too.
“It needs to be perfect.” Kimhan says, “ It’s for Chay. ”
It stunned Porchay, letting out an inaudible gasp and sudden thrum in his chest when he heard his name. It was for him. The song was for him.
“I guess we should stop for a while if you want that to be a surprise.” his manager says, standing up from where she was sitting and gesturing for Porchay to let Kim know he was there.
“Love,” Kimhan breathlessly whispered in surprise but it was heard loud and clear with the microphone on. Porchay bites his lips, suppressing his smile.
The surprise still ran to his system that when Kimhan went out and headed to him, he just fell into his arms on autopilot. Kimhan smells like lavender, Porchay’s own fragrance clinging on his shirt because he said he liked smelling like him, “I miss you,” Kimhan murmurs on his hair, uncaring of their small audience.
The people around them collectively groan. “Oh, the sweetness.”
Porchay hides his face on the crook of his neck as he chuckles with the way they mumbles their complaints with their public displays of affection. But he knew that behind those teasing was genuine joy for Kimhan—and Porchay was thankful that even with his secrets, Kim had people like them in his life.
The first time Kim had introduced him to his team, his manager cried, because she said it was the very first time he smiled so wide without a contract telling him to. He could remember their shocked faces when Kimhan openly said he loved him, when he initiates physical touch, when they see him act like this around him, carefree and happy.
“We will leave you now okay." Kimhan's manager says, picking up her bag and following the other two that were already out at the door with Kimhan's glare. She looked at them one more time, eyes a little suspicious, and Porchay ducks his head in embarrassment remembering that time she caught them in a rather compromising position—not just once—in this very studio. He knows that look well. "No funny business. So you two, be good.”
When his manager left, Porchay got his paper bag and handed it to Kimhan with a smile. “Lunch? Because someone says you haven’t eaten yet and I just found out why.”
Porchay smiles at the dusted red spreading on his cheeks, and how he looked at him with the unabashed shine in his eyes. “I’ll wait for it, " he says, reaching up with both hands to comb his hair with his fingers, getting the strands away from falling down his face.
“What I can’t wait is to eat. Come, it’s getting cold.” He held his wrist and led him to the table where they usually eat and beside it was a ceiling to floor glass window that overlooks the city. It was Kimhan’s favorite part of his studio. Sometimes he spends countless days in front of it, writing songs and smiling at the thought of the world in his fingertips.
He watches Kimhan open his lunch with utmost gusto and he might admit it to him but he always closes his eyes when there's food in front of him, like he is savouring how it smells before tasting it. It was endearing how he always tastes the rice first, feeling how well-cooked it is on his tongue before he scoops a mouthful of Kaeng Kari Kai.
Porchay likes to see him eat. Smiles how his cheeks are puffed with how he stuffs his mouth with food. It looks adorable.
He doesn't talk when he eats, and Porchay appreciates how focused he is, shaking his head with how he really hasn't eaten anything all day yet.
He then looks at the window, smiling at how beautiful the sky looks above. It feels somehow nearer and Porchay always wondered what it felt like to fly.
“There are times when I feel like I’m good enough for you.” he hears Kimhan say after a while. He didn't notice he was already done, his lunchbox now neatly placed back on his bag and the water bottle emptied. "Looking at you sometimes make me feel kike you're a dream. It scared me that when I blink, you're no longer there. What if you're not real?"
Porchay smiles, resting his face on his hand, staring at Kimhan as he did. “Sometimes, I’d ask myself that, too. You have always been just a dream to me. Then suddenly you're there and for the first time in my life, I don't want to fall asleep if I don't get to see you when I wake up."
Kimhan's eyes soften. He doesn't know how their conversation suddenly took a sudden turn, but they promised to listen to each other with every thought they have in their heads. "I'm sorry for hurting you, Love. For all the things I did. For the life you have with me. You didn't deserve any of the pains I left you with."
Porchay reaches out, holding his hand tightly. "I didn't deserve that, yes, but I met you out of it.I would never regret that, Kim. I would never regret you."
