Work Text:
At half past four, Duang was still arguing with a ribbon.
He had been tying and untying it for so long that Pae had stopped giving useful advice. He sat on the other side of the worktable cutting the leftover blue paper into narrow strips, mostly to keep the scissors away from Duang. Jamie had finished helping twenty minutes earlier and was now perched on the corner of the table, smiling at his phone whenever Marvis sent another message.
The decorative-arts studio was almost empty. Anyone sensible had already gone home to shower and change before the festival. The long tables were cluttered with paint jars, damp brushes, scraps of banana leaf from somebody else’s project and the remains of Duang’s anniversary preparations. Two canvas bags sat under the table, stuffed with decorations, water bottles, tissues, power banks and enough emergency supplies for Duang to survive a three-day festival instead of one evening.
Duang loosened the knot again.
Pae put down the scissors. “If you do that one more time, the ribbon is going to leave you.”
“It’s uneven.”
“It was even before you touched it.”
“It was too tight.”
“That’s why it stayed tied.”
Duang held the wrapped album at arm’s length, frowned at it, then turned it slightly as if the ribbon might improve from another angle. A small silver music-note charm hung from the blue bow. Qin had won it for him at the same festival the year before after spending far too much money at a game stall that was designed to make people lose.
According to Duang, it had been romantic persistence.
According to everyone who had watched Qin miss the same target seven times, it had been stubbornness.
“The blue is better,” Jamie said, still typing.
“You haven’t even looked.”
“I looked earlier. It hasn’t changed.”
Duang turned to Pae. “Maybe white would look cleaner.”
“Qin is going to open the box.”
“That doesn’t mean the wrapping shouldn’t be nice.”
“He is going to tear it.”
“Qin doesn’t tear things.”
“He bit the tape on your birthday present.”
“You used too much tape,” Jamie said.
Duang pointed at him. “You’re supposed to support me today.”
“We’ve been supporting you since two.”
“Pae came late.”
“I came at two forty-seven.”
“You were supposed to come at two.”
“That isn’t even an hour.”
“It’s almost one.”
“Only if time works differently in this studio.”
Duang reached for the ribbon again. Pae caught his wrist.
“Leave it alone. It looks good.”
“You promise?”
“No, but Qin will like it because you made it.”
Duang’s expression softened. Then he spotted a loose thread near the charm and tried to pull his hand free.
Pae tightened his grip. “Don’t.”
“It’s one thread.”
“It’s holding your entire relationship together.”
“That isn’t funny.”
“It was a little funny.”
The studio door opened before Duang could argue.
Qin came in first, followed by Kim, who was carrying two iced drinks. Tong entered last with a plain brown paper bag held by its twisted handles.
Pae noticed him immediately, which was irritating.
Tong was wearing a dark shirt with the sleeves folded once above his elbows and clean trainers that were sensible for walking around the festival. Nothing unusual. He looked as if he might have spent a little longer getting ready than he normally did, but not enough that anyone could accuse him of it.
Pae turned back to the table before he became that person.
“You’re still here?” Qin asked.
Duang snatched up the album and hid it behind his back. “You’re early.”
Qin checked the clock. “I said we should be at the east entrance before five.”
“That means we leave at five.”
“It means we should already be on the way.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“It did when I said it.”
Kim placed one drink near Jamie and opened the other for himself. Jamie reached automatically for the cup.
Kim moved it away. “Mine.”
“You put it beside me.”
“I needed a free hand.”
“That was misleading.”
“Buy your own.”
Jamie complained under his breath and returned to his messages.
Qin tried to see what Duang was hiding. Duang turned his whole body away.
“Don’t look.”
“I can see the ribbon.”
“You can only see the outside.”
“That’s usually where the wrapping is.”
Duang stared at him, torn between annoyance and pleasure that Qin had noticed the ribbon at all. Qin smiled and let the matter drop. That only made Duang happier.
Pae began gathering loose pieces of tape, mainly so he would not keep glancing toward the end of the table.
Tong had placed the paper bag on an empty chair, but he still had one hand around the handles. Whatever was inside was wide and fairly flat. He kept it upright and away from the clutter.
Pae tried not to wonder about it.
He failed almost at once.
Things had been strange between them since Pae admitted that Cherry had never existed.
Tong had not shouted. That might have been easier. He had not humiliated Pae in front of the others or told him to stay away. He had simply gone quiet, and Pae had filled that silence with apologies, jokes and far too many explanations until Tong finally told him to stop talking.
After that, Tong kept appearing.
He joined Qin and Kim at the food court when Pae was there. He waited outside Duang’s studio on afternoons when Qin was late. He sent Pae messages about things that did not need to become messages at all, like whether the soup stall was open or whether Jamie had returned a borrowed book.
Once, close to midnight, Pae walked into a convenience store and found Tong standing beside the drinks refrigerator with nothing in his hands.
Tong said he was buying water.
Pae pointed out that he had been standing there long enough for the glass door to fog around him.
Tong took a bottle from the shelf and paid for it.
Neither of them mentioned that he could have bought water anywhere.
Nothing had happened between them, but nothing had become so regular that Pae had started expecting it.
Duang was still explaining the ribbon to Qin. Jamie was correcting an English message before sending it to Marvis. Kim had settled on the corner of the worktable with his drink.
Tong said, “Has Cherry invited me anywhere tonight?”
The scissors slipped from Pae’s fingers and landed flat on the table.
Jamie stopped typing. Duang went quiet halfway through a sentence. Even Kim paused with the straw near his mouth.
Pae picked up the scissors and set them down carefully. “Cherry retired.”
“I heard.”
“There was a private farewell ceremony.”
“Was I invited?”
“No.”
“That seems unfair.”
“She was going through a difficult time.”
Tong accepted this with a small nod. “Then Pae can invite me.”
Pae could feel Duang watching from across the table. Jamie had lowered his phone altogether. Qin, at least, was polite enough to focus on Duang, although Duang was making no effort to return the favour.
“Invite you where?” Pae asked.
“To Loy Krathong.”
“We’re all going.”
“I know.”
“You came here dressed for it.”
“Yes.”
“You brought a suspicious bag.”
Tong glanced at the chair. “I brought a bag.”
“So you already planned to go.”
“With Qin and Kim.”
Pae leaned against the table and aimed for boredom. “Then why do you need me?”
“I didn’t say I needed you.”
“That is not helping.”
“I said I want you to invite me.”
Tong’s voice remained calm. Pae suddenly became aware of the dried paint on his fingers, the collar of his shirt sitting slightly wrong and the fact that his lunch had been half a sandwich because Duang ate the other half.
He tried to make the moment easier.
“Do you need a formal invitation?”
“No.”
“Flowers?”
“Food would be fine.”
Kim covered his mouth with his cup. Jamie turned away, shoulders moving once.
Pae narrowed his eyes at both of them before facing Tong again. “Fine. Tong, would you like to come to the festival with me?”
“With you?”
“You asked for this. Don’t become difficult now.”
“Yes.”
The answer came quickly enough to knock the next joke out of Pae’s head.
“All right,” he said.
“All right.”
“That’s it?”
“What else?”
“A thank-you would be polite.”
“Thank you for inviting me to the festival I was already attending.”
Pae pushed away from the table. “Invitation cancelled.”
Tong caught his wrist before he could take a full step.
It was barely a hold. His fingers rested around Pae’s skin without pulling, but Pae stopped anyway.
“Too late,” Tong said.
For one embarrassing second, Pae forgot that anyone else was in the room.
Then Jamie made a strangled sound and Duang threw the roll of white ribbon at him.
“What?” Jamie whispered.
“You were going to say something.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You made a face.”
“That’s my normal face.”
Tong let go. The touch had been brief, but Pae rubbed the spot with his thumb while pretending to check for paint.
Qin picked up one of the canvas bags. “We should leave.”
Duang checked the clock and panicked all over again.
“My charger.”
“Side pocket,” Pae said.
“The decorations.”
“Under the table.”
“My phone.”
“In your hand.”
Duang glanced down, found it and ignored Jamie’s laugh.
Qin reached for the anniversary gift. Duang pulled it out of reach.
“I’ll carry that.”
“I can carry a box.”
“You don’t know what’s inside.”
“I know it’s an album.”
Duang stared at him.
Qin added, “I saw the binding yesterday.”
“You weren’t supposed to remember.”
Everyone began gathering their things. Jamie slung his bag over one shoulder while still checking Marvis’s messages. Kim stole one of Duang’s water bottles.
When Kim reached for Tong’s paper bag, Tong moved it behind his leg.
