Chapter Text
Scene 1: Jealousy on Ice
The music thudded heavy through the floor, the kind of bass that settled into your bones and made conversation pointless. Red lights pulsed like a warning through the crowded room, heat and sweat mingling with the sharp bite of alcohol. It was the kind of party where no one remembered how it started—only that it wouldn’t end well.
Pond stepped inside with a lazy smile, one arm slung around the waist of a girl whose name he hadn’t asked. She laughed too loud at something he hadn’t said and leaned in close like she belonged there. Her perfume was strong—sweet and artificial. It clung to his shirt.
He scanned the room, eyes casual but deliberate. And there—half-hidden behind a thick pillar, lit by the occasional flash of strobe—was Phuwin.
Phuwin wasn’t alone.
The girl in his arms was tall, legs bare, hands all over him like she owned the rights. Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, her mouth pressed just below his ear. Phuwin didn’t pull away. He let her touch him. Let her smile into his skin.
Something sharp coiled in Pond’s stomach.
He didn’t let it show. Not really. His grip on the girl beside him tightened just a little. He tilted his head like he was saying something funny, and she laughed again, tipping her drink dangerously close to spilling. Pond’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.
Phuwin looked up.
Just for a second. Their eyes locked across the crowd—static in the chaos. Phuwin didn’t move. He just watched. His expression unreadable, mouth slightly parted like he’d meant to speak but forgot what the words were.
Pond was the one to look away first.
“Drinks?” he asked, already guiding the girl toward the bar without waiting for an answer.
—————
The hallway upstairs was quieter—barely. The bass thudded faintly through the floorboards, like the party didn’t want to be forgotten. Pond pushed open the first door he found and walked in without thinking.
The girl followed close behind, giggling as she pressed herself into him, her lips brushing his jaw before he’d even turned to shut the door. Her hands moved quickly—confident, practiced. Pond let her, let the kiss happen, let her grind her body against his like it meant something.
But his hands stayed still at her waist. His eyes flicked toward the doorknob.
The moment fractured.
The door opened.
It wasn’t wide—just enough to see. Just enough to stop everything.
Phuwin stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the dim light from the hall. One hand rested on the frame like he’d been leaning there for a while. A drink dangled from his fingers, half-forgotten.
He didn’t say anything at first. Just looked.
His gaze slid over the girl’s body, still clinging to Pond like she didn’t understand what had changed. Then up—slowly—to Pond’s face. And when their eyes met, something shifted in Phuwin’s. Something dark.
He smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt your little performance.”
Pond didn’t blink.
“You always walk into rooms without knocking?” His voice was quiet, low and unreadable.
Phuwin tilted his head, like he was trying to decide if this was worth the fight. Or maybe he was waiting to be invited to start one.
Instead, he just gave a shrug. “My bad,” he said, flatly, and pulled the door closed behind him.
Click.
The silence was instant.
Pond exhaled, sharp and shallow. The girl tried to keep touching him, maybe said something he didn’t hear.
He stepped away.
“Not tonight.”
She didn’t argue.
When she left, Pond didn’t move. Just stood there, staring at the door like he wanted to open it and chase something down—but didn’t know what he’d say if he did.
—————
Scene 2 – Unspoken Tension
Pond moved through the party, his mind still spinning. The music around him was loud, drowning everything out, but his thoughts were still stuck in that room upstairs. He shouldn’t have let it bother him. He shouldn’t care. But the feeling wouldn’t go away.
Phuwin’s eyes.
He shook his head. He could pretend everything was fine.
But every few moments, his mind went back to that glance, that subtle, loaded look Phuwin had given him. It wasn’t enough to make him angry, not exactly—but it was there, like something that didn’t quite fit right.
So, he walked. He tried to ignore it.
By the time he made it downstairs, his nerves were still frayed. He wasn’t sure what he wanted—maybe the noise, maybe just to be left alone—but instead, he found himself face to face with Phuwin again.
