Chapter Text
Attending a ballet performance had sounded great, even more when Gulf had never watched one before, but the far too comfy seat and the theatre’s darkness got the better of him and he dozed off eventually.
Gulf had tried to fight his sleep away, he really did. He used pressure points to stay awake and pinched the thin skin of the back of his palm, but nothing had been effective. In his defense, he had a shooting at dawn and his day had been packed with different schedules, leaving him zero occasion to rest.
Notes of classical music barely reach his ears during the few moments he regains consciousness but he sees absolutely nothing of the ballet. There could have been an elephant on the stage, Gulf wouldn’t have even noticed the animal.
A part of Gulf feels apologetic towards the artists for sleeping during their performance. They must have rehearsed a lot but he is unable to give them the attention they deserve. He’s only human though. When his body stops functioning, there is nothing to be done except listening to its plead.
It’s Tul, his manager, who wakes him up when the lights start to erase the darkness of the performance hall, shaking his body with enough strength to pull him out of his daze. Gulf blinks at him, his brain slowly remembering where they are, then he stands up, smoothing down his tailored pants. He can’t wait to get inside the car and be on his way home. His bed is already calling for him.
"Journalists are waiting for you." Tul contritely announces.
"Did I agree on giving an interview tonight?" Gulf can’t always keep track of everything even if he does his best to keep his daily schedule in mind. There is no interview recollection in his memory. He only came to the ballet because it was a gift from one of the brand he endorses. It’s not an official event, just a personal outing.
"No, it’s just a matter of one or two questions. They want to take a few pictures of you and the male lead for their articles." The main dancer whom Gulf has literally no idea who he is because he was asleep the whole time. Awesome.
"Alright, but no more than two questions. I’m seriously dead."
They wait for everyone to leave the main hall and follow the vip guests to the entrance hall where journalists are gathered, already busy doing their job. At that specific moment, Gulf wishes he wasn’t as famous as he is so that he could leave the place incognito and crash in his bed. But he is worldwide famous and as soon as he makes his appearance, people are already calling for his attention.
Just endures it for five more minutes, Gulf chants to himself as he strides towards one interviewer he recognizes, one who is always polite and respect privacy. If he has to reply to some unplanned questions, at least Gulf knows the man won’t ask him any unnecessary intrusive one.
"Kanawut, what a pleasant surprise to see you there. How did you enjoy the performance?"
Right. The performance.
Despite hating to lie, Gulf finds himself at a dead end. What can he do if not embellishing the truth? Openly confess to sleeping during the whole show? That would be rude. Giving a lie of convenience doesn’t sit well with Gulf either. He needs to come up with something. Quick.
"Ballet performances are felt and offer pleasing aesthetic to the eyes. It’s quite difficult to express your impression with words, especially when it’s a first experience."
The wisely worded comment doesn’t come from Gulf but from a tall man who appeared out of nowhere. Gulf takes in his appearance, noting the way the man oversized shirt slips on the side to reveal most of his left shoulder. It’s simple yet effective.
Gulf wonders who the man is. He has met with countless of models but this face is not familiar. They’ve probably never met. The man barely looks at him.
"Suppasit. Thank you for joining us. You must be exhausted after all this dancing." The journalist happily announces as Gulf’s tired neurons connect together. So the man isn’t a model but one of the dancers. Could he be the male lead Tul talked about?
"Dancing is what makes me feel alive, I am more than fine and honored to be here tonight." The man, Suppasit, speaks with a tone Gulf finds oddly calming.
"Your performance was extraordinary Suppasit. Don’t you agree with me Kanawut?"
"Of course I do. The fluidity of movements was impressive." The lie slips from Gulf’s lips way too easily. The dancer’s eyes fall on him and focus on the journalist a second later.
"It was, wasn’t it?" The interviewer confirms with a smile, apparently hyped about the show and the artist. "Do you mind if we take a few pictures of you two together? It’s not everyday that we can get Thailand’s most famous ballet dancer and model in one frame."
"Looking pretty for cameras isn’t my job but I will do my best not to embarrass our Nation’s model."
The journalist and the dancer exchange a cordial laugh but Gulf doesn’t join in, slightly bothered by Suppasit’s comment. It has been nothing but polite, so why does he feel like the man just sent him a spiteful remark?
Gulf doesn’t have the occasion to dwell on the topic for long though. As soon as the photographer shows in front of them, the model inside Gulf effortlessly comes out. He stands tall, hands in his pants pockets and tilts his head slightly to one side, eyes fierce. He looks the most powerful and glamorous when he doesn’t smile and right now, next to the ballet dancer, Gulf believes it’s the most fitting look he can give.
"You two look fabulous." The journalist comments enthusiastically. "Ever thought about doing a photoshoot together?"
"The opportunity never came up." Gulf politely provides. He doesn’t know what else to say.