“I was helping,” Kim said.
“No.”
Pae glanced over. “What’s inside?”
“Nothing,” Kim answered.
“That bag is very full for nothing.”
Tong folded the top closed. “It’s mine.”
“You’ve been guarding it since you walked in.”
Tong lifted it before Pae could get closer.
The movement made Pae laugh. “Now I want to see.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you’ll touch it.”
“That sounds like a challenge.”
“It isn’t for you.”
Tong said it while checking that the bottom of the bag remained flat, as if it were an ordinary warning.
Pae nodded like he had not been wondering about it since Tong entered the studio. “Good. The bag is ugly.”
“You haven’t seen what’s inside.”
“I’m judging the presentation.”
Duang called Pae from the corridor because he could not manage two canvas bags and the gift at once. Pae took the heavier bag, complained loudly enough to make his feelings clear and followed everyone out.
He stayed behind to switch off the lights, shut the windows and move a cardboard moon away from the door so nobody would step on its wet silver edge the next morning.
When Pae entered the corridor, Tong was waiting near the stairs. The others had already reached the floor below.
“You didn’t have to wait,” Pae said.
“I know.”
Tong picked up the paper bag.
Pae glanced at it.
Tong sighed. “Still not for you.”
“I was checking whether it survived.”
“You called it ugly.”
“Ugly things can still be delicate.”
Tong gave a quiet huff that might have been a laugh and started down the stairs.
Pae followed him, smiling even though he had not decided what exactly he was pleased about.
The shuttle was crowded enough that they had to stand for most of the journey.
Duang and Qin found seats near the front when two students got off at the next stop. Jamie sat beside them, noticed an older woman standing in the aisle and jumped up so quickly that his shoulder struck Kim in the chest.
Pae ended up by the rear doors with Tong. Duang’s canvas bag hung from one shoulder, its strap digging into Pae’s neck. Tong set the paper bag between his shoes and kept one foot lightly against it whenever the shuttle turned.
“You’re taking very good care of something that isn’t mine,” Pae said.
“I’m stopping it from falling.”
“You’ve checked it four times.”
“You counted?”
“I notice suspicious behaviour.”
“You should start with your own.”
“That would take all night.”
The shuttle went around a bend. Pae bumped Tong’s shoulder, and neither of them moved apart. Around them, students compared meeting points, river platforms and food recommendations. Someone near the front carried a bundle of lotus flowers that brushed other passengers’ hair each time the driver braked.
Pae lowered his voice. “This is a very romantic beginning.”
“You chose the transport.”
“I did not.”
“You invited me.”
“That doesn’t make me responsible for the university shuttle.”
“You should have planned better.”
“I’ll remember that for our next terrible date.”
Tong turned his head.
Pae stared through the window at the slow traffic. Paper lanterns already lined the roads leading towards the festival grounds.
“You called it a date,” Tong said.
“I called it terrible.”
“You also called it ours.”
“You always take the most inconvenient part of a sentence.”
“Do you want to take it back?”
Pae adjusted his grip on the rail. Tong had given him a clean way out, which only made him less willing to take it.
“No.”
“All right.”
“That still doesn’t make it a date.”
“I know.”
“You don’t sound disappointed.”
“I’m waiting.”
“For what?”
Tong’s attention dropped towards the paper bag.
Pae followed it. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“That is the second time someone has said nothing about that bag.”
“Maybe it really is nothing.”
“Then let me carry it.”
“No.”
Pae was about to argue when Duang shot to his feet near the front.
“My charm.”
Qin caught his elbow before he fell into Jamie.
Duang dragged the anniversary gift out of the tote. The blue ribbon was still tied around it, but the silver music note was gone.
“No. No, no, no.”
Pae squeezed through the aisle. “Check the bag.”
“I checked.”
“You looked at the top.”
“I checked properly.”
Duang shoved the tote at him.
Pae searched through tissues, chargers, folded decorations, water bottles and wet wipes. He ran his fingers along every pocket and the bottom seam.
No charm.
“When did you last see it?” Qin asked.
“At the studio.”
“You retied the ribbon,” Pae said.
“I fixed it.”
“You loosened it.”
“It was too tight.”
“It was attached while it was tight.”
Duang stopped arguing. His panic dropped into a quieter, miserable expression that made Pae regret teasing him.
“We’ll find it.”
“What if it fell outside?”
“We only walked from the studio to the shuttle.”
“And the stairs.”
“The stairs are included in walking from the studio.”
“And the corridor.”
Pae pulled out his phone. “I’ll call the building.”
“The security office might be busy.”
“That’s why I’m calling instead of visiting.”
He moved closer to the rear doors where it was slightly quieter and covered one ear while explaining the missing charm. The person on duty promised to ask the guard to check the studio, stairwell and path outside.
When Pae ended the call, Duang had the gift against his knees.
Qin touched the empty place on the ribbon. “You can give me the album without it.”
“It’s part of the gift.”
“You already gave me the charm last year.”
“You won it for me.”
“Yes.”
“That’s why it matters.”
Qin nodded. “Then we’ll keep looking.”
Some of the tension left Duang’s shoulders.
Pae returned to the rear doors. Tong moved aside to make room for him.
“You didn’t have to call immediately,” Tong said.
“Duang would spend the whole journey imagining it under every shuttle wheel.”
“He might still do that.”
“He absolutely will.”
Pae’s phone buzzed.
Jamie had sent three words.
I NEED HELP.
Pae typed NO and locked the screen.
Another message arrived almost immediately.
YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT IT IS.
Pae glanced towards the front. Jamie was standing beside Duang’s seat, pretending not to watch him.
Pae replied:
I KNOW ENOUGH.
Jamie pressed his hands together.
Pae shook his head.
A photograph arrived next. It showed an order receipt for a krathong-making kit under Jamie’s name. Collection closed at six thirty. Marvis’s name appeared beneath Jamie’s, along with a note asking for English instructions.
Tong read it over Pae’s shoulder. “A surprise?”
“For Marvis.”
“That’s thoughtful.”
“It would be more thoughtful if Jamie collected it himself.”
“Marvis is meeting him at the west entrance.”
“You know too much.”
“Jamie told Qin. Qin told me.”
Jamie called.
Pae declined it.
Jamie called again.
“What?” Pae answered.
“I only need you to collect the box.”
“You’re already going to the same festival.”
“I have to meet Marvis.”
“Collect it before he arrives.”
“He said the traffic is better now.”
“Then tell him to wait.”
“He might come looking for me.”
“Say you’re in the toilet.”
“For half an hour?”
“That’s between you and your body.”
Jamie made an impatient sound. “Pae, please.”
Pae glanced at Tong, who was listening openly.
“It will take ten minutes,” Jamie continued. “The stall is in the craft lane. Tong can go with you.”
Pae turned towards the window. “That defeats the point.”
“What point?”
“The point of—”
He stopped.
Jamie went quiet.
“Don’t,” Pae warned.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re smiling.”
“You can’t see me.”
“I know you.”
Jamie laughed softly. “Collect it together. Then I’ll leave you alone.”
“You never leave anyone alone.”
“Tonight I will.”
That was such an obvious lie that Pae nearly laughed.
“Send the stall number.”
Jamie thanked him twice and ended the call.
Tong said, “What point?”
“Nothing.”
“That word is becoming popular.”
“The point is that I invited you. It would be rude if I spent the evening running errands for everyone else.”
“Then don’t.”
“It’s one box.”
“You already agreed.”
“Because Jamie was begging.”
“You like being needed.”
Pae turned to him. Tong did not sound critical. He seemed to be stating something he had noticed, which was somehow worse.
“I’m loyal.”
“You are.”
“That sounded doubtful.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Good.”
“You’re also easy to persuade.”
“That part sounded like criticism.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Your face disagrees.”
The shuttle slowed near the festival before Tong could answer. People gathered around the doors at once.
Pae crouched to pick up the paper bag before somebody stepped on it. Tong reached down at the same time. Their hands met around one handle.
Pae let go first.
“Still not allowed?”
“No.”
“You’re selfish.”
Tong lifted the bag. “You can carry Duang’s.”
Duang immediately pushed another canvas bag into Pae’s arms. “Thank you.”
Pae stared at him. “You heard that?”
“No.”
The doors opened.
Warm evening air came inside, smelling of smoke, fried food and river water. Pae stepped down with one bag over each shoulder.
Rows of lanterns and gold paper stars hung over the festival entrance. Volunteers directed people towards the craft lane, food stalls, main stage and release platforms. Music carried over the crowd with vendor calls and announcements.