Phuwin was standing by the door, drink in hand, his posture lazy, relaxed, like he didn’t care. Like everything was easy for him. The party had faded behind him, as though it couldn’t touch the space around them.
Phuwin looked up when Pond walked in. They locked eyes, but neither of them said anything at first. The seconds stretched on, the air between them thick with something neither of them understood.
Pond’s mouth was dry. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this unsettled by someone’s presence. He shifted, trying to look casual, like it wasn’t bothering him. But the way Phuwin looked at him made it hard to breathe.
After a moment, Phuwin’s lips curved just a little, the smallest of smirks tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Guess your performance ended fast.”
It wasn’t an accusation. Not exactly. It was just a fact. A little mocking, but still too casual.
Pond’s heart skipped. He wasn’t sure why, but the words cut deeper than they should have. It wasn’t about the girl—he could tell himself that all night. But it was something in Phuwin’s voice, something so sure of what he’d seen.
“I didn’t realize I was putting on a show,” Pond replied, his voice a little sharper than he meant it to be. He shrugged it off, forcing a laugh. “But if it looked that way to you…”
Phuwin’s eyes flickered to the girl who had been by Pond’s side a few minutes ago, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he took another sip from his drink, his gaze never leaving Pond’s face. “You don’t have to put on a show,” he said, the words light, but there was something almost too knowing in his tone. “But you always make it look like you’re doing it for someone else.”
Pond felt a strange heat rise in his chest. He wanted to push back, say something to wipe the smirk off Phuwin’s face, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he laughed again, this time more hollow, more forced. “You think I care what you see?”
Phuwin didn’t answer right away. He just looked at him, like he was still trying to figure out what Pond was really saying. It wasn’t a look of judgment, or pity. It was something else—curious, almost.
“I didn’t say you did,” Phuwin said after a beat, his voice quiet. His eyes narrowed a little, though, like he was trying to get a read on Pond. “But you’ve been acting strange tonight.”
Pond froze for a split second before he turned his head, forcing his gaze to move away from Phuwin’s. He didn’t like how easily Phuwin could see through him. “I’m fine,” he muttered, trying to sound indifferent.
Phuwin took a small step forward, his gaze never wavering from Pond. “You sure about that?”
Pond’s chest tightened, something cold settling in his stomach. There was no way Phuwin could know. He couldn’t. But it still stung. The way he just knew . “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his words clipped.
Phuwin shrugged, finally taking another slow sip from his drink. “Guess we’ll see,” he said, voice light again, as if the moment had never happened. His tone didn’t change, but the implication was still there—quiet, and sharp, like he was waiting for Pond to crack.
Pond opened his mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come. He didn’t know what to say. So instead, he just turned and walked away. But even as he moved through the crowd, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Phuwin’s eyes were still on him, like an anchor that wouldn’t let him go.
——————
It was just a regular afternoon. Or it should’ve been.
The café just off campus was warm with the scent of coffee and the hum of conversations, familiar laughter bubbling from a booth near the back. Pond sat there, legs stretched out under the table, half-listening to Joong talk about some girl from class. It was routine. Easy. But his eyes kept drifting toward the entrance.
Phuwin was late.
Not that Pond was waiting for him. They were all supposed to meet—Joong, Pond, Fourth, and Phuwin. It wasn’t a plan he made. He didn’t even care. Not really.
But still, he checked the door every time it opened.
“Are you even listening?” Joong snapped a finger in front of Pond’s face.
“What?” Pond blinked. “Yeah. Sure. Something about her skirt?”
Joong rolled his eyes, but he smirked. “You’re hopeless.”
Before Pond could fire back, the bell above the café door jingled. His gaze flicked up on instinct, and there he was—Phuwin, walking in with the same unbothered calm he always had. Fourth was right behind him, laughing at something only the two of them seemed to find funny.
Pond didn’t smile. He didn’t wave. But he noticed the way Phuwin’s eyes paused for just a second too long on him, even as he moved to the table.
