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Years passed, and 15 year old Boston found himself growing closer to his best friend, Ray. He couldn't deny that he had developed strong feelings for Ray, who had an incredible ability to spread love and affection to everyone around him. However, Boston often questioned whether he was being selfish for believing that Ray could ever reciprocate those feelings.
Despite their deep connection, Boston couldn't help but notice how Ray treated everyone with the same level of kindness and affection. Ray was a magnet for people, drawing them in with his open heart and infectious personality. Boston felt a pang of jealousy whenever he saw Ray being loving towards others, wondering if he was just another person in Ray's extensive circle of friends.
As Boston sat at the breakfast table with Ter, his loyal bodyguard, and his father engrossed in his cellphone, a wave of worry washed over him. He hadn't heard from Ray since the previous day, and a sense of insecurity crept into his thoughts. He knew Ray had been busy with an English paper, but Boston couldn't help but wonder if he was just being forgotten amidst Ray's hectic schedule.
The morning sun continued to shine, and the birds sang their cheerful melodies, creating a stark contrast to the uncertainty brewing within Boston. He mustered the courage to voice his concerns, breaking the silence that hung in the air, "Um, Ter... have you heard from Ray? I haven't been able to reach him, and I'm starting to worry."
His father glanced up briefly from his cellphone, a coldness in his eyes. "Why are you so concerned about that boy? You should focus on more important things, Boston," he sneered, his words dripping with disdain.
Boston's heart sank, accustomed to his father's emotional abuse. His relationship with his dad was strained, and his father resented the close bond Boston had with Ter. Unbeknownst to Boston, Ter already knew the devastating news that Ray had discovered his mother's lifeless body the day before. He had decided to wait until he and Boston were in the car to tell him, wanting to provide comfort and support face-to-face.
Ter shared a concerned glance with Boston, his eyes filled with compassion. "Boston, there's something I need to tell you... about Ray. We'll discuss it in the SUV, okay?" Ter's voice held a mix of sadness and reassurance, knowing that the news he was about to share would shatter Boston's world.
"Are you seriously going to tell him Mrs. Pakorn passed away this early in the day? Ter, regardless of how much Boston protests, you must take him to school. Reporters are swarming around their house, and I refuse to let us be implicated in any stories concerning our connection to that family. It's already problematic enough that Ray frequents our home," Boston's dad declared, devoid of any empathy, his unwavering gaze fixed on the bodyguard. He was determined not to let anyone question his decision on the matter.
The news his father had just disclosed hit Boston like a sledgehammer, leaving him on the verge of fainting. He stared at his dad in disbelief. "Of course, I'm going to see Ray. I couldn't care less about your precious image or school. Ray needs me."
"What Ray truly needed was for his father to divorce his alcoholic wife ages ago. Be grateful I divorced your mother. But for now, Boston, you will go to school, and that's final. What transpires within the Pakorn residence is none of our concern," Boston's dad rose to his feet, his eyes filled with contempt as he fixed his gaze on his only son. In his eyes, Boston was nothing more than a liability.
Ter swiftly stepped in between Boston and his father, his blood boiling with determination. He refused to let Boston's father inflict any further damage on the vulnerable teenager. Ter's unwavering loyalty to his ward drove him to go to great lengths, even if it meant deceiving his boss. "Boss, I will personally ensure that Boston safely reaches school," Ter asserted, placing a firm hand on Boston's shoulder, silently urging him to remain composed. "However, I've been in direct communication with Mr. Pakorn, and he has specifically requested Boston's assistance with his troubled son. Ray has barricaded himself away, and even his own father is unable to coax him out. I believe I can accompany Boston to offer support and then seamlessly guide him to school without causing any significant disruption."
"I will call Mr. Pakorn and offer a locksmith service. He doesn't need to employ both my bodyguard and my son. Ter, if Boston isn't at his school within 30 minutes, I will fire you. Do you understand?" Boston's dad pushed Ter in the chest, his face flushed with rage.
"I understand, Sir," Ter responded respectfully, his voice steady and calm. Without wasting any time, he gently pulled Boston, who was still in a state of shock, out of his seat and wrapped a protective arm around the teenager's shoulders. Guiding him towards the waiting SUV, Ter acted as a shield against the brewing storm of Boston's father's anger, ensuring the safety of his young charge.
Once inside the vehicle, with the door securely closed behind them, Boston was engulfed by the weight of the recent events. Tears streamed down his face as he turned to Ter, his grip tightening around his bodyguard's arm, his voice filled with desperation. "Ter, how am I supposed to go to school? What if Ray hurts himself? I can't bear the thought of not being there for him. Please, I have to see him."
Ter's gaze softened as he looked into Boston's tear-filled eyes, recognizing the depth of his anguish. He reached out, gently wiping away a tear from Boston's cheek, his voice filled with empathy. "I get it, Boston. You care about Ray, and that's commendable. But remember, you're not solely responsible for him. Put your trust in me."
Ter paused for a moment, allowing Boston's words to sink in. He continued, his voice laced with reassurance. "I will approach the school and Mr. Pakorn with the seriousness of the situation, making it clear that your presence and support are vital for Ray's stability. I know your friendship is incredibly important to Ray, and we'll find a solution that allows you to be there for him without sacrificing your own well-being. You're not alone, Boston. We'll face these challenges together."
Leaning against the window, Boston strained to catch every word of Ter's conversation with Mr. Pakorn and the school. Gratitude washed over him, knowing that he had Ter by his side to handle the intricate details. However, with each urgent tone that escaped Ter's lips after speaking to Mr. Pakorn about Ray's current state, Boston's anxiety intensified. A sinking feeling settled in his stomach as he wondered how much worse things could possibly become.
"Alright, the school understands the urgency of your assistance for Ray," Ter relayed, his voice a mix of determination and concern. "Mr. Pakorn is arranging for us to discreetly enter through the back to avoid the media frenzy. But... we truly need to reach Ray as soon as possible. It appears that he has locked himself inside his mother's liquor parlor, indulging in every last drop."
Ter's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white. A surge of guilt washed over him as he felt the weight of the pressure he was putting on Boston. Yet, deep down, he knew that Boston was the only one who could possibly break through the barriers and coax Ray into opening that door.
