Chapter Text
Ever since he was little, Fourth had always dreamed of becoming a singer. Music was the only thing that made him feel like the world was a little brighter.
He sang while sweeping the front yard, he sang while helping his mom prepare the noodles at their small family shop, and he sang whenever he walked home from school. The dream never faded. It just grew along with him.
The problem was the town he lived in. It was a small place where most kids had two choices after graduating. Either they moved to a big city to work, or they stayed and worked at one of the shops or factories nearby. Dreams like being a singer sounded nice, but people often said it was too uncertain.
Still, Fourth tried his best. He made a YouTube channel called Fot2x and started posting cover songs. He recorded everything on his phone. The microphone he used was something he bought online for cheap, and sometimes it caught more noise from the fan than his actual voice. A few videos turned out nice, but many others were shaky or had weird audio.
Even so, Fourth kept believing. He would tell himself that every singer started somewhere and that maybe one day someone would notice him. Hope was the thing he never let go of.
One evening, after finishing his shift at the shop, he opened Instagram and found a notification from someone he had not talked to in years. Satang. His friend from high school. They had been really close back then, but drifted apart after graduation because life simply pulled them in different directions.
Satang had commented on one of his cover videos. “Your voice is still good like before.”
Fourth replied thanks to him, then messaged Satang privately. It did not take long before they were talking like nothing had changed. Satang told him he was working as a camera staff at PT Ent. Fourth himself shared that he spent most of his days helping at his parents’ noodle shop.
After a few days of chatting, Satang asked a question that made Fourth stop for a moment.
“Why don’t you try your luck here, in Krungthep? You always wanted to sing. There are so many chances here.”
Fourth sighed at his phone. He wanted to say yes, but he already knew the reasons he would not .
“I don’t think I can yet. I don’t have enough money. Rent and everything is expensive there. I also don’t have any family or relatives.” He typed slowly.
Not long after, a new message popped up.
“You can stay with me. My condo is not that big but it is enough for two people. You will get more chances here. You can work part time, sing at cafes, bars, wherever. People will hear your voice. You can even try auditions. You really have talent. Don’t waste it.”
Fourth stared at the screen. The idea of moving was big. Bigger than anything Fourth had done in his life. Leaving home, leaving the town he grew up in, leaving the comfort of the routine he already understood.
What if he failed? What if he disappointed everyone? What if the city was too harsh and he was too small?
But then he remembered that staying meant never trying. Staying meant watching his dream shrink year by year until it disappeared.
That night, he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. The sound of motorcycles from the distant street drifted through the window. He thought about little Fourth, the boy who sang while chasing stray cats around the neighborhood. That boy wanted to be on a real stage. That boy believed he would. He took a deep breath.
Maybe it was time to take the risk that boy had once dreamed of. The idea scared him, but it also stirred something inside. And within a week, Fourth packed a small suitcase with his clothes and also brought his guitar case.
His mother tried to hide her worry as she hug him goodbye at the bus terminal
“Don’t forget to eat,” she said.
“I won’t,” he promised, though he wasn’t sure how he’d manage to survive in a city he barely knew.
The big city welcomed him with chaos. Honking cars, flashing lights, and a heat that felt nothing like home. Fourth took a moment outside the station, gripping his small suitcase in one hand and his guitar case in the other, trying to steady his breath.
Everything here moved fast. Everyone here seemed to know exactly where to go.
He did not.
He made his way through the crowd until he finally reached the small gray building where Satang’s condo was. It stood on the edge of the city, not glamorous or modern, but tall enough to make Fourth tilt his head back when he looked at it.
Satang was already waiting outside. He waved his arm as soon as he spotted him.
“There you are, Isan superstar!” Satang called out with a wide grin. He walked up and slapped Fourth’s shoulder. “You look like a lost puppy.”
“I am lost,” Fourth said, laughing through his nerves. “This city is huge.”
“Lucky for you that you have me now. Come in.”
Satang led him upstairs. The condo was small but warm. There were three rooms in total. A main room that worked as both the living room and kitchen, one bathroom, and one bedroom that was surprisingly spacious for a place like this.
Satang had cleaned everything until it shone under the soft lights. More than that, he had already prepared an extra floor mattress in his room for Fourth.
“I hope this is fine. I tried to make it comfortable,” Satang said, scratching his cheey.
“It’s perfect,” Fourth replied.
And he meant it. The condo felt safe. It felt like the first little piece of hope in this big, intimidating city.
His routine found its rhythm fast. During the day, he helped around the neighborhood or took small part time jobs. At night, he sang in different bars and small venues. Some places were noisy. Some had only a handful of customers. But he sang anyway, pouring everything into each note.
With the money he saved and the camera borrowed from Satang, he uploaded cover videos of far better quality than before. His channel grew slowly, the comments multiplied and the views climbed little by little.
Life was not extravagant, but it was enough. He split rent with Satang. They cooked simple meals together. Laughed over a soap opera with cheap snacks in their hands.
Fourth realized that the quiet closeness between them felt like having an older brother who watched out for him, teased him, and pushed him forward whenever his confidence shook.
Satang was the one who encouraged him to audition for ent. agencies. Fourth followed the suggestion, starting with smaller ones. Many rejected him with polite emails. A few gave good comments but still didn't accept him.
The rejections stung, but each time he returned home, Satang was there to lift his spirits.
“You are improving. They just don’t see it yet,” Satang would say, tossing him a can of soda.
Fourth smiled, believing him a little more each time.
Then one evening, out of nowhere, Satang suggested, “Why not try PT Ent. The audition process is open to the public anyway.”
Fourth froze on the spot. “They are a big agency. They will never even gonna notice me. If small agencies don't want me, how can they?”
“You are thinking too much,” Satang replied. “Just try. It’s better than wandering forever.”
Fourth hesitated for days. The thought of walking into such a huge company made his stomach twist. But Satang kept encouraging him, gently and consistently, until he finally filled out the online form.
He almost forgot about it. He assumed it would be another quiet rejection.
But a few days later, while he was cooking instant noodles, his phone buzzed.
He had to read the email three times to believe it.
His application passed the first round. He was invited for a direct audition at the agency.
“SATANG!”
From the bathroom, Satang’s muffled voice replied, “What?! Did the noodles burn again?”
“No! They called me! PT Entertainment! They actually called me for an audition!”
Satang stumbled out, toothbrush still in his mouth. “Wait—what? For real?”
Fourth nodded wildly, nearly spilling his coffee.
“Holy crap,” Satang said through foam, rushing to rinse his mouth. “That’s amazing! See? I told you you’d get your shot!”
That night, Satang insisted on taking him out for barbecue to celebrate. They sat by the grill, flipping meat and vegetables, filling the air with laughter that mixed with the smell of smoke.
“If I become rich later,” Fourth joked as he bit into a perfectly cooked slice, “I will buy every barbecue place in this city for you.”
Satang pointed his chopsticks at him. “I will hold you to that promise.”
Fourth laughed. For the first time since coming to the city, he felt like his dream was not just a distant hope.