They didn’t greet each other.
“Finally,” Joong said. “I thought you two were ditching.”
Fourth dropped into the seat beside Phuwin. “Had to finish something first.”
“Or someone,” Joong muttered under his breath.
Fourth snorted. “Maybe.”
Phuwin didn’t laugh. He just looked down at the drink menu, expression unreadable. But Pond noticed the way he didn’t deny it. And worse—the way it bothered him.
“You’ve been busy,” Pond said, tone light but loaded.
Phuwin looked up slowly, his expression calm. “Should I have checked in with you?”
Joong chuckled, thinking it was just banter. But Pond’s smile tightened.
“No,” Pond replied. “You’re free to do whatever. Just seemed like your schedule’s been… full lately.”
Fourth arched an eyebrow. “What’s with the tone?”
Joong grinned, nudging Pond with his elbow. “You sound like his ex or something.”
Pond scoffed, but didn’t deny it.
“I’m not,” he muttered.
The air grew still for a second—too quiet under the surface chatter of the café. Then Joong leaned forward to break it.
“Anyway, anyone going to that pool party this weekend?” he asked.
Fourth perked up. “Yeah, I heard there’ll be a DJ. And a lot of wet shirts.”
“Classy,” Phuwin muttered.
Joong grinned at Pond. “You bringing your girl?”
“Maybe.” Pond’s tone was casual, but he turned to Phuwin when he said it, eyes lingering. “She wants to. I don’t know. Might be boring.”
“Then don’t bring her,” Phuwin said, eyes flicking down to his drink. “You don’t seem like the loyal type anyway.”
Joong and Fourth exchanged a quick look, unsure if it was a joke or not. But Pond leaned in, smiling just slightly.
“And you’d know about that?”
Phuwin looked up, slowly. “Not firsthand. Just observing.”
“Right.” Pond’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You do that a lot.”
No one said anything for a few seconds. Fourth cleared his throat and changed the subject—something about group assignments—but the sharp edge in the air stayed.
Pond didn’t know why it had stung. Why Phuwin’s quiet digs always landed harder than anyone else’s. It wasn’t like they meant anything.
It wasn’t like any of this meant anything.
But later, when they all left and Phuwin didn’t say goodbye—just gave him one last unreadable look across the café—Pond realized he hadn’t heard a single word Joong said in the last ten minutes.
___________
Scene 4 – Between the Waves
The pool party was in full swing. Music blared from the speakers set up by the makeshift DJ, while laughter, chatter, and the occasional splash echoed around the yard. The sun was beginning to dip, casting a warm, golden glow over the whole scene. People were scattered around—some by the pool, others with drinks in hand, and a few taking selfies with friends.
Pond leaned against the railing with a bottle in his hand, casually watching the group of girls near the edge of the pool. They were in the middle of filming a TikTok dance, and they waved him over.
“Pond! Come join us!” one of them called out.
Pond smiled, his usual laid-back expression in place as he walked over. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do. His girlfriend wasn’t with him—he’d come alone. Not that it mattered, really. He wasn’t the type to stick to one person. Not at a party, at least. Besides, his mind had wandered elsewhere tonight. He couldn’t quite pinpoint where, but it wasn’t here.
Not until he saw Phuwin.
It was hard to ignore. Phuwin had entered the party with his girlfriend, his hand naturally sliding down her back as they laughed with Fourth. The way Phuwin stood there, relaxed, a little too comfortable with her, irritated Pond more than it should have.
But he didn’t show it. He just took his position in the TikTok dance, not really paying attention to the way his gaze kept darting toward Phuwin from across the pool.
The girl next to him on the dance line grinned, pulling him back into the rhythm. “You’re great at this, Pond!”
“Yeah, I’m a pro,” he said with a half-smile, throwing in a playful spin to distract himself.
Still, he couldn’t help but glance back. Phuwin was standing near the pool with his girlfriend, casually talking to Fourth. She was laughing at something he said, leaning into him, her hand lingering on his arm in a way that made Pond’s stomach tighten—subtle, but enough.