The urgency to assist Ray weighed heavily on Boston's shoulders. As each moment passed, his anxiety intensified, fueling his determination to reach Ray as quickly as possible. The thought of Ray being locked inside the liquor parlor, consuming alcohol in distress, sent a surge of worry through Boston's veins.
With a firm grip on the steering wheel, Ter accelerated, their car speeding towards Ray's location. Boston's mind raced, contemplating the best approach to help Ray. He knew that time was of the essence and that every second counted. How could he convince Ray to unlock the door? How could he break through the walls of despair that held Ray captive?
Ter glanced over at Boston, sensing his urgency and concern. A shared look of determination passed between them, silently affirming their commitment to helping Ray. Ter's voice broke through the silence, filled with reassurance and support. "We're almost there, Boston. Stay focused. We'll find a way to reach Ray and bring him the help he needs. You're doing everything you can, and I believe in your ability to make a difference."
They parked the sleek SUV discreetly at the secluded back entrance of the Pakorn Mansion. Boston's encounters with Ray's father had been rare, as the busy businessman was often engrossed in his own affairs. However, on this critical day, he stood waiting by the gate, his presence offering a faint comfort to Boston. Arm draped over Boston's shoulders, Ray's father led them into the opulent house, speaking in hushed tones.
Ray's father's voice cracked with desperation as he expressed his gratitude. "I can't thank you enough for being here. Yesterday, Ray learned about his mother's tragic fate, and in the midst of all the chaos, he locked himself in the parlor. I know how much he cares about you, Boston, and I'm putting all my hope in you. Please, try to coax him out of there."
Boston's gaze fixated on the imposing door to the parlor, its size almost intimidating. Taking a deep breath, he leaned against it, his voice projecting loudly in hopes that Ray would hear him. "Ray, it's Boston. I'm here. Please, let me in. And if that doesn't convince you, remember that Ter is here too. You know him, he can perform some super soldier-like feats to breach that door if need be."
As the words hung in the air, Boston's heart clenched with a mix of determination and concern. He knew that reaching Ray was of utmost importance, and he would employ any means necessary to guide his friend out of the darkness that trapped him inside the parlor.
Ray was in a bad state. He had already downed most of his mother's stash of liquor, and when he heard the knocks on the door, he could barely lift his head. Boston had shown up uninvited. Ray hadn't asked for anyone's help, and a wave of insecurity mixed with anger washed over him. Did Boston think he couldn't handle his own problems? Ray was determined to deal with this mess on his own.
Struggling to stand on unsteady legs, Ray clutched a half-empty wine bottle in one hand as he stumbled towards the door. His words slurred, he called out to the locked door, "Just go away. Doesn't Boston have better things to do? Like, school or something?"
The sound of Ray's body collapsing against the door reverberated through Boston's core, sending shockwaves of worry and urgency coursing through his veins. Without a moment's hesitation, Boston dropped down to the floor, his hand instinctively thrusting into the narrow gap between the door and the unforgiving marble floor. His fingers fumbled desperately, driven by an overwhelming need to make contact with Ray.
And in a desperate plea, Boston's trembling fingertips intertwined with Ray's, their connection becoming a lifeline amidst the suffocating darkness that threatened to consume them both. With a fierce determination etched in his voice, Boston poured every ounce of his being into his words, hoping against hope that they would penetrate the walls of Ray's pain-stricken heart.
"I won't leave you, Ray," Boston's voice quivered with unwavering resolve, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I can see how much you're hurting, and I can't bear to watch you suffer alone. Please, let me in. Let me share your burden, your grief. I won't rest until I see your face, until we face this darkness together, as friends, as brothers."
His voice cracked with desperation, Boston continued, "I know it feels like the world is crashing down around us, but we can't let it consume us. We have to fight, Ray. Fight for ourselves, for each other. Let me be your anchor, your guiding light in this storm. Together, we can find a way out of this darkness. Please, just let me in."
Gently, Ter placed a comforting hand on Boston's back, his touch an attempt to offer solace amidst the turmoil. Dealing with a heavily intoxicated teenager like Ray was no easy task, and Ter knew it. He leaned against the door, applying pressure to test its strength. Breaking through seemed unlikely, but Ter was determined to find a way.
The silence hung heavy in the air, time stretching out with each passing moment. Ter decided it was time to give Ray some motivation, to make him understand the gravity of the situation. His voice firm, yet tinged with a hint of sadness, Ter spoke his words with conviction.
"Ray, I won't allow Boston to go to school until we have you safe," Ter stated, his voice carrying a mix of concern and authority. "Listen to me, I don't want to resort to extreme measures, but if I have to, I can climb in through the window. Trust me, you won't enjoy the consequences if it comes to that. I may be an old man, but I won't hesitate to do whatever it takes to protect you."
Boston felt a sudden movement as Ray's fingers tightened around his own, a glimmer of hope that his friend was indeed awake and perhaps even a bit concerned about the looming threat of Ter entering through a window. Relief washed over Boston, his heart swelling with gratitude for this small gesture. He fought back tears, his voice trembling with emotion as he sought to reassure Ray of his unwavering support.
"Ray, you've been a constant presence in my life for as long as I can remember," Boston's voice quivered with sincerity. "There hasn't been a single day where you haven't been by my side. I refuse to let you face this pain alone.”
Ray's words slurred as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. "I'm not the one who is dead, you know," he mumbled, his voice heavy with the weight of his inner turmoil. The warmth of Boston's fingers, tightly interlocked with his own, only intensified his desperation. Ray's gaze fixated on their hands, a tangible reminder of Boston's presence, alive and real.
As much as Ray longed for his best friend's companionship, a profound sense of guilt gnawed at his heart. He couldn't escape the haunting memories of his mother's tragic demise, a result of the pain he believed he had inflicted upon her. Fear gripped him, fueling his doubts about the potential harm he might bring upon Boston. What if the burden of having Ray as a friend pushed him to suicide to escape him. He yearned for his friend to leave, to spare him from the darkness that seemed to follow wherever Ray went.
In his intoxicated state, Ray's head collided with the door, the impact registering as a resounding thump. The pain was numbed by his haze, leaving only a dull thumping sensation echoing in his head. He pondered the possibility of allowing Boston to enter, hoping that by doing so, he could engage in a metaphorical wrestling match, persuading him to leave for his own safety.