Duang stopped a few metres past the gate and searched the tote again.
Qin took it from him. “You checked.”
“I might have missed something.”
“You emptied it on the shuttle.”
“That was bad lighting.”
Pae adjusted the straps on his shoulders. “The security guard will call.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“Then I’ll call again.”
“When?”
“After I collect Jamie’s box.”
Jamie checked his phone. “Marvis is almost here.”
“Go to the west entrance,” Pae said.
Jamie hurried away.
Kim bought iced tea from the nearest stall without waiting for anybody else.
Tong remained beside Pae, the brown bag held close to his leg.
“Craft lane first,” Pae said. “Then we look for the charm. After that, we can finally walk around.”
“For how long?”
Pae smiled. “Do you have a schedule?”
“Yes.”
The answer was quiet enough that Duang did not hear it.
“What schedule?”
“Later.”
“Why later?”
Tong nodded past him.
Duang was watching them without any attempt at subtlety. When Pae turned, he focused quickly on Qin instead.
Qin raised an eyebrow at him.
“Fine,” Pae said. “Later.”
They made it twelve steps before a volunteer stopped Pae because one of Duang’s bag straps had fallen into the marked walkway. Pae moved it, apologised and caught up with Tong beneath a row of paper stars.
Tong had waited again.
Pae told himself it was because they were going to the same stall.
The craft lane was packed.
Families crowded around long tables where volunteers showed children how to fold banana leaves. Students queued for painted fans, bracelets and festival photographs. A small boy sat on the floor eating a sausage while his mother tried to persuade him to stand up.
Pae checked Jamie’s message. “Stall twenty-six.”
Tong read the numbers above the tables. “Other side.”
They moved through the crowd together. Pae carried Duang’s bags in front of him so they would not hit anyone. Tong kept the paper bag close to his chest.
Whenever the path narrowed, Tong briefly touched Pae’s back to steer him around somebody or keep them from being separated.
The touches never lasted.
Pae noticed them anyway.
At stall twenty-six, Pae showed the order receipt to the worker. She crouched to search beneath the table.
Tong stood close behind him because there was hardly room to move. Pae could feel his shoulder near his back each time someone squeezed past.
“You can stand somewhere else,” Pae said.
“There’s a chair behind me.”
“There’s space near the flowers.”
“The child is there.”
Pae glanced over. The boy with the sausage had relocated to that exact spot.
“Fine.”
The worker returned with a shallow cardboard box. Jamie’s name was written on the label, with Marvis’s below it. Inside were banana leaves, pins, flowers, a candle and two instruction cards, one in Thai and the other in simple English.
Pae checked everything before closing the lid.
“Jamie did well,” Tong said.
“Never tell him that.”
“He’ll know when Marvis likes it.”
“That’s different. Marvis is allowed to encourage him.”
Pae’s phone rang.
Duang.
He answered with a sigh. “Did the guard call?”
“No.”
“Then why are you calling?”
“Qin says the candles I packed are bent.”
In the background, Qin said, “One candle.”
Duang continued. “Can you buy two?”
“You’re standing in a festival full of candles.”
“I don’t know which ones are good.”
“They’re candles, Duang.”
“Some burn too fast.”
Pae glanced at Tong.
Tong held out his hand. Pae gave him the phone.
“Duang,” Tong said.
He listened for a few seconds.
“No.”
Another pause.
“You can buy food yourself too.”
Pae tried to hear Duang, but Tong moved the phone slightly away from his ear.
“Pae isn’t your assistant.”
Pae covered his mouth to stop himself laughing.
Tong ended the call and returned the phone.
“You hung up on him.”
“He was asking you to buy dinner.”
“He always asks me to buy dinner.”
“He said Qin only ate one bun.”
“Qin probably ate more than Duang.”
“Probably.”
Tong took Jamie’s box from under Pae’s arm before they left the stall. Pae did not object. The canvas straps were already hurting his shoulders.
“Where are we taking this?”
“Food lane. Near the coconut pancake stall.”
They stepped back into the crowd.
A group of performers in traditional clothes had stopped in the middle of the walkway for photographs. One of their large decorative fans swung towards Pae’s face when somebody turned.
Tong pulled him back by the arm.
The fan missed his nose by a few centimetres.
“I saw it,” Pae said.
“You didn’t move.”
“I was going to.”
“When?”
“Before it hit me.”
Tong released him. “Reliable.”
“You’re becoming annoying.”
“I had a good teacher.”
They crossed towards the food lane, moving more slowly as the crowd thickened.
Pae talked because silence made him too aware of Tong walking beside him. He complained about Duang’s anniversary schedule and told Tong that Jamie had changed the surprise three times. He described the argument over whether Marvis needed an English instruction card and how Jamie almost ordered two separate kits because he could not decide which flowers Marvis would prefer.
Tong listened without answering every sentence. Sometimes he only asked one question before Pae continued.
Talking to him had become easy.
Pae did not entirely trust easy things.
Near the coconut pancake stall, Jamie stood with Marvis beside a row of clothing racks. Marvis held up a dark blue shirt printed with a gold elephant wearing sunglasses.
Jamie was shaking his head.
“The shirt is good,” Pae said.
“It’s terrible,” Tong replied.
“That’s why it’s good.”
“Jamie agrees with me.”
“Jamie has no courage.”
Pae called him.
Jamie answered without turning around. “Where are you?”
“Behind you.”
Jamie spun around.
Marvis followed his gaze.
Pae stepped behind Tong.
Tong glanced over his shoulder. “Very natural.”
“Be quiet.”
Jamie lowered his voice. “I can see Tong.”
“You can’t see me.”
“You’re behind him.”
“No.”
Marvis started walking towards them.
Jamie caught his wrist and pointed urgently at another shirt.
Marvis stared at him, confused.
Pae sighed. “Stay here.”
He took the box from Tong and slipped behind the drink stall. A narrow service path ran between the stalls and a temporary storage fence.
Jamie met him near a stack of empty cartons.
“You nearly showed him.”
“You called while standing behind me.”
“You turned around like someone shouted your full name at a police station.”
“I panicked.”
“You ordered the surprise. You should have planned the handover.”
“I planned everything else.”
“That’s generous.”
Jamie opened the box. His face softened when he saw the English card.
“They printed it properly.”
“Yes.”
“Do the flowers look fresh?”
“They’ve been in the box for less than an hour.”
“This one is bent.”
“It’s a flower. It has experienced life.”
Jamie touched the instruction card with one finger. “He’ll like this.”
Pae smiled despite himself.
Jamie could make almost any plan more complicated than necessary, but he had thought about what would make the evening easier for Marvis. He remembered the things Marvis sometimes missed when everyone spoke too quickly or relied on references he had not grown up with.
“Don’t lose it,” Pae said.
“I won’t.”
“Don’t ask me to carry it.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You were thinking about it.”
Jamie hugged the box against his chest. “Thank you.”
Pae waved him away.
Jamie took two steps, then came back.
“Pae.”
“What now?”
Jamie glanced towards the food lane. “Go back to Tong.”
“I am.”
“I mean stay with him.”
“You are the reason I left him.”
“I know.”
“That weakens your argument.”
Jamie’s expression became more serious. “He came dressed for you.”
“He always wears clothes.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No.”
“You do.”
The service path smelled of frying oil, damp cardboard and flowers. Someone dragged a folded table along the other side of the fence.
Jamie adjusted the box under his arm. “I shouldn’t have asked you.”
“It took ten minutes.”
“It took longer.”
“It was fine.”
“You always say that.”
Pae stopped smiling.
“You’re allowed to tell us no sometimes,” Jamie said.
“That’s very wise from someone who begged until I agreed.”
“I’m learning.”
“You’ve learned nothing.”
“Probably.”
Pae pushed his shoulder. “Go. Marvis is going to buy the elephant shirt.”
Jamie’s eyes widened. “He wouldn’t.”
“He was holding it.”
Jamie hurried out.
Pae stayed near the stacked cartons for a few seconds before returning to the food lane.
Tong was waiting beside the drink stall, the paper bag in one hand and two cups of iced tea in the other.
He held one out.
“You bought me a drink?”
“You said I hadn’t offered you anything.”
“This is a drink.”
“It was faster than food.”
Pae took it.
The order sticker showed less sugar, the way he usually asked for it.
“How did you know?”
“You always order the same thing.”
“How many times have you seen me order it?”
Tong thought briefly. “Four.”
“That’s slightly frightening.”
“You remembered my rehearsal schedule before we had properly met.”
The cup stopped halfway to Pae’s mouth.
“That was different.”
“Because you were using another voice?”
