Chapter Text
2001
Jack White was playing loudly in her headphones as she tried to balance her art supplies and books, making sure they didn’t fall in front of everyone in the school's crowded hallway.
Every art class was like this: she was always the first to arrive and the last to leave, which meant she never had time to organize her things before the teacher would ask them to leave as quickly as possible so the cleaning staff could clean up for the next class.
“Film!” someone shouted, but she couldn’t hear them.
A boy brushed past her, bumping into her shoulder without even bothering to apologize.
Before she could say anything, the impact made her arms waver, and the mug she’d made in the last class beautifully carved with a lovely sunflower she’d painted herself was already on its way to the floor.
Film closed her eyes, waiting for the impact, but nothing happened.
She opened her eyes slowly, confused and grateful, and right in front of her, Namtan was holding the mug.
“You’re my hero,” she must have said too loudly because some girls looked at her as they walked past them.
The redness that had appeared on Namtan’s cheeks didn’t go at all with her dark lipstick and eyeliner.
She smiled and picked up Film’s things, helping her put them in her bag.
“There, it’s all secure now,” and before Film could even realize it, a flash nearly blinded her.
“Namtan!” she rubbed her eyes. “No photos!”
“It’s your 13th birthday—we have to document it,” Namtan simply said.
Yes, it was Film’s 13th birthday, and she couldn’t hide her excitement; her parents had let her plan everything—the guest list, the music, and even the place.
“I’m going early so I can set up the sound system,” Namtan said, her excited tone clearly evident.
Yeah, Film had let Namtan play at her birthday party. Her friend had a band with her cousin View; they dreamed of leading the next wave of riot grrl.
But in reality, they could only play The White Stripes.
Five months ago, Film thought the idea was awesome. After all, Namtan was her best friend.
But today, she has her concerns. Not because she didn’t recognize Namtan’s potential, but would her other guests like it?
She couldn’t say that to Namtan. Besides, she didn’t know what to do.
“We prepared a song for you,” Namtan whispered, and that caught Film’s attention.
“A song?”
Namtan laughed, a little shy. “It’s a surprise.”
And she bit her lip. Film already knew. 3, 2, 1…
“Okay, I’m going to tell you. It’s…”
Before she could speak, the hallway cleared, causing everyone to look at the girls approaching them.
They were all dressed the same and wore the same makeup but the one who really stood out was the girl in the middle, tall for her age and extremely beautiful.
“Film,” she greeted and looked at Namtan, “Beaver.”
Beside her, she could feel Namtan roll her eyes.
“Hi Mint!” She could hardly believe that Mint was talking to her outside their class room. The most popular girl in school, the girl who, at not even 10 years old, had already appeared in three commercials.
Mint flipped her hair over her shoulders and looked at Film with a fake sad expression. “So, about your birthday…”
“I’m so excited you’re coming,” Film couldn’t contain her enthusiasm, and the girls behind Mint giggled, making her blush.
With a forced smile, Mint continued, “We were super excited to go to your party, but we have a boring literature paper to write about Sir Quixote or something…”
“Don Quixote,” Namtan corrected her quietly.
“Anyway, we won’t be able to go. Nanon will also have to write his paper, so…” Film’s heart skipped a beat when he heard Nanon’s name. “Well, that’s it. We’re really sorry.”
Film bit her lip as she watched the girl turn away. That was it. If Mint wasn’t going to her party, no one else was going either.
She looked at Namtan, her pout already forming, and as if reading her thoughts, her friend sighed and rolled her eyes.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
“Mint!” Film shouted, and when the girl turned around, a victorious smile was already spreading across her lips. “We’ve got you.”
“Great, see you there, then!”
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“I can’t believe you invited those girls,” Namtan said.
“They’re my friends.”
“They’re not your friends,” Namtan said, slightly annoyed. “They’re nobody’s friends but their own.”
“Well, one day I’ll be friends with them.” Film didn’t like when Namtan talked like that. What’s wrong with wanting to be friends with Mint?
Namtan rolled her eyes. “I hope that never happens. You’re way more original than those clones.”
“I don’t want to be original. I want to be cool.”
She wanted to sound more annoyed, but in reality, it came out more like a prayer, and was pathetic. If Namtan noticed, she didn’t say anything. She never said anything.
“You’re literally the coolest person I know, Film.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled. Namtan didn’t know that many people anyway, Besides, it was part of the Official Friendship Agreement to say things like that.
“You didn’t say what you rehearsed.” Film decided to change the subject; she didn’t want to fight with Namtan on her birthday.
Namtan seemed taken aback by the change of subject. “It’s a surprise.”
She shrugged, but smiled anyway, and the two began walking toward their homes.
Namtan spoke first:
“Arrivederci.”
And Film replied:
“Au revoir.”
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At home, her parents had left the basement to her and locked themselves in their bedroom. For a moment, Film actually considered doing it
Eventually, she gave them two free passes so they could move around their own house. However, the basement was off limits.
She looked around at the room, which had been organized to look unorganized. As if the way the snacks and cool magazines were spread out were completely natural.
“Happy birthday, Film,” she heard from the stairs.
Namtan was carrying a huge box covered with nothing but a pink bow.
“What’s that?”
Namtan set the box down on the floor. “Well, this is one of your gifts today.”
She knelt down beside it, and Film joined her: “You know how you’ve always wanted your dream house? Now you have it.”
Namtan lifted the box, revealing the gift, and Film’s breath caught in her throat.