Taking a deep breath, Ray conceded, his voice laden with a mix of resignation and concern. "Okay, okay," he relented. "I'll open the door, but only Boston can come in."
Boston's heart pounded in his chest as he watched Ray's fingers slip away, a surge of urgency propelling him to leap to his feet. Yet, Ter was one step ahead, swiftly positioning his body against the door, ready to forcefully burst it open the moment Ray attempted to turn the handle. In an instant, the door gave way, causing Ray to stumble backward, his grip tight on the wine bottle.
Boston's heart raced as he rushed to his friend's side, his sole concern being Ray's safety. With a mix of worry and urgency, he reached out to gently take the wine bottle from Ray's trembling hand, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Hey, Ray, please... we're just trying to help you. Let me take that bottle, it's not safe for you right now."
Ray's face contorted with a mix of anger and pain, causing him to lash out in an outburst of emotions. He hurled the bottle at Boston, the shards scattering across the room, before accusing him of harboring pity and using his own difficult past against him. "Get away! You don't really want to help me. You've always pitied me. Just because your mom is alive doesn't make you better than me. She abandoned you, Boston!"
In a desperate attempt to protect his friend, Boston reached out towards Ray, disregarding the danger of the shattered bottle and flying glass. His concern for Ray's well-being outweighed any harm that may befall himself.
Ray vehemently rejected Boston's outstretched hand, vehemently refusing any form of support or comfort. In his anguish, he resorted to spitting at his friend and forcefully pushing him away, shouting at the top of his lungs, "Get away from me! I don't need you! You're only here because you've had a stupid crush on me since we were 8, but guess what?" Ray noticed his words were starting to have an impact on Boston, fueling his determination further. "You don't have to pretend to care about me because of some infatuation, Boston. Find someone else to follow like a lovesick puppy."
Ter, who had been watching from the sidelines, stepped in between Boston and Ray. The intoxicated teenager had caused enough emotional and physical damage to Boston. Ter firmly took Ray's hands and loosely handcuffed them, then swept the inebriated teen into his arms in a bridal style, disregarding Ray's slurred insults accusing Boston of having a crush on him and calling him a coward. Ter growled down at Ray in his arms, saying, "Don't make me tape your mouth shut." Thankfully, Ray recoiled at the threat. Ter then turned to Boston, who seemed frozen in shock at the accusations hurled at him. The weight of his unrequited feelings for Ray had paralyzed him. Ter recognized the need to snap Boston out of it. "Boston, snap out of it! Go tell Mr. Pakorn to unlock this room and bring some food for Ray. I'll take him to his room."
Boston sank to his knees, his mind in turmoil, torn between conflicting emotions. He felt a mix of love, fear, and self-doubt swirling inside him. The weight of Ray's accusations had hit him hard, leaving him questioning his own feelings and decisions. Was he wrong to keep his crush a secret? Should he have been more honest with Ray?
As tears welled up in his eyes, Boston grappled with his own insecurities. He wasn't sure if he was doing the right thing by standing by Ray's side. The uncertainty gnawed at him, causing his heart to ache. But deep down, he knew that his love for Ray outweighed any doubts he had about himself.
With a shaky breath, Boston summoned the strength to rise from his kneeling position. Despite his inner struggle, he was determined to be there for Ray, no matter what. He knew that his friend needed him now more than ever, and he couldn't let his own uncertainties hold him back.
Pushing aside his own doubts, Boston found the resolve to face Ray's father. His voice quivered as he spoke, betraying the inner conflict he was battling, "Mr. Pakorn, Ter took Ray to his room... Do you think we could get some rice porridge for him? He's still really messed up..." Boston's love for Ray propelled him forward, even when he questioned his own choices, reminding him that being there for his friend was the most important thing, regardless of his inner struggle.
Boston observed Mr. Pakorn barking orders at the staff, instructing them to clean up the parlor and ensure Ray couldn't cause any more trouble. His eyes widened as he noticed Mr. Pakorn grabbing a tray with a large water pitcher and a steaming bowl of porridge, accompanied by tempting bread. It seemed Ray's father was taking it upon himself to deliver the food. Boston's heart swelled with gratitude for the man's kindness.
As they climbed the stairs together, an unexpected moment occurred. Mr. Pakorn gently bumped Boston's shoulder, prompting the teenager to look at him. The older man's expression held a mixture of gratitude and anxiety.
"I want you to know, Boston, how grateful I am to you for getting him out of that room," Mr. Pakorn spoke with sincerity, his words carrying a weight that touched Boston's heart. "He's all I have left, and he's always spoken so highly of you. You mean a lot to him. So... thank you."
Boston felt a lump forming in his throat, his own gratitude and emotions welling up inside him. It was a validating moment, knowing that Ray's father acknowledged the importance of their friendship. It fueled Boston's determination to continue being there for Ray, to support him through his struggles, despite his own uncertainties.
Boston nodded, his gratitude evident in his eyes. "Thank you, Mr. Pakorn. Ray means a lot to me too, and I'll always be there for him."
As he pushed open the door to Ray's room, Boston's heart skipped a beat. Relief washed over him as he saw Ter successfully tending to Ray's wounds and helping him change into clean clothes. The sight of the cuts on Ray's body made Boston wince, realizing that he, too, had sustained similar injuries during the chaotic situation. The adrenaline coursing through his veins had masked the pain, but now it made itself known.
Mr. Pakorn placed the tray of food on the nightstand and gestured for Boston to join Ray. Boston hesitated for a moment, his fear of Ray's potential aggression lingering. However, his concern for his friend outweighed his own apprehensions. Taking a deep breath, he approached Ray slowly, keeping a safe distance.
"Hey, Ray," Boston spoke softly, his voice laced with both caution and genuine care. "It's me, Boston. I'm here for you, buddy. Ter did a great job taking care of you. How are you feeling?"
Ray's gaze met Boston's, his eyes reflecting a mix of confusion and vulnerability. "I... I messed up, didn't I?" he mumbled, his voice laced with regret.
Boston's heart ached at the sight of his friend's turmoil. He slowly moved closer, taking a seat by Ray's side. "We all make mistakes, Ray. What matters is that you're safe now. We're here to support you, no matter what."
