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*** FILM’S POV ***
There are only two things you really need to know about Film.
First, she loves cats.
Everyone who works with Film knows this immediately. The evidence is impossible to miss. The notebook she brings to meetings? Black, with a pair of yellow cat eyes peering from the corner. Her water tumbler? Printed with the gloriously fat face of Tangerine, her beloved orange menace. Even her pens wear tiny cat bobble heads, nodding along as she takes notes.
Second, she loves coffee.
Not in the casual I can’t function without caffeine way. Film can tell a good cup from a bad one at the first sip. She knows the subtle differences between beans grown in different regions of Thailand. She can even differentiate Vietnamese and Brazilian coffee. She knows whether the beans were freshly ground or left to oxidize into sadness. Last year, she spent her entire bonus on an absurdly expensive coffee machine, the kind that would make those overpriced cafés that sell good milk instead of good coffee weep with inadequacy.
And yet...
Every morning at exactly 8:50, you’ll find her standing in the office pantry, lining up for the coffee maker. Not because she likes it. That coffee was a watery excuse for something that barely qualified as mediocre. But because between 8:50 and 8:55, Namtan gets her coffee there too.
Namtan? Film’s daily moment of weakness.
Namtan transferred to their office about a month ago. She smiled a lot, she has great ideas during meetings, and she was really, unfairly pretty! Her long hair swayed as she walked, her eyes sparkled with warmth, and Film was certain that Namtan’s lips must be impossibly soft.
So if drinking terrible coffee is the price she has to pay to see Namtan every morning, Film will gladly sacrifice her taste buds.
“Good morning,” Namtan mumbled.
Film’s heart leapt, and she spun to face her. “Morning.”
Unfortunately, that was usually the extent of their conversations. An exchange of good mornings. Sometimes an occasional, “Is it still raining outside?” Or, if the stars aligned, “See you at the meeting later!”
Namtan always took one swift tug on the machine and disappeared the moment her cup was full.
Film had always waited for the day they would actually talk. Maybe Namtan would linger after getting her coffee. Maybe she’d ask a question.
She did not thought that it would happen today.
“Tangerine, right?”
Film blinked. Glanced around. Then realized Namtan was looking at her tumbler.
“Yes,” Film said.
“Boy or girl?” Namtan asked, leaning over the counter.
Every internal alarm in Film’s body went off at once.
Namtan was staying. Talking. To her. On purpose.
Film’s brain promptly fled the premises. Her soul did backflips. She felt like a cat frantically chasing a roll of toilet paper. She started rambling.
Words poured out. Tangerine was affectionate. Slightly dramatic. Mortally afraid of vacuum cleaners. Somehow, Film even mentioned that Tangerine had a vet appointment on Saturday.
All the while, Namtan listened. Really listened. She nodded. Her eyes crinkling just enough to make Film melt completely. And a bit worried, to be honest.
Is she talking too much?
Is Namtan just being polite?
Does Namtan even like cats?
So Film tried to save the conversation. “And you? Any plans this weekend?”
Namtan’s reply came like sunlight through a window. Film got lost. She stopped hearing words and focused instead on the way Namtan’s lips moved. How it moves to smile. How her teeth are really nice up close!
She honestly couldn’t hear anything except the loud beating of her own heartbeat.
Namtan's finally having a conversation with her!
“So yeah,” Namtan said. “I’ll probably just stay in bed with Stella.”
Film froze.
Stella?
Stella?!
Who's Stella?
And bed?!
Namtan had a girlfriend?
Film’s brain scrambled to piece reality back together. She and Love had checked Namtan’s Instagram once and Film had returned to it countless times she would never admit. There was nothing there to suggest Namtan had a girlfriend.
Now that she thought about it, of course Namtan had a girlfriend. Someone this radiant and effortlessly charming could never be single.
Film deflated instantly.
Like coffee gone cold.
Like a cat whose favorite toy has rolled under the couch.
***
The next morning, Film made a solemn vow to herself: Do not go near the pantry. Do not encounter Namtan.