It was Barbie's Dream House, but way cooler. She could see miniature pieces of furniture that Film knew Namtan had made by herself. There was a living room, a kitchen, a dining room, and Film’s own bedroom, complete with photos of models and famous paintings. Not to mention a huge closet, of course.
“That's you.” Film smiled when she realized she was in a bathtub, with a perfectly cropped photo of her face, holding a magazine. “Your CD collection, your cats, and of course, your closet with all the best clothes ever made.”
Film allowed her gaze to wander around the room, still amazed by the details. Namtan definitely spent months building all that.
Her attention shifted to the living room as she saw Namtan. Film didn’t even know where Namtan had gotten a full-body photo of herself, but she did. With a camera hanging around her neck, holding a bag of cat food, there was her best friend.
“And that’s me, making sure your cats don’t starve.”
Her heart warmed with every detail she noticed; everything was handmade, everything designed just for her. The way the house was surrounded by Film’s favorite paintings, along with some she’d painted herself. Even her room was an almost perfect miniature of her real bedroom, with posters and images of the moon and the planets.
Her gaze drifted upward, above her mini-bedroom; the attic was arranged to resemble a small art studio. There were workbenches and shelves with miniature paints and brushes, as well as canvas of different sizes.
“You even made a studio,” Film whispered, more to herself than to Namtan.
“You love to paint.”
“This is incredible, Namtan,” she said in awe.
Namtan smiled, her ears turning slightly pink, then she widened her eyes. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she said, pulling a small packet out of her pocket. “Wishing dust to make your wishes come true.”
Namtan opened it and sprinkled the glittering dust onto the house’s roof.
Film closed her eyes and wished for her friends to show up at her party.
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The party was scheduled for 4:00 p.m.
It was already 4:15 p.m.
So far, only Namtan, View, and a boy who had been her partner on a chemistry project had arrived.
She’d invited practically the whole school, so someone had to show up. Besides, Mint said she’d come since Namtan had done her literature project. She, her clones, and Nanon should already be on their way.
Film wasn’t annoyed because Namtan and View were talking while they plugged in those stupid cables.
No. She wasn’t annoyed because of that. She had nothing against View because she knew that Namtan, above all else, was her friend first.
Film was just about to go over and talk to Namtan when she heard the doorbell upstairs ringing impatiently.
She widened her eyes and looked around, everything remained the same. Except for Namtan’s gift.
Film picked up the house carefully but quickly and put it in the closet. She certainly didn’t notice Namtan watching her as she ran up the stairs.
When she opened the door, she was slightly out of breath. “Hi, welcome!”
She wanted to slap herself; wasn’t she supposed to say something cooler than that?
Mint looked her up and down, and Film fought the urge to cross her arms, feeling embarrassed.
She was wearing Namtan’s Gorillaz t-shirt. She loved that shirt and had begged Namtan to let her borrow it.
But now she wanted to take it off and throw it away.
“Cool pajamas,” Mint said, making her clones giggle.
Stupid Gorillaz t-shirt.
“Good thing I brought you a present,” she continued, handing Film a wrapped package.
Maybe Film grabbed it a little too hard and opened the package even more eagerly.
The shirt was exactly like the one Mint and her clones were wearing, pink, with sleeves (because it was hot outside and, of course, you’re supposed to wear sleeves) and the cut left her shoulders exposed.
The girl in front of her didn’t even have to say anything; Film thanked her, asked them to go ahead, and ran to her room.
Namtan wouldn’t care about the different shirt.
In her room, the first thought that crossed Film’s mind was how strange the shirt looked on her. She looked down; the shirt was as flat as a board.
She bit her lip and glanced over her shoulder at the bathroom door, which was half open. She had an awkward idea.
Looking at the shirt, which now fit a little better thanks to Film’s new acquisition (thank God for the toilet paper), she smiled proudly, trying not to think about how the paper pricked her skin.
When she turned around, her mother was standing in the doorway. She was smiling, but her smile turned into a confusing look when she saw Namtan’s t-shirt thrown on top of the bed.
When she looked back at Film, the girl wanted to die. “Nice shirt.”
“It was a gift,” she explained, walking past her mother. Did she notice her bra stuffed with paper?
Over her shoulder, Film snapped at her, “And that’s the second pass.”
Back in the basement, Film avoided looking at Namtan and walked over to Mint, proudly showing off her birthday present.
“It looks perfect on you,” she replied and turned around. “Don’t you think so, Nanon?”
Film couldn’t hear his reply because Namtan’s guitar interrupted him.
She turned around with a frown, but it melted away as soon as she saw her friend looking so badass with the guitar hanging from her body. “So, we’ve prepared something for you, Film,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.
Film couldn’t hold back a smile; she began to feel her heart racing.
Namtan looked at View and nodded; the girl nodded back, and then the magic happened.
The powerful, aggressive roar burst from the guitar, and Film felt it throughout her entire body.
Namtan took a step forward, “Fell in love with a girl/Fell in love once and almost completely…”
Film watched her friend, still not believing Namtan had chosen to play that song. She’d been obsessed with that song for months, ever since she and Namtan had found the album at that old but trendy record store.
The sound was nothing like the studio version; it was just Namtan playing and View trying to keep up on the keyboard , but she was absolutely amazed.
“I said: I must be fine cause my heart’s still beating/Come and kiss me by the riverside/Bobby says it’s fine, he don’t consider–”
And then everything went silent. She noticed her friend’s confused expression and looked to the side, trying to figure out what had caused it all.