Ray's eyes welled up with tears, his voice trembling. "I'm sorry, Boston. I don't deserve your friendship."
Boston's heart ached as he wrapped his arm around Ray, feeling the tremors coursing through the other boy's body. The sight broke Boston's heart, but he knew he had to remain strong for both of them. Despite the weight of the situation, he tried to maintain a light tone in his voice as he spoke.
"Ray, it's not your place to decide who I choose to be friends with or who I give my heart to. That is a personal matter, and it's none of your business," Boston asserted, his determination shining through.
With a gentle gesture, Boston used his free hand to pluck a piece of fresh baked bread from the tray. The warm, inviting aroma filled the air, providing a comforting presence amidst the chaos. He extended the bread towards Ray, offering it as a symbol of solace and support.
"Here, take this," Boston urged, a glimmer of kindness in his eyes. "Eat it, let it nourish you. As for me, I have a feeling Ter is about to patch me up, and the thought alone is enough to quell my appetite."
Ter and Ray's father had been engaged in a hushed conversation, but the mention of Ter's name caught his attention, causing him to break away. With a concerned expression etched on his face, he approached Boston and inspected his injured legs.
"You've taken quite a beating, kid. Are you sure you don't want to wait for the hospital? It might save you from unnecessary scarring," Ter suggested, his voice laced with worry.
Boston shook his head, a resolute expression on his face. He held unwavering faith in Ter, who had always been there to patch him up in times of need. "I trust you with my life. You've been my go-to makeshift nurse countless times before. I can handle it," Boston reassured, emphasizing his unwavering confidence in Ter's medical expertise.
Ray's dad approached the bed, holding the tray of porridge, his face filled with concern. Without saying a word, he offered the food to Ray, hoping that it would bring some comfort to his distressed son.
But Ray's thoughts were consumed by guilt and regret. He hadn't realized the extent of the damage he had caused to Boston with the wine bottle he had thrown in a fit of anger. As he looked down at Ter tending to Boston's injuries, a wave of nausea washed over him. How could he have hurt his best friend like this? The weight of his actions crashed down on him, threatening to overwhelm him.
Unable to bear it any longer, Ray sat up, his trembling hand reaching out to touch Boston's chest, checking for bruises. The pain on Boston's face confirmed what Ray already knew - he had caused this harm. The realization sent Ray's mind spiraling, his thoughts echoing with the memories of his mother, the way he had driven her to drink herself to death. The guilt and self-hatred threatened to suffocate him, and in a panic, he uttered the words that tore at his heart.
"Boston... you have to leave," Ray managed to choke out between gasps for air.
But as the words hung in the air, Ray's eyes met Boston's, and he saw something he didn't expect - understanding and compassion. Boston's voice was filled with a calm determination as he reached out to take Ray's shaking hand.
"No, Ray," Boston said firmly, his voice unwavering. "I won't abandon you, not now, not ever."
Boston leaned into Ray hiding his face as Ter continued to stitch him up. It was incredibly painful but he didn’t want Ray to leave. He gripped onto Ray’s hand tightly. Boston’s voice came out strained but he had to reassure his friend. “The only place I need to be is with you Ray.” Boston let out a tiny whimper this was a lot all at once but he trusted Ter and Ray. “Now don’t look at my leg. Your dad has made you porridge and it smells great, have some for me please.”
Ray could feel Boston's breath against his shoulder, a steady rhythm that reminded him they were in this together. He took strength from Boston's words, knowing that his friend's unwavering trust meant everything. Boston's reassurance that the only place he needed to be was with Ray filled him with a sense of warmth and purpose.
As Ray reluctantly turned his gaze away from the sight of Boston's injuries, he focused on the task at hand. With trembling hands, he accepted the spoon from his dad and brought it to his lips, taking a small bite of the porridge. The taste was comforting, reminding him of his dad's care and the love that surrounded him.
Every whimper that escaped Boston's lips only heightened Ray's determination to be there for him. He understood that Boston needed him, not just physically, but emotionally as well.
Ter's presence provided an additional layer of reassurance. Ray looked to him for guidance, trusting in his expertise and knowing that he would do everything possible to heal Boston's wounds. Ter's calm and steady hands stitching up Boston's leg were a tangible reminder that they were in capable hands.
In that moment, Ray felt a glimmer of hope. Despite the consequences of his actions and the pain they had caused, he realized that trust and reassurance could serve as a foundation for healing. With Boston's trust and Ter's expertise, Ray knew they would navigate through the challenges ahead, together.
"Okay, Boston, I'm going to let you take a break for a second. I can feel my phone going off," Ter's voice was filled with concern as he stood up and temporarily left the room to answer the call. "Don't move around too much. I still think we should consider taking you to the hospital," he added, his worry evident on his face.
Boston slowly pulled away from Ray's shoulder, discreetly wiping away the tears that had welled up. He felt a sense of relief when he saw that, thanks to Ray's dad, a good portion of the porridge was gone. Gently rubbing Ray's back, he cooed to him softly, trying to provide comfort amidst their pain.
Unable to contain his emotions any longer, Boston spoke up, his voice filled with sincerity. "I can't help but notice that you kept saying things are your fault today... But I have a completely different opinion, just so you know, you shit for brains."
His words were laced with a mix of affection and exasperation, a testament to their deep bond and the trust they shared. Boston wanted Ray to understand that he didn't hold him responsible for the current situation they found themselves in. Instead, he saw Ray as a beloved friend who had been there for him through thick and thin, someone who deserved compassion rather than blame.
Ray's utmost priority was to spare Boston from any further harm. The longing to embrace his best friend, reminiscent of their countless sleepovers, tugged at Ray's heart. However, his concern for Boston's well-being overshadowed his own desires. "Boston, I can't help but blame myself," Ray admitted, his voice laced with remorse. "I made a terrible mistake when I got drunk and threw that bottle at you. And to make matters worse, I landed a punch right in your chest. The last thing I want is to cause you more pain. I never meant to hurt you, not even for a second."
As Ray's gaze shifted to Boston's legs, he noticed that only two of the five cuts had been treated by Ter. The mere thought of Boston enduring any additional suffering sent a wave of dread through Ray. "Please, Boston, let's go to the hospital. Ter can take care of the remaining cuts, but my main concern is your comfort and minimizing any unnecessary pain. Your well-being means everything to me."
