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Listen, it wasn’t that Porchay didn’t think he didn’t matter.
His brother, Kinn, even Khun always tried as hard as they could to make time for him. He knew they loved him.
He knew that if this was a perfect world Porsche would be able to pick him up from school instead of Big.
In a perfect world Kinn would be there to help him with his homework at night.
In a perfect world Khun wouldn’t be as easy to distract and lose track of when they were supposed to hang out.
Hell in a perfect world Porchay and Kim would still at least be on speaking terms, if not boyfriends.
And Porchay knows they love him. He knows how important he is to the people around him.
It’s just that, with the whole mafia business it was easy for Porchay to feel… forgotten.
Especially after last night.
Porchay had been looking forward to last night for ages.
How long had it been since him and Hia had gone to the movies?
With the whole security thing, and with his brother taking over the minor family; time with Porsche had been limited.
So, Porsche had promised to go see a movie with him that Friday.
So as soon as Porchay had gotten home from school he had gotten dressed and waited for his brother to come fetch him.
It had gotten late.
Really late.
So late that the sky was an endless sea of black, and still not even a message from his brother.
He had been concerned at first, asking Big (who always seemed to be conveniently where Porchay was for some reason) if there was something he had missed. At the bodyguard's apparent confusion Porchay had all but marched up to Kinn’s office, only to find Porsche and Kinn asleep on the side couch.
If Porchay was a better person, he would have been concerned at how tired his Hia looked.
If Porchay was a better person, he would have closed the door and left them to the rare moment to relax together.
Instead Porchay had thrown a fit.
It had been easy to see how guilty Porsche felt after Porchay began to yell, the way he hurriedly looked at the time on his phone and the fall on his face as he realized how late it was.
Porchay had ignored it, yelling that no one cared about him anymore. That Porsche had forgotten about him. That Porchay was the nasty baggage from his old life and Porchay would have been better off forgotten.
Porsche’s eyes had held so much guilt. So much hurt as he rushed to try and make things right, to try and fix the promise that had been broken.
Porchay, like the brat he was, had run back to his own room, partly out of hurt but mostly out of shame.
Porsche had followed him, had begged with a broken voice through the door for Porchay to understand, to forgive him, to let him in.
Porchay had ignored him.
Looking back, that had been a lot of things.
It had been hurt, yes. But at Porsche? Not really.
Kim had broken a lot of things in him that day outside the singer’s apartment.
His trust, his heart, and most importantly Porchay’s sense of security in his loved ones.
Porchay had never doubted Porsche’s love for him before Kim.
But Kim had lied so effortlessly. So easily.
Porchay had never doubted Kim's feelings for a second.
But it hadn’t been real. None of it had been real.
Kim had been playing the game, and Porchay had given him his heart on a silver platter.
If Kim could lie so easily, who was to say that others weren't?
Had Hia sometimes been secretly annoyed at Porchay? Had Kinn sometimes rolled his eyes behind Porchay’s back?
Had Khun avoided him on purpose sometimes?
Porchay had cried himself to sleep, wishing he knew how they felt when he wasn’t around.
Was it so wrong to want to be missed?
Sleep never lasted long enough in Porchay’s opinion.
He slept for an hour. Maybe two.
Then sleep released their hold on him and Porchay was awake for the day.
It was still dark.
Porchay was feeling pretty damn sorry for himself.
Okay and maybe, he had convinced himself that a midnight walk would do him some good.
And perhaps Porchay had waited for the guard outside his door to go on his nightly smoke break before getting his shoes on and making his way out of the building.
He knows the camera’s will catch his movement. He doesn't know the building well enough to avoid them.
He knows Porsche will scold him tomorrow for reckless thinking.
But sometimes Porchay just feels so suffocated .
The Theerapanyakun building is so tension filled it chokes away the air Porchay needs to feel well.
The guards he passes eye him suspiciously, but no one stops him as he leaves the building.
As soon as he’s outside, Porchay takes a long deep breath, relishing the fresh air of city life.
