Chapter Text
For most of his life, Keng Harit Buayoi had a simple outline that mapped his life: study, work hard, make money, get married and settle down with a nice girl. Of his parents' choice, of course. If he married for love, that would be nice, he had mused to himself. But it had never been his priority. He often thought love was not for him.
During his entire life of Twenty-Three Years, he had dated exactly two girls he had really liked, (at different times! He was NOT a cheater!) but for reasons beyond his comprehension, both relationships had fallen apart.
"It's not me, Keng!" Maia had said, through her tears, as she dumped him. "It's you. You're the problem."
"I'm sorry," 18-year-old Keng had started awkwardly.
"What are you sorry for?" Maia crossed her arms, tapping her foot. Even though the tears glistened on her cheeks, her eyes were steely.
"For…" Keng paused for exactly a second. "…hurting you?"
Maia threw her hands up in exasperation. "You're so clueless!"
And then she had walked away from a very confused-looking Keng.
That night, as he sat down to finish his homework (because, of course he, Keng Harit, model student, perfect son, had started it in-between classes), he found a piece of paper wedged between the notebooks in his bag. He was sure that he hadn't seen this particular piece of paper before.
He picked it out and unfolded it, recognizing Maia's familiar scrawl.
In the letter, Maia detailed how he, Keng Harit, a very, very sweet—too sweet— guy, was just not what she needed. "You're sweet," the letter had stated, "but you do things like a robot. It's like you don't feel anything. I used to get butterflies whenever I held your hand, but when I looked at you, it was like, huh. Whatever. Like you could be holding a banana in your hand. Actually, I think you'd be more excited holding a banana, than my hand."
Keng thought that made perfect sense. Because, his brain reasoned, if you get hungry, you can eat the banana. But, you cannot, in any capacity, eat a human hand.
"And for the Math test I asked you to help me and instead of letting me copy off your answers, you just nodded and then did nothing!
Well, the test had been fairly easy, and Maia was a smart girl.
"But the thing I actually had a problem with was Jane! She asked you to help her with the group project and you immediately dropped everything to help her! Did you even stop to think how I would've felt? Or were you just excited to work on the project with Jane??"
To be honest, the project was pretty exciting and Keng had enjoyed working on it.
"Since you're more interested in hanging out with other people, I think it's better that we end things here". The letter ended with Maia saying she hoped Keng found someone who deserves someone like him.
But Keng wasn't sure if she meant it as a blessing.
At 21, Keng was no better. He had been going out with a girl from one of his engineering courses (yes, this is Keng, not Pharan, sorry for the lack of creativity I guess!) for about eight months, when it happened. He had gone out to meet his girlfriend, for their bi-weekly (once every two weeks, just so we're clear and there's no confusion) date.
"It's not me, Keng!" Thanya had said, through her tears, as she dumped him. "It's you. You're the problem."
"I'm sorry," 21-year-old Keng had started awkwardly. He was starting to feel a strange sensation.
"What are you sorry for?" Thanya crossed her arms, tapping her foot. Even though the tears glistened on her cheeks, her eyes were steely. Weird. He had seen this before.
"For…" Keng paused for exactly a second. "…hurting you?" Something like this had happened before, hadn't it? Exactly like this. Is this what a deja vu felt like?
Thanya threw her hands up in exasperation. "You're so clueless!"
And then she had walked away from a very confused-looking Keng, who accepted that, yes, this was, indeed, a deja vu.
That night, he received a very long text from his now-ex, detailing how he, Keng Harit, a very, very sweet—too sweet— guy, was just not what she needed. "You're sweet," the message had stated, "but you do things as if you're on autopilot. Like they're expected of you. Not because you want to. And that's incredibly frustrating. You take me on a date every two weeks like clockwork."
Keng wondered what was wrong with going on a date every two weeks. Like clockwork.
"Last month, I sent you an Instagram post of that guy who gave his girlfriend a big bouquet of roses with their birth dates, and I told you it was so cute, and then two weeks later you bought me like 20? Roses? Where was the thought behind the gift????? Your birthday is 19 and mine is 21!!!!"
So, she wanted 21 roses? Honestly, breaking up over 1 rose less seemed kind of petty to Keng.
He continued reading:
"And then, when we went shopping two days ago and I showed you a top and asked you how it looked, you said it made my eyes look dull! That's so rude! Do you not even know how compliment anyone?? I've been thinking about it a lot but we're simply not compatible."
He nodded solemnly. Keng from two days ago was very smart, indeed. That was a hideous shirt.
"So yeah I am NOT interested in this relationship anymore. You're really a sweet guy, Keng. But you're just not for me. I really hope you can get over me. Hope you end up with someone who deserves someone like you!"