Tong had not sounded cruel. That almost made it worse.
Pae lowered the drink. “You can say Cherry.”
“I know.”
“You keep going around it.”
“I was trying not to embarrass you.”
“That works better when you don’t mention it.”
The answer came out sharper than Pae intended.
Two students pushed between them carrying a large tray of flowers. Tong moved aside to protect the paper bag. By the time they passed, Pae had lost the easy moment to take his words back.
He drank even though he was not thirsty.
“Sorry.”
Tong glanced at him.
“I’m tired. That wasn’t your fault.”
“I know.”
It was an irritating answer because Pae could not tell whether he had been forgiven or Tong had simply decided not to argue.
Before he could ask, Duang appeared from the crowd.
“There you are.”
Pae closed his eyes. “No.”
Duang caught his arm. “Jamie won’t let me search his bag.”
“Because you keep searching everybody’s things.”
“I think the charm fell inside.”
“You also thought it was under a shuttle seat.”
“It could have been.”
Qin came behind him carrying two bowls of noodles. Kim followed with another drink.
Qin held one bowl towards Duang. “Eat.”
“I’m busy.”
“You can be busy after eating.”
“I can search and eat.”
“You dropped the charm while doing several things.”
Duang stared at him.
Qin took a bite from his own bowl.
Pae laughed into his tea.
“You’re supposed to support me,” Duang complained.
“I am feeding you.”
“That isn’t the same.”
“It’s what you need.”
Kim stopped beside Tong and nodded at the paper bag. “You still have that.”
Tong gave him a warning glance.
Kim smiled.
Pae caught the exchange. “What?”
“Nothing,” Kim said.
“There it is again.”
“What?”
“That word. Everybody says it around the bag.”
Kim turned to Tong.
Tong moved the bag behind his leg.
“What’s inside?” Pae asked.
“Not your business,” Kim replied.
Tong turned his head.
Kim corrected himself. “Not yet.”
Pae heard the difference.
Before he could question him, Duang pulled him towards the west side of the lane.
“I need Jamie’s bag.”
“I just left Jamie.”
“Good. You know where he is.”
Pae glanced back at Tong.
Tong stood beside Kim, holding the ugly paper bag and the drink he had bought for Pae.
“I’ll come back,” Pae said.
“All right.”
Pae waited, though he did not know what he expected Tong to add.
Duang pulled again.
Pae went with him, annoyed at Tong for letting him leave and much more annoyed at himself for wanting to be stopped.
Tong had made the krathong two nights earlier on the floor of Kim’s apartment.
He chose Kim’s place because his room was too small and because Kim owned scissors that could cut banana leaves cleanly. He had not chosen it because Kim was helpful.
That proved correct.
Kim returned with dinner and stood in the doorway for almost a minute.
“What is that?”
Tong did not turn around. “It isn’t finished.”
“I hope not.”
The krathong base leaned to one side. Four folded leaves had already come loose. The candle stood at an angle that placed the nearest flower in immediate danger.
Kim took out his phone.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re taking a picture.”
“For memory.”
Tong held out his hand until Kim put the phone away.
The instruction video made the folding look simple. The woman pressed each leaf into a clean point and pinned it to the base in one smooth movement.
Tong’s leaves bent in the wrong places. Some split near the pins. Others were noticeably shorter than the ones beside them.
Kim sat on the sofa and opened his food.
“You skipped that section before.”
“She talks too much.”
“She’s teaching you.”
“I can see what she’s doing.”
“Clearly.”
Tong replayed the folding section and ignored him.
The first candle leaned far enough to touch a flower. Kim said it would burn the whole krathong before it reached the water.
Tong removed it.
The second candle still leaned, but less.
That was the one inside the paper bag now.
At the festival, Tong had already seen dozens of krathongs that were better. Many were beautiful enough that Pae would probably stop to photograph them.
Tong could have bought one.
He had wanted to make it himself.
Two nights earlier, that had felt important. Now he stood beside Kim near the food lane, carrying it while Pae disappeared again with Duang.
Kim finished his iced tea and crushed the cup slightly in one hand.
“You should tell him.”
“No.”
“He thinks it isn’t for him.”
“I told him it wasn’t.”
“That was clever.”
“He was about to open the bag.”
“You could have said it was a surprise.”
“Then he would ask about it all night.”
“He’s doing that anyway.”
Tong watched the crowd.
Pae was easy to find when he was near. He talked with his hands, leaned towards people when he wanted them to listen and smiled before he had finished making a joke.
When Pae worried, he became useful.
He carried bags. Checked phones. Fixed small problems before anybody else decided whether they were serious.
Tong liked that about him.
Tonight, he was beginning to resent how quickly everybody reached for it.
Not Pae’s loyalty. Tong did not want him to stop caring about his friends.
He wanted Pae to believe somebody could wait while he cared for them.
“He’ll come back,” Kim said.
“I know.”
“You’ve said that twice.”
“I know.”
Kim threw his cup into a bin and pointed towards the paper bag. “The bottom is damp.”
A dark patch had formed where one of the iced cups had brushed against the paper. Tong adjusted the box inside so it remained flat.
“Did you bring extra flowers?” Kim asked.
“No.”
“Pins?”
“No.”
“A replacement candle?”
“No.”
“You prepared well.”
“It only has to reach the river.”
“It has to survive Pae first.”
Tong gave him a warning glance.
Kim smiled. “He’s going to laugh.”
“I know.”
“You’re still giving it to him?”
“Yes.”
That part had never been uncertain.
When Tong first spoke to Cherry, he believed she was real. She remembered details. She asked about rehearsals without pretending to understand everything. She sent photographs of food and asked which dish looked worst.
Tong liked talking to her.
Finding out Cherry was Pae did not erase those conversations. It left Tong with the attention he had enjoyed and the lie that had delivered it, both tied to the same person.
He needed time to work out what to do with that.
At first, curiosity explained why he kept finding reasons to be around Pae. It did not explain why he waited outside the studio when Qin was late, why he knew Pae’s tea order or why he had spent an evening fighting with banana leaves.
Kim sat on the low wall near the lantern arch and opened a packet of grilled chicken.
“Do you have a speech?”
“No.”
“You should.”
“I know what I want to say.”
“That isn’t the same.”
“I don’t need a speech.”
“You made a krathong.”
“That has nothing to do with speaking.”
“You’re going to show it to him and hope he understands everything?”
Tong took one piece of chicken. “That was the plan.”
Kim laughed.
Tong’s phone vibrated.
COMING BACK. DUANG FOUND A NEW PLACE TO PANIC.
He replied:
LANTERN ARCH. I HAVE YOUR DRINK.
The message took several seconds to send through the crowded festival network.
They waited beneath the arch as the lights came on. Couples and families began forming a line for photographs.
At six thirty-five, Pae sent a photograph of Duang searching Jamie’s tote.
At six forty-three, Tong sent:
STILL HERE.
At six fifty, Kim bought another drink.
At six fifty-seven, Tong saw Pae at the far end of the food lane and stood.
A volunteer called Pae over to hold a fallen sign while the stand was repaired. Pae did it without hesitation.
When the sign was upright again, Jamie reached him. Marvis stood beside Jamie carrying the krathong kit.
They spoke briefly.
Then Pae followed them towards the workshop tables.
Tong sat down again.
Kim did not make a joke this time.
At seven ten, the lights above the arch brightened fully.
At seven seventeen, Tong called Pae. The call rang twice and cut off.
At seven twenty-two, Pae sent:
BATTERY DYING. WITH JAMIE. SORRY. COMING.
Tong typed:
I’LL WAIT.
Kim read the message over his shoulder. “You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
“You’ve been here almost an hour.”
“I know.”
“He probably doesn’t realise.”
“That’s the problem.”
Pae had asked him not to leave.
So Tong stayed.
Pae’s phone battery reached four percent while Jamie was trying to pin a banana leaf upside down.
“It has a front,” Marvis said.
Jamie held it closer to the light. “They look the same.”
“They don’t.”
“They do to me.”
Marvis turned to Pae. “Please tell him.”
Pae barely glanced at the leaf. “Marvis is right.”
“You didn’t check.”
“I don’t need to.”
Jamie pushed the leaf towards him. “Then fix it.”
“No.”
“You said you’d help.”
“I said I would collect the box.”
“You’re already here.”
“That is not consent.”
Marvis took the leaf and folded it himself.
They sat at the end of a long workshop table near the west side of the festival. Most visitors had begun moving towards the river, but enough remained that the volunteers were still helping families pin flowers and fit candles into place.