Ray's voice trembled with genuine concern as he implored his friend to prioritize his own recovery. If only he could turn back time and undo the damage caused, but for now, his focus was solely on supporting Boston and ensuring his safe and complete healing.
Boston was on the verge of protesting, not wanting to leave Ray alone in his state of grief and intoxication, when Ter entered the room. The expression on Ter's face sent a surge of anxiety through Boston, causing his blood pressure to pound in his ears. The only other time he had seen Ter wear such a look was when someone foolishly attempted to separate Boston from his father at a press event without permission. Boston instinctively shrank against Ray, fearing the worst as Ter began to speak.
"I'm sorry, but we have to go home now, Boston," Ter said, his voice filled with urgency. "I have arranged for a doctor to meet us there and provide medication to alleviate your pain." Ter swiftly moved towards the bed, hastily wrapping the remaining wounds for the time being.
"I can't leave Ray!" Boston pleaded, tears brimming in his eyes.
"He's out of danger now, kid. We need to get you home," Ter reassured, though he didn't disclose the full truth that Boston's father was threatening to send guards to retrieve Boston and charge Ter with kidnapping.
Boston's heart raced with fear as Ter's words sank in. The thought of leaving Ray behind, vulnerable and in pain, felt unbearable. Tears welled up in Boston's eyes as he pleaded, desperation evident in his voice.
"But I can't leave him!" Boston's voice trembled. "He needs me, Ter. I can't just abandon him like this, especially when he's in such a fragile state. Please, there must be another way."
Ter's expression softened, understanding the depth of Boston's concern. He placed a hand on Boston's shoulder, trying to offer reassurance amidst the chaos.
"I know it's difficult, Boston. But we have to prioritize your safety and well-being too," Ter explained gently. "Ray has his dad who can take care of him, and I promise we'll find a way to support him while ensuring your own safety. It won't be easy, but we can't risk your father's threats becoming a reality. We'll figure this out together."
Boston's fear mingled with a glimmer of hope as he realized that Ter was committed to finding a solution that would protect them both. Though torn between his loyalty to Ray and the need to escape potential danger, Boston understood the importance of his own security. With a deep breath, he nodded, trusting Ter's judgment and resolve to navigate the challenging situation ahead.
Ray's mind was still muddled from the effects of alcohol, but he managed to grasp the gravity of the situation. Despite his own struggles, he wanted Boston to receive the help he needed. Leaning forward, Ray planted a sloppy, tear-stained kiss on Boston's cheek, leaving wet marks on his sharp features. "I'll be fine. I'm more concerned about you. My father is here," Ray mumbled, pushing at Boston's arm, urging him to leave.
Boston was taken aback by the unexpected kiss, too stunned to react as Ter swiftly lifted him onto his back. Ter exchanged a brief wave with Mr. Pakorn before turning to Ray, his expression carrying a sense of finality. "I meant what I said to you all those years ago. You deserve happiness, Ray. Take care of yourself and recover well," Ter said, his words hanging in the air. Boston was even more bewildered by this revelation, realizing that something must be terribly wrong at home for Ter to act so urgently. With lightning speed, Ter secured Boston in his seat before speeding away from the mansion. Boston finally found his voice amidst the confusion. "What... what's happening? Are you alright, Ter?"
Fear swelled in Boston's chest as their eyes remained fixed on the road ahead. Ter's gaze, filled with intensity, hinted at the possibility of tears. In a moment of vulnerability, Ter's hand left the steering wheel and tightly grasped Boston's arm. His voice, deadly serious, cut through the tension, revealing a truth that sent shivers down Boston's spine.
Ter's words echoed in the car, each syllable laden with the weight of their actions. He expressed unwavering conviction that their decision to help Ray was the right one, emphasizing the potential dire consequences if Boston hadn't been there. The recent loss of Ray's mother to alcohol poisoning added a haunting layer of urgency to their mission.
In a gesture of immense responsibility, Ter declared that he would bear the full weight of their choices, taking ownership of the decision to bring Boston to the Pakorn's residence. The gravity of Ter's words shattered Boston's world for the second time that day. It felt like everything was crumbling around them, leaving Boston in a state of disbelief.
The morning's confrontation between Ter and Boston's father resurfaced in Boston's mind, intensifying their anguish. Their father's threat of job loss if Boston didn't attend school added another layer of complexity to the situation. The pain from their recent injuries and wounds paled in comparison to the heartache of the possibility of being abandoned. The words trembled on Boston's lips, choked by emotions as they pleaded desperately, "You can't leave me, Ter."
The air in the car grew heavy with unspoken fears and the weight of uncharted territory. In that moment, Boston's vulnerability and need for support were laid bare, their plea hanging in the air as they awaited Ter's response, desperately hoping for a lifeline to hold onto amidst the storm.
“I made that decision this morning, Boston. I have always operated with honesty and integrity. You'll be taken care of, and that's all that matters. There is no one more important to me than you," Ter said, removing his hand from Boston's arm and refocusing his eyes on the road. Ter wasn't driving at his normal breakneck speed, wanting to cherish these last moments with the kid who had been his world for the past 15 years. Despite all his grumbling, Ter had grown to love the sobbing, privileged teen in the passenger seat.
"If that was true, you should have dropped me off at school, knowing I'd go there on my own. How can I lose you, Ter? Especially now, I don't know if I'll ever truly have Ray back. He’s so fragile. I can’t help him on my own. My Dad won’t let me see him, you know that," Boston sobbed, his voice ripping apart as he yelled out his frustration. Ter was his father figure, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing him, especially when Boston knew he'd need Ter's advice sooner rather than later.
Boston's sobs filled the car, their anguish echoing through the silence. Ter's heart ached as he listened to their pain, knowing that his presence would soon be absent from their life. He had become a father figure to Boston, someone they relied on for guidance and support. The thought of leaving them when they needed him the most tore at his soul.
Ter's grip tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. "Losing me, Boston, it's not easy for either of us," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "But sometimes, we have to make sacrifices for the ones we love. And I believe that what I'm doing, as hard as it is, is for your own good."
Silence settled between them, the weight of the truth hanging heavy in the air. Ter knew that his decision to leave Boston and never see them again would be one of the toughest he had ever made. But deep within his core, he held steadfast to the belief that it was the right thing to do.
