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Type should’ve seen the signs.
He should’ve seen the signs long before it came to this.
He had always known that Father favored him more than Tine... had always known that Father placed more hopes and dreams in his eldest son. Father had always been his source of inspiration... his Hero. So, Type has always reveled in the attention.
It stroke his ego when he started playing piano recitals at an early age of 5.
It stroke his ego when he gets called in front of class to answer hard equations on the blackboard and receive praises from his classmates.
It stroke his ego when he is one of the few to represent the school for the Junior Varsity History Bowl division.
It stroke his ego when all his achievements made his parents prouder... especially his Father.
But, he should’ve seen what happened on the other side.
Type started noticing when he was around in High School, when Tine stopped tailing him and had made his own set of friends. Tine had always been a timid boy, so he was a bit relieved when he witnessed Tine hanging out with some boys after class. Some kid who lives in Chinatown and two other kids who spent too much time in the internet.
Type’s sense of relief also came with the fact that he had one less responsibility to take care of as he was getting busier and busier with school and other academic activities.
Father and Mother spent lesser time with them when their firm was fully realized. This had been a life-long dream for his parents and their friends. But, what they made up for their dreams, they gave up time with family.
Type began to see the cracks around Father... that his Hero... was also human. And that every single human commits mistakes... commits faults.
It was in his graduating year, Grade 12, when Type witnessed the tension between his parents. They come home fighting about work almost every night. They barely even notice their sons anymore. Too busy to even tell if they come home late.
Father had become more stressed and angrier than he usually was... unapproachable, different.
Father placed more pressure on them both, reprimanding them of anything and everything they do wrong. He wouldn’t take failure as a result. Their future was already paved for them based on Father’s wishes. Type would take up International Business Management, to help him in the firm when he graduates. And Tine would take up Business Law to follow his footsteps... but, couldn’t care less what Tine wanted to do with his life anyway.
Every single pressure was placed on Type and he felt choked. His life had changed then and suddenly, achievements became an obligation and not a feat. It was all getting too much. He felt the bile rise in his throat and for a while, he had despised his brother with a passion. Why couldn’t Tine be good at something for Father to pay attention on him too? Why couldn’t he step up and do his part as the other son of the Aekaranwong family?
Type came home from graduation rite rehearsals late one night to find P’Phueng, his parents’ secretary, in their living room. For a moment, it made Type worry about her presence in their house because she usually had no business with them when his parents weren’t around.
“P’Phueng?”
“Aw. Nong Type.”
Type gives Phueng a wai and she does the same, “What’s going on? Are Father and Mother okay?” Phueng adjusts her glasses and she nods curtly, “Yes, they are fine. They are still in the office. There seems to be a problem with one of the client’s case and the hearing is coming up.” Type nods, pretending to understand, but her response didn’t seem to answer his curiosity.
“Why are you here, then?” Type asks, his voice clipped.
Phueng drops her head and she speaks lowly, “Nong Tine got into an accident today.”
Type’s back turned cold.
“I was instructed by your parents to bring him home from the hospital and-”
Type didn’t wait to hear the rest and he made a mad dash towards Tine’s bedroom. He carelessly opened the door a little too loudly, making P̂ā Nymm jump from where she sat. She was sitting at the edge of Tine’s bed, holding his hand.
Type rushes to his side and sees the white bandage around his head and slight bump on his right eyebrow.
But what shocked Type most was not the current state of his brother was, but the look on Tine’s eyes as he stared off in the distance.
What was once present in his brother’s eyes of warmth and light was replaced by void and loneliness.
Something in Tine changed then. Type noticed that Tine grew distant whenever he was at home. The bright, wide smile he used to flash to anyone and everyone became selective. He was a different Tine at school, the chic goofball... But, at home, he was a stranger.
Type had an unexplainable sense of grief and guilt. It was all getting too much and staying at their house became suffocating then. If they weren’t scolded by Father, they would hide away in their rooms. Gone were the times when they would all laugh together during dinner.
Type thought things would turn out for the better when Father and Mother won the legal case that they have been working on for the past year for some big-shot businessman. His Father got a good price for a new house and lot that Mr. Big-shot businessman offered him and they had immediately moved out as soon as the arrangements were made.
For a while, Type felt happy that he got to sit down and eat in the same table with his family again. Maybe this was the start of their family mending back together... for the cracks to slowly heal.
But, Type should’ve seen the signs.
They may be living more comfortably now... with a 3-story house equipped with a beautiful front garden and a swimming pool in the backyard, but nothing had changed from within.
Their family’s dynamic felt strained... forced... cold.
It was like living in a doll house where everything seemed beautiful and grandeur on the outside, but on the inside, they were mere lifeless dolls walking around on autopilot.
Empty.
Type couldn’t breathe. He had to get out.
When Type graduated High School, he purposely chose a University far away from Bangkok. He chose to study in Chiang Mai University.
He was able to escape. He was able to escape from the void.
