Chapter Text
Walking up the steps to be greeted by the bachelorette, he was more interested in the architecture than the woman herself. She was beautiful, he had to admit. But it didn't really matter. Pran wasn’t really there to try and win her affections. Not romantically at least.
Saying that he had been forced would be a disservice to his best friend Wai. But he was damn good at guilt tripping Pran into agreeing to the most outrageous of things.
A gay man joining a show where his role was to try and woo a woman and win her heart? Idiotic. It also made Pran feel like a fraud.
His mother had also been delighted at the news. While he had gone on some dates in his 25 years of life, he'd never had a boyfriend stick around long enough to be introduced to the people that actually mattered to him. At some point he had given up. He would still find one night stands, but never anything that mattered emotionally. He was just satisfying a need.
His mother wasn't homophobic. She really wasn't. She had accepted him with open arms and words of love when he told her about the revelation he had had. But she also saw how years later her son was unable to find someone he could share his closely guarded but big heart with. So maybe she hoped that trying to like a woman might help. He could still like men. She had read about people like that too.
Somewhere between Wai's pleading and the hopeful look in his mother's eyes had gotten him to give in. Pran already knew how it would end though.
“Welcome Parakul. You can call me Ink. I look forward to getting to know you better.”
“Just Pran is alright. Same here.” Her smile was pretty. Pran also cast a look at the silky deep red dress she was wearing. The color got darker the further down it went. The fabric seemed soft, and as Ink moved it easily flowed with her movements. Her silver earrings compliment the dress nicely. “The dress looks great on you.”
“Thank you. You look very handsome in that suit.” Pran noticed a faint blush on her cheeks. He also felt a smile naturally come, grateful for the compliment. However there was no flutter in his chest. No racing heartbeat or red flustered cheeks.
They talked for another minute about nothings before Pran had to keep going. He was led into another room where the contestant earlier than him had settled down. He grabbed something to drink and followed their example. Wai wasn't here yet and he didn't feel like starting small talk with anyone.
Around 20 minutes later Pran stopped breathing. Through the same door he came through stepped the most gorgeous man he had ever laid his eyes on. The sleeves of his burgundy dress shirt were rolled up and sat snuggly around his arms, clearly showing off just how muscular they were. The black vest hugged his waist, making it look extremely grabbable, all the while showing off his wide chest. His hair was gelled up with not a strand out of order. The final critical hit was when he turned to the side to pick up a glass from the bar, showing Pran one of the nicest asses he had ever set his eyes on.
The fierce and focused eyes of the man scanned the room. Pran felt his breath hitch when the handsome stranger started to head his way.
If only Pran wasn’t aware that this was a show where he and the handsome stranger were supposed to try and get together with Ink, a woman. If only. Anywhere else and Pran would have at least attempted to flirt a little.
Still, Pran could admire. And admire he would.
At least until the man came close enough and opened his mouth, shattering the parataxic distortion before it even had a chance to form fully.
“What's up dude? Don’t mind if I sit here, do you? I know my handsomeness can be a bit intimidating.” He wiggled his eyebrows slightly as he spoke. He also didn’t allow Pran to answer before taking a seat. His hand combed through his hair, messing up the perfect hairstyle the stylists must have given him. He also unbuttoned the first two buttons on the dress shirt, allowing Pran a peak at his collarbone.
Cocky bastard.
“I do mind. You are wearing way too much perfume,” Pran replied with a nonchalant tone.
The man’s eyes went wide in surprise. Just seconds later he lifted his arm to take a sniff. Pran just waited silently, watching the man’s expression change from surprise to the stupidest pout he had seen. It made him look like a kicked puppy.
“Aw… I usually take this much of my cologne and it’s fine,” the man continued, not dropping the pout.
“You-” Pran couldn’t help the soft snort he let out. “Perfume is stronger. You can’t. It’s way too intense.”
Pran wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he expected, but soon the man was leaning in closer. Shocked, Pran froze on the spot, staring as the man got closer to his shoulder before taking an audible sniff.
“You are right! You smell a lot better!” The pout had been replaced with a grin so blinding Pran had to look away. So he punched the other’s shoulder to get him to leave his personal space.
"Weirdo…"
Said weirdo then had the audacity to laugh. The sound was bold and unapologetic, like he had no care in the world. His eyes crinkled up and closed delightfully. Though when he calmed down and leaned back against the couch rest, his eyes were sparkling.
“I’m Pat.”
“Pran.”
They talked for some time after that. Pran got to know the more basic stuff about Pat. Where was from, that he had a younger sister, him working as an engineer. The last point led them down a whole rabbit hole, Pran being an architect himself. It also allowed Pran to get a better feeling for the other’s personality. Pat was extremely animated, and he bounced between being serious and making jokes and teasing remarks like it was nothing. There were subtle things Pran picked up on in his speech patterns. He tended to speak people up more than he did down for example. When he mentioned his sister his eyes would light up, and when his dad came up they would flicker out.