As the car pressed on, Ter's resolve remained unshaken. He knew that the road ahead would be difficult for both of them, but he believed in Boston's strength and resilience.
As the miles passed by, Ter's heart grew heavier with each passing moment. The reality of what he had to do weighed on his shoulders, threatening to crush him. He stole glances at Boston, his tear-streaked face etched into his memory. The bond they had formed over the years was unbreakable, but now, circumstances demanded their separation.
Ter's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the painful conversation that lay ahead. He knew that he had to explain his decision to Boston, to offer them some semblance of understanding and comfort amidst the impending separation.
Pulling over to a secluded spot, Ter turned off the engine and faced Boston, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "Boston I don’t want to do this talk but… I don’t know when we will get another chance," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. Boston's eyes widened, their expression a mix of confusion and desperation.
Ter's face contorted into a scowl, his brows furrowing in an attempt to appear surly. He clenched his jaw, trying to hide the emotions that threatened to betray him. But as he looked at Boston, his heart softened, and a warm affectionate smile flickered across his face, exposing his true feelings.
"Alright, kid," Ter grumbled, trying to sound gruff. "I'm outta here, and I don't wanna hear any whining or complaining. You're gonna be just fine without me."
Boston's eyes widened, their mouth slightly agape, clearly taken aback by Ter's failed attempt at being surly. They could see right through the facade, sensing the love and care that Ter couldn't conceal.
"Ter, you don't have to pretend," Boston said, their voice filled with a mixture of amusement and affection. "I know you care about me, even if you're trying to act tough."
Ter's tough exterior crumbled, a genuine smile breaking through. He sighed, unable to hide his true feelings any longer. "You got me, kid. I can't hide it. I love you like a son. Hell, I changed your diapers. I told you to get your ass to sleep every night since you entered this world. Leaving you behind, it's tearing me apart."
Boston reached out, their hand resting gently on Ter's arm. "I feel the same way, Ter. You've been like a father to me, guiding me, supporting me. I'm going to miss you so much."
Ter's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he squeezed Boston's hand, his voice laced with emotion. "I'll miss you too, Boston. But sometimes, we have to make difficult choices for the ones we care about. I believe this is the right decision, even if it hurts."
Boston nodded, their voice filled with understanding. "I trust you, Ter. I know you wouldn't leave unless you truly believed it was for the best. Just promise me that you'll always be a part of my life, even if we can't be together physically."
Ter nodded, a sense of relief washing over him. "I promise, Boston. No matter where I am, I'll be watching over you. You'll always have a special place in my heart."
As they embraced one last time, Ter couldn't help but feel a mixture of sadness and gratitude. Their bond transcended physical proximity, and he knew that their connection would endure, even in his absence. With a heavy heart, Ter turned away, tears streaming down his face for the first time in years, and began the short drive to Boston’s home.
Upon arriving at the imposing house and pulling into the driveway, Ter immediately spotted Boston's father seated in front of the grand entrance, flanked by all four of his employed bodyguards. Determination surged through Ter as he turned off the car, his sole focus on safeguarding Boston. There was no time for tears or regrets now; it was time to act.
"Boston, I understand your legs are injured, but we need to get inside as swiftly as possible," Ter urged, his voice firm and resolute. "Dr. Ten has already gone up to your room with supplies. I'll handle everything down here."
Exiting the vehicle, Ter confidently tossed the keys to one of the other bodyguards, signifying that he wouldn't require them any longer. Standing tall, he fixed his gaze unashamedly on Boston's father. "Sir."
Boston defiantly stood by Ter's side, a symbol of unwavering support. They were determined not to let Ter face this daunting situation alone, disregarding their previous promise made in the car. "Dad, I insisted that Ter accompany me. It was my decision."
"Shut up boy, the grownups are talking." Boston's father spat, his anger and resentment simmering beneath the surface. The deep-seated envy he held towards the close bond between Ter and his son fueled his furious outburst. His face flushed crimson with rage as he unleashed his pent-up emotions on his loyal bodyguard. "Consider yourself terminated! Who do you think you are, taking my son to the Pakorn residence today? I've already seen the reports. Those vulturous journalists are eagerly devouring every detail of that woman's death, and your decision to involve my son has only added fuel to their insatiable hunger. Do you have any inkling of the consequences? How dare you yank him out of school! I can't even bear to look at you, Ter, after sixteen years of unwavering loyalty. You've betrayed me, all for the sake of a whining teenager. This is utterly unacceptable."
Despite the seething anger and resentment emanating from Boston's father, Ter refused to let it break his resolve. With his head held high, he maintained his composure, knowing that Boston was itching to defend him. This was a consequence he was willing to face.
"I accept my termination, sir," Ter stated firmly, his voice unwavering. "I firmly believe that taking Boston to the Pakorn's Residence was the right decision, and I would make it again without hesitation. If that's all, Boston sustained some injuries and requires immediate medical attention. Could someone please escort him to his rooms? I have already arranged for Dr. Ten to attend to his injuries."
Boston growled, frustration etched on his face as he looked up at Ter. He couldn't fathom why Ter wanted to focus on him in this moment. Taking a step forward, he positioned himself between Ter and his father, asserting his stance. "I do not accept your decision to fire Ter or his resignation. He is my bodyguard, and he was protecting me. Even if Ter had dropped me off at school, I would have found a way to be by Ray's side. Without Ter, I would have sustained far worse injuries than what I currently have. I can assure you of that."
"I don't give a damn!" Boston's father seethed, spitting in Boston's face as his anger surged through his veins. He violently pushed the teen out of his way, causing him to collapse to the ground, a genuine whimper of pain escaping his lips due to his already injured legs. With a forceful shove, Boston's father sent Ter hurtling into the gravel driveway, spewing saliva at him as he unleashed his fury.
"You've poisoned my son's mind against me, Ter! I should have you arrested. Getting fired is the least you deserve. I never want to lay eyes on your pathetic face again, Ter. You better act as if I've committed murder right in front of you."
The atmosphere thickened with hostility as the words hung in the air. Ter, though battered and disheveled, refused to let fear consume him. He took a moment to regain his composure, his eyes fixed on Boston's father with an unwavering determination.
