Chapter Text
Orm Sethratanapong was dying of boredom.
The business meeting had dragged on for three hours now, and while her father was deeply engrossed in discussing export logistics with their Hong Kong partners, Orm (as everyone called her) had resorted to mindlessly scrolling through her phone under the conference table. She'd already gone through Instagram twice, replied to all her messages, and even played a few rounds of Candy Crush.
In a moment of desperation, she opened the dating app she'd downloaded mostly as a joke. She hadn't actually used it much in Bangkok—her friends teased her enough about being perpetually single – but here in Hong Kong, what was the harm? She'd be flying back tomorrow anyway.
Swipe left. Left. Left. Right—oh, wait.
Orm paused, her thumb hovering over the screen. The woman's profile showed someone with an understated elegance that made Orm sit up straighter. Lingling Kwong, 29, her profile read. The photos weren't the usual carefully curated dating app shots—instead, they captured moments: Ling (as her bio preferred) caught mid-laugh at what looked like a group dinner, focused intently on a pottery wheel, candid in oversized glasses while reading at a café.
Before she could overthink it, Orm swiped right.
It was a match.
Her heart did a little flip before reality caught up. Right. She was leaving tomorrow. Still, feeling particularly bold (or maybe just particularly bored), she typed out a message:
"Wow, my flight's in six hours. Should I stay for you? 😏"
She added the emoji to make it clear she was joking. Mostly joking. Probably joking.
The meeting finally ended, and Orm found herself caught up in a whirlwind of last-minute preparations, souvenir shopping, and packing. By the time she was settled at her gate at Hong Kong International Airport, she'd almost forgotten about the dating app entirely.
Lingling was having a perfectly normal Tuesday when her phone buzzed with a notification she hadn't seen in months. Someone had matched with her on the dating app her best friend Zoe had installed "for her own good"—and then promptly messaged her.
She almost ignored it. The app had been Zoe’s idea, not hers, and she'd only kept it because deleting it felt like too much effort. But something made her open the message.
"Wow, my flight's in six hours. Should I stay for you? 😏"
Lingling found herself smiling despite herself. The sender's profile showed a bright-faced girl with an infectious grin, posing with various foods and art installations. Orm Sethratanapong, 22, visiting from Bangkok. There was something endearing about the profile. Every photo radiated warmth.
She checked the timestamp on the message. Six hours ago.
"Guess I missed my chance," she typed back, not expecting a response. "Safe flight?"
The reply came almost immediately: "Made it back to Bangkok! But you know what they say about missed connections... they make the best stories 😊"
Lingling looked at her phone for a long moment. She had reports to review, flights to prepare for, and absolutely no reason to continue this conversation with someone who lived in another country.
"Oh?" she wrote back. "And what kind of story would this be?"
The first real conversation started with a photo of airplane food.
"Guess what I'm having for dinner?" Lingling's message came with a picture of a sadly wilted airline salad.
"Oh no," Orm replied immediately. "Please tell me that's not what SkyAsia is feeding their own flight attendants?"
"First class gets the good stuff. We get..." Lingling sent another photo, this time of a mysteriously beige pudding. "...adventure."
"This is a crime against food," Orm declared. "Where are you headed next?"
"Amsterdam. Then Munich. Then finally back to Hong Kong in five days." A pause, then: "Though I keep hoping they'll add more Asia routes. Haven't visited mom's side in Thailand for ages."
"Oh? I didn't know you were part Thai!"
"Dad's from Hong Kong, mom's from Kalasin. And I don’t really say it—my Thai is absolutely terrible."
"We can work on that," Orm replied with a grinning emoji. "Let me know when you're ready for your first lesson. Anyway, your route sounds glamorous."
"Says the food company heiress 😏"
"Speaking of which..." Orm switched to sending a video of her test kitchen, showing a tray of vividly purple crackers. "Today's attempt at taro-flavored rice crisps. They taste fine but..."
"But they look like they could glow in the dark?"
"Exactly! Watch—" Orm turned off her kitchen lights, and sure enough, the crackers seemed to emit a faint purple glow. Her delighted giggle came through with the video.
Lingling, fighting jetlag in her London hotel room, found herself smiling at her phone. "Send me some? For science?"
"To London? They might be classified as radioactive material by the time they arrive."
Over the next months, their conversations moved seamlessly between texts, voice messages, and late-night FaceTime calls coordinated across time zones. Lingling sent photos from different European cities—a rainy morning at Heathrow, sunset from her Paris hotel room, a quiet moment in an Amsterdam airport lounge. But her favorite photos to send were of airline food—specifically, the eggs.