Near the wires connecting the speaker, Nanon stared at the floor, where the cables were unplugged from the outlet.
He looked at Film, guilt written all over his face. “Oops.”
Film could see Namtan’s fists clenching around her guitar as she heard some giggles, she knew exactly where they were coming from.
“I’m really sorry.”
“You did that on purpose!” she heard View shout as she rushed toward the boy.
“If you ruined her instruments…” she snapped at him.
“It was an accident, I swear!”
“I don’t believe that!”
“He already said it was an accident,” Mint’s voice cut in as she rolled her eyes. “What a drama queen.”
Film wanted to sink into the ground. Her party wasn't supposed to turn out like this.
“View,” Namtan called her friend, her voice calm as always. “View, it’s okay. These things happen.”
The girl shot Namtan an annoyed look and then gave in, her expression softening.
“I have another cable at home.”
And she went towards the stairs, View following her. Before going up, she glanced at Film, who responded with a muttered “thank you.”
“And don’t forget our paper!” Mint called out before Namtan disappeared completely. She looked at Film and smiled. “We can’t say your party is boring.”
Film even tried to feel relieved, but her anxiety grew when she saw Mint rubbing her chin lightly as she considered the possibilities that place offered.
Her eyes sparkled when they landed on the closet.
She looked at Film playfully, “Since our private show was interrupted, how about we put it on our own?”
Film tried to ignore how the clones started giggling like they already knew what Mint was planning to do.
Film cleared her throat, “Do– Do you know how to play any instruments?”
“No, silly. Not that kind of show. I’m talking about another one.” She pointed at the closet. “Seven minutes in heaven.”
Film wasn’t stupid. She knew what game that was.
Everyone at school had already played it. Except her.
She could already feel her palms sweating, the toilet paper stinging even more.
“Have you played it before?”
Film stumbled, “Y– Yes.”
“Okay. Then I don’t need to explain,” she said, looking around. “You’re first because it’s your birthday.”
Film’s vision was cut off when Mint tied a scarf over her eyes; she gently pushed Film toward the closet.
“And as a birthday present, Nanon will be the first to join in” Mint whispered in Film’s ear, making her heart start to beat faster.
Inside the closet, unable to see a thing, Film felt as if her heart were about to jump out of her chest.
You don’t have to do anything, Film… But it’s Nanon who’s going to walk through that door, so…
She placed her hand over her chest, trying to calm herself down.
Feeling the lump, she felt her face grow hot. “Oh my God,” she said, and pulled the papers out of her bra.
Outside, Namtan arrived just as Mint was whispering to Nanon, who was laughing and covering his mouth. She scanned the room. No sign of Film.
“Where’s Film?”
“Did you bring the papers?” Namtan nodded and handed them to Mint. “Great. Film’s in the closet, and she asked you to join her there.”
Namtan frowned. Something didn’t feel right. She looked at the other people in the basement. They had definitely set Film up. Maybe she was trapped, maybe she was crying. She shouldn’t have left Film alone with those idiots.
“If you did something to her…”
“Me?” Mint pretended to be offended. “She just said to tell you to go see her.”
Namtan narrowed her eyes for a moment, but finally gave in. Film needed her.
She clenched her jaw and walked toward the door; she didn’t even notice as the group slowly made their way toward the stairs. The door opened with a soft click; on the floor, Film was sitting with a scarf covering her eyes.
Namtan felt her throat go dry; she licked her lips to speak, but was cut off by Film’s timid voice, “You really came.”
Film raised her hands, and Namtan swallowed hard. “Where are you, Nanon?”
“It’s not Nanon.” Namtan whispered, feeling her voice crack.
At that moment, Film ripped the scarf from her face, frustration taking hold of her. “Where’s Nanon?”
Namtan stood up: “He’s gone. Everyone’s gone.”
She could see reality sink in in Film’s eyes. Then turned to something between anger and hurt. And unfortunately for her, she was the only one there.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing!”
“Liar, you did!” Film stepped forward toward her and then looked at the empty basement.
“I swear!”
“Go away!” She didn’t know she had that much strength to push Namtan, but she did, and she saw the heartbroken expression on her friend’s face.
But nothing mattered. Nothing was worse than her own pain.
“Film!”
The loud bang when Film slammed the door surely must have caught her parent's attention by then.
“Film, you need to listen to me!”
“Go away. I hate you. I hate myself. I hate everyone!” She could feel her scarf getting soaked with her tears.
She could no longer understand what Namtan was saying; she just couldn’t stop crying.
“I want to be thirty, flirty and thriving. I want to be thirty, flirty and thriving..”
And taking this as a prayer, shaken and heartbroken, Film didn’t notice the sparkling dust falling from above.
I want to be thirty, flirty and thriving.
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2018
Despite the soft bed, Film woke up with a headache and a sense of darkness.
She didn’t know how she’d ended up in her bed. Maybe her dad had carried her. Or maybe she’d gone there on her own, but she was too sad to remember.
She kicked off the blankets in protest and rolled over, ready to find Jojo, her teddy bear. Or rather, her emotional support.
It turned out it wasn’t Jojo she felt. It was the floor.
She cursed, forgetting that her parents might hear her. Film crawled until she felt the door, and finally, the doorknob.
Everything was silent and dark. Why the heck was she still wearing that scarf?
Half annoyed and half sleepy, Film dragged the scarf across her face. The light in the house blinded her more than she’d expected. Since when had the hallway been so bright?
Blinking a few times, Film then realized she was in an unfamiliar hallway.
