Chapter Text
Bangkok, 11:27 P.M.
Ling arrived at the Bangkok airport terminal. It was the last flight from Hong Kong to Thailand, a spontaneous decision after quitting everything she had worked for her entire life. It was the bravest thing she had ever done, and the stupidest in her parents’ eyes. She had just thrown away a decade of hardship, endless nights, and her lifelong dream right when she was already at the top of her career.
It seemed like she had just thrown away her own life.
But it wasn’t nothing.
That was the problem.
She just didn’t have the energy to carry it anymore.
So she got on a plane.
And now she was in Thailand, unemployed and barely speaking the language. She only stayed here during summers with her mother’s side, and only then did she practice the language but it had been years since she stayed longer than a week because of her demanding life in Hong Kong.
And now she was back, hoping to stay a while.
She hopped into a taxi and gave the address of the apartment complex she’d be staying in temporarily until she figured out what to do with her life. It was her best friend’s place, Becky. She had lent it to her for a while since she was staying in the overseas for a year for work.
Ling was thankful for that. She wasn’t ready to go home to her family. No one knew she was back, they only knew she had left her job. To be honest, she didn’t have the energy to face their questions about her life choices, and she was here to rest and do nothing.
During the flight, she had planned everything she was going to do with her life when she landed.
And then she decided to do nothing at all.
Just sleep, eat, sleep again, and be lazy. She owed that to herself. She quit her job because she was burned out and tired. Her goal now was to waste her time as revenge for all the time she had spent working and studying her whole life.
She chuckled at the thought, smiling widely in the backseat of the cab like a lunatic with a plan while the driver silently judged her through the rearview mirror.
She arrived at the entrance of the complex, paid the cab, and carried her small luggage. She had only packed clothes she found in her piles of fresh laundry and just hoped for the best.
She rode the elevator to the highest floor. She had only set foot in Becky’s place once, when she had to drop her off after drinking the whole bar.
The elevator ride was quiet.
Too quiet.
Ling stared at the buttons.
Then at her reflection.
Then back at the buttons.
“I look unemployed,” she muttered.
The elevator dinged.
She stepped out.
Paused. The hallway had two doors.
She stepped back in.
“Wrong floor?” She checked again.
No.
Right floor.
“Wait… could it be the wrong address?”
The hallway looked familiar.
Perhaps not.
She tried to recall their earlier call when Becky gave her the code to the lock, but her mind was hazy from the jet lag.
She looked at the time. It was 12:07 a.m. She should call Becky. She reached into her pocket for her phone.
It was dead.
She sighed and closed her eyes, trying to remember their earlier conversation.
Think, monkey, think, she urged herself but alas, her mind could only conjure a huge question mark.
“God damn it, stupid jet lag,” she muttered. One thing about Lingling is that she liked talking to herself too much. “ Which door?”
“I got a feeling it’s this one,” she said confidently, staring at the right door.
Ling trusted her instincts.
Her instincts had never once been right when it came to decisions like this, but that had never stopped her before.
She nodded to herself and stepped in front of the door.
“I don’t remember her having a neighbor anyway. Right, right you are such a brilliant woman, Ling.”
She patted her shoulder proudly.
She typed the code confidently.
Incorrect.
Another attempt.
Incorrect.
“Huh?” She stared, confused, her thick eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t tell me I mixed the numbers up.”
Third attempt.
Still wrong.
She tried again, and again. She could have sworn it was the right number. If only she had written the damn code on paper instead of her phone notes, this wouldn’t be happening.
She stared at the keypad like it had personally offended her, then at her useless phone.
“Damn you, technology,” she muttered, shaking her dead phone like it might resurrect out of fear.
“God, I’m so angry… and hungry. I’m hangry.”
She paused, staring at the door, her mind empty except for building frustration.
“I’m going to break this door.”
A pause.
“Yes. That’s reasonable.”
She backed off, braced her left shoulder, and bolted toward the door to break the lock—
Then the door suddenly swung open.
Ling didn’t even have time to feel victorious.
Something hard collided with her head.
WHACK
“What the—!”
“Stop resisting.” Her attacker’s voice was calm.
Too calm.
It was terrifying.
Ling blocked another hit with her arm. “You’re hitting me!”
“You were attempting to break into my home.”
“I thought this was Becky’s door!”
Another pause. The woman recognized the name.
A beat. The woman tilted her head.
“So you thought breaking the door down would help?”
“That felt like the next logical step!” Ling shrieked.
Silence.
Then…
“You’re an idiot.”
Ling looked up. She was face-to-face with a literal goddess. Sharp, composed, and insanely beautiful.
Ridiculously beautiful.
“Damn… you’re really pretty.”
WHACK
“You’re a criminal and a pervert.”
It was the last thing she heard before she blacked out