Chapter Text
༺ 𝓟𝓮𝓽𝓮 ༻
Vegas has this aura which could bring anyone to their feet. He walks like he owns the place, he smiles like he could lure any monster into submission, and when he speaks, people can’t help but listen. At least, that is how people look at him. He is a good actor and people love a good show.
In the old days, when Pete was still new to his customs, he’d feel flustered or even intimidated by the man who is a good three inches shorter than him. But now he knows better. After seven long years, he knows when Vegas put on a mask. He knows about the facade Vegas uses to mask the buried broken pieces he is so hell-bent on hiding. His tough exterior, merely a defence.
“Hey, can I talk to you?” Pete had already noticed the guy approaching. The lanky guy had been fidgeting in the corner for some time now while taking nervous glances at their side. He has seen him in their Instrument and Machines class, always sitting on the back side despite being smart. Pete waits for Vegas to reply and reject yet another one of the confessions. It's a monthly affair.
“What is it?” Vegas nonchalantly asks, his hands shoved in his pocket.
“Uh..sorry not you, Vegas. I want to talk to, uh, Pete,” the boy answers timidly.
Pete crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows. “Sure, what’s up?”
“Uh, I’m Pol. We have the same Instruments and Machines class.” Pete waits for him to continue after an awkward long pause, “uh, I wanted to ask if we can have lunch together today?”
“You want to sit with us in the cafeteria?” Pete tries to subtly clarify that he and Vegas will lunch together.
“No, uh, just you and me. Cafeteria or anywhere else, really I don’t mind,” Pol rushed, looking visibly nervous.
Not many people make an advance on Pete and when they do, he always rejects them, reasonably so. However, this time he tries something unusual. He could feel the numerous people looking their way.
“Sure. Let’s meet at the cafeteria at one. I’ll find you.” Pete pats his shoulder and smiles, dismissing their interaction. “Let’s go, Vegas.”
Vegas continues to stare at Pol as Pol actively tries to avoid his eyes. When he doesn’t move, Pete calls out his name again. “Vegas?”
Hands out of pocket, Vegas starts to walk, looking even more bored. Just when they are outside their next classroom, Vegas stops to face Pete. “So, we’re not having lunch together?” Vegas shows as much expression as a white blank page.
“We are. Just after I’ll listen to what he has to say.”
For some reason, this makes Vegas chuckle. “What are you going to do if he asks you out?” This is the first time Vegas has used more than five words today.
“I'll say yes obviously,” Pete plays along, being well aware of the impossibility of the scenario. He let Vegas have his way.
Vegas fold his hands over his chest and leans against the walk behind him. “People would think we broke up.”
Pete shrugs, “they won't be completely wrong.”
“Or,” Vegas gives his trademark smirk, “I can just scare him off.”
Pete laughs, “I don't think you'd even have to try.” A couple of students enter the classroom beside them. Pete juts his chin towards the door, “Class’ filling up. Let’s get inside.”
-
The cafeteria roars with voices, overlaid with the sound of trays hitting tables. Vegas rests his elbows against the table as he continues to play with leftover peas on his plate absentmindedly.
They ate in silence for most of the part except when Pete tried to make small talk by mentioning upcoming assignments and other class-related stuff. Vegas, with all that burden that's already on his shoulders, probably couldn't care any less about that.
Pete checks the time on his phone. 12:58 pm. He had already spotted Pol when the guy entered the cafeteria a few minutes back. Pete gives one brief glance to the distracted Vegas before getting up.
“Is this the part where we say our goodbyes?” Vegas unexpectedly speaks up, dramatically putting his hand on his chest.
Pete rolls his eyes. Vegas, at times, can be really silly. It makes Pete feel at ease though. It’s not often he sees Vegas so upbeat and It’s even rarer with everything that’s been going on lately. “I’ll be back in ten minutes tops. Stay here.”
Pete picks up his tray, drops it in the bin on the way and strides over to Pol’s table at the quietest corner of the cafeteria. He smiles when Pol notices him. “Hey,” Pete says settling down in front of Pol.
“Hey, you came,” Pol says. He is smiling too, looking less nervous than before.
“You wanted to talk about something,” Pete cut to the point, not wanting to waste time.