She felt a tightness in her stomach. “Mom?”
Silence.
“Dad?”
Nothing.
She walked down the hallway; the wooden floor was so shiny that if Film wanted to, she could see her reflection in it. The walls were decorated with elegant paintings that surely cost a fortune.
Where was she? Where had her parents went? What was going on?
Film kept walking, feeling her heart beat way too fast. She gasped when she came upon a huge living room that was definitely not her living room. And certainly not her house. It was an apartment.
The view of sunny Bangkok greeted her.
This could only be a dream. Had to be a dream.
She closed her eyes and spun around. Then she pinched herself, letting out a whistle of pain.
There. That’ll wake me up.
And as she slowly opened her eyes, Film realized she was face-to-face with a woman she’d never seen in her life.
She screamed and took a few steps back; not noticing the large plant pot behind her, Film stumbled and fell backward.
What the hell was going on?!
When she opened her eyes again, the woman was gone.
Great, now I’m even imagining people.
Annoyed by that prank, Film stood up and… The woman appeared again.
The scream was already forming in her throat; she opened her mouth, and the woman opened hers too.
When Film raised her hand to rub her eyes, the woman mimicked her.
When Film turned around, the woman turned around too.
And when Film screamed, the woman screamed too.
“It can’t be,” she repeated as she stepped closer.
In disbelief, Film poked her face while the woman kept repeating the same thing.
This was definitely the strangest dream she’d ever had.
She was older, her hair was longer, and the bangs she’d had as a teenager were gone. She smiled, showing her teeth, all perfectly aligned and with no signs of her braces.
Then her gaze lowered, and she gasped when she saw them. “Boobs!”
Turning her attention back to her face, she frowned. She was as short as always.
“Good morning, baby girl. You’re awake,” she heard a woman’s voice behind her.
Startled, Film turned around to find a woman wearing only a towel. She was tall, with long, black hair that was still dripping wet.
“W–Who are you?”
“Oh, we’re still in roleplay,” she said, taking a few steps toward Film.
She really didn’t like the way the woman was staring at her; it made Film feel naked.
“N-naked! You’re naked!”
“Oh, babe, I’m not, but I could be.”
It all happened so fast. The woman pulled the white towel off just as Film turned around.
What a crazy woman!
She didn’t have time to think straight; she ran toward the door she’d just walked through.
“Film!” She jumped at the sound of the woman’s voice calling through the door.
“Y—You need to leave!”
“You know I love this stuff, but we don’t have time for this!”
“Go away!”
“Okay. Lucky for you, I have stuff to do,” and with her ear pressed against the door, Film could hear the woman’s footsteps fading away.
She slid through the door and sighed.
This was truly the craziest dream she’d ever had. And she was taking a long time to wake up from it.
Had she fallen asleep inside that closet? Hadn’t her parents gone looking for her? Had Namtan…
Namtan!
Film let out a groan, remembering how she’d treated her best friend. She’d definitely have to come up with an excuse as big as the moon for Namtan.
Or maybe bribe her with 100 little bags of Razzles.
Without realizing how long she’d been listing the possible bribes she’d have to offer Namtan, Film finally decided to leave the room. After a few minutes with her ear pressed against the door, listening for any sound that might indicate the crazy woman was still in the apartment, she stepped out.
The first thing that caught her eye was the mail on the coffee table, all addressed to her.
Oh, and of course, the apartment was also full of pictures of Film. Either she lived there, or it belonged to someone who was obsessed with her.
In other words, that gigantic apartment was hers. Film’s.
How had she managed to pay for it?
An unidentified sound started playing, and she looked around.
Then, on top of the couch, an object about the size of her palm appeared with the word “assistant” on it.
She approached it, confused; it looked like a cell phone, but where the heck were the buttons?
The screen went dark, and in the reflection, Film could see the line on her forehead.
When someone turned the doorknob, Film let the strange object fall from her hand. Was the strange woman back? She didn’t want to see it to believe it, so she jumped behind the couch.
Then, “Khun?”
Film didn’t recognize the voice. It was softer, different from the woman’s before but still a stranger’s.
“Hello?”
Strangers should stop barging into her dreams like this. How disrespectful.
“Why are you there?”
Film screamed in surprise, and in her panic her forehead hit the furniture.
What a nightmare.
Massaging her forehead, Film stood up awkwardly and turned to the voice's owner. A woman about her height and perhaps a little younger than her stared back at her, looking confused.
“Hi.”
“Hi, Khun Film. Why were you hiding?”
Film bit inside of her cheek, feeling ridiculous now.
She cleared her throat, trying to appear calm. “How did you get in here?”
The woman blinked and took a step back. “I know you hate when I come up, but I called and…”
“You’re the assistant!” Film announced too loudly and pointed at the strange device on her couch.
Something flashed across the woman’s eyes, something that made Film sense she hadn’t liked being called that at all.
That hadn’t confirmed anything, but since she hadn’t denied it, she must be the assistant, which meant she knew what was going on. “Is this my apartment?”
“What?” she asked, stepping closer to Film again. Film took a few steps back.
Suspiciously, she asked, “Are you hungover?”
Film blinked. The words took a while to reach her functioning brain cells.
When she finally understood, she panicked, “What? No! My mom would kill me!”
“Okay...”
“And besides, I can’t. I’m thirteen” Film said, straightening her pajama top.
“Okay, if you’re going to lie about your age, twenty-five is more acceptable.”