She took the long way around the office. After all, there was no reason to come early anymore. When she arrived, she went straight to her desk, heart bracing for a calm, uneventful morning.
Fifteen minutes later, her entire plan collapsed.
A shadow fell over her desk.
She looked up. Standing there, smiling brightly, was the very person she had been planning to avoid. Her heart performed that humiliating, uncontrollable leap in her chest.
“Namtan?”
“I didn’t see you by the coffee machine earlier,” Namtan said, her voice warm and far too cheerful for this hour.
Film froze. “I have some… urgent things to do.”
“Oh,” Namtan said easily, still smiling. “I got you coffee from the pantry. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t missing your morning fix.” She held out a flimsy paper cup.
Film’s internal monologue went into full meltdown.
She made this for me. She came to me. Why?! Does her girlfriend know that her girlfriend is giving someone else a coffee?! Or is Namtan just really nice?!
“Thanks,” Film managed. She grabbed the cup, and her fingers brushed against Namtan’s. Electric jolts shot through her hands. Her chest tightened, and she realized she had absolutely no idea how to breathe normally in this moment.
“I couldn’t miss mine,” Namtan continued cheerfully. “I barely slept last night. Stella kept moving around constantly. One second she decided my legs were her pillow. Next, my arms. Then my stomach.”
“Oh,” Film said, forcing her mouth into something vaguely resembling a smile. “She's… cuddly?”
“Very,” Namtan sighed dreamily, like she was describing the coziest, most affectionate moment in the world. "I have to start getting used used to it.”
Film felt her soul begin to crumble.
***
Film successfully avoided the pantry again the next day. She even added an extra precaution: if she took her morning off, Namtan wouldn’t have the chance to bring coffee to her desk.
Love, sitting nearby, later reported that Namtan had been looking for her in the morning. Film pretended she hadn’t heard.
Unfortunately, the universe had other plans.
That afternoon, Film went to the bathroom and froze. Namtan was standing by the mirror, head tilted slightly as she examined something on her neck.
Film was ready to retreat, turn, and run. But Namtan glanced sideways.
“Oh, hey, Film!”
“Hey,” Film replied, her voice betraying nothing except her imminent collapse.
There was no escape now. She continued walking toward the cubicles, toward Namtan. And then she noticed it.
Is that a red mark? On her neck?
Film’s mind screamed in alarm.
“Oh,” Namtan said lightly, touching the spot. “Stella was being playful and tried to bite me. It didn’t really break the skin, but it still turned reddish.”
She said it the same way someone might mention the weather, a printer jam, or what they had for breakfast.
Film’s imagination detonated.
Her knees wobbled. Her chest tightened. Her brain switched to full panic mode. She pictured Stella, who in Film's mind is a very attractive woman straight out of those modeling videos, clinging to Namtan in some impossibly intimate way.
“What do you do in these situations?” Namtan asked casually.
Film have had kiss marks before. That was normal among couples who lost a little bit of control. But biting? None of her exes had ever been wild enough to do that.
“I… I don’t know,” Film stammered. “Oh, maybe a warm compress?”
Namtan’s face lit up instantly. “Thanks! It’s nice to have someone who knows about these things. Can I ask you again if something like this happens again?”
“Sure?” Film said, though her voice was far from convincing. Because what the hell was that?!
***
The thing was, the more Film tried to walk away from Namtan, the more she ended up right beside her… and trapped in yet another story about her girlfriend. And at the back of her mind, she could almost hear the universe laughing, “Isn’t that exactly what you wished for? For your crush to talk to you?”
Yes, except that all Namtan wanted to talk about was Stella.
“She decided to wake me up at 2 a.m. for a meal. I had to run to 7-11 in my pajamas just to get her that creamy stuff.”
“She snuggled last night, but took up the entire bed. I had to cling to the edge! How do you think I should reclaim my space?”
“She’s just sleeping all day, and yet she seemed cranky the entire time.”