Porchay ends up making it to their old house.
It takes him a while on foot, almost a full hour.
But he misses home. He misses familiar sheets, and his own broken in bed.
Technically, he isn’t breaking any rules.
Porsche had him moved into the Theerapanyakun house for Porchay’s safety, yes, but Porsche had never said Porchay couldn’t go back.
He makes it inside using the spare key underneath his brother's wilted tomato plant.
Porsche had gone through a gardening phase for a bit when Porchay was in sophomore year of high school.
More often than not Porchay would end up watering the plant, because Porsche would be working double, sometimes even triple shifts.
He relates too much with the neglected plant.
Walking through the doors used to make Porchay feel so relieved. Now, it feels strange to return here after so long.
A worker had come by and cleared their fridge and cabinets of any food, but Porchay didn’t expect the house to look so clean .
It's strange.
The house doesn’t even look lived in.
Not anymore.
Porchay makes it upstairs with a sigh.
His bedroom, he knows, is clear of anything except for what Porchay had said could be left behind.
He all but collapses on his empty bed with another sigh.
And then he’s crying.
Full-on, gut-wrenching sobs that rip themselves from his chest with the force that makes Porchay gasp.
How had his life gotten to this point?
When did Porchay become so sad?
Because he is. So, so sad.
So sad it seems to obscure every other emotion.
He just cries, and cries, wishing for someone to just come hold him until he can breathe again.
Not just someone, Kim .
He wants Kim to hold him.
He wants Kim to miss him.
He wants to matter to Kim.
And it hurts so fucking badly that it’s the one thing Porchay will never have.
His phone, which Porchay hadn’t even realized he grabbed, is ringing in his pocket and he can’t even bring himself to answer it.
He curls into a ball, burying his face into the bare mattress.
Sleep calls to him, and Porchay walks into its warm embrace.
The early morning sun wakes him.
It shines through his curtain free window and directly into Porchay’s eyes.
He groans, flinging his hands across his eyes to block the light.
But it’s no use, sleep evades him when Porchay tries to fall back asleep.
He’s still tired. So incredibly tired, that he thinks not even a full twenty-four hours of sleep will help.
Sitting up, Porchay looks at his nearly empty room with bleary eyes.
A part of that is most certainly because of the many tears he had shed last night.
Rubbing at his eyes to get the worst of the sleep away, Porchay makes his way to the bathroom.
He’s relieved to find his bathroom still fully stocked.
He showers, brushes his teeth, and rakes an old comb through his messy hair.
He dresses on old sweats he finds in one of his dresser drawers, thankful that his least favorite pair of underwear is still there.
(It has a weird pattern but fits him and beggars can't be choosers.)
He’s hungry, but considering the house has no food and he left his wallet back at the Theerapanyakun building he’s kind of screwed.
He walks downstairs and sits on the dusty couch.
It’s quiet. It’s nice.
He forgot how it feels to just be alone with his thoughts.
Sure, his room is private enough at the main building, but with a bodyguard outside his door twenty-four seven it’s hard to feel alone.
He’s never truly alone nowadays.
He checks his phone, wincing at the number of missed calls and messages.
Most of them are from Porsche, starting from shortly after Porchay left the building and stopping around five Am.
Someone must have alerted him that Porchay had left the building.
He should feel guilty.
And he does, kind of.
But not guilty enough to text him back.
It’s selfish, he knows.
Porsche is probably freaking out right now, probably sending teams of men to look for him.
It’s that thought that has him reluctantly texting his brother back.
I’m fine. Don’t freak out. I’m not coming back for a while. I want to be alone.
Porchay puts his phone on silent after that, though it buzzes every few minutes signifying Porsche’s responses.
The rest of the calls are from an unknown number. No texts. Just calls.
Almost as many as Porsche left.
Porchay puts his phone in his pocket and just sits there for a while.
He gets restless eventually.
His legs itching to move, and he follows the urge until it takes him outside again.
He walks around their old neighborhood, waving at old neighbors and chatting with a few people he recognizes.