Throughout his University years, Type attended countless seminars and retreats outside schoolwork. At first, he used them as an alibi to avoid going home. But, he later realized that it was a good way to keep his mind from exploding... to keep himself at bay... to keep himself tethered.
Through his means of trying to heal from his inner turmoil, he had found additional knowledge, social connections, but most of all, he had finally found peace from within.
So, Type was in genuine high spirits when he made his first call back home and conversed with his Mother for hours and hours with a clear presence of mind.
They had talked about Tine entering Huachiew Chalermprakiet University and studying Law. He had found out that Tine chose to stay in the dorms like him and Type had made a mental sigh of relief when he heard that his little brother was doing okay.
The next time Type hears from home, was when Mother calls him up to inform him of Tine moving out of his dorm room and Type does a double take. The first semester hasn’t even ended yet, so why was his brother already moving out and where the hell was he staying?
So, Type hadn't considered it an errand when Mother asked him to check up on his brother and the new place he was staying.
He had done some digging on Tine's social media accounts, he knew Tine was pretty active in his Facebook and Instagram. Maybe he could find some information there. He was beyond surprised when he found a recently uploaded photo of Tine standing super close to this dark mysterious man who had a look that could kill. But, what made his curiosity peak, was the caption on his post: "I like Sarawat."
Was this some sort of joke? Some sort of stupid dare between friends?
Type opened this 'Sarawat' person's IG account and saw only a few posts. But, what got his attention was a selfie photo of Sarawat wearing a High School uniform and behind him... was Tine? Type blinked once... twice, and zoomed in on the photo, bringing his face close to his phone to make sure what he was seeing was right. The photo looked like it had been taken when Tine was still in High School as he was still wearing his old uniform. This ‘Sarawat’ looked like he was wearing a High School uniform too.
Type goes back to Tine’s recent post and leaves a comment:
Who the hell is Sarawat? Why is he with my boy?
Type huffs as he throws his phone on his desk. He was rubbing his forehead in exasperation when his phone vibrates, notifying him of a reply to his comment:
Tine is my boyfriend. F* off!
Type’s jaw immediately drops and he stands up in anger, “What the hell?!”
Type wasn’t just going to stick around doing nothing. He needed to get to the bottom of this.
He did not buy it when Tine gave him a call a few minutes later telling him that his “friend” was just messing around. Type called him out on it and the more Tine insisted that he was telling the truth, the more Type was convinced that he wasn’t. It was time to pay his Nong a visit.
Type smirked in triumph when he invited himself over to Tine’s new apartment. He had guessed the obvious when he entered their bedroom and found a lone King-sized bed. If that doesn’t scream lovers, he doesn’t know what does.
Over the next few days, Type had witnessed more than enough to be sure that Tine was in a relationship with this unknown man. For how long, Type doesn’t know. But, what he does know... was that Tine was more serious with this man than with his previous flings. Type had seen the matching bracelets and was aware when Tine skipped over the lines he had taped around the apartment more than once when he thought Type wasn’t looking. He was even awake the night Tine sneaked out of his side of the bed to join Sarawat on the couch.
Tine had always been obedient... especially to Type. But, this... Tine going against him behind his back... was certainly a first... and it was unsettling.
Over the course of Tine’s freshmen year, Sarawat became a steady beep on Type’s danger radar. He was always on his guard, waiting that someday, his radar might alert him of something amiss.
It’s not in him to trust easily. After being through so much, Type fully accepts the fact that he comes off cold and vicious to most. He may have accepted their relationship, but, he doesn’t trust the man yet. He doesn’t know him enough to trust his little brother to this vulgar man.
Type continued to stalk their social media profiles and even followed their friends just to widen his scope. He had even secretly taken Tine’s phone and copied Sarawat’s number, saving it for future use.
He didn’t expect that he would have to trust the guy so soon... against his better judgement.
Ever since the two brothers decided to dorm for University, it became a silent rule in their family that both Type and Tine should be home to celebrate their parents’ anniversary together for lunch. That no matter how busy they would get, they would drop everything and make time to join the celebration. The rule alone made Type feel that it didn’t feel like a celebration.
Type felt uneasy. This would be the first year they celebrate their parents’ anniversary with everyone having not seen each other for months ever since Tine entered University. How were Father and Mother at home now whenever they come back to an empty house? How were they handling things in the firm? Do they still fight like they usually do or were they better now?
If anything, this celebration somehow gives him hope. That everyone deciding to show up means that everyone was still making an effort to make things work. Things usually get better with time.
A lot of things ran through his mind and he stalled inside his car before he would face the music. He was abruptly brought out of his thoughts when his phone vibrated.
Where are you?? Ph̀x and Mæ̀ are here!!
In the garage.
Then, why aren’t you coming in yet??
Stalling.
!!!!!!!!!!
Type had seen the signs that things weren’t looking up with this gathering. Everything was going downhill and he had to put a stop to this. He shot a quick text to Sarawat... to save his little brother. He doesn’t trust him yet . But, for now, he would have to m ake an exception... against his better judgement.