"You know what I think?" Porchay asks when Kimhan didn't answer. There are days that he feels like his words runs down. He would apologize for it but for Porchay he knew that there would be a song behind his head hat he would pour his heart to and he'd hear it loud and clear when he sings it.
Kimhan looks at him with glassy eyes, waiting for an answer. "I think we are meant to be, as sappy as it sounds, we just did it wrong the first time."
"You don't know how many times I want to cage you in my arms and let you stay there." Kimhan suddenly says, the tip of his ears red and his eyes beautiful with love.
Porchay laughs, warmth spilling out from his heart. “I’d love that.”
D-4
The tickets were sold out. Porchay was ecstatic with the news that all the seats were taken for Wik's first concert. There were now a lot of people now recognizing him. A lot of people will see how bright he'll shine on that stage and it all would be worth it.
A part of the guests that was invited is a charity family for children that survived fires and they were visiting today with the staff. Aside from the Charity House, the sponsors of the same House are also one of the contributors of Wik's Production will be there as well.
Porchay volunteered to help that day, and on his neck is an ID with a staff written on it. He was tasked to welcome the Charity Foundation which he had no problems with and they might be a rowdy little bunch, but the children were excited like they were on a field trip and he was absolutely charmed with their cuteness and enthusiasm. Music lovers, he assumes, and he remembers how he used to be a kid who loved his guitar more than anything.
When the children were led to the venue, Porchay stayed by the entrance to check if everyone, including the staff, was inside. That's when he sees a little boy looking up at Kimhan's poster outside, reaching out to it with the biggest gummy smile he'd ever seen. He was wearing the same clothes as the other children from the Foundation did and it was a good thing that he saw him before he wandered off.
Porchay walks towards the little boy and lowers down to make himself small enough so the child won’t be intimidated by his height. “Hi there, sweetheart.”
The child turns his head towards him and smiles, kind and charming just like his eyes, but there was something that made Porchay’s smile waver. There were scars on his left arm, probably from a fire.
“Hello, Phi!” Porchay smiles again as the little boy greets him back, giving him a polite wai.
“Your brothers and sisters are inside, buddy. Why are you here alone?” He touches the boy’s arms gently and it breaks his heart when he feels the scars painted on his skin. He looks so young to have such bruises on his frail body.
“I was looking at P’Kim!”
“P’Kim?” He asks. This little boy knows Kimhan’s real name? As if realizing his slip, the boy covered his mouth with his little hands and his eyes were wide as saucers.
“Oh, no! I promise to not tell!” The boy said, panic obvious in his eyes.
“Don’t worry. P’Chay knows P’Kim, too.” Porchay consoles, caressing his hair tenderly. “I’m P’Kim friend.”
“Really?” The boy asks, excitedly as Porchay nods, eyes twinkling. “You’re P’Chay, right?”
“Yes, buddy. How about you? What’s your name?”
“I am Woong! My name means magnificence!” The boy proudly says.
“Rae Woong!” Just then one of the staff from the Foundation came running frantically outside. Porchay stood up, holding the little boy’s hand in his.
“Woongie is here, Phi!” The boy shouts and the woman sighs in relief before walking towards them. She might have recognized him because the moment she was in front of them, she bowed in greeting. “Khun.”
“P’Mae! This is P’Chay, he’s a friend of P’Wik! Can I ask him if I could see Phi?” The boy politely asks and Porchay looks at the woman and nods.
“Of course. You can politely ask, Phi.” The woman, Mae, says.
“P’Chay? Can I meet P’Wik? Just a short while. Please?” Porchay can help but chuckle at his cuteness. He picks him up and gives him a little tickle before nodding his head as affirmation.
When they were heading back inside, Woong asked to be let down and walk on his own while Mae walked beside him in a respectable distance. “If Khun is wondering why little Woong seems to be attached to Khun Wik, it is because he was the one who saved him three years ago.”
Porchay looks at Mae in surprise. “I don’t know the complete details but Khun Wik was the one who took Woong out from the fire in his family home. I worked at the Foundation because I want to take care of Woong.”