Soon enough the producer stepped into the room to instruct them about the details of the next scene. Pran made sure to listen, picking up all the information necessary, even though his mind was partially elsewhere.
Pran didn’t believe in love at first sight. At a first glance it might sound romantic but he just didn’t get it. Love was… an intense feeling. More than just being attracted to a pretty face, or finding a first interaction enjoyable, it was something deeper. There was no possible way he could feel that after meeting someone once. You couldn’t logically love someone you didn’t actually know. Pran was a meticulous person, and he was the same even in the way he loved.
His first meeting with Pat hadn’t changed that opinion. Pat was handsome, and as irritating as he was, he was also funny and amiable partially due to his predictiveness and puppy like personality. His smile had made something flutter in Pran’s chest, and his laughter was something he’d pay to have professionally recorded.
But that was it. If this was their one and only meeting there would be no lasting sorrow. No wallowing or sad songs about lost love and what could have been. He’d be easily forgotten with time as Pran’s brain prioritized other more important memories to keep.
However, Pran also understood another thing about himself. Perhaps the closest thing to ‘love at first sight’ that he’d ever experienced in his 25 years of life so far. He knew, somewhere deep in his very core, that if he allowed himself, if they spent more time together, that he would almost certainly end up falling for him.
The thought was as exhilarating as it was daunting. Not because of the inevitability of the statement. Pran wasn’t totally at the whims of his emotions, priding himself in his rationality. But opening up your heart like that also made you vulnerable. And with the circumstances that they had met Pran knew how downright asinine it would be to try and pursue that feeling.
The question on Pran’s mind wasn’t therefore if he found Pat attractive. He did.
Or if he had a crush on him. He didn’t.
But rather, if he was that self destructive to indulge himself temporarily for eventual heartbreak.
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
The rest of the day passed by in a blur for Pran. There were so many new faces, so many names to remember. The cameras were everywhere and despite the promise of recordings only occurring openly and obvious he couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched the whole time. He despised it.
It also led to a feeling of helplessness and a lack of control. Everything was too unpredictable. Forcefully he had to on multiple occasions shut down his brain at its constant paranoid nagging.
It made it hard to relax and every conversation he took part in felt awkward and forced. Hopefully that at least made for bad content so he would show up less when the show aired.
The following days made it easier. Luckily. Especially when the producers finally gave the contestants a proper schedule of what to expect the following days beyond what time to show up and how long they were estimated to have to shoot for.
For Pran it meant an individual interview where he told the viewers about himself. He told them about his work as an architect, about being an only child, and how while dog-sitting for a friend he had started to look around to adopt one himself. He showed them the neat and perfect Pran. The Pran that was kind and humble. The Pran his mother had brought him up to be. Any inconvenient ugly sides he left out of the story.
It also meant spending some more time with Ink. The first episode would include a speed dating segment where all the men got a chance to make a bigger first impression beyond the initial greeting. Between him and Ink, she fully carried their conversation. The second the camerawoman had said ‘cut’, he had been out of the room.
“Hey Pran. That was your name right?”
Immediately outside the room the handsome man from the other day was waiting. Obviously not for Pran though, likely it was just his turn to go next.
“Yes. Pat was it right?” Pran replied in return despite knowing he hadn’t gotten the name wrong.
“Yup! I’m glad you remember. How did it go?” Pat pointed with his head towards the door Pran had just come from.
“I… I’m not sure. I’m not the best conversationalist.” Pran didn’t want to scare Pat of course. Even though it didn’t seem like it, he could very well have been terribly nervous. “She is nice though. I’m sure you’ll do well.”
“Hm… I don’t believe so at all. That first meeting I was freaking out you know. Talking with you helped a lot.” Pat smiled wide and Pran couldn’t stop the way a flutter spread through his chest.
“You don’t need to try and make me feel better. You didn’t seem nervous at all.”
“Paa calls it my superpower. I just put all my focus on something and my nerves just go poof.” Pat made a little gesture with the last word, to emphasize it. “So when I got inside you were the first thing that caught my attention, we spoke, and I was fine.”
“Paa?” Pran chose to address the one thing in Pat’s statement that didn’t make his heart go crazy.
“My younger sister.”
“I see. Well… I’m happy I was able to help,” Pran said while trying to keep his voice as even as he could. From the first day he knew Pat had a sister, but it was only now he realized he hadn’t been told what her name was. “Good luck in there, you’ll do good.”
Pat laughed, a sound that sounded way too nice to Pran’s ears. “Thanks. Are you sure you should be cheering on the competition though?”
“Says you.”
“I’m hot, I’ll be fine.”
“And conceited. Could I pay you to be less confident, hm?”