…deserves someone like you. He vaguely wondered why that sounded like more of a curse.
Keng started typing: "I'm sorry for not meeting your expectations. Thank you for the well-wishes." And hit send.
The message failed to deliver.
────𓅭────
What surprised Keng was how readily his heart and mind had accepted it all. Keng didn't fancy himself to be someone who would marry for love, so he did not prioritize seeking the emotion. Despite the two—albeit brief—relationships he had experienced, he could not understand why people chased the feeling. He knew love to be stable, to provide security, to be present. And… hadn't he done all of that?
Maia had claimed he was a robot, that he did not seem happy when they held hands, but he could not fathom what that meant. He knew holding hands was a necessary part of a relationship, so he did that. What he did not know was the significance of feeling butterflies too. And that math test? Keng had sat with Maia four days in a row before the test, patiently explaining the formulae and helping her practice for the test. He knew she could do the test on her own so why did she even need help? And about Jane, that had been his own group project assigned by their teacher, so of course he would do his best to ensure the project received the highest marks. This was, after all, how he had mapped out his entire life: study hard so he could get a good job and make money. But regardless of the project and the marks, Keng had made sure to wait for Maia everyday to walk her home, because isn't that what a good boyfriend did?
And Keng always gave everything his all didn't he? His best friend had once told him how important it was to go on dates because maybe that's why Maia dumped him. So, he ensured that he would always, no matter what, have time set aside for dates with Thanya. Keng worked on a fixed schedule, so knowing in advance helped his brain go with the flow. During hectic assignment and exam schedules, the bi-weekly dates with Thanya had been a welcome reprieve, that he looked forward to.
When Thanya had sent him that Instagram video, he had quietly saved it to his phone. From a young age, he had taught himself to save whatever he could. So, for two weeks, he walked home from university to save on the bus fare. And he had specially requested for twenty roses. The average of their birthdates. It had made perfect sense to him. One rose was the difference. Twenty roses. One less was his birthday. One more was hers.
That night he had come home, and taken a lone rose out of his jacket and put it in a small mug of water that he placed on his nightstand. When he woke up the next day, the sight of the rose had made him smile.
He had thought that was what love felt like. Stable. Unassuming. Present. Something that mirrored what his parents had shared. He did not have many expectations of what the emotion felt like, but he was positive he had a bit of it, all around him.
Oh and about that shirt? It was simply hideous. Keng really had no excuse. Thanya had better taste in clothes than he did, but that article was the ugliest thing he had ever seen.
Maybe his past relationships had made him think he was not good dating material, but he hoped he would be good husband material. But all of that was irrelevant, because one thing about Keng was, he was an amazing friend.
So, when the interviewer (because it was an interview! What are you supposed to call a guy who is asking you questions to determine whether you'll be a good flatmate?) asked him if he was in a relationship, he answered simply: "No."
"Um, have you ever been in one?" The man asked awkwardly.
"Twice."
His eyes widened, ever so slightly. "What happened?"
"Didn't work out," he lifted and dropped his shoulders in a shrug. "Not compatible or something."
The man nodded. "Well, you know, one of my friends, he's a really cool guy, he dated this dude who didn't like him hanging out with me." He laughed. It sounded forced to Keng. He was peering at him, as if expecting a reaction. So Keng obliged.
"Is he still dating him?"
"Well, no. Thankfully. Would suck to lose a good friend."
Keng nodded, thoughtfully. "One of my childhood friends dated a guy, who would get jealous when my friend hung out with me. He threatened to breakup if my friend wouldn't stop being my friend. It was very weird. I can't even threaten a fly, let alone someone's relationship. "
His potential-roommate's eyebrows were furrowed. "Your friend…What is their name?" It suddenly hit Keng that even though the interviewer had introduced himself, Keng had promptly forgotten his name.
"Kaew."
"That's a very… common name."
"Yeah. But Kaew likes it, so." He shrugged.
There was a pause as the interviewer stared at him, a confused expression on his face, which prodded Keng to ask him, "Is there something on my face?" He should really ask him what his name is.
The man blinked. "No, uh…"
"What?"
"Your friend—Kaew— is that a guy or a girl?"
Now, it was Keng's turn to blink. "A guy."
The man beamed. "Oh!" He clapped his hands. "Alright! You have passed the test." He put his hand forward. "Welcome, roomie! Feel free to move in, whenever suits you. Do inform me though."
Keng accepted the hand and was surprised at his now-roommate's firm handshake. Then, he decided it was finally time to ask. "Um, what was your name again? Sorry, I'm not good with names."
"At least, you're honest." His roommate laughed. "Full name's Napatsakorn Pingmuang. You can call me 'Namping.'"