Phuwin was so at ease. He’d always been like that—charming, natural. And tonight, with his girlfriend at his side, he seemed even more untouchable.
Pond forced his eyes back to the phone in front of him. “Let’s do it one more time,” the girl beside him suggested, and the music picked up again. He got into the motions, his body following the beat without much thought.
And then, just as the video ended, he saw Phuwin glance his way. No smile, no smirk. Just… a quick, lingering look. Like they both knew something, but neither would admit it. Phuwin’s girlfriend turned her attention to him, pulling at his sleeve with a bright laugh, and he looked away, turning his full focus back on her. The sight of it sent an unfamiliar pang through Pond—sharp and unsettling, but he ignored it.
The TikTok group dispersed as the next song came on. Pond stood at the edge of the group, half-listening to the girls talk about how they wanted to post it, but all his attention was on Phuwin. It was harder to avoid him now, especially since Phuwin had made his way to the poolside with his girlfriend, still talking and laughing with ease.
Pond’s gaze flickered back to the group of girls. He didn’t want to be the guy who stood there, staring—so he forced himself to laugh at a joke someone made, leaning into the crowd as if nothing was off. But his peripheral vision was full of Phuwin, who wasn’t aware of the effect he had.
For a moment, Pond could have sworn Phuwin’s eyes flicked in his direction again. But then he was talking to his girlfriend, his fingers tracing the edge of her arm, and Pond immediately turned away, trying to laugh at the joke another girl made.
Still, the scene burned in his head. He didn’t care , right? He shouldn’t.
“You’re too serious,” a girl commented, nudging him as she checked her phone. “Are you going to keep staring at them all night?”
Pond blinked, pulling himself from his thoughts. “What?”
“Phuwin and his girl,” she said with a teasing grin. “Come on, it’s a party. You should have fun, not just… stand there.”
Pond forced a smile. “Yeah. Just… distracted.”
The girl raised an eyebrow. “With what?”
The question hung there too long, and Pond didn’t know how to answer. He wasn’t sure what had his attention tonight, what had his head spinning.
But whatever it was, it wasn’t her.
Without really thinking, Pond threw back the rest of his drink and set the bottle aside. The pull of the water was too strong now. The night had started to feel like it was spiraling away from him—too much going on, too much in his head. He needed to do something, anything to break the tension that was building, even if he didn’t know why it was there in the first place.
With a quick glance at the pool, Pond stepped forward, peeling off his shirt without a second thought. The others were distracted, laughing, caught up in their own worlds. He moved quickly, almost recklessly, before anyone could really react. The next moment, he was leaping into the pool, the cool water swallowing him whole.
The splash was loud enough to turn a few heads, but he didn’t care. He swam a few strokes, letting the water cool his overheated skin, but when he surfaced, it wasn’t the chill he noticed—it was the way people looked at him.
A few partygoers glanced up from their drinks, momentarily taken aback by his boldness. But it was Phuwin who caught his attention—his eyes locking onto Pond’s wet form as he pushed himself up from the water, droplets running down his chest. For a split second, Phuwin’s gaze lingered, sharp and intense, before he turned quickly to say something to his girlfriend. But the moment had passed, and Pond swam further out, his heart beating just a bit too fast.
For a moment, no one said anything. The music continued, and the chatter picked back up. But there was something in the air now—something that hadn’t been there before. Maybe it was just in his head, but Pond couldn’t shake the feeling that things had shifted. Not in any obvious way, but just enough to make him wonder.
_______
Scene 5 – Too Much, Not Enough
The party had thinned out to something quieter, hazier. The lights had softened, the music a gentle throb in the background—no longer demanding attention. A few people lingered near the pool, laughing in slow-motion, voices slurring around each other. The sharpness of earlier had faded, leaving everything heavy and suspended.