Duang stood several metres away with Jamie’s tote spread open across a bench. Qin watched him search it for the second time.
Pae checked the time.
Seven twelve.
He had told Tong he would be back before six forty.
His phone buzzed.
I’LL WAIT.
Pae read the message twice and typed:
WHERE EXACTLY
The screen went black.
“No.”
He pressed the power button.
Nothing.
Jamie glanced over. “Dead?”
“Yes.”
“I have a charger.”
“Where?”
“In my bag.”
Pae turned towards the bench. Duang had removed almost everything from Jamie’s tote.
No power bank.
Jamie followed his gaze. “Maybe Duang has it.”
“Of course he does.”
“You can use my phone.”
Pae held out his hand.
Jamie checked his pockets. “Marvis has it.”
Marvis placed Jamie’s phone on the table without comment.
Pae tried to call Tong.
The call failed before it rang.
He tried again.
Nothing.
“Festival network,” Marvis said.
Pae returned the phone. “I’m going to the arch.”
Jamie glanced at the unfinished krathong. “Can you help for five more minutes?”
Pae stared at him.
Jamie winced. “That sounded bad.”
“It sounded terrible.”
“Go. We’re fine.”
Pae stood.
Duang called his name.
Pae closed his eyes.
Qin said something quietly, but Duang still came over with the empty tote.
“There’s a tear in the lining.”
“So?”
“I think the charm is inside.”
Pae took the bag. The inner cloth had pulled away near one corner. He pressed along the bottom and felt something shift between the layers.
“It might be.”
Duang brightened. “Cut it.”
“It’s Jamie’s bag.”
Jamie looked over. “Do not cut my bag.”
“A small cut,” Duang said.
“It’s still my bag.”
“You can buy another.”
“Then you can buy another charm.”
Duang looked betrayed.
Qin took the tote from Pae. “We’ll check it under better light.”
“The lantern arch photograph is at seven fifteen,” Duang said.
Pae checked the time. “It’s already seven sixteen.”
Duang froze.
Qin glanced at the clock. “The arch will remain there.”
“The schedule—”
“You made the schedule.”
“That means it matters.”
Qin placed both hands on Duang’s shoulders. “Pae has somewhere else to be.”
Duang’s eyes moved to Pae. Guilt arrived immediately.
“I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine.”
Pae was already stepping away.
Duang caught his sleeve. “Take my phone.”
Pae accepted it and hurried towards the main path.
The crowd near the stage had doubled. A performance had started, and people stopped in the walkway to record it. Children ran between adults carrying glowing toys. A family blocked one side while deciding where to eat.
Pae moved around them, called Tong and waited.
The phone rang.
No answer.
He tried again while walking. The call ended before voicemail.
By the time he reached the lantern arch, he was sweating and out of breath.
The low wall where Tong had said he was waiting was empty.
Pae checked the drink stall, the edge of the food lane and the path behind the arch.
No Tong.
Duang and Qin had reached the front of the photo queue nearby. Duang held the album behind his back. Qin stood close, listening while Duang spoke with far too many hand movements.
Pae nearly asked whether they had seen Tong, then stopped. It was their anniversary, and the missing charm had already taken over too much of it.
He searched around the arch again.
The paper bag should have made Tong easy to find, but there were too many bags and too many dark shirts moving through the lights.
At seven forty, Pae spotted Kim near a grilled chicken stall.
“Where’s Tong?”
Kim glanced behind him. “Not with you?”
“No.”
“He went to find you.”
“When?”
“About ten minutes ago.”
“Which way?”
Kim pointed towards the west craft area.
Pae had just come from there.
“My phone died.”
Kim took a power bank from his pocket.
Pae stared at it. “You have one.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you give it to me earlier?”
“You weren’t here.”
Pae held out his hand. Kim passed over the power bank and a cable.
While Pae connected Duang’s phone, Kim said, “Tong waited almost an hour.”
Pae’s fingers slowed. “What?”
“He was at the arch before six thirty.”
“He could have walked around.”
“He didn’t want to.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Why?”
“Because no one asked him to stand in one place for an hour.”
“You asked him not to leave.”
“That’s not the same.”
“It was to him.”
Pae pushed the power bank into his pocket.
“I’m not angry with him.”
“You sound angry.”
“I’m tired.”
Kim’s expression suggested that was not the whole answer, but he did not argue.
Pae glanced at the crowd behind him. “What’s in the bag?”
Kim hesitated.
“You know.”
“I know enough not to tell you.”
“So it is a secret.”
Kim looked away.
“Is it for someone?”
Kim said nothing.
Pae laughed once, the sound sharper than he intended. “Right.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Tong did. He said it wasn’t for me.”
Kim muttered something.
“What?”
“Tong is bad at surprises.”
Pae stared at him.
Kim seemed to realise what he had admitted. “Forget that.”
“No.”
“Pae.”
“Is it for me?”
“I’m not telling you.”
“That is nearly an answer.”
“It isn’t.”
Pae looked down at the cable between the phone and power bank.
He had spent most of the evening telling himself Tong did not care whether they were together. It had been easier than believing the invitation meant anything.
Tong had waited.
Pae had not even trusted him to do that.
“Which way?” he asked.
Kim pointed again. “Craft area. He was checking the tables.”
Pae gave Duang’s phone to Kim to return, kept the power bank and walked away.
The craft lane had begun to empty. Workers cleared scraps from the tables. Volunteers packed unused flowers into boxes while a few families rushed to finish before the river platforms closed.
Pae checked each row.
No Tong.
At the final stall, a worker directed him towards the service path behind the storage fence.
Tong stood near a stack of folded tables, checking his phone. The paper bag still hung from one hand. The handles had left red lines across his fingers.
When he saw Pae, he put the phone away.
“I was looking for you.”
“I know.”
“Your phone died.”
“Yes.”
Tong noticed the cable hanging from Pae’s pocket. “Kim found you.”
Pae nodded.
The path was quieter than the main festival grounds, although music and announcements still carried over the stalls. A rubbish bin stood near the fence, and someone had left a broken flower stem on the ground.
Tong adjusted the paper bag.
Pae could not stop watching it.
“You waited at the arch.”
“Yes.”
“For almost an hour.”
“Almost.”
“Why?”
Tong frowned. “You asked me not to leave.”
“That was before everything happened.”
“What everything?”
“Duang. Jamie. The charm. The workshop.”
“I knew where you were.”
“Then you didn’t need to wait.”
The words sounded wrong as soon as they were out.
Tong’s face closed slightly.
“You could have walked around with Kim,” Pae continued, because stopping had become more difficult. “You could have gone to the stage. You didn’t have to stand there because I sent one message.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you?”
“Because I was waiting for you.”
The answer left Pae with nothing ready to throw back.
He stared at the broken flower stem near his shoe. “You don’t have to say it like that.”
“How should I say it?”
“I don’t know.”
Tong rested the paper bag on top of a folded table. “What are you angry about?”
“I’m not angry.”
“You are.”
“I’m tired.”
“So am I.”
“That bag can’t be that heavy.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
Pae rubbed a hand over his face.
His feet hurt. His phone had died. He had missed the part of the evening he secretly wanted. Everyone seemed to understand Tong’s intentions except him.
None of that was Tong’s fault.
Still, Pae heard himself say, “You said you had plans.”
“Yes.”
“You never told me what they were.”
“I tried.”
“When?”
“At the studio. On the shuttle. At the entrance.”
“You kept saying later.”
“Every time I tried to speak to you, somebody called your name.”
“That isn’t my fault.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you making it sound like I chose them over you?”
“I’m not.”
“It sounds like it.”
Tong placed both hands on the folded table and leaned against it. “I’m not angry because you helped your friends.”
“You waited for an hour.”
“I was annoyed.”
“Then be annoyed.”
“I am.”
“No, you’re being calm.”
Tong stared at him. “What do you want me to do? Shout?”
“I don’t know. Anything.”
“You wanted me to stop you.”
“No.”
“You wanted me to tell Duang he couldn’t ask for help, or tell Jamie his surprise didn’t matter.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“I don’t want you competing with them.”
“I’m not.”
“Then what is this?”
“This is me telling you that I waited.”
The anger Pae had been carrying lost some of its shape.
Tong continued, quieter now. “I don’t mind that you help them. I mind that every time you walked away, you behaved as if I would be relieved.”
Pae opened his mouth but had no answer.
“You thought I wanted you gone,” Tong said.
“I thought you didn’t care.”
“You didn’t ask.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“I asked you to invite me.”
“That could have been a joke.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
“You joke all the time.”
“Not about that.”
