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"Young master, I think we should change the series. This won't give you good dreams." Pol hesitantly suggested when the eldest son of Theerapanyakul family wailed into a stuffed cat. "But I need to know if the bad guy dies! Will he die? And where is Porsche? He promised to watch with us!" Tankhun continued his weeping. "Now that I don't have Pete, and Porsche only comes once a week, I'm all alone!"
Arm and Pol exchanged a look, and Arm shook his head. He was used to this. And he also saw the series at least four times at this point, knowing the ending. "The bad guys dies. Of course he dies, he deserves it. Bad guys always deserve to die." He smiled, comfortingly stroking Tankhun's shoulder. "Even the big boss? Can the big fish die?"
Pol felt is palms sweat. Here we go. Tankhun's recent obsession. "Young master, the big fish is just an urban legend. You know he doesn't exist. Khun Korn is the biggest and best boss around here." He chipped in, letting Tankhun use his necktie as a handkerchief. "Big fish exists. He is very much real." Tankhun said, picking one last boogie out of his nose and wiping it onto Pol's tie. Pol and Arm sighed in unison. It started with the attack on main family. The young master got very suspicious of the attack, as he believed someone else has lead uncle Gun to the decision to attack the main clan and try to take over. Uncle must have known they would get defeated, and the more Tankhun thought about it the more he was sure his uncle used this sure suicide mission to take an easy way out of whoever's grasps he was in.
Arm attributed this obsessive behaviour and delusions to Tankhun's grieve about Pete. Even though the man was alive and kicking, in frequent contact with all of them, not to mention living with Vegas only two hours away, Tankhun cried over him nearly daily, as if he truly died. On the other hand, Porsche came over at least twice a week, but besides a quick briefing with Khun Korn, he and Kinn spend time together behind closed door, and Tankhun didn't have to think twice about what they were doing.
"I've been trying to get Kim to find out who the big fish is, but he couldn't find anything. Kim is smart but stupid. Just you wait, I will show everyone who the big fish is." Tankhun switched the TV, grumpily lounging on the bed. Pol approached with a tray of fruits and milk, with a little cup of pills. "Young master, your medicine." Pol's hands shook a little when he set the tray down, and watched as his boss huffed and took the pills. "Aaaaa!" Tankhun opened his mouth, lifting his tongue for Pol to check. "Now shoo, I want to go to sleep. You're annoying me." He dismissed his bodyguards, and quickly laid back on the bed, eating his fruits. Once the air was clear, he tongued out the pills he tucked into his cheek, spitting them into an empty banana peel. He wasn't sure how long he could keep this charade going.
"Where is Kinn?"
"He's still sleeping. He is skeptical..."
"I figured. I sent him a breakfast present, I think it should arrive around now. I'll see him tonight."
"Wait wha-" Porsche frowned at his phone, quickly hiding it in his pyjama pocket when the for to Kinn's bedroom burst open and Korn stepped inside, a clear look of terror on his face as he approached the bed and violently shook Kinn's body. "Babe, what are you-dad!" He panicked, promptly sitting up and tying his robe. "What's going on?" He asked, waking himself up to the best of his abilities. "You need to leave. Hide. Now!" Korn spoke, erratic. Kinn has never seen such expression in his father's face, he has never seen him afraid, of anything, yet now he was in sheer panic, pulling on his son's arm. Then, Porsche looked back, seeing one of Korn's bodyguard holding a fishbowl, with woman's head in it. She looked very familiar to him, with black hair and thick brows, a striking resemblance to her son who long thought she was dead.
"Mom?" Kinn gasped. He was told she died when he was a child. Yet here she is, the blood in the fishbowl still fresh and flowing around. He looked at his father confused, then angry. "What is the meaning of this!?" "The big fish-" "Isn't real! You told me that yourself. And you told me mother has died ages ago! I've seen her casket, I've been to her funeral! What the hell is this?" Korn sighed when his son yelled back at him. "He is real, he is very much real. I was trying to protect you." The man pulled on his son's arm again. "I don't have the time to explain it to you, you have to hide! I don't want your head to be in the fishbowl too!" "No dad, you need to explain!" Kinn yelled back, jerking his arm free of his father's grip.
"They are a clan, a family, just like our. Just...much bigger, and much more powerful than anything we could ever think of. They're evil, they don't negotiate. They just kill. And they know everything, and I mean everything. And they definitely have a spy amongst our men." "I thought uncle Gun already killed Ken-" "Ken was just a tiny fly! Unimportant irrelevant little fly, planted by Gun. Kinn, son, please." The old man pleaded, glancing towards the bloody fishbowl. "I hid your mother, in South America, in the smallest, most forgotten village. More than two decades ago! I made sure no one would ever know! And yet..." He rubbed his eyes. Kinn has never seen his father so much as tear up, and yet he was now trembling, fighting back tears. "Who are they?" "I don't know. I've never met any of them, I just heard rumours. Whispers. There is a son who is now the leader, and he has his right hand man, a pet that he controls with a snap of his fingers. They are ruthless, they don't get their hands dirty personally, they have many people to do that. They are masterminds when it comes to black mail."
Kinn bit his lip. He knew no diamonds, no guns or drugs, nothing can be more powerful, more damaging, and more valuable, than information. The right information in the wrong hands could bring down nations. "They definitely have someone here. Kinn, hide." "I'm not afraid!" Kinn yelled again, frowning as he noticed his father clutching a piece of paper. "What is that?" With trembling fingers, Korn handed over the crumpled up note, his heart beating fast. Kinn frowned. It was written in English.