"The things they do to innocent eggs in airplane kitchens should be illegal," she'd message.
"Come try my kai krata instead," Orm would reply, sending videos of perfectly crispy-edged eggs, yolks still gloriously runny. "Dad says we should add this to our airline catering line."
"...I might have to change airlines just for this," Lingling replied.
Orm found herself developing more egg dishes after that, each photo earning an enthusiastic response from Lingling. Meanwhile, Lingling kept sending behind-the-scenes peeks at SkyAsia crew life, her messages switching naturally between English and the Thai phrases she was relearning.
"The durian incident of 2024," Orm explained solemnly during one of their FaceTime calls, "shall never be spoken of again."
"That bad?"
"We had to evacuate the entire floor. Dad still won't let me work with durian unsupervised."
Lingling's laugh was soft but genuine, the kind that made her nose scrunch slightly. Orm found herself trying to make Lingling laugh more often, just to see that expression.
They talked about everything and nothing. Lingling shared stories about difficult passengers and beautiful moments above the clouds. Orm told her about growing up in the family business, about her secret dream of opening a small experimental dessert café someday.
"You should do it," Lingling said one night, voice heavy with sleep. She was in her Hong Kong apartment for once, curled up in bed with her laptop.
"Yeah?"
"Mhmm. I'd fly there just to try whatever weird purple food you're making."
"Careful," Orm teased, "I might hold you to that."
Days turned into weeks. Weeks became months. Somewhere between Lingling's flight schedules and Orm's product development deadlines, between sleepy good morning texts and midnight conversations, something shifted.
Their friends started noticing. Orm's group chat was filled with screenshots of her conversations with Lingling, accompanied by keyboard smashes and "JUST DATE ALREADY" messages. Meanwhile, Lingling's best friend Zoe cornered her during their regular coffee meetup in Hong Kong.
"Zoe thinks I'm dating someone," Lingling admitted during one call.
"Oh?" Orm tried to keep her voice casual. "What gave her that idea?"
"Apparently I've been"—Lingling made air quotes—"'disgustingly happy' lately."
"Disgustingly?"
"Her words, not mine." Lingling paused, then added softly, "But maybe she has a point about the happy part."
The words hung in the air between them.
It started on one of their late-night FaceTime calls. Orm was in her test kitchen, working on perfecting her kai krata recipe, while Lingling was in her Paris hotel room, looking tired but content after a long flight.
"Rate today's eggs?" Orm asked, tilting her phone to show the perfectly crispy edges of her latest attempt.
"Cruel," Lingling groaned. "You know I just had another sad airplane omelette."
"You could always try the real thing," Orm said, trying to sound casual. "You know, if you ever get tired of your fancy European routes."
Lingling was quiet for a moment, adjusting her glasses. "Bangkok's not really on my usual schedule."
"I mean..." Orm's heart was racing, but she kept her voice light. "If you really wanted to try my cooking that badly, you could always just come here."
"Could I?" There was something in Lingling's tone that made Orm look up at her screen. She was smiling that small, knowing smile that always made Orm's stomach flip.
"I dare you," Orm said, half-teasing, half-serious. "Next time you have time off, come here instead."
"You know what? Bet."
Orm nearly dropped her phone. "Wait, what?"
"I said bet." Lingling was already looking at something on her laptop. She looked back at the camera, her smile widening just slightly.
The next morning, Orm woke up to a notification. She expected their usual good morning message—instead, she found a screenshot of a flight confirmation.
"By the way," Lingling's message read, "I expect that kai krata to be perfect by the time I land. No pressure."
Orm stared at her phone for a full minute before panic set in. She opened her group chat:
OH MY GOD. SHE'S COMING. I DIDN'T THINK SHE'D ACTUALLY DO IT. WTF DO I WEAR.
Her friends' responses were immediate and unhelpful:
OMG
FINALLY
wear that crop top set you got last week
NO WEAR THE BLACK DRESS
BOTH. PACK BOTH.
"You're sure she's real?" Fah asked, filming with Orm's phone as they waited at Suvarnabhumi Airport. "Like, actually a flight attendant? Actually half-Thai? Actually coming?"
"Yes, yes, and oh god, I hope so." Orm had changed outfits twice in the airport bathroom (settling on the crop top set, but with a light jacket because she was trying to look effortless, not desperate), and was now pacing near the arrival gates with a small sign.
"Because if this is a catfish situation—"
"It's not! We've FaceTimed like a million times."