Pae’s attention returned to the paper bag. The folded top had opened slightly, showing the edge of a cardboard box.
“What is that?”
Tong picked it up. “Not here.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re behind a rubbish bin.”
Pae glanced at the bin. “That hasn’t stopped you carrying it around.”
“I didn’t plan to give it to you here.”
“So it is for me.”
Tong’s answer did not come quickly enough.
The hesitation was tiny, but Pae caught it.
“Forget it.”
He stepped past Tong.
Tong caught his arm. Pae pulled free harder than he meant to.
“Don’t.”
Tong released him at once.
The space between them changed.
Pae hated it.
He forced himself to speak before a joke could take over.
“I’m sorry.”
Tong said nothing.
“For leaving you,” Pae continued. “For not checking my battery. For thinking you’d go before I came back.”
“You didn’t think I would go.”
Pae lifted his head.
“You thought I wanted to,” Tong said.
The words landed cleanly because they were true.
Pae leaned against the folded table. “I didn’t know what tonight was.”
“You could have asked.”
“I was scared you’d say it was nothing.”
Tong’s expression softened, but not enough to let Pae escape what he had admitted.
Pae went on. “I thought if I treated it like a joke first, it wouldn’t be so embarrassing if you did the same.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
“I know now.”
Tong rubbed the red marks across his fingers.
“You’ve carried that all night,” Pae said.
“Yes.”
“Let me hold it.”
“No.”
“I’m trying to help.”
“Help me by staying.”
Pae’s hand stopped between them.
From somewhere beyond the fence, Duang called his name.
Pae closed his eyes.
Tong glanced towards the opening. “Go.”
“I’m not going alone.”
Tong turned back to him.
“You’re coming,” Pae said. “Whatever Duang has lost this time, we find it together.”
“I can wait here.”
“I know.”
That was exactly why Pae did not want to leave him there.
He picked up one handle of the paper bag. Tong kept hold of the other.
Neither let go.
They carried it between them out of the service path.
Duang had emptied Jamie’s bag onto a bench again.
Jamie stood beside him with both hands on his hips.
“I said not to cut it.”
“We haven’t cut anything.”
“You’re holding scissors.”
“They’re small.”
“That doesn’t help.”
Marvis pressed along the bottom of the tote. “There is something inside the lining.”
Duang turned when Pae and Tong approached. “You’re here.”
“You shouted.”
“I found the charm.”
“You have it?”
“Not yet.”
Pae returned the paper bag to Tong and took Jamie’s tote.
The lining had torn farther near the corner. He pushed two fingers through the gap and searched until a thin chain caught beneath his nail.
“Scissors.”
Jamie pointed at him. “Small cut.”
“I know.”
“Very small.”
“I heard you.”
Duang handed over a tiny pair from his decoration bag.
Pae widened the opening by less than a centimetre and pulled out the silver music-note charm.
Duang made such a loud sound that several people nearby turned.
He took the charm and held it against his chest. “I knew it was there.”
“You accused the studio guard,” Jamie said.
“I said he might have missed it.”
“You asked whether he searched the rubbish.”
“He should be thorough.”
Qin checked the clasp. “It isn’t damaged.”
Duang’s shoulders finally relaxed. He held out the anniversary gift, and Qin helped him fasten the charm to the ribbon again.
Pae stood beside Tong.
The argument had not disappeared, but it no longer pressed against everything else. It waited between them.
Jamie repacked his bag, complaining each time he found another object Duang had removed. Marvis folded a shirt before returning it. Kim appeared with grilled chicken and watched without asking questions.
Duang finished tying the charm and turned.
His eyes moved from Pae to Tong and then to the paper bag.
“Pae.”
“What?”
“Go.”
Pae frowned. “Where?”
“With Tong.”
Jamie nodded immediately. “Yes.”
“Five minutes ago, all of you needed me.”
“We found the charm,” Duang said.
“Jamie still needs help.”
“We finished,” Marvis replied.
Jamie lifted their krathong. One side had more flowers than the other, but it looked stable.
Pae inspected the candle. “It’s crooked.”
“So is your personality,” Jamie said.
Pae stared at him.
Jamie smiled. “We’re fine.”
Qin picked up Duang’s anniversary gift. “We can manage.”
“You?” Pae asked Duang.
Duang looked offended. “Yes.”
“You lost a charm inside a bag you weren’t carrying.”
“And we found it.”
“Pae found it,” Jamie said.
Duang pointed at him. “That isn’t the point.”
Pae glanced at Tong.
Tong said nothing.
He was leaving the decision to Pae, which felt more uncomfortable than being ordered to go.
“What about releasing the krathongs?” Pae asked. “We were supposed to do that together.”
“The main platform closes at ten fifteen,” Kim said.
“You checked?”
“I read the sign.”
“You read signs for pleasure.”
“They’re there to be read.”
Duang took Pae’s dead phone from his pocket.
Pae reached for it. “What are you doing?”
“It needs charging.”
“Give it back.”
“No.”
“Duang.”
Duang connected it to Kim’s power bank and put both inside his decoration bag. “I’ll keep it until the battery is full.”
“You lose objects.”
“I found the charm.”
“You lost the charm.”
“That was earlier.”
Qin took the bag from Duang.
Pae held out his hand. “Qin.”
“No.”
“You too?”
“Go.”
Pae turned to Jamie.
Jamie lifted both hands. “Do not involve me.”
“You started this.”
“I regret many things.”
Marvis took Jamie’s bag and krathong. “We are fine.”
They were trying to help.
Pae understood that. He did not know what to do with it.
He was used to being the one who stayed behind. He fixed ribbons, found charms, collected boxes and charged everybody else’s phones. Leaving while they handled things without him felt wrong. Selfish, even.
Tong shifted beside him. The paper bag crackled.
Pae turned.
Tong did not ask. He only waited.
“All right,” Pae said.
Duang smiled immediately.
“But if you lose my phone, I’m moving into Qin’s room.”
Qin answered without hesitation. “No.”
Duang looked at him. “Why his room?”
“Because you’ll search there first.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It makes enough sense.”
Pae stepped away from the bench.
Tong turned towards the quieter side of the festival, and Pae followed.
After several steps, Pae glanced back.
Duang stood in front of Qin with the album in both hands, speaking too quickly despite the fact that they had already been together for a year. Qin listened without interrupting.
Jamie tried to watch Pae and Tong while Marvis pulled him towards the food stalls.
Kim caught Pae staring and waved him away.
Pae faced forward again. “They planned that.”
“The phone theft?”
“All of it.”
“They decided after we came back.”
“How do you know?”
“I was there.”
“That has never stopped Duang from planning badly.”
“Kim would have told me.”
Pae considered this. “That’s true.”
They passed the end of the craft lane and entered a quieter row of food stalls. Most visitors had moved towards the river. The paths remained busy, but there was enough room to walk without being struck by somebody’s shopping bag every few seconds.
Pae’s feet hurt.
He had worn sensible shoes. Sensible shoes apparently had limits.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere quieter.”
“To show me the bag?”
“Yes.”
“Finally.”
The red marks across Tong’s fingers were still visible.
“Let me carry it.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“You’ll open it.”
“I can control myself.”
“You tried twice.”
“That was earlier. I’ve grown.”
“In one hour?”
“I’m very adaptable.”
Tong held the bag away from him.
Pae laughed, and the last sharp edge of their argument eased. It was not gone, but it had become easier to carry.
They passed a stall selling fried dough. Tong bought one small packet and handed it to Pae.
“You promised food.”
“That is food.”
“There are four pieces.”
“You can have three.”
“That isn’t how dates work.”
Tong stopped.
Pae stopped too.
“Dates?” Tong asked.
Pae bit into a piece so he would not have to answer.
Tong took the packet from him and ate one.
“You stole mine.”
“You had three.”
“I had two after you took one.”
“You were talking instead of eating.”
“That is not permission.”
Tong began walking again.
Pae followed, smiling.
They reached a side path marked for the secondary river release area. Strings of warm lights hung between the trees. Closed university activity booths lined one side, and a low garden wall ran along the other.
The music from the main stage faded behind them.
A volunteer near the entrance told visitors that the smaller platform would close at ten.
Pae checked the clock beside one booth.
Nine twelve.
“We have time,” Tong said.
“You planned the closing time too?”
“I checked it.”
“Of course you did.”
Tong stopped beside an empty bench beneath a tree.
Pae sat and stretched one foot forward. “My legs are finished.”
“You volunteered to walk everywhere.”
“I’m generous.”
“You said that already.”
“It remains true.”