“But I’m telling the truth—” She tried to reply, but was interrupted by a ring.
The woman reached into her purse and pulled out a device just like Film’s, put it to her ear, and turned her back on Film.
“Yes, I already went to pick it up. . . I’ve confirmed her presence. . .”
Film followed the woman, whoever she was, she had the answers Film needed. She moved a little closer, leaning in to hear what she was saying.
Someone on the phone called her ‘Bo’ something; Film couldn’t figure out the rest.
“She’ll be there, don’t worry,” she said, hanging up the phone and turning around suddenly, leaving Film no time to step back. She jumped back in surprise, nearly bumping into another plant.
With a sigh, the woman put her phone away. “Okay, apparently last night was a wild one. You definitely partied harder than you should have. I’ll postpone the photos until tomorrow, but I need you to pull yourself together for tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Did you forget?” Film could almost see her rolling her eyes. “You forgot. The launch of the perfume you’re the ambassador for. The dress is by the door, and I’ll let you know when the makeup artists arrive.”
With that, she looked back at her phone, her fingers moving quickly.
“And please answer the phone when I call,” she said without looking up. “It makes my job easier.”
Film stared at her, still trying to process every word the woman had said; she could feel a headache coming on. Without looking at Film, the woman began walking toward the door.
Still overwhelmed by all that information in such a short time, she still had a few more questions.
Film stood up suddenly, trying to remember the name she’d heard on the phone.
Come on, it started with Bo—
“Bonnie!”
The woman stopped abruptly, looking a little alarmed. “Yes?”
“Where are my parents?”
Unable to roll her eyes, Bonnie just blinked.
“On the cruise. You asked me not to let you know if they called.”
She lowered her gaze, feeling guilty.
Except, Film didn’t have time to feel guilty. She needed to find someone to help her.
“Bonnie?
“Yes?”
“Can you do me a big favor?”
“That’s my job.”
Film smiled and ran over to her. “I need you to find Namtan Tipnaree Weerawatnodom for me.”
The younger woman raised her eyebrows and looked at Film’s cell phone on the couch. Film followed her look, feeling embarrassed.
Still, after a few minutes that felt like centuries to Film, the younger woman spoke.
“I’ve found four people with that name. I’m sending them to you.”
Film felt her heart beat even faster at the woman’s reply. She asked her to wait and, looking around, found a notebook and a pen.
As Film jotted down the numbers, the woman stared at her almost with pity.
This was definitely a hangover. But in the end, she smiled. At least Film was suffering.
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Film was about to give up.
She’d called three numbers so far, and none of them were her friend.
Well, none of them sounded like Namtan.
Not that she knew how Namtan was supposed to sound after all these years. But that wasn’t the point.
Of course, Film would recognize Namtan’s voice, even with seventeen years and puberty in between.
Back to the calls, the first person who answered sounded young; Film started by saying her name. She thought that was a great idea. The person responded she knew her. Film’s heart filled with hope until she heard the other person call her Finn.
She said goodbye and hung up.
The second person had a deep voice. Film didn’t hang up until she heard someone call him “uncle” in the background.
She said there was a mistake, said goodbye, and hung up.
With the third person, she didn’t even say hello; she just started listing random events that she knew Namtan would recognize if she were on the line.
The person cursed at her and hung up.
She knew she needed to find Namtan, her real Namtan, before the event Bonnie mentioned.
So she pressed the number and, biting her nails, waited for the phone to ring.
This had to be the one.
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When she left the store, Namtan was ready for anything.
Courage was running through her veins. The day seemed brighter, more beautiful; people seemed happier. Even the birdsong was louder against Bangkok’s urban noise.
She could feel the warmth from the little box in her pocket.
Of course, she wasn’t going to just leave it carelessly in a shopping bag. That would be way too obvious.
So she slipped the little box inside her jeans pocket and tried to make her way to her car without shouting out her grand plan.
Namtan stopped as soon as she felt her phone buzz, and without looking at the screen, already knowing who it was, she answered.
“So?”
“So what?”
“Oh, don’t play dumb, Namtan, just tell me already,” View’s impatient voice made her smile.
“Everything went perfectly. And it’s beautiful.”
She could swear she heard a robotic squeal on the other line.
“Am I on speakerphone?”
“No, you’re on speakerphone while I’m on another call with Mim.”
Mim’s robotic voice drew another smile from Namtan. “I can’t stop smiling!”
“Well, I already picked it up, and it’s beautiful,” she replied, and suddenly began to feel nervous. “Do you think I was too rushed?”
Namtan could have sworn her friend was rolling her eyes before replying, “You’ve been dating for two years, which, in sapphic years, is equivalent to six years, so no, you’re not rushing into anything.”
“On the contrary, you’re taking too long.” Mim’s robotic voice finished.
Namtan scratched the back of her neck. Ever since that idea crossed her mind, she’d made dozens of lists of pros and cons, and until six months ago, she had a long list of cons.
She didn’t want to think about it too much. If she kept thinking about it, she’d surely turn around and return the little box.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop by your place later to gossip. I’ll make sure to bring Emi along.”
“Oh my God, Emi is going to freak out!” View said, entertained.
“And that’s exactly what I want, so no talking to her first, okay?” Namtan said firmly, as if she were speaking face-to-face with her friends. “Got it, Mim?”
“P’View is the one who likes to gossip, not me.”
That got a fake but amusing reaction out of her friend.
Namtan said goodbye to them and kept walking toward her car.
Another ring made her stop with her hand on the car door.