"I'm just saying, people can use really good filters these days."
"And why is your sign so stupid?" Fah asked, pointing at Orm's handmade "L00K WHO LANDED" sign, where the zeros were drawn as little eggs wearing SkyAsia uniform caps.
She'd almost thrown the sign away three times. Her friends were convinced it was too cheesy, but she had insisted it was cute. Now, watching the arrival board update to show Lingling's flight had landed, she wished she'd made a normal sign. Or no sign. Or maybe just sent a car instead of coming herself—
"It's not stupid!" Orm clutched the sign tighter. "See, zero means 'ling' in Chinese, so her friends always write her full name as '00K,' and I made the zeros eggs because she really likes eggs, and—"
"I don't get it."
"No, wait, it makes sense because—" Orm's voice got higher with each word as she tried to explain, panic rising. "Like, her name is Ling, which is zero, so two zeros for Ling-ling, and then K for Kwong, and—oh god, this is stupid isn't it? Do you have a pen? Maybe I can still change it—"
"That sign better be for me."
Orm turned so fast she nearly lost her balance. And there was Lingling, looking impossibly put together in a double denim ensemble, her carry-on suitcase beside her, a small smirk playing on her lips.
"I—" Orm started, then stopped, then laughed, because what else could she do? "Hi."
"Hi," Lingling said softly, and then they were both moving forward, meeting in the middle in a hug that was awkward for half a second before it wasn't, before it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
Behind them, Fah was still filming, barely containing her gleeful whispers of "Oh my god, she's real. And so hot. Orm, what the hell—"
"Okay, go home NOW," Orm stage-whispered, making shooing motions at her friend without letting go of Lingling. She could feel her quiet laugh against her shoulder.
Later, after they'd gotten Lingling settled in her hotel and had dinner at Orm's favorite local spot, they found themselves walking along the Chao Phraya River. The night was warm, the city lights reflecting off the water, and everything felt simultaneously surreal and perfectly right.
"How long are you staying?" Orm asked, trying to sound casual.
"Well," Lingling drew out the word, "I initially booked three days, but..." She pulled out her phone, tapped a few times, and showed Orm the screen. Her return flight was now scheduled for a week later.
"Just in case," she added, tucking her phone away. "If you want me to stay, that is."
Orm's answer was to lace their fingers together, squeezing gently.
The week passed in a blur of tourist attractions and quiet moments. They visited temples and markets, but also spent hours just existing in each other's space—Lingling looking at emails and schedules from Orm's test kitchen while Orm developed new recipes, getting coffee together in the mornings, finding all the ways their online connection translated into real life.
It wasn't perfect. Lingling was still more reserved in person than she was over text, taking time to warm up to physical affection. Orm sometimes talked too fast when she was excited, her English mixing with Thai in ways that left Lingling endearingly confused. But these imperfections only made everything feel more real.
On Lingling's last night in Bangkok, they had dinner at a rooftop restaurant overlooking the city. Neither of them wanted to talk about the goodbye looming over them.
"You know," Lingling said finally, playing with her wine glass, "Hong Kong has some pretty good food too."
Orm looked up, hope blooming in her chest. "Oh?"
"Mhmm. Someone should really show you around sometime." Lingling's eyes met hers, warm and certain. "Your turn to book a flight, don't you think?"
Orm grinned, already pulling out her phone. "Bet."
The night before Lingling's flight back to Hong Kong, Orm finally finished editing the TikTok she'd been working on.
"Talking to a foreigner is fun until..." the trending sound played over clips of their FaceTime calls—Lingling in her uniform sending sleepy smiles from various airport lounges, Orm showing off her latest kai krata variations, both of them laughing at Lingling's attempts to pronounce Thai ingredients correctly.
Then the music switched: "She books a flight to see you."
The video cut to Fah's shaky footage from the airport - Orm nervously explaining her "L00K WHO LANDED" sign with its egg-shaped zeros in SkyAsia caps ("It's because zero means 'ling' in Chinese, and she likes eggs, and—"), completely missing Lingling's arrival behind her. Then the moment Orm finally turned around, their awkward-then-perfect first hug, while Fah whispered excitedly behind the camera.
Orm hesitated over the post button, then felt her phone buzz with a message from Lingling: Gate C7. Boarding in 20 minutes.
She pressed post, then replied: Looking at flights to Hong Kong already.
Three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again. Finally: Good. My mom's asking when she gets to meet you anyway.
Orm smiled, screenshotted a flight confirmation for next month, and hit send.