Tong placed the paper bag on the bench between them.
Pae sat straighter.
Tong unfolded the top and reached inside. The paper crackled loudly along the quieter path.
He lifted out a shallow cardboard box and removed the lid.
Pae stared.
Inside was a krathong.
One side sat higher than the other. The folded banana leaves were different sizes and pointed in several directions. Yellow and white flowers surrounded a candle that leaned despite the generous amount of wax holding it in place.
A folded piece of paper rested beneath one flower.
Pae covered his mouth.
Tong watched him.
Pae tried not to laugh.
He really did.
A sound escaped anyway.
Tong put the lid back on. “No.”
Pae grabbed the box. “Wait.”
“You laughed.”
“I was surprised.”
“You’re still laughing.”
“I’m not.”
He was.
Tong reached for the box.
Pae held it against his chest. “It’s mine.”
Tong’s hand stopped.
Pae’s laughter faded with it.
Tong sat beside him. Their knees touched.
Pae removed the lid again.
Up close, the krathong was worse.
It was also impossible not to see how much work had gone into it. Each leaf had been pinned carefully. A flower covered a tear near the base. The candle had enough wax around it to survive almost anything except standing straight.
“You made this.”
“Yes.”
“By yourself?”
“Kim watched.”
“That explains why the building survived.”
“There was no fire.”
Pae turned. “There was almost a fire.”
“No.”
“You answered too quickly.”
“The first candle was wrong.”
“How can a candle be wrong?”
“It leaned.”
Pae pointed towards the candle. “This one leans.”
“Less.”
Pae laughed again, quieter now.
Tong faced the path, but his mouth was trying not to smile.
“I could have bought one.”
“You really could have.”
“There were nicer ones.”
“Everywhere.”
Tong gave him a flat look.
Pae pressed his lips together.
They sat with the box between them while people passed along the path. Somewhere near the river, a child complained that his flowers had fallen off.
Pae touched one of the folded leaves. “When did you make it?”
“Two nights ago.”
“Before I invited you.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Tong rested his forearms on his knees. “Last year wasn’t ours.”
Pae waited.
“It was Duang and Qin’s night,” Tong continued. “You were helping Duang. I was talking to someone I thought was real.”
Pae’s fingers tightened against the cardboard.
“I know Cherry was you,” Tong said. “That isn’t what I mean.”
“What do you mean?”
“I answered her as if she was somebody else.”
Pae lowered his eyes to the krathong. “I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“No. I mean it.”
“I know that too.”
Pae ran his thumb over the edge of the lid.
“I thought you would hate me.”
“I was angry.”
“You should have been.”
“I still am sometimes.”
The honesty hurt, but Pae preferred it to careful silence.
“That’s fair.”
“I didn’t hate you.”
“That would have been easier.”
“For you.”
“Yes.”
Pae gave a small laugh. “I know what to do when people hate me. I apologise, stay away and let them say whatever they need to say.”
“I didn’t want you to stay away.”
“You kept appearing.”
“So did you.”
“I was already there.”
“At the food court near the music building?”
“They have good noodles.”
“You hate those noodles.”
“I had other reasons.”
Tong almost smiled.
Pae returned his attention to the krathong. “Did you make this because you wanted to replace last year?”
“No.”
“Good. Duang would recreate the entire festival. I refuse to dress as Cherry again.”
“I’ve seen the photographs.”
Pae turned so quickly his knee struck the bench.
“What photographs?”
Tong said nothing.
“Tong.”
“Jamie showed Kim.”
“I’m going to kill both of them.”
“You looked nice.”
Pae stared at him.
Tong’s ears had gone slightly red.
Pae forgot his anger for a second. “That wasn’t me.”
“It was.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes.”
Pae picked at a loose corner of the box. “Sometimes I think you liked her more.”
Tong did not answer immediately.
Pae wished he had kept the thought to himself, but it was too late now.
“Cherry knew when to message you,” he continued. “She didn’t talk too much because I was scared you’d recognise me. She was patient.”
“You are not patient.”
“That’s my point.”
“You remember everything I tell you.”
“So did she.”
“You stayed awake when I had late rehearsals.”
“She did.”
Tong shifted towards him. “Pae.”
Pae stopped touching the box.
“I liked the messages,” Tong said. “I liked that you remembered my schedule. I liked the food pictures. I liked that you knew when I was tired.”
Pae kept his eyes on the krathong.
“I hated the lie,” Tong added. “I still hate that part.”
“I know.”
“But you were the one doing those things.”
“With a better voice.”
“It wasn’t better.”
Pae looked offended. “You believed it.”
“That does not mean it was good.”
“You spoke to me for weeks.”
“I was polite.”
“You’re not polite.”
Tong’s mouth twitched.
Pae laughed, though it did not last.
“What do you want now?”
Tong touched the side of the box. “I didn’t make this for Cherry.”
Their hands rested close together against the cardboard.
“I made it because I wanted one thing tonight that belonged to us,” Tong said. “Not Duang. Not the whole group. Not last year.”
“Not Cherry.”
“No.”
Pae focused on the worst-folded leaf because his eyes had begun to sting, which was embarrassing.
“It really is ugly.”
“I know.”
“I’m keeping it.”
“It goes in the river.”
“I know. It’s still mine first.”
Tong turned towards him.
“You carried this all evening?” Pae asked.
“Yes.”
“While I kept leaving?”
“Yes.”
“You should have shown me earlier.”
“You were busy.”
“I would have stopped.”
“I know.”
Pae turned. “You know?”
“That’s why I waited.”
Pae had no joke for that.
He reached for Tong’s hand instead.
Tong let him take it.
The red marks from the paper handles crossed his fingers. Pae rubbed one gently with his thumb.
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
Tong did not tell him he already knew. He squeezed Pae’s hand once.
An announcement carried from the main grounds, reminding visitors that the secondary platform would close soon.
Pae lifted the krathong. “We should release it.”
Tong nodded.
They stood.
Tong reached for the box, but Pae moved it away.
“I’m carrying it.”
“It leans.”
“I noticed.”
“The candle might fall.”
“You made it.”
“That is why I know.”
Pae held the box flat with both hands. “I’ll be careful.”
Tong folded the paper bag and tucked it beneath his arm.
They walked towards the river.
The secondary release platform was quieter than the main one.
A short line formed beside the old riverside steps. Volunteers helped visitors light their candles and warned everyone about the wet stones.
Small points of candlelight floated across the dark water.
Pae and Tong joined the line.
Tong kept one hand beneath the box even though Pae was holding it securely.
“You don’t trust me.”
“I don’t trust the base.”
“You made the base.”
“Yes.”
“That isn’t reassuring.”
At the preparation table, a volunteer handed Tong a long lighter.
Tong tried to light the candle.
The flame went out.
He tried again.
Nothing.
Pae watched the third attempt fail. “Bad candle?”
Tong handed him the lighter.
Pae flicked it on. The wind killed the flame before it reached the wick.
Tong folded his arms.
Pae pointed at him. “Do not say anything.”
“I didn’t.”
“You were about to.”
A volunteer came over with another lighter and shielded the flame with one hand. The wick caught at last.
“Thank you,” Tong said.
Pae watched the small flame steady. “It likes her more.”
“She knows what she’s doing.”
“You chose a disloyal candle.”
“I chose the only one left after the first one bent.”
“You keep blaming candles for your actions.”
The line moved.
A family ahead of them lowered three krathongs at once. The youngest child tried to follow his into the river, and his father caught him around the waist.
Then it was Pae and Tong’s turn.
Pae stepped down carefully. The stone was wet beneath his shoe.
Tong caught his arm.
“I’m fine.”
“I know.”
Tong kept hold of him.
They crouched together on the lowest safe step.
The krathong tilted towards one side.
Pae laughed. “It’s already trying to die.”
“Hold it straight.”
“I am.”
“You’re not.”
“You made one side higher.”
Tong placed his fingers beneath the base. “Together.”
Pae nodded.
They lowered it onto the water.
For one second, it tipped far enough that Pae thought the candle would fall. Tong caught the edge while Pae grabbed his sleeve.
The flame shook but stayed lit.
“It almost sank,” Pae said, laughing.
“It didn’t.”
“It came back.”
The krathong bumped against the stone and turned in a slow circle.
Tong pushed it gently with two fingers.
This time the current caught it.
It floated away, still leaning.
“It can’t even go straight.”
“It’s floating.”
“Barely.”
“It counts.”
They remained crouched until it joined the other lights.
Pae watched the uneven shape turn once more before settling into the current.
“What did you wish for?”