She rolled her eyes, but in a friendly way.
View really was a gossiper.
With a smile, she answered the call, ready for Emi’s reaction.
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The phone took what felt like an eternity to ring for Film; on the fifth ring, someone picked up.
“Hi, Emi” the voice was soft and calm, as if she were smiling.
Film held her breath.
“Namtan?” Film didn’t want to sound insecure, but her tone ended up coming across as hesitant. “Namtan Tipnaree?”
“Yes, that’s me” the woman replied, her tone changing.
Film wet her lips; she needed to know if the right person had picked up the phone. “Your favorite T-shirt is the Gorillaz one, and you used to play guitar in middle school…”
What was she supposed to say? Just blurt it out?
“What? Y-Yes,” the woman stumbled. “Who’s this?”
“Film” Her mouth felt dry; she was too nervous and too happy to decide what to say. “It’s me, Namtan.”
There was silence on the line. Long enough for Film to hold the phone away from her ear to check if the call was still connected.
“Namtan?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, but I’m not following,” Namtan sounded confused over the phone; a car horn blared through the line, making Film’s shoulders jump slightly. “Who’s this?”
“Film,” she repeated, her voice filled with relief. As if, finally, after this whole day, she could say her name to someone she knew and who truly knew her.
The line went silent again. Film realized it later as her relief turned to anxiety with every passing second.
Had the call dropped?
“Namtan, are you still there?” she asked again.
When Namtan answered, it wasn’t exactly what Film had expected. “Very funny, View.”
View?
“Aren’t you a little too old for pranks?” Namtan scolded her.
Film snorted. “It’s not a prank. It’s really me. Film.”
The line fell silent again. And Film wanted to cry.
“No way” and somehow, now Namtan seemed to understand.
“Way.” She exhaled slowly.
Hadn’t she and Namtan been out of touch for this long?
“What? How?” Namtan asked; someone spoke to her, and with the sound muffled, she mumbled an apology.
Film knew they wouldn’t get anywhere this way. She took a deep breath, an inexplicable courage filling her chest. That's how it felt to be 30?
Apparently so because Film got straight to the point: “Can we meet up?”
“Now?”
“Preferably,” and just like the other times, there was silence on the line but only for a few seconds.
“Are you– Are you in Bangkok?”
Film nodded, then realized that Namtan couldn’t see her. “Yes, you too?”
“Yes.”
Namtan sent her an address, a coffee shop that she promised wasn’t too far away.
Film almost clapped her hands, but unfortunately, she was holding her phone.
“See you in 30 minutes,” she said, barely containing the joy in her voice.
Film was already putting her phone away when she heard Namtan called her. “Yes?”
Her voice was quiet, cautious even when she spoke again, “Is that really you, Film?”
The woman broke into a big smile. “Yes, it’s me.”
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Luckily for Film, the coffee shop was practically on the same street as her apartment. Yes, that was the level Film had reached: a large, beautiful apartment in the center of Bangkok.
While she waited for Namtan, she started thinking about what to say. Could she tell the truth?
“So, yesterday I was thirteen, and today I woke up… well, not thirteen.”
No, she couldn’t say that. Who would believe her?
Namtan might, she was her best friend, wasn’t she?
Still, Film could assume that, judging by the way Namtan spoke on the phone, she wasn’t expecting her call at all. And if she wasn’t expecting it, then maybe they couldn’t be as close as they used to be.
But why? The idea of a future without Namtan in her life was simply not possible. A future which was now a reality, with the possibility that Namtan might not be her friend anymore.
No, I can’t tell her the truth. But what should I say?
“I was in an accident and I don’t remember anything.”
Actually, that wouldn’t be so bad. Accidents happen, and she’d read somewhere that sometimes an accident can cause short-term memory loss.
Film suddenly felt even smaller. Although the coffee shop wasn’t big, the atmosphere was cozy, and it wasn’t too crowded.
Even so, she felt suffocated. And terribly hot. She tried to check the air conditioners to see if they were all on. She was already beginning to feel a thin, almost imperceptible layer of sweat forming on her forehead.
What was she going to say to Namtan?
In any case, she didn’t have any more time because Namtan had just arrived.
Film spotted the waiter from earlier, and when she raised her hand to call him over, she noticed he was leading someone else. The man pointed at her and stepped away from the woman.
Film’s breath caught in her throat.
The woman was tall, her hair tied back in a ponytail, and she wore glasses. She was dressed casually, only in jeans and a striped top.
Film was unsure, but when the woman slid her glasses up her nose, she was convinced.
Namtan.
Her Namtan, who was now taller; her once chubby, soft cheeks had given way to more defined, smooth, rosy cheekbones.
She stopped for a moment as soon as she spotted Film.
Something flashed across her eyes and then disappeared.
Recognition? Curiosity? Pain? Film couldn’t tell.
Moving slowly and cautiously toward Film, Namtan looked like an animal examining its new surroundings.
Or someone who was walking into a prank.
Film really struggled with the urge to pull her into a hug when she finally reached the table.
“Namtan,” she breathed with a sense of relief she only realized when the words reached her ears.
She noticed the way Namtan swallowed, her throat bobbing up and down.
“It's really you,” she simply stated incredulously and sat down facing Film.
Up close, Namtan looked even more different from the teenager Film had seen just yesterday.
Film also noticed the now shapely, muscular arms her friend Namtan was showing off. Definitely, she was no longer that teenager from before.