Phuwin stood with a half-finished drink, back against the wooden beam that framed the patio. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there. Long enough to watch people disappear one by one. Long enough to notice that she was really gone.
His girlfriend had left twenty minutes ago.
A call from her roommate. Something sudden, dramatic. She whispered an apology into his ear, kissed the corner of his mouth, and slipped into the night with barely a backward glance. Phuwin told her he’d text. He hadn’t.
He hadn’t moved.
The scrape of footsteps pulled his attention just slightly—and there was Pond.
Soaked, barefoot, shirtless, and holding a nearly-empty cup. His cheeks were flushed, lips pink from liquor, hair still dripping like he hadn’t bothered to dry off since leaping into the pool earlier. He looked like chaos, like summer heat in human form.
He looked at Phuwin like he’d already decided something and wasn’t sure if he cared what came next.
“Still here,” Pond muttered, his voice low and hoarse. “Thought maybe you left with her.”
Phuwin didn’t answer right away. His eyes dragged down Pond’s frame—wet skin glinting under the pool lights, droplets sliding down his neck, tracing the line of his collarbone.
“She had to go,” he finally said.
“Mm.” Pond took a slow sip. “Shame.”
Phuwin raised an eyebrow. “For who?”
Pond didn’t answer. He stepped closer instead. Not all the way—just enough to pull the space between them tight.
“She looked happy,” Pond said, voice lazy, like he wasn’t thinking too hard. “You know… being the one on your arm. Bet she thinks she knows you.”
Phuwin’s jaw clenched. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Pond tilted his head, smiling like he wasn’t smiling. “Nothing.”
“You’re drunk.”
“You’re boring.”
“Original,” Phuwin said, flat.
Pond laughed softly. “I’m not trying to be original. I’m just saying what I feel.”
“Right. Because alcohol makes you honest.”
Pond’s grin slipped, just a little. “Doesn’t it?”
The silence between them pulsed. A breeze passed, the faint smell of chlorine and beer hanging in the air. Somewhere inside, someone turned up the music again for a moment, but it faded just as quickly. The world felt very far away.
Phuwin’s voice was quieter now. “Why are you even talking to me?”
Pond blinked at him. His lips parted like he had something clever to say—but it didn’t come.
“I don’t know,” he said. Honest. Too honest.
He leaned in slightly, not enough to touch, but enough that Phuwin could feel the heat radiating off his skin.
Phuwin swallowed.
“You’ve been circling me all night,” Pond whispered. “Like you’re trying not to get caught.”
“I haven’t,” Phuwin said, too quickly.
Pond laughed again, bitter. “Okay.”
He turned his head, as if he might leave, but he didn’t move. Instead, he looked up at the sky, like that would calm something inside him.
“You’re always like this,” Pond said, voice thinner now. “So in control. So perfect. You don’t feel anything, do you?”
Phuwin’s throat felt tight. “You don’t know me.”
“Maybe I don’t,” Pond said. “But I know when someone looks at me like they hate me. And I know when someone doesn’t blink when their girlfriend walks away.”
Phuwin didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
“I don’t hate you,” he said finally.
Pond turned his head slowly, meeting his eyes. “No?”
“I don’t know what I feel about you.”
And that— that —landed between them like an open flame.
Pond stepped in. Just slightly. Close enough for their arms to almost brush.
“Feels like maybe you do,” he said, voice low, wavering now.
Phuwin could smell the liquor on his breath, could see the way Pond’s mouth parted like he might say something else—but he didn’t.
They just stood there.
Too close. Not close enough.
Both breathing like they’d just been running. Neither of them moving.
Phuwin’s hand twitched around his drink, fingers tight.
Pond looked down at it. “You gonna hit me?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Phuwin exhaled through his nose. “I don’t know.”
“Me neither.”
It wasn’t a moment that built toward anything obvious. No kiss. No sudden crash. Just a feeling, something electric and ugly and unspoken, clinging to the space between their bodies like mist.
They didn’t understand it.
But they didn’t step back.
- to be continued -