"Does it mean that if an opportunity presented itself, you would be willing to take it?" The journalist is fast to pick up on what Gulf has just said and his question leaves him cornered.
"Great opportunities can’t be missed." Judged by the expression on his manager’s face, he understands he shouldn’t add more if he wants to stop getting into deeper water.
"What about you Suppasit? How would you feel about working with Kanawut?"
Said Suppasit looks at him for the second time that night. His eyes are intense, yet, just like earlier, they don’t stay on him for long. It gives Gulf the impression that the ballet dancer truly isn’t fond of him.
Gulf doesn’t expect everyone to like him but he isn’t a mean person and there is simply reason as to why the man has decided to give him the cold shoulder. He is doing it discreetly for sure, but still, Gulf feels the dancer’s negative vibes nonetheless.
"It’s only fair that if I get to be a one time model with Kanawut, he gets to try doing my job too." Suppasit calmly speaks. Gulf isn’t certain he understands what the man means.
"You mean ballet?" The journalist quickly asks, his excitement showing. "You get to model with Kanawut and Kanawut get to dance with you. That’s an amazing idea! Beautiful! Can I write about it in my article? Should people expect a project involving the two of you?"
Hearing the question has Gulf understanding that he has put his foot in his mouth when he started talking about work opportunities. He doesn’t know much about Suppasit’s exposure to the media but in his case, if an article about him willing to work with the dancer is published, his agency will make sure it happens. Gulf won’t be given any way out and he is far from being a great dancer.
Moving in front of the cameras and looking handsome he can do. Moving his long limbs and looking alluring? He can not.
"That was just a thought but modeling and dancing are both art. I believe it could be interesting." Suppasit adds, confusing Gulf even more. Why does the man almost offers him a project when he appears to dislike him? "If you’ll please excuse me, I have another interview planned with the lead ballerina and I suppose Kanawut could use some rest now."
Gulf doesn’t hear what the journalist replies and vaguely sees him leave in his peripheral vision. His brain is focused on Suppasit’s last comment. It sounded too specific to be void of meaning. Gulf simply holds onto to the dancer by asking him the question that pops in his head.
"Have I done something to upset you?"
"Apart from lying about my ballet performance? No." Oh. Gulf did annoy the man for real.
"I didn’t exactly lie…" He did tho, in order to avoid being rude.
"Then tell me how you knew about the impressive fluidity of my movements when you spent the whole performance sleeping?" The question echoes bitterness and matches the grim look in the man’s eyes. So this is what it’s all about. Gulf missing the dancer’s performance and the man being afflicted by it for some reason.
"Alright. I fell asleep because I’m up since 4 in the morning but it doesn’t mean your show wasn’t great."
"Just that it wasn’t just good enough to keep you awake." The man is offended and while Gulf can understand, he still finds his reaction excessive. It’s not like he purposely slept during the man’s dance.
"I’m sorry." Gulf apologizes, hoping for Suppasit’s mood to ease. He doesn’t particularly enjoy when people are mad at him for no reason. "It has nothing to do with your work. I’m sure you did great and —"
"Save your excuses." The man impolitely interrupts him.
"Why are you so upset with me? I don’t understand."
"I was looking forward to tonight and you ruined it."
And the man leaves to join his dance partner and the interviewers. Just like that, without giving Gulf more explanation nor saying goodbye. If there wasn’t so many people in the entrance hall, Gulf would have called out his behavior, but they aren’t alone so he keeps his comment to himself and goes back to his manager.
Little words are exchanged between him and his manager as they make their way to the car. His mood is a little sour and his sleepy state totally gone. His brain can’t help but replay his meeting with the ballet dancer, preventing him from napping in the back of the car. What could have he done to upset the man to that extend? What did Suppasit even meant by he was looking forward to tonight? And how did Gulf’s sleeping self exactly ruined his performance?
None of this made sense.
"What’s the name of that ballet dancer? Suppasit who?"
"Jongcheveevat." Tul replies, eyeing him in the rearview. "Why?"
"Do I know him? Did we ever met?"
"I don’t think so. Did something happen? You two seemed a little tensed."
"That’s what I’d like to know. He saw me sleeping and said I ruined his night."
"Because you slept?" Even his manager sounds shocked by that.
"You tell me."Gulf huffs and closes his eyes, head resting against the window.
Suppasit Jongcheveevat.
Gulf repeats the name over and over again, mouthing it silently, letting the letters roll over the tip of his tongue. It shouldn’t be familiar but why does Gulf remembers it already? He has never been good at remembering names and yet, Jongcheveevat doesn’t seem unknown to his memory.
Gulf pictures the man’s face again, thinks about his tall frame and his calming voice. He tries to find a link that might not exist and then, out of nowhere, everything clicks together.
Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat.
The man who found him half dead in an alley after he came out to his friends height years ago.