Film was piecing together a mental image of Stella. Unemployed. Pretty sure about that. Based on Namtan’s stories, she seemed to lounge around Namtan’s apartment while Namtan bought her food. Sweet, but chaotic. Kissing Namtan one moment, ignoring her the next. Wild. Definitely wild. Film was debating whether or not it really happened when Namtan had once casually mentioned she was planning to buy toys for her and even asked Film for recommendations. And Namtan had the audacity to look so surprise when Film replied that she doesn't know?!
Her mental image of Stella solidified one afternoon at the cafeteria when Namtan asked, mid-story again about Stella, “You want to see a picture of her?”
Film nodded before she could overthink it. Mouth dry. Palms sweating. Heart performing unsanctioned gymnastics in her chest. Of course, she has always been curious about how Stella looks like!
Namtan slid her phone across the table.
The photo revealed a stunning girl in a pastel sundress. Long hair, soft, elegant smile, perfect posture. Clutched in her arms was a gigantic, absurdly fluffy white cat, like someone had stuffed a cloud into fur and gifted it to humanity.
So Stella's a furmom too!
“Wow. She’s… really pretty,” Film said, voice somewhere between awe, resignation, and something that felt dangerously close to admiration. Suddenly, everything Namtan had said about her happiness and excitement made sense.
“She really is,” Namtan said proudly, as if showing off a beloved work of art.
Film’s mind raced. Note to self: be more specific with wishes next time. Clearly, the universe was so capable of delivering chaos.
*** NAMTAN’S POV ***
Namtan tapped the green button on her phone, her thumb hovering a split second longer than necessary, as if bracing herself for impact.
The screen flickered to life.
A pretty girl appeared almost instantly, her smile so bright it made Namtan roll her eyes. “How’s my baby?” Mint singsonged, her voice dripping with affection.
Namtan scoffed and angled the camera toward the curtains. There, suspended several inches off the ground, was a furious white ball of fur clinging to the fabric as if her life depended on it. Stella’s claws dug in with impressive determination, her tiny body trembling, tail flicking like an irritated metronome.
“I swear to God, Mint,” Namtan said flatly, “if Stella destroys another curtain—”
Mint burst into uncontrollable laughter. “Aww! That just means she’s warming up to you!”
Warming up, Namtan thought darkly. If warming up means screaming at her at 2 a.m. with eyes glowing like tiny flashlights just to demand food… scratching the door until she nearly lose my patience… biting my foot for no reason at all… then yes. Stella, Mint’s precious terror in fur, was definitely warming up to me.
Two weeks ago, Mint had flown abroad, leaving Stella in Namtan’s care.
“I honestly can’t remember why I agreed to this,” Namtan muttered, watching Stella slide down the curtain an inch before climbing back up. “Oh, right. You said I’d finally have something to talk about with my crush. Guess what? Not working.”
“What do you mean not working?” Mint asked, curiosity lacing her tone. “I thought she was a huge cat person?”
“Bigger than you, Mint,” Namtan replied, rubbing her temple. “Everything about her screams cats!”
“I don’t think so,” Mint teased. “A huge cat person would stop what she’s doing with just a mention of a pink paw.”
“I don’t know,” Namtan groaned. “She stopped going to the pantry after the first time I mentioned Stella. At first I thought it was coincidence, but now I’m convinced she’s avoiding me.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I tried finding excuses to talk to her. I asked for advice, where to buy cat toys…”
“What did she say?”
“She looked horrified! I swear, every time I mention Stella, she acts like I personally ruined her day. Like she wants to disappear into the floor.”
Namtan’s thoughts drifted despite herself. She remembered secretly watching Film’s shy laugh, the way little dimples appeared when she smiled, the soft warmth in her voice when she said good morning. Now all she seemed to see was fear whenever Namtan came near.
So yes, Mint’s bargaining that Namtan and Film would finally have something to talk about was failing spectacularly.
“Maybe she can tell you’re just pretending to like cats,” Mint said, clearly enjoying herself. “She probably knows deep down that you want to launch them out the window.”
“Hey! I don’t hate cats,” Namtan protested quickly. “I just prefer them at some distance.”
“Did you show her the picture I said was Stella at her absolute cutest?” Mint pressed.
“Yes,” Namtan said dryly. “The one where you’re holding her. She looked mildly interested, I guess. Said Stella was pretty. Maybe she’s just being polite.”