Thankfully, a waiter approached the two of them, ready to take their orders, just as Namtan’s voice cut through the turmoil of her thoughts: “An Aperol Spritz.”
Film raised her eyebrows slightly; she knew what that drink was. Yes, an alcoholic drink.
“Namtan,” she called out, her voice coming out a little high-pitched, but the woman in front of her paid her no attention, instead giving instructions to the server on how strong her drink should be.
“A Coke, please,” Film ordered when the server turned his attention to her. The man wrote down the orders and walked away.
When she turned back to Namtan, Namtan had her hands buried in her hair. Film didn’t know exactly what to say, so she just stood there staring at her friend.
I mean, as far as she was concerned, Namtan was still her friend, but judging by the way she’d been acting ever since she arrived and met Film, something told her they weren’t quite as close as they used to be.
Namtan finally seemed to snap out of her spiral and slowly lowered her hands, finally looking at Film.
She must have noticed the look of desperation on Film’s face. “I’m sorry, it’s just… It’s weird.”
“Why?”
“Because I wasn’t expecting a call from you at 3:42 p.m. on a random Tuesday.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t expect you to have my number.”
“Why?”
“Because, Film, we haven’t spoken in seventeen years.”
This takes Film by surprise. Seventeen years?
Film tilted her head, mentally doing the math.
“Since we were thirteen, right?” She whispered. Namtan frowned but nodded in agreement. “Except I’m thirteen.”
Namtan blinked.
Film sighed in defeat, knowing she couldn’t move forward without telling the whole truth. She was going to tell her everything; if Namtan believed her, great. If not, well, she hadn’t thought about that yet.
“I’m serious, Namtan. I know it sounds crazy, but I woke up today as a 30-year-old, even though last night I had just turned thirteen.”
She paused. Listening to herself, she realized just how crazy that sounded.
As soon as their orders arrived, Namtan grabbed her drink and took a long, lingering sip.
Finally, with a frown, Namtan let out just a “What?”
Film was almost certain the entire restaurant could hear her heart pounding. She was starting to tremble, too.
“What?” Namtan repeated.
“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s the truth. Yesterday I was thirteen, and now I’m thirty, living in a big, beautiful apartment in the heart of Bangkok.”
Namtan blinked a few times, still holding her glass. Something flashed across her eyes and then, she slowly set the glass down; she leaned toward Film, lowering her voice so that only Film could hear, “Look, I’m not going to judge you, but are you high on something? Again, I’m not judging, you do you…”
“Namtan!” Film was sure she’d spoken too loudly, drawing the attention of a few nearby tables. “I’m not high!”
Namtan didn’t seem convinced. “Mushrooms? I read about that once…”
She thinks about fighting back, about proving to Namtan that what she’s saying was the truth, but nothing comes out, just a choked sound like a cry of frustration and a sob.
A cough came on as she struggled to breathe. Her chest began to tighten.
Great, she was going to die without seeing her parents, without knowing what the hell happened in her life, and right in front of Namtan.
She starts to feel dizzy when she notices Namtan’s presence beside her.
Namtan was saying something, but she couldn’t quite understand, too busy trying to breathe. Somehow, her hand found something, and she grabbed it; even with a layer of clothing between them, it felt warm and surprisingly muscular.
That’s what she used to do when she was nervous. She’d use Namtan’s arm as a stress ball.
“Drink,” she heard Namtan’s voice and noticed a glass in front of her. Slowly, she pulled one of her hands away from Namtan’s arm.
Film didn’t notice, but Namtan gulped a few times. Her body had been tense ever since Film grabbed her arm, just as she used to do years ago when she was under stress.
Namtan glanced around, even though she knew no one there had the slightest idea what was going on, let alone knew their history. But she still wanted to make sure. When Film put the glass down, she gently pulled her arm away and returned to her seat.
Film immediately missed her touch.
Namtan cleared her throat. “Hmm, let’s say I believe you and it’s the truth—”
“It’s the truth!”
“Okay, okay, the truth,” she agreed, though she wasn’t entirely convinced. “You don’t remember anything?”
Film shook her head; she knew she was pouting right now.
“Nothing at all?”
“Nothing, Namtan. I told you, I woke up today and it seems like there’s a whole life going on, and I don’t remember a thing.”
Film began to feel depressed, the truth finally hitting her hard. She has a life that she doesn’t remember building.
“And to make things worse, my parents are on a cruise,” she lamented, lowering her head.
Silence fell over the table again, and Film even began to suspect Namtan had left her. She slowly raised her head to check and found the other woman typing on her phone.
She put her phone away and looked at Film, her expression much softer now. “Come on, I’ll update you on everything.”
That made Film break into a satisfied smile. And the tightness in her chest began to loosen. She stood up, and Film followed her.
Standing in front of her friend, Film pointed out, amused, “You’re taller.”
She didn’t notice how Namtan’s ears had become slightly red.
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Film stopped suddenly; someone walked past her, yelling at her, but she couldn’t have cared less. “Did we ever see each other again?”
Namtan looked away. “You know, life happened. We went to different colleges.”
“Not even on holidays?” Film asked, and Namtan just shook her head.
This was way too strange for Film. Why on earth had she stopped being friends with Namtan? They were best friends!
“But you tried to get in touch, right? After a few years?” Film asked hopefully.
Namtan looked away.
“Really?”
“I saw you during Songkran about six years ago.”
“Six years ago?”
Film ran her hands over her face; none of this made any sense.
“Is this the place?” she heard Namtan ask.
Looking at the building, she still couldn’t believe this was her place.
