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The taxi pulled up in front of her house a couple of minutes before midnight. Another unplanned late night, thanks to a last-minute meeting with a potential client. Time had different dimensions recently, minutes, hours slipped by faster than she was used to. Meetings, interviews, workshops, rushing from one event to the next. It all blurred into a single, endless loop. She wasn’t just tired. She was exhausted, running on little more than stubborn willpower and an old promise she’d made to herself to never give up. Because one thing Emi Thasorn Klinnium would never do is give up. No matter how drained she was, she knew sleep wouldn’t come easily. Once, all it took was a quiet corner and a place to rest her head, and sleep would arrive without hesitation.
Those days were memories now. Her rational side understood what was inevitable, yet she kept pushing, ignoring the warning signs and the worried comments from family and friends. Even her fans had begun to voice their concern, urging her to slow down and focus on her health. And then there was Bonnie, her main advocate. The quiet voice of reason never backed off, gently reminding her to eat, rest, and slow down.
A faint smile ghosted her lips at the thought of her on-screen partner. And friend. Bonnie was more than that, really. More than a co-worker, more than a friendship. She was her person. Her number one girl. Most people dismissed Emi’s number one girl statement and recent clinginess to Bonnie as PR, part of their fanservice they were expected to maintain, and Emi had the uneasy feeling that Bonnie might see it that way as well. The thought hurt more than she cared to admit. Because in reality, Bonnie was the constant variable in the equation, the one thing that never seemed to change no matter how chaotic everything else became. She was everything Emi had ever wanted, and everything she needed. Bonnie was her safe zone, her security blanket, the answer to questions Emi had never dared to ask.
Emi had never believed in love. She’d lived her life convinced she didn’t need anyone, that relying on someone else is weakness and only led to disappointment. And yet here she was, wanting to give one person her entire world. Unfortunately, Bonnie didn’t seem to take her seriously. Or maybe she didn’t believe someone like Emi, someone who could have anyone, would ever choose her. Emi tried in every way she knew to express her feelings, but nothing ever seemed to land. Their love languages were painfully different. Emi showed care through action, through doing, through service. Bonnie needed words. Reassurance. Clear confirmation. Which wasn't Emi's strength.
And what do you do when the way you love isn’t the way the person you love wanted to be loved?
She quietly locked the door behind her, kicked off her shoes, and tiptoed through the house toward her bedroom, careful not to wake her mother. Halfway down the hall, she remembered. Her mom had left for China that afternoon and would be visiting relatives for the next couple of weeks. Because of Emi’s chaotic schedule, Choyu, her aging Pomeranian, usually stayed with her aunt during her mom’s travels. Which raised an important question. What was Choyu doing, poking his little head through the narrow crack of her half-open bedroom door? Before she could freak out about the dog, a bigger problem appeared. Someone was in her room. She heard the rustle of papers, a soft hum, and then a familiar voice:
“Choyu, come lie back down.”
Choyu let out a tiny whine and wriggled through the gap, determined to reach Emi.
“Oh… you need to go out? I told you not to drink all the water”
Emi stood there frozen. The voice belonged to the one and only Bonnie Pattraphus. Who was in her bedroom. At midnight. Babysitting her dog—or who knew what else. This had to be a dream.
It wasn’t.
The door swung fully open, and there she was. Bonnie. Her gummy smile brighter than Emi remembered, wearing Emi’s favorite oversized hoodie and sweatpants, looking impossibly casual and impossibly… at home.
“P’Mi, you’re home,” Bonnie said, her voice soft, teasing, and somehow full of something Emi couldn’t name. All she could do was stare. Not at Bonnie, though—behind her. Because, behind Bonnie was a bed. A twin-size bed, neatly made with pillows and blankets. One side was already claimed by what Emi assumed was Bonnie’s computer, a scattering of pens, and a small pile of paper. And with that came a new question, layered on top of the first: Why were Choyu and Bonnie here? And… why did she have a bed in her room?