“Yeah, I wanted to ask if you and Vegas are, you know, dating?” the most obvious first question, Pete thinks.
“Why do you ask?”
“Because everybody seems to think so.” There’s always a But. “But,” knew it. “I think that’s not it. I don’t think you guys are dating.”
“Is that all you wanted to say?”
“Not really.” Pol shifts on his chair and suddenly, he doesn’t look like the same shy person Pete met earlier. “I needed to confirm a few things about Vegas.”
“And you thought asking me was the way to do it?” Pete raises his eyebrows.
“You’re obviously with him for your own profit, aren’t you?” Pete doesn’t reply. Overused trick.
“You know he’s loaded, right?” Pete continues to maintain an uninterested face, giving away nothing. A lot of people could figure out Vegas was rich by his sports car alone. Pete knows that’s not the point of the conversation.
“You know anything about his parents?” Pete half-hoped he wouldn’t go there. It never ends up good. When Pol gets no reply he continues, “Maybe this picture might help you remember something?”
Pol pulls out a paper from his bag on the table and slides a picture of Arnie Jirayungyurn. One of the famous tycoons of Thailand. She is the one who recruited Pete. This is the most frustrating part of the job. Watching the amateurs think they stand a chance in blackmailing. He wants to stop Pol right there but first, he needs to know how much this guy knows.
“I’m sure you know her,” Pol speaks confidently.
“Don’t beat around the bush, Pol. I don’t have the whole day to sit here. Get to the point.”
“Of course. After all…” Pol smiles wider, “you got a man to protect. I understand, man.”
“Pol,” Pete warns, his voice underlined with the hidden threat.
Pol leans back in his seat. “Jeez, don’t be mad now. Look, I have known this for a while. I know stuff. But I’m harmless. I’m just a broke college student that’s all.”
You're also an idiot, Pol. Pete folds his arms, leaning back. “How much?”
“One million. It’s not really much, is it?” It is not. For Vegas’s parents, this is nothing. But that’s not where the power lies. Just because they are capable of paying that, that’s not how the problem is solved. It just lets the other person live in the illusion that they won and when they come back to strike again, thinking they have a chance, it almost never ends up pretty for the naive people like Pol.
Pete decides to give him one final warning.
Pete straightens his posture as he intertwines his fingers and settles it on the table. “You have a sister going to Kiesen High. Right?” Pol’s face hardens. “Look, this is the first and last time I’m saying this so listen very carefully. Back off while you can, Yeah?”
Pete flashes a sweet smile and reaches out to pat Pol’s shoulder again but for a totally different meaning now. “I guess now that there’s nothing more to talk about, you can turn off the recorder on your phone, yeah?” Pete smirks as he points to the screen-down phone kept beside the bag in an attempt to camouflage and stands up from the seat.
Pete, at first, really thought of the possibility that Pol wanted to ask him out. But when someone is in the business for as long as he has been, it’s always easier to assume the worst in people all while pretending to fall into their games. A little background check never hurts anyway.
“That was quick, Pete,” Vegas deadpans when Pete arrives at the table. Vegas doesn't have his plate in front of him anymore. He left his seat.
Pete takes his seat. “Told you I’ll be back in 10.” He keeps his eyes on Pol until he sees him leave hurriedly and disappear behind the flapping doors. Pete pulls back his attention to Vegas.
Vegas smirks, leaning forward on his elbow. “Did you tell him your boyfriend was waiting?” Pete should've been used to it by now but most often than not he ends up feeling taken aback at the ability of Vegas to change his mood so quickly. It's one of the things that makes it difficult for Pete to understand the inner working of the brain of Vegas Theerapanyakul.
Pete forces a smile, not sure of what to say. Vegas must have looked at them talking although he can't know what it was about. He doesn't want Vegas to know about Pol just yet. Not until Pete is sure that Pol is harmless.
“We haven’t boxed in a while. Do you think you can take me down now?” he says, challenging Vegas, hoping to change the course of the conversation.
The smirk turns into a thin line as Vegas gives Pete a long look, telling him silently that he knows what Pete is doing. Although Pete knows Vegas doesn’t appreciate it when he keeps things to himself, he is glad Vegas doesn’t push it. Pete hopes Vegas would understand.
Vegas squares his shoulder, leaning back. “Why don’t we find that out today?”