While they were at the elevator Woong talked cheerfully about how Kim became his hero. Porchay learned that Woong was from an average family living in a village in Pattaya. He knew about that fire, it was one of the accidents that had been all over the news three years ago. Around that time, Kimhan was also there for a gig, And when he got home, he remembered how the bodyguards had talked about Kimhan and his sudden splurge of money. He didn’t understand what it was completely about, because Kimhan was never one to spend so much money, but now he did. He wasn’t wasting money, he was helping people rebuild their lives. That’s why the Foundation was important to Kim.
“We’re here, little buddy!” He said as they reached the 5th floor of the building and he could feel how excitement was vibrating from Woong.
When they entered the practice room, they were just in time because Kim and his team were on break. Even before Porchay could make their presence known, "P'Wik!" Woong wiggled out of his hold and ran to Kimhan who was frozen in place momentarily before his face broke into a smile and caught Woong as he ran to him, lifting him up before hugging him tight against his chest.
Porchay wanted to cry. This was the first time he had ever seen Kimhan with a child, holding him in his arms protectively. His heart swells at the sight — this man, who people called ruthless, has a child in his arms and holds him gently.
That little boy was someone Kimhan saved. Who he gave a new life despite the tragedy he had faced.
"Love," Kimhan calls and he has to wipe the lone tear that escaped from his eyes and smile at the two waiting for him with a grin. God, it was such a view to behold.
"P'Chay is your love?" Woong asks, tilting his head to the side.
"Yes, big guy." Kimhan answered and Woong nodded his head like he understood.
"That's why his eyes sparkled when I talked about you, P'Kim." Woong says and Kimhan looks back at him with a smirk, that immediately became a shy smile as he looked at him intently, not hiding nor denying what Woong had just said.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Kimhan asks, and Porchay reaches out to cup his face and smiles at the little boy who was looking at them both with big curious eyes. He kisses his forehead and Woong let's out a giggle.
"Well," he beams, looking back at Kimhan and giving him a kiss on his cheek, smiling at the flutters in his heart that he always feels because of him. "I think I just fell in love with you all over again."
D-DAY
The stadium was packed of people with light sticks that decorated the audience with that bright glow. Kimhan looked breathtaking in the middle of it. He shone just like a sun and around him are stars that made a whole galaxy seem to have fallen on Earth.
Kimhan sang with his heart, the fire in his eyes blazed with his music, and Porchay was sure there were tears in his eyes amidst his silver-glittered eye make-up.
Porchay cries with him as he sings back at him with the crowd, word per word he'd sing it with his heart and scream on the top of his lungs.
Kimhan looked ethereal. Wondrous. Out of this world.
His songs were his stories. He was like narrating his life stories to the world without them knowing how real it was. Most of the songs were like knives piercing through your chest, you'd scream like you had felt thr pain in it. There were songs that made some people sob—the longing palpable even the feeling wasn't theirs to own. Porchay's heart breaks and rebuilds with every song was sung, especially those song whose lyrics were from him and for him.
But at the same time his music was the pages of his book that he filled with ink and stories untold. It lived up to its name— Chapter One.
Why Don't You Stay felt like a dream in a heart-wrenching sleep, just like the first time he had ever heard it.
Then the last song came and the crown went quiet as Kimhan stood at the center, his acoustic guitar in his hand, and his eyes roam around the whole stadium, pride swelling from his eyes.
"My story is shared with every single one of you." He starts, his voice loud and heard. "I will be forever thankful that you are here to listen to every song I bleed."
Potchay admires how Kimhan had accepted the fact that maybe these people may not know who he really is to a depth, but they will love Wik's music. They will love his craft, they will sing his songs, and remember them for a long time.
Porchay listens to him joke with his fans, talk to them with ease, and watch them in awe as they scream his name when he says thank you.
"I also want to you to meet someone." The crowd roars as he Wik spoke again. His fans knew about him, his name that is. They knew and accepted the fact their idol was in love and Porchay was grateful for the support Wik had from his fans—the way they wished for Wik to be happy with every decision he makes, with the person he chose to spend the rest of his life with.