“Ph̀x!” Type seethed, “That. Is. Enough.” He had never felt more scared but more courageous in his entire life. His fists were trembling with anger and adrenaline, but somehow, it also felt liberating to be able to finally speak out.
And as he held his crying mother in his arms, he watched Sarawat drive away with Tine and made no moves to stop them. He didn’t expect that he would have to trust the guy so soon... for now, he had no other choice... against his better judgement.
Who was he kidding? This family has reached rock bottom.
-----
Type slowly opens his eyes and he inhales deeply then exhales through his nose. He repeats the motion for a couple more times until someone squats beside him.
"You seem to be pretty bothered."
Type gives the other man the side glance, his hands on either of his knees clammy. He had been meditating, but it seems like his brain had other ideas when instead of clearing his mind, it betrays him by giving him a whole flashback of his entire life.
Type tries to shake away the tension from his shoulders and slumps when the uneasiness doesn't go away. He rubs his forehead and sighs out loud in exhaustion, "It's just...
"Things." He shrugs, "Ever since that disaster of a lunch, I haven't been at ease. I always seem to be on edge."
"More than usual?"
"Sat, Man!" Type slaps him by the upper arm and Man laughs when he tries to escape a second too late and gets hit anyway, "Kidding! Kidding!" Man throws his hands up in surrender. Type huffs and straightens his legs instead, giving up on the idea of trying to achieve Zen tonight.
He jumps back a little when Man cups his cheek, Man looks at his eyes tenderly and smiles at the corner of his lips, "Do you know what I think?"
Type doesn't respond and waits.
"I think you need to have a little faith."
Type looks down and processes the information. Man tilts his chin up and looks at him squarely in the eyes again, "I know you've been through a lot... It wasn't easy. I know you feel protective of Tine because of everything, but P'Type, you are allowed to feel hurt too... You are allowed to feel pain and anger. Just because your father favored you over Tine, doesn't discredit your feelings of unacceptance.
You need to have faith and trust that Tine can take care of himself... And you need to have faith in Sarawat... that he's there to stay for a long, long time. You already know his side of the story, P'Type..."
Type's eyebrows furrow and makes a small pout, not wanting to admit that Man had a point.
"Lastly, you need to trust others around you. You're not in this alone... Even though you strongly believe you are." Man grins widely, placing his hand on top of Type's, "Take the burden off of your shoulders... it’s not your burden to carry alone.
“Faith can be both exhilarating and scary... To allow yourself to be vulnerable in the unknown. But you gotta trust the process and that everything happens for a reason."
Type lets the words sink in and he heaves out a sigh.
"When did you get so smart?"
Man beams proudly, "I have a smart boyfriend. He teaches me a lot of things and recommends a lot of good books."
Type rolls his eyes.
"And mostly, I got it from here." Man reaches for the book on the coffee table and flashes "Secret of Secrets by Osho".
Type purses his lips in genuine interest, "Hm. I haven't finished reading that."
"You should." Man feels triumph welling up in him when he realizes that he had successfully given the right advice to Type.
"So, can you be a little bit more open and forgiving to Wat starting now?" Man smiles.
Type crosses his arms and huffs like a child, "Only if he deserves it."
Man throws his head back and scratches the back of his neck, feeling as if they were back to square one, "Can you at least do it for your brother?"
"He burned a friggin' pot just to make congee, Man! Con. Gee!!! It's not rocket science!!! Who the hell does that?! How can I trust the man with my little brother’s life if he can’t even make simple porridge?"
“Uhh... I guess that makes two of us.” Man mumbles to himself.
"And the first thing he does when Tine wouldn't wake up was panic! Which is totally the opposite thing you'd do in that situation!"
"Well... you would if your boyfriend is convulsing with a high fever." Man shrugs, "Besides, he called you for help. At least, you’re the first person he thought about and not us, because we’d be useless."
"That’s besides the point! Stop siding with your best friend!"
“Yes, Sir, Scary Sir! I mean, P’Type, Sir!” Man shoots his hands up in surrender.
Type stops to think about everything that had happened, so far. How Sarawat always placed Tine first. How Sarawat would always place Tine’s best interest as top priority... and how Sarawat’s world practically revolved around Tine. Type didn’t like to admit it, but it was slowly starting to creep on him, that someone else can take better care of his brother than him.
Tine was an adult now. He has capable friends (even though most of them are idiots). He has a semi-capable boyfriend. And Man can spy for him in case something else happens.
Type heaves out a sigh the umpteenth time.
Man was right... Type guesses putting a little faith in others isn’t so bad after all. He silently thinks that in order for him to make the uneasiness go away, is for him to literally let it go and choose to make it go away.
“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” Type mutters with a smirk.
“Did you say something, P’Type?” Man breaks his thoughts and Type all but chuckles as he shakes his head, “Nothing.”
End.