'Let's meet tonight, Kinn. I have a wine I'd like you to taste. <><'
Kinn balled up the note in his fist and angrily threw it in the trash. "What the hell do they want?" "That's the thing." Korn run a hand through his greying hair. "Nothing. Just to kill. Just because they can. Just to show us who controls our world. Kinn, to them, we are cockroaches. And they kill cockroaches just out of boredom."
Frustrated with the answer, Kinn wanted t throw things around. Ever since childhood, he thought of himself and his family to be the most powerful, the most fearless, the most influential people. And yet, now he feared.
Porsche watched as his boyfriend angrily pulled his cousin by the collar, spitting out insults into his very confused face. "What the hell are you on about?" Vegas pushed him away, wiping Kinn's spit from his cheek. "I have no idea what you're saying. What big fish?" "Don't act like you don't know." Kinn yelled, pushing his cousin to the ground. He was anxiously pacing around since morning, everyone was on high alert, and here comes Vegas, strolling into the main family mansion without knowing. "He doesn't." Kinn's eyes widened as he felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed against his head, and his lover's voice whispered into his ear. "Porsche..." "Sit." Porsche tapped his shoulder and gestured towards the large sofa where Kinn's siblings and father sat.
Confused as to what is happening, Vegas scrambled to his feet, but got quickly pushed onto the sofa too, his shoulder bumping into Kinn's. He noticed his uncle's and cousin's faces were all grim, scared, and confused, as Porsche aimed the gun at them with over dozen men standing around, all aiming their weapons against the Theerapanyakul family. A brief sense of relief washed over Vegas as he remembered Macau and Pete went out together, until he noticed his brother slowly approaching and sitting right beside him. Macau's face was stained with angry tears and he refused to speak. Then, they heard it. A very familiar voice, singing the children's nursery rhyme.
"One, two, three, four, five, once I caught a fish alive..." Pete emerged from the shadows. "Pete!" Vegas had to be held back by his younger brother who tightly gripped his arm. "Six, seven, eight, nine, ten, then I let it go again." Pete touched Porsche's shoulder, lowering his arm. Vegas has never seen Pete like this. He was dressed stylishly, with golden jewellery and hair pushed back, and he wasn't wearing contacts to make his eyes brown. He was the only one who knew about Pete's natural eye colour, but he wasn't sure why Pete would ever hide it.
A man from the side shoved a wine glass into each of the Theerapanyakul's hands and bowed, handing over a bottle to Pete who unscrewed the top and began pouring into their glasses. "Why did you let it go? Because it bit my finger so..." He poked Tankhun's cheek. "Which finger did it bite? This little finger on my right." He then sat down into an armchair, facing the six men who stared at him, in both fear and defiance. "Where is my glass?" Pete asked the man, who quickly came over with another empty glass, and he placed the wine on the table. "Pour me some, please." He smiled at the Theerapanyakul family, but none of them budged. "I asked nicely. Please, pour me a glass."
It was Tankhun who stood up and filled Petes glass too before giving him a look of aversion. "Oh don't grimace at me, young master." Pete picked up his glass. "We both know you're the fake one here. Faking mental illness your entire life just to avoid taking over. I guess we are both pretty good at pretending to be stupid." He smiled again, gesturing for Porsche to come closer. Porsche sat at the edge of Pete's seat and he tilted his head when Pete scratched his neck and chin. Like a dog. "You two are..." Kinn scrunched his nose in disgust. "Don't be gross, Anakinn." Pete shook his head. "Porsche is my best friend. Tell me, did you like my present this morning?" Khun Korn shuddered. He thought of Pete as one of his most reliable people, and his leave for Vegas hurt him deeply too. Porsche wasn't surprised. He knew who Pete was. A psychotic mastermind, with heart of stone and pain tolerance impossible to lower. Hell, he let himself get captured and tortured by Vegas, just for fun.
"Drink up my friends. It's a very good wine, I brought it to you personally, all the way from Moravia. It would be an insult, not to have a sip." Pete swirled his glass around, looking at the ruby liquid in it. "You think we don't know it's poisoned?" Macau spat angrily. He was hurt and angry. He trusted Pete, as much as he trusted his own brother. "Don't be silly, there is no poison in the wine." Pete chuckled, and demonstrated his words by drinking his entire glass. Vegas felt his chest tighten. The man he loved, the man he fell asleep with every night, the man who's lips he kissed just a few hours ago, was a monster. He was the big fish. Vegas raised the glass, and drank the wine too, promptly followed by the rest of his family. Pete smirked. "But there was some pufferfish poison in two of the glasses."
Taken aback, the brothers looked at each other, before noticing their father's breathing growing erratic. Korn grasped his throat, coughing violently. Macau stared at Vegas, who stood up, his legs shaking. He slowly walked over to Pete, toppling over and falling to his knees just as he reached the armchair, touching Pete's knees. His face turned red, and his voice raspy, as he clung to Pete's legs, tears filling his eyes. "I love you...Pete..." Vegas coughed, droplets of blood staining Pete's trousers. The big fish clicked his tongue. "You're making me dirty Vegas. Again." "Pete..." Vegas cried out. His mouth and throat seemed to be on fire, feeling both numb and painful, the tightening sensation restricting his airways, cutting into the soft flesh of his tongue. "Take care...of Macau...I love...both..."
Pete watched with cold expression as Vegas's eyes rolled back and the grip of his hands loosened, until the hands finally let go and Vegas's body hit the floor. Pete glanced at Porsche, who quickly checked for pulse, and shook his head. "Pity. I kinda liked him a little." Pete raised an eyebrow before gesturing towards Macau. "Take care of your brother's body. Well then..." He stood up, patting Porsche on the shoulder. "I'll be in touch."
Casualties?
Just one. Love.