“You are going to take to bribery to assure your victory?” Pat leaned closer as he spoke, an amused smile on his lips. Before Pran had a chance to come up with a witty reply Pat had lifted one of his hands in the air, curling his fingers into a fist.
“What…?”
“Bump it…,” Pat said with a pout. And when Pran did so, though making sure to appear reluctant to it, Pat continued, “May the best man win.”
Pran of course knew there was no actual competition. He wasn’t and would never be in the running. Still, it was hard to say no to Pat. Especially with how expressive he was in everything he did. If Pran was trying to suppress his feelings, then Pat was putting his on a show for the world to see.
Just the idea of doing the same terrified him. He wasn’t sure if he found Pat admirable or just reckless. Perhaps both.
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·
Even if Pran was good at hiding his emotions it didn’t mean he didn’t also feel shit about it. The first chance he got to have some longer alone time with Ink during the speed date just made the feeling grow tenfold. She was here searching for love, opening her heart, trying her best. And what was Pran doing?
He was basically playing with her feelings.
She was nice, and Pran found himself really enjoying her company. They spoke quite a bit between shooting segments actually. They seemed to have similar humor, even if Pran’s was still a bit more sinister. She was outgoing and steadfast, not pulling any punches.
Perhaps what made Pran really start to admire her was between recordings, when one of the camera women had one of her colleagues become a little bit too touchy with her, clearly making her uncomfortable. Pran was on his way to say something, but before he had a chance Ink had been there, physically putting herself between the man and the woman.
The look, or rather glare, that she gave him had made him cower away. Even Pran felt a shill down his spine even if it wasn’t directed at himself.
It was all those feelings combined that had him approach Ink while some other men were being recorded discussing her. They hadn’t even gone through the first episode and Pran already hated how staged it all felt. Though perhaps that was better. The less he was himself in front of the camera, the less he would worry about people’s opinions about him.
“What did you want to talk about? You seem nervous.” Ink seemed to be able to read him like a book. She gave him a kind smile, though she wasn’t able to mask the curiosity also evident in her eyes. “You aren’t going to confess off camera are you? The producer would be very sad.”
The joke had Pran relax even if it didn’t get him laughing.
“No.” Pran couldn’t look her in the eyes even if he felt hers on him. He normally didn’t try to hide his sexuality, but it also wasn’t something he tended to talk about. Coming out like this was daunting even without the added implications. “I like men.”
“Oh- So you are bisexual or something?”
“No, just… just men.”
The silence felt suffocating, and Pran still doesn't dare to look at Ink and see her reaction to his sudden confession. He was all but ready to go down on his knees and apologize when he heard laughter.
“Seriously? What are you doing here then?” It’s the shock of her statement that makes Pran finally look at her. He had expected anger, but at most he got confusion.
“It’s a long story.”
“I can imagine.”
“Don’t worry Ink. I’ll talk to the producer and find a way for me to leave without making you look bad. I’ll-”
“What a relief.”
Ink’s words surprised him again. He watched as she let out a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing. She wasn’t looking at him anymore but up at the ceiling. Briefly her eyes glanced over to the door standing half ajar. Through it the voices of some of the other competitors traveled through. Though in comparison to Ink, Pran couldn’t actually see any of them from his position. It felt metaphorical somehow, him separated from the rest.
“What do you mean?” Pran struggled to wrap his head around her words.
“You are fun. I was worried about the possibility of losing a potential friend in case we didn’t work out romantically. I’m relieved that won’t be the case.”
She gave him a bump on his shoulder, which he returned a little bit awkwardly. He still wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. At least she wasn’t angry, which was a start. And he had to admit that he could see himself becoming friends with her given some more time.
“Would you find it crazy if I asked you to stay?” Ink proceeded to ask when Pran stayed silent for too long.
Pran raised an eyebrow. “Obviously.”
“Have you heard of the first date curse?” At her question Pran just shook his head because he hadn’t heard about this supposed curse. “It’s a common trope. The first contestant to get a one on one date lets it get to their heads a bit much. With some manipulation and pushing from the producer, and the help of some convenient editing, the contestant becomes the villain of the story.”
“That’s messed up…”
Ink hummed in reply. “It made me hesitant who to pick for it. They are all sweet guys, I don’t want to risk them getting hurt. So…”
“You want me to be your villain?” The idea was almost amusing. Pran preferred not to purposely drag the attention towards himself however. This setup would be like hanging a target on his back.
“And friend,” Ink corrected. “Having an insider among them would be useful.”
“Are you sure you aren’t the manipulative one here?”
“You don’t have to do anything special. If you want to leave I’ll just not give you a rose during the ceremony.”
Pran can’t help but let out a sigh. He was not sure if it’s due to guilt or just purely wanting to help Ink after getting to know what a kind woman she was, but ultimately he finds himself agreeing. Perhaps the thought of spending some more time with Pat also affects his decision. Clearly he was a bit of a masochist.
“Alright. Where are we going for this date?”