Then her eyes widened.
“Can you come in with me?” She only realized there was a certain urgency in her question once she heard it herself.
Namtan opened her mouth, looking back and forth between the building and Film.
Finally, she sighed and nodded.
By the time they reached Film’s apartment, Namtan was bombarded with questions about everything from what pets she had now to how to use a phone without buttons.
In Film’s defense, seventeen years of her life and the world had passed, and she didn’t remember a thing.
She opened the door slowly; she still hadn’t gotten over the tall, very naked woman in her apartment. She called out, “Anyone here?” which drew a confused look from Namtan, but she could explain later.
In any case, the apartment was empty. Film let out a relieved sigh.
Namtan noticed how super clean and untouched the apartment looked for someone who actually lived there. She remembered how Film’s room used to be filled with posters, paintings, and cold-glazed ceramic pieces that she loved to make in art class.
The apartment now had nothing to do with the Film she’d once been friends with.
But they hadn’t spoken in quite some time; Film had changed, just as she had.
Sitting on the couch, looking completely lost, Film waited for Namtan.
“And now for the most depressing years of my life,” Namtan offered her phone (with no buttons!) to Film. “Here.”
Film noticed the distance Namtan had left between them when she sat down on the couch, but she decided she already had too much to think about for today.
On the phone’s screen was a different Film, younger, still wearing braces, with a few girls by her side.
She brought the phone closer.
Was that…?
“Am I hugging Mint?!” she almost shouted. “Were we friends?”
“Yep.”
“I wonder what happened to her,” Film commented.
“Last I heard, you two were still best friends. You even worked together at the same modeling agency.”
Namtan didn’t want to reveal that, even after all this time, she still knew a lot about Film’s life. Mainly because it was embarrassing to still know things about someone who didn’t even remember she existed.
Her finger swiped to the side. In another photo she was hugging a boy.
“Me and Nanon?!” she whispered. “Did we date?”
“Yep.”
As her thumb swiped across the screen, Film could see a life she didn’t remember.
Not only had she become friends with Mint, but she was also, apparently, very close to Nanon.
No. She and Nanon had dated.
The screen froze on the last photo; her light blue uniform was covered with stickers, Post-its with notes, and signatures. She couldn’t help but smile when she looked at Namtan, the woman was looking the other way.
Film didn’t know what to say, so she just said, “This is all… amazing.”
Namtan looked at her; her expression was… well, there was nothing amazing about it. Film wasn’t quite sure how to describe it. She gave a toothless smile, clearly forced, and stood up.
“Yeah, your high school days were amazing,” she said flatly, walked over to Film, and picked up her phone from the side table.
“And where are you?”
“What?”
“In these photos, where are you?” With me, she wanted to say, but didn’t.
Even with her back turned, she could hear Namtan’s humorless laugh.
“I was in the background,” she replied. “Always in the background.”
Before Film could ask, the conversation was invaded by a ringing phone.
“I’ll let you answer.” Namtan murmured, still avoiding her eyes.
Film wanted to say something, but couldn’t. She was stopped by the screen name on her phone.
Bonnie.
“Is everything ready for tonight?”
“What’s happening tonight?”
“Exactly,” Bonnie sighed on the other line. “The party, remember?”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. I’ll have the limo pick you up at 7 p.m.…”
“Limo?”
“That’s what you asked for, wasn’t it? The makeup team will be arriving in 20 minutes.”
Even though she’d hung up rudely without saying goodbye, Film smiled.
This was her life now. She was a brand ambassador, her apartment was bigger than the house she grew up in, and she went to events in limousines.
On top of that, her middle and high school years had been straight out of a fairy tale. She was cool, popular, and had dated the hottest guy in school, not to mention her friendship with Mint.
She couldn’t hold back her happiness; her excitement took over, and she literally stood up and did little jumps in the air.
“I can’t believe this is my life!”
When she looked at Namtan, the woman was already looking back at her. She smiled, but didn't reach her eyes.
“Cool, I’m glad you’re back to being yourself,” she pointed to the door, “I have to go.”
“Already?”
“I have some photos to take.”
“You’re a photographer?”
What kind of friend was she who didn't even ask what was going on in Namtan's life?
“Yeah, it pays the bills,” she paused, tilting her head. “Sometimes. It’s a job like any other.”
Film definitely couldn’t hide her disappointment. “Sure, a job, something adults have. Like you and me.”
She didn’t want that feeling of having Namtan around to disappear so quickly, so she decided to take a chance, “I have an event tonight, do you want to come?”
“I don’t think I’m really the demographic.”
Film sighed, still unsure what that feeling was. She had everything she wanted. It felt like a dream, but what if it wasn’t?
“Namtan,” she called gently.
Once inside Namtan’s personal space, she whispered, “What if… What if this isn’t a dream? What if everything I ever wished for really did come true?”
Namtan’s face softened, revealing the Namtan that Film had once known. Though more grown up, she still had that same kind and affectionate smile. “So you got everything you wanted, now enjoy it.”
Film bit her lip, her chest growing warm. Namtan took one last look at her and opened the door.
Seeing her friend in the middle of the hallway, Film called out, “Namtan!”
“Yes?”
“Arrivederci.”
Namtan smiled and nodded, “Bye, Film”
“Namtan!”
“Yes?”
Film raised her eyebrows.
Namtan pondered and, though defeated, replied with a soft smile on her lips.
“Au revoir.”
When Film closed the door, her hand went directly to her heart, simply to ask it to calm down.