Everyone knew that Emi didn’t own a bed. It was a well-known fact, mentioned in countless interviews. She had a mattress, good enough for struggling through two hours of sleep on the rare nights she actually got any. Emi’s eyes kept flicking between Bonnie and the bed, her brain refusing to form coherent thoughts.
“Bonnie…what’s happening here?”
Bonnie leaned casually against the doorframe, close enough that Emi could feel her warmth. “Relax, P’Mi. It’s just a bed. I wanted to make sure you have a good night sleep” Her eyes glimmered, half-serious, half-mischievous.
Only, it wasn’t just any bed. It was the exact same brand, a very expensive one, Emi had raved about during their fanmeet in Osaka—where she’d had one of the best nights’ sleep, she could remember. The truth was it wasn’t entirely the bed that made it memorable; the companion had a lot to do with it. Still, the bed itself played its part.
“P’Mi, you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” Bonnie said quietly but firmly. “I’m worried about you. You don’t eat, you don’t hydrate, and you barely sleep. So, until March 7th, you’re on probation.”
Emi blinked. “Probation?”
“Yes,” Bonnie continued, completely unfazed. “You’ll eat proper food, drink enough water, and get real sleep. I’m coming over every night to make sure of it. The first step was getting you a bed.”
“I’m not a kid” Emi shot back, her annoyance half-hearted at best. “I can take care of myself.”
Bonnie raised an eyebrow. “Then prove it, and I’ll leave you alone. Until then, you will follow my rules. Simple ones. Eat. Drink. Sleep.”
She paused, eyes glinting with something playful. “And remember what you said in that interview a few days ago? That you can’t sleep if no one’s lying next to you?”
Emi huffed, crossing her arms. “What about that?”
“Well,” Bonnie continued lightly, “problem solved. Unless you’ve got a secret faen somewhere who’s willing to come over and cuddle with you every night, you’re stuck with me.”
Emi’s heart skipped. The determination in Bonnie’s voice, the warmth beneath it, the sparkle in her eyes all made her feel dizzy in the best way. And the irony of it all didn’t escape her. A secret faen. If only Bonnie knew.
“You really think you can boss me around like this every night?” she asked pretending to be annoyed but clearly putting on a show.
Bonnie’s gummy smile widened. “I don’t think, P’Mi. I know.”
Fully accepting her fate, Emi didn’t resist when Bonnie helped her remove her contact lens and makeup, then guided her to the shower. When she stepped out, fresh and squeaky clean, Bonnie was already curled under the covers, half-asleep, her breathing soft and steady. Emi hesitated for a heartbeat, then slipped in beside her, the warmth of the bed and Bonnie’s presence awakening happy yet conflicting thoughts in her.
This closeness was why Emi loved the overseas fan meets. Meeting their fans, the performance, and getting to know other cultures were all part of the experience, but moments like this, lying next to Bonnie, feeling so near, were what made it all unforgettable. The need to touch Bonnie, to have any physical connection—even if it was just linking their pinkies—was urgent, almost unbearable. She wanted to reach out, to close the tiny gap between them, to feel Bonnie’s hand in hers, but stopped herself at the last second.
“When did I become so annoyingly clingy?” she murmured, almost to herself.
“It’s not annoying. I love it,” Bonnie murmured back, her voice thick with sleep. She shifted closer, draping an arm over Emi’s waist, pressing her body against hers. Bonnie’s head found the hollow of her neck and Emi’s heart exploded with all kinds of messy feelings.
Bonnie… I—” She couldn’t finish. No words were good enough to express what she felt. Gratitude, longing, love came at once, overloading her heart. She still couldn’t quite believe that this wonderful, chaotic girl had gone through all that trouble just for her: buying her a bed, spending a little fortune of her hard‑earned money, committing to care for her while juggling a thesis, a day job, and everything else life demanded.
“Stop overthinking. Sleep,” Bonnie whispered, tightening her grip around Emi’s waist, melting into her even more.
Emi closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the quiet, intoxicating comfort of being held by her number one girl. As sleep slowly took over, the last thought passing through her conscious mind was both terrifying and thrilling: she was utterly, helplessly in love.