“I didn’t.”
“You’re supposed to.”
“I was stopping it from sinking.”
“You had two nights to think.”
Tong turned towards him. “I didn’t make it for a wish.”
Tong’s hand was still around Pae’s arm. When he began to let go, Pae caught his wrist.
Tong glanced down.
Pae kept hold of him.
“My wish was that Duang never asks me to organise another anniversary.”
“That won’t happen.”
“I know. I wasted it.”
They climbed back up the steps and moved beside the low railing.
The krathong had drifted farther out. It remained easy to recognise because it leaned more than all the others.
Pae rested his arms on the railing. Tong stood close enough that their shoulders touched.
“There was paper under the candle,” Pae said.
Tong faced the river.
“What did you write?”
“Nothing.”
“You wrote something.”
“No.”
“I saw it.”
“You weren’t supposed to.”
“You put it where I could see it.”
“It was beneath the flowers.”
“The flowers were arranged badly.”
Tong sighed.
Pae smiled. “Was it my name?”
Tong did not answer.
“It was.”
“You talk too much.”
“You like that.”
“I said I did.”
Pae watched the lights on the water. People spoke behind them. A child complained about wanting another candle. One of the volunteers began clearing the preparation table.
“When did you decide?” Pae asked.
“Decide what?”
“That you wanted this.”
Tong leaned against the railing. “I don’t know.”
“You always know.”
“Not this time.”
“Was it before I told you?”
Tong took some time to answer.
“I was interested in Cherry.”
Pae’s smile faded slightly.
“I was interested in you before I understood why you felt familiar,” Tong continued.
Pae turned towards him.
“I didn’t know what it meant. Then you told me, and everything became worse.”
“Worse?”
“I was angry. I still wanted to see you.”
“That does sound difficult.”
“It was.”
Pae smiled a little. “Good.”
Tong bumped his shoulder with his own.
Then his voice became more serious. “I still don’t like what you did.”
“I know.”
“If we do this, I might be angry about it again.”
“That’s fair.”
“And you can’t joke every time I try to talk about it.”
“That seems unfair.”
“It isn’t.”
“I’m very funny.”
“Sometimes.”
Pae turned to him, offended.
Tong did not rescue him.
Pae faced the river again. “I don’t want to be Cherry again.”
“I don’t want Cherry.”
The answer came at once.
Tong turned to face him fully.
“I want Pae.”
There was no long speech around it. Only his name.
Pae had plenty of jokes he could have used. None of them came out.
“You make that sound serious.”
“It is.”
“You know I’m annoying.”
“Yes.”
“I interfere.”
“Yes.”
“I take food without asking.”
“I’ve seen you.”
“I insult your things.”
“The bag.”
“And the krathong.”
“Especially the krathong.”
Pae stepped closer.
Tong remained where he was.
“Are you going to kiss me?” Pae asked.
Tong’s eyes dropped briefly towards his mouth. “I was going to ask.”
“You made me carry your terrible krathong. You can ask.”
Tong touched Pae’s cheek, careful enough to make Pae lean into his hand before he could become embarrassed by it.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Yes.”
Tong kissed him.
The first touch was soft. Pae moved too soon, and their noses bumped.
Tong pulled back slightly.
Pae laughed against his mouth. “You hit me.”
“You moved.”
“You were slow.”
Tong kissed him again.
Pae caught the front of his shirt and held on.
The second kiss was easier, though a volunteer dropped a metal lighter onto the table behind them and made them both smile at the sound.
Tong’s thumb moved once against Pae’s cheek.
When they separated, neither went far.
Pae noticed that Tong’s ears were red and reached up to touch one.
Tong caught his hand. “Don’t.”
“You’re embarrassed.”
“No.”
“You are.”
Tong held Pae’s hand away from his ear but did not release it.
Pae looked at their joined hands. “So what are we?”
Tong frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I said I want you.”
“That could mean several things.”
“It doesn’t.”
Pae tried not to smile and failed. “I want you too.”
Tong’s fingers tightened around his.
They turned back towards the river.
Their krathong had moved farther out. Its candle was difficult to separate from the others now.
Pae watched until he could no longer tell which light belonged to them.
Then he glanced at Tong. “Do we have to go back?”
“Yes.”
“They’re going to be horrible.”
“Yes.”
“Jamie will ask questions.”
“Don’t answer.”
“Duang will stare at our faces.”
“Let him.”
“Kim already knows.”
“Kim thinks he knows.”
“He does know.”
Tong picked up the folded paper bag from beside the railing.
Pae stared at it. “You kept that?”
“There’s a bin near the exit.”
“I thought it had emotional value.”
“You called it ugly.”
“It carried my gift.”
“The gift is in the river.”
“It was mine first.”
“You said that already.”
“I mean it.”
They started back along the path.
Tong reached for Pae’s hand without making a ceremony of it. His fingers touched Pae’s and waited.
Holding hands felt stranger than Pae expected.
He was usually the one walking ahead, choosing directions, pulling everyone through crowds and checking that no one had been left behind.
When the path narrowed, Tong moved half a step in front.
Pae let him.
Near the closed activity booths, footsteps sounded behind them.
Pae turned.
No one was there.
A flash of yellow fabric disappeared behind one booth.
Pae stopped.
Tong followed his attention. “What?”
“Our friends are terrible.”
The hem of Jamie’s bright yellow shirt was visible beneath the table covering.
Pae cupped his hands around his mouth. “You can come out.”
Silence.
Tong kept walking.
Pae allowed himself to be led away.
After several steps, Duang, Qin, Jamie, Marvis and Kim appeared from behind the booth, trying to look as if they had been walking there normally.
Duang carried the anniversary album. Qin held a bag of empty food containers. Jamie and Marvis had two fresh packets from the stalls. Kim carried Pae’s phone and the power bank.
Pae stopped.
They stopped too.
“What are you doing?”
“Walking,” Duang said.
“All five of you?”
“Yes.”
“The main river platform is the other way.”
Duang turned towards Qin.
Qin did not help him.
Marvis said, “I told them this would not work.”
“Thank you.”
Duang’s eyes dropped to Pae and Tong’s hands.
His mouth opened.
Pae pointed at him. “Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You made a face.”
“I was breathing.”
“Breathe normally.”
Qin placed a hand over Duang’s mouth. “We should go to the shuttle stop.”
Duang made an offended sound against his palm.
Kim stepped forward and returned Pae’s phone. “Thirty-eight percent.”
“You charged it?”
“Duang forgot.”
“I remembered,” Duang said after Qin lowered his hand. “After ten minutes.”
“You were showing me the album,” Qin replied.
“That was important.”
Qin held up the gift. The silver charm hung safely from the blue ribbon.
Pae smiled. “Did you like it?”
Qin turned towards Duang. “Yes.”
Duang immediately forgot he was supposed to be watching Pae and moved closer to him.
Jamie lifted one of the food bags. “We bought coconut pancakes.”
“For everyone?”
“Yes.”
Pae reached for one.
Tong kept hold of his other hand.
Jamie noticed, his eyebrows rising before Marvis nudged him.
Pae took a pancake and held it towards Tong.
Tong leaned down and bit into it.
Duang made a small sound.
Qin covered his mouth again.
Pae laughed.
They walked back through the festival together.
The crowd had begun to thin. Stall workers packed flowers into boxes and folded tables. Families carried sleeping children towards the exits. The main stage lights dimmed as the final programme ended.
Duang and Qin walked ahead, sharing the anniversary album between them. Duang pointed out every page even though Qin had already seen it.
Jamie and Marvis followed. Jamie carried the food while Marvis listened to him explain why their krathong had leaned slightly to the left.
Kim walked behind them, replying to messages.
Pae stayed beside Tong.
His feet hurt. His battery was still low. He had missed most of the performances and nearly every food stall he had wanted to try.
He ate another coconut pancake and felt Tong’s thumb brush the side of his hand.
That was enough to make the rest of the evening seem less important.
Near the east entrance, a volunteer directed them towards the shuttle queue.
The line was long.
Duang groaned.
Jamie opened the food bag. “We’ll finish everything before the shuttle comes.”
“You say that as though it’s bad,” Pae said.
They joined the end of the queue.
Tong stepped back to let an older couple pass with a large krathong tray. Their hands separated.
Pae noticed at once.
Before he could become embarrassed by that, Tong reached for him again.
Pae let himself be drawn back to his side.
No one asked what had happened. No announcement was needed.
Duang turned, saw their joined hands and smiled.
This time, Pae did not tell him to stop.
The queue moved forward.
Tong led him with it, and Pae followed.