"Sir, I understand your anger," Ter responded, his voice steady despite the chaos surrounding them. If this play nice scheme didn’t work out Ter had one hand on his concealed gun. He wasn’t going to let Boston endure anymore injuries today. Ter spoke in his customer service voice but his eyes never left the now sobbing teen. "But please, let's focus on Boston's well-being. He needs medical attention, and I can assure you that his safety has been my utmost priority throughout this ordeal. Let us address our differences later, but for now, let's prioritize his health."
A tense silence fell over the scene as Boston's father grappled with his emotions. The weight of his actions and the concern for his son began to weigh heavily on him. Slowly, his features softened, and he reluctantly nodded, begrudgingly acknowledging the validity of Ter's words.
"Fine," he conceded, his voice laced with a mix of resignation and regret. "Attend to Boston's injuries. But make no mistake, Ter, this doesn't absolve you of what you've done. We will have a serious discussion about this at a later time."
Ter nodded, grateful for the temporary reprieve. "Thank you, sir. I will ensure Boston receives the necessary medical attention. We can address our differences once he is taken care of."
With that, Ter shifted his attention to Boston, offering a reassuring smile amidst the chaos, silently vowing to protect him, both physically and emotionally, no matter the cost.
Through tear-filled eyes, Boston experienced a torrent of pain, both physical and emotional, as Ter gently lifted him from the ground. Like earlier with Ray, Ter effortlessly held Boston in his arms, as if he weighed nothing, providing warmth and comfort. Seeking solace, Boston buried his face in Ter's chest, allowing his tears to flow freely as they made their way to his room. Each step felt like a crushing weight on his chest, exacerbated by the impending departure of Ter and the angry breaths of his father lingering nearby.
Upon reaching Boston's room, Ter carefully settled him down, turning to the bespectacled doctor who patiently awaited their arrival, armed with necessary medical equipment. Remaining composed and professional, Ter quickly briefed the doctor on the situation, while Boston's father watched in sullen silence.
"Doctor, Boston has sustained five cuts on his legs from a shattered wine bottle that require stitches. I managed to stitch up two of them, but they would benefit from a professional touch. Additionally, he has bruising on his chest, potentially straining his ribs. He had a recent fall, and I'm concerned that it may have exacerbated his condition."
As Ter relayed the information, a mixture of concern and frustration filled the room. The doctor nodded, acknowledging the severity of Boston's injuries.
"Thank you, Ter. I will take over from here," the doctor responded calmly, his voice filled with reassurance. "Please make sure Boston is comfortable and let him know that we will do everything we can to ease his pain and facilitate his recovery."
Ter nodded in understanding, his gaze shifting towards Boston, silently conveying his unwavering support and dedication. Boston's father, though still seething with anger, begrudgingly acknowledged the importance of prioritizing his son's well-being.
"Do what you need to do," Boston’s father grumbled, his voice tinged with a hint of concern amidst his lingering resentment.
With that, Ter lingered for a moment longer, offering Boston a comforting smile before reluctantly exiting the room with Boston’s father, leaving Boston in the capable hands of the doctor. As the door closed, Boston felt a mixture of relief and trepidation, knowing that the physical wounds would soon be treated, but uncertain of what lay ahead for his fractured family.
Despite the doctor's attempts to lighten the mood with jokes about Boston looking like Dr. Ten’s bestie, Boston found it difficult to focus. The overwhelming pain persisted, even with the numbing effects of the medication administered by Dr. Ten. Ray's safety remained uncertain, and now, Ter was no longer by Boston's side. A sense of resentment crept into Boston's thoughts; if only Ray had sought comfort from Boston instead of drowning himself in intoxication, they wouldn't be in this situation. Boston wouldn't be dealing with stitches on his legs, and Ter wouldn't have left. As tears streamed down Boston's face, he could almost hear Ter's rational voice echoing in his ear like a guiding angel, reminding him, "You can't judge your friend for what he's going through. We did the right thing, kid." Boston's sobs grew weaker as he clung to the hope that somehow, everything would eventually be alright.
Eventually, Boston's father re-entered the room accompanied by a bodyguard, inquiring about Boston's injuries and the necessary care. However, the display of empathy was sorely lacking from his father.
Despite Boston's pain and vulnerability, he reached out to grab his father's hand, desperately seeking some form of comfort and reassurance. His voice trembled as he asked, "You didn't fire Ter, did you?"
His father's response was callous and devoid of compassion. With a dismissive tone, he replied, "Yes, I did. Don't be a baby, Boston. You're too old for a babysitter anyway." He shook off Boston's hand with disdain, further exacerbating the sense of rejection and abandonment.
The absence of understanding and empathy from Boston's father cut deep. It was a painful reminder of the emotional disconnect between them, leaving Boston feeling unsupported and unloved in his time of need. The wounds inflicted by his father's words and actions were far more profound than the physical injuries he was enduring.
——————————-
Boston tried his best to maintain some semblance of normalcy in his life. He attended school, but noticed the absence of Ray each day. After school, he would be picked up by a random bodyguard who consistently denied his requests to visit Ray. When he returned home, he would stare at his mother's plants, longing for the comfort and routine of Ter telling him it was time for bed. However, with the changing of the guard, Ter never came, leaving Boston to tuck himself in. He would attempt to text Ray about school, only to be met with a read message but no response.
One rainy morning, Ray finally returned to the classroom. Boston couldn't help but notice the visible weight loss and the ghostly presence that now sat next to him. Hurt and confused, Boston opened his mouth to say something, but Ray stopped him.
"Let's just have a normal day, Boston," Ray said, pulling out his notebook and resting his head on the desk. It was clear that Ray didn't want to hear Boston's words or receive any pity. He simply wanted to pretend that everything was normal, even if it wasn't.
Boston nodded, his heart heavy with unspoken words. He understood that Ray sought to avoid delving into their shared struggles, preferring to shield himself from the pain and vulnerability they brought. It seemed that Ray needed this facade of normalcy as a temporary respite, a way to momentarily escape the harsh realities they both faced.