“How can a cat person not be into Stella?” Mint scoffed.
Namtan raised an eyebrow. “Maybe, Stella’s just not that cute?”
“TAKE THAT BACK!” Mint yelled, half-laughing, half-mortally offended.
Namtan found herself laughing along, despite the tension in her shoulders. Stella, abandoning the curtains, had relocated to the back of the sofa, glaring at Namtan like she was mentally drafting a revenge plan. Evil. But undeniably cute.
“How dare you blame Stella when maybe she’s just not that into you,” Mint said gently.
At that moment, Stella let out a loud, judgmental meow.
“See?” Mint added smugly. “Even Stella agrees.”
“Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Namtan muttered, a small smile tugging at her lips. “But yeah, probably you’re right.”
And then Stella, as if to prove her point, hopped gracefully into Namtan’s lap, kneading gently and glaring at her with those wide, accusing eyes. Namtan sighed, surrendering to the chaos—and secretly, to how soft her heart was melting.
***
On the day Mint flew back, Namtan’s phone buzzed. She read the message, "I’m at your office lobby! Let’s go home! I can’t wait to see my baby."
Namtan grabbed her bag and hurried downstairs.
“I missed you!” Mint said the moment she spotted her, throwing her arms around Namtan in a tight hug.
Namtan laughed. "It's okay to admit that it's Stella that you miss."
"Okay," Mint teased. "Then yes, it's Stella I missed. So hurry up!"
As they pulled apart, Namtan caught movement by the entrance.
Film.
Namtan has stopped trying to talk to Film the past days. They're back to polite smiles and brief hellos. Because Mint was right. Maybe Film just wasn’t interested. Maybe she got the wrong vibe. And she has to slowly accept that.
Namtan tugged Mint a step to the side, clearing the doorway. “Hey, Film.”
Film gave her a smile and a small nod.
Mint’s gaze sharpened with instant interest. She elbowed Namtan. “Oh! Film ~Film?”
Film stopped on her tracks. And her eyes widened a bit when she her eyes traveled to Mint.
"Yes, I'm Film. You’re Stella, right? It’s nice to meet you,” Film extended her hand. "Namtan's always talking about you."
Mint blinked.
Namtan froze.
They looked at each other.
Stella?
Does Film think...
Wait.
Mint recovered first.
“Oh! No, no,” she laughed. “I’m Stella’s mom. I’m Mint.” She pointed at Namtan. “Namtan’s been taking care of her while I was abroad.”
Film stared at Mint.
Then very slowly, at Namtan. Then back to Mint, "You're not Stella? You're not her girlfriend? But the picture you showed me..."
Something in Namtan’s brain exploded.
Film thought Stella was her girlfriend.
Film thought Mint was Stella because of the picture she showed.
If Film thinks Stella is girlfriend...
Namtan gasped. Realization crash into her all at once. Every conversation replayed in her mind:
“Stella and I slept together." "She tried to bit my neck again.” "Do you know where to get good toys for Stella?"
“Wait,” Namtan said, eyes wide. “But I told you about it. When you asked me about my weekend. I told you Mint left her to me.”
“Oh my God,” Film breathed. Her hands flew up to cover her face. "I got lost in thoughts because I was so surprised you were talking to me! I only heard the part that you're going to spend the weekend in bed with Stella. Then you kept talking about her and in my mind, 'Wow, she's really obsessed with her girlfriend!'”
Mint laughed out loud. "I can't!"
“No,” Namtan said quickly, turning back to Film, heart pounding. “I kept talking about her because I was finding a reason to talk to you. I thought the cat was my way to bond with you.”
Film stared at her for a second. Then she laughed, shaking her head. Soft at first, then helplessly. “Wow."
Namtan’s smile softened. “We’re just going back to my apartment, do you want to meet Stella? Like officially? Then we can grab dinner afterwards?”
“Yeah,” Film replied. “I’d really like that.”
Back in Namtan’s apartment, Stella scratched the couch like it owed her something, unaware of the chaos she’d nearly caused.