"He's a person I never expected to meet. A force of nature that I wasn't prepared for." The LED screen showed his face and the way he smiled got his fans screaming and cooing at him at the same time. Porchay just sat there, smiling like a fool, watching his lover talk about him to a thousand people.
"I hurt him. In ways I couldn't forgive myself for. I wasn't brave enough to be selfish enough to keep him. Because I always thought I wasn't capable of loving someone. I thought that being with me would break him apart because I couldn't love him right," Kimhan mindlessly strums his guitar, then stops as if he was nervous. And Porchay knew that it was hurting him, too. Talking about their past was never easy, it's a memory that they still have to learn to accept. "I lost him, too. I missed him everyday when I did . There were plenty of times when I felt that the longer he wasn't with me, my heart would ache like there's this constant crack, slowly bringing you to shatter. It would hurt today. Tomorrow.The next day after that. Probably forever ."
The crowd collectively showed how his story affected them, some are already crying on their behalf, and Porchay had to hide his smile while he was crying himself.
"I wrote songs and they ended up as broken as I felt." He says, then smiles. "But now I got him back."
The screams were loud enough to make Porchay cover his ears with his hand while joy warms his heart with the way they showed acceptance to both Wik being in a relationship and him loving another man. He thanks the society that is now understanding that love is love, and you are free to choose and fall in love to whoever your heart beats for. Regardless of gender. Of status. Of race. You just love—and you give it your all.
"And I promised myself that I would love him right. That in this story I am writing, he's there. Because since I met him — he was my beginning, my middle, ny end. This is the last song and this isn't just for us, me and my love — but for everyone who had written their stories with someone."
The screams got louder as the instrumentals started to play and Porchay waited with a held breath.
Sometimes, you get what you've always been wishing for
And most times, it's not on your deadline, but that's alright
It sounds cliché, the way it suddenly quiets down and all he could hear was him. Porchay could hear the thrums beneath his feet, the voices that hums with the music, but most of all he feels his heart beat as if it's outside his chest—alive with love that he feels for the man standing on stage.
I was worn out and jaded from trying on people to love
But you fit so well
When they ask why I can never explain
But a symphony played when you told me your name
And I took that as a sign
Porchay lets out a gasp as the LED screen flashed an animated version of how they met, all those days they were together, both from the past and the present. Their polaroids. Their music. Those late nights in the studio. Thos papers scattered on the floor and them in the middle of it, curled up together in a fitful sleep. They were all drawn beautifully to signify their love. Every place they went to, even those found in the simplest place in Bangkok. But what makes him cry even more were sketches of their future together. All the places they planned to visit, all those plans together like dancing under the Eiffel Tower.
It felt like a movie.
And Porchay wanted to run to him and wrap him in his arms.
Will you be my beginning, my middle, my end?
"Love," Kimhan says a moment after he finishes the song. "You made me realize that my heart wasn't just capable of breaking. That it was also capable of loving too much because you exist. And I'll exist to love you endlessly," he strums his guitar again, " Fifty years later and I'm still your beginning and middle and end. In every lifetime and more."
"You liked the song?" Kimhan asks, putting his hand on his back pocket and pulling him close as the camera flashes behind them.
"Kim!" He whispers-yells at his lover as his fans scream at the sudden display of affection.
"What?" Kimhan smirks, his eyes still gleaming with bliss and Porchay can't help but smile.
"I love you," he whispers just enough for him to hear and his lover's eyes soften, and he leans in to kiss his forehead.
"I love you, too, and if I'm not aware that you're absolutely shy right now, I would've kissed you senseless."
Porchay laughs and he can hear the shutters but he doesn't mind, so he kisses him on his lips, satisfied with how he looked so surprised and eyes darkening at the same time.
Their pictures might be out there when the morning comes, but it was a part of the story that they had shared to the world. And the world might forget it one day, but they won't.
Their story might end but they will write a new one, and just like any other story, each page won't be as happy as the other one but he'd write it still, and maybe someday their story will be done — but they will always be each other's Chapter One.