Respecting Ray's desire for a semblance of normality, Boston mustered a smile and retrieved his notebook, determined to play along. Throughout the day, they went through the motions of attending classes, engaging in discussions, stealing fleeting glances at one another, and pretending to be absorbed in their studies. Yet, beneath the surface, Boston couldn't ignore the weight of their unexpressed emotions. The growing distance between them felt tangible, an ever-widening chasm that seemed increasingly difficult to bridge
After a week of unsettling silence between them, Ray finally noticed the absence of Ter picking Boston up from school. Vague memories from the day of their altercation resurfaced in Ray's mind, fragmented images of his drunken state and the wine bottle he had thrown. Amidst the haze, he recalled telling Boston that he shouldn't have feelings for him, followed by a kiss on the cheek. Now, those words seemed even more painful and true, as Ray felt like a useless burden occupying a seat at school. But in his fragmented memories, Ter had been there, carrying him upstairs. So where was he now?
"Boston, how have you been getting home?" Ray asked, his voice laced with genuine concern.
Boston tried to smile, not wanting to pressure Ray into thinking about anything painful. "I've been getting picked up the same way I always do. My dad sends his guy to pick me up. But I can't wait until I can drive myself. I'm planning to get a vintage car, and I've already picked one out. Do you want to see?"
Ray nodded, grateful for the change of topic. He watched as Boston pulled out his phone to show him pictures of the vintage car he had been eyeing. As Boston excitedly shared his plans, Ray couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. He wished he had someone to rely on, someone who cared enough to send a driver for him. The loneliness and weight of his struggles had become unbearable, and he longed for someone to support him the way Boston had before everything fell apart.
Ray stopped Boston by holding up a hand during his spiel about the car Boston wanted to fix up. He could feel his sorrow bubbling just below the surface, and Ray didn't want to break down in the classroom. "Can we talk at your place?" he asked, his voice filled with vulnerability.
Boston didn't hesitate, immediately nodding and placing a comforting hand on Ray's back. They made their way to Boston's SUV, where Joss was waiting to pick him up. The drive to Boston's home was filled with silence, but the presence of a friend by his side provided a sense of comfort for Ray.
Upon arriving at Boston's house, Boston led Ray to the back of the house, where his mom's rooms used to be. In the weeks since Ter had left, Boston had converted the space into his own apartment, complete with a kitchen, bathroom, bedroom, and storage room. Boston sat on the couch, leaving a space for Ray to join him, and patiently waited for the other boy to open up. They sat close but not quite touching, allowing each other the space and comfort they needed.
As they rode towards Boston's home, an intense curiosity burned within Ray. He had always seen Ter as the one who took care of Boston, never witnessing him being entrusted to anyone else. Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Ray blurted out, "Is Ter okay? We should get him something, Boston. He was there for me, even though my memories are hazy. I remember him being with you."
Before Boston could respond, Joss, the driver, interjected, revealing the truth that Boston had been keeping from Ray for weeks. "Ter is no longer working for the Boss. It's been that way for weeks now."
Ray's heart sank at the news of Ter's departure. The absence of Ter, the person who had been a pillar of support for both Boston and Ray, felt like a sudden void in their lives. Confusion and concern washed over Ray as he tried to make sense of the situation. He couldn't fathom why Ter, who had taken care of him in his time of need, was no longer part of their lives.
Boston, his expression filled with a mix of sadness and guilt, finally spoke up. "I didn't want to worry you, Ray. Ter and my dad had a falling out, and he's no longer employed by our family. It's been tough for both of us. I miss him too."
Ray's heart sank even further upon hearing of Ter's departure, his sadness multiplying with the weight of recent events. Just a few weeks ago, Ray had lost his mother, and the grief still consumed him. Overwhelmed by his own pain, he had purposefully distanced himself from Boston, fearing that he would only bring his friend down with his sorrow.
But now, as Ray learned about Ter's absence and realized how much he meant to Boston, a wave of guilt washed over him. He knew deep down that he should have been there for his friend, especially when they were both grappling with their own pain. The thought of Boston facing this loss alone, while Ray had distanced himself out of fear, weighed heavily on his conscience.
Tears welled up in Ray's eyes as he turned to Boston, his voice filled with remorse. "I'm so sorry, Boston. I've been avoiding you because I didn't want to burden you with my own pain. But I should have been there for you, especially after everything you've done for me. Losing Ter must be so difficult for you, and I can't even imagine how you're feeling."
Boston's eyes softened with understanding, and he reached out to grasp Ray's hand in a comforting gesture. "Ray, we're in this together. We both have our own struggles, but that doesn't mean we can't lean on each other. We need each other now more than ever."
With those words, a sense of relief washed over Ray. The guilt still lingered, but he knew that he and Boston would face their pain and challenges side by side. In their companionship, they would find strength and solace, healing their wounds together.
—
As they finally reached Boston's home, the sound of his dad's call echoed through the air, but Boston chose to ignore it, his hand holding onto Ray's tightly. Fearful of losing his best friend again, Boston led Ray into the living room, closing the door with a satisfying clang, shutting out the rest of the world.
They both sat down on the couch, their knees almost touching, the weight of their pain hanging heavily between them. The room fell into a tense silence, their teenage vulnerability palpable. Ray's voice trembled slightly as he spoke, his words laced with a mix of fear and longing.
"Just... being here with you means a lot to me, Ray," Boston admitted, his voice cracking. "I've missed you so much, and I've been carrying this pain alone. I knew you were going through so much worse but I was powerless. But having you here, despite everything you're going through, it... it gives me hope, you know?"
Ray met Boston's gaze, his own eyes reflecting a mixture of apprehension and affection. He understood the underlying fear they both shared, afraid that their troubles would push the other away. Ray's voice wavered with vulnerability as he responded, his words filled with a hesitant yet genuine sincerity.
"I'm sorry, Boston. I've been so scared of burdening you with my own pain that I pushed you away when I needed you the most," Ray confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I want you to know that you mean everything to me, and I'm here for you. We can face our fears and sadness together."
A flicker of relief danced across Boston's face, his own voice filled with a mix of gratitude and uneasiness. "I'm scared too, Ray. Scared of losing you, of losing this connection we have. But right now, having you by my side, it gives me strength. We'll take it one step at a time, okay?"
Their shared vulnerability forged an unbreakable bond in that moment, transcending the challenges they faced. They were just two scared teenagers, but in their mutual understanding, they found the courage to confront their pain. Together, they would navigate the turbulent waters of grief, supporting each other, and never letting their fears drive them apart.