Not anything serious, just pleasantries before Porchay is on the move again.
It’s nice.
He walks for hours, delving deeper and deeper away from the main building.
It’s almost nightfall by the time Porchay turns around and makes it back to their old house.
He stops at the gate when he sees a familiar form sitting on his front porch.
They have their head in their hands, so Porchay can’t see their face, but he knows them.
He would know them anywhere.
He sighs, and the noise alerts the man.
The man’s head pops up to look at him, looking him up and down as if searching for an injury of some kind.
Porchay approaches, walking forward until he’s right in front of the man.
“What are you doing here?” Porchay asks.
“I could ask you the same thing.” Porsche answers, and he sounds tired.
Porchay sits next to his brother, and they sit in silence for a bit.
“I’m sorry.” Porchay murmurs, leaning his head against his brother’s shoulder.
Porsche lets out a low choked sigh, before wrapping his arm around Porchay’s shoulders.
“You stole my line kiddo.”
The air around them isn’t tense.
It’s just sad.
“How did you know where I was?” Porchay asks.
“Where else would you go?” Porsche evades the question and Porchay glares. Porsche winces.
“There’s a lot you can do with a phone number and the right connections.” Porsche eventually answers.
“You tracked my phone?” Porchay doesn’t know whether to be impressed or offended.
He hadn’t even realized Porsche could do that.
“Come on Chay, you know me better than that. You think I would let my brother go missing? Get real.”
“I wasn’t missing. I just went out for a walk.”
“Yeah, a walk that lasted eighteen hours. Excuse me for using every means necessary to make sure you were safe. Especially after my fuck up last night. I’m sorry for that.” Porsche doesn’t look at him while he talks, but Porchay just knows his brother is holding back tears. “I’ve really been fucking up lately huh?”
“You try your best Hia.” Porchay tries to reassure him.
“It’s not good enough. Especially if it leaves you feeling like I've forgotten you.” Porsche finally looks at him, and it hits Porchay right in the gut.
Porsche looks so upset. His eyes red with tears, his lip trembling and Porchay forgets sometimes that his Hia is human too.
That Porsche makes mistakes just like anyone else.
“I love you. Even when you fuck up.” Porchay whispers and Porsche just crumbles, wrapping his arms so tightly around Porchay that it hurts.
“I love you too Kid, please don’t ever forget that.” Porsche whispers through his sobs.
Those words hit something bruised inside Porchay, and suddenly he’s crying too.
It feels good. It hurts but it’s a good hurt.
For the first time in what feels like forever, he has his brother’s undivided attention. Porchay has needed this for so long.
“Hia,” Porchay cries and everything comes tumbling out.
How alone he feels. How sad he is. How Kim used him. How heartbroken Porchay is right now. How he feels like he’s losing himself more and more everyday.
Porsche just rubs his back with his warm comforting hand and tells him to let it all out.
It’s dark by the time they make it back to the compound. Hia drags him to the kitchens and Porchay gorges himself on whatever was left over from dinner.
He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he had food in front of him.
Hia sits down next to him, and they share the meal together for the first time in what feels like forever.
They talk, and laugh, and cry and it feels so good to not feel forgotten anymore.
Because how can he feel forgotten when Porsche keeps looking at him like he’s scared Porchay is going to disappear any minute.
How can he feel forgotten when Kinn comes in and looks at Porchay with so much concern and relief, before joining them at the table.
How can Porchay feel forgotten when Khun comes rushing in with a cry of his name before wrapping his arms so tightly around Porchay he almost suffocates on the fur coat the older is wearing, before demanding he never disappear for so long every again because who else is going to watch dramas with him if not Porchay?
And most of all how can Porchay feel forgotten when out of all people Kim joins them, eyes wide and chest heaving with panting breaths?
How can he feel forgotten when Kim pulls him from the table into his embrace and whispers apologies and promises to make things better, before claiming the spot next to him?
How can Porchay feel forgotten when he’s surrounded by his family?
The people he loves.
And the people that love him.