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English
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Published:
2025-08-05
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1,669
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1/1
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21
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168

Don't Call Me Friend

Summary:

It’s not like Wan’s never been in love before. It’s just never been quite like this. Wan seems happy in a wholly new and different way, even despite everything else going on. And so it’s killing both Noey and Mahnmook inside.

Or, Mahnmook goes to visit Noey.

Spoilers up to ep6.

Notes:

I'm not saying I ship Jing/Ploy, but I'm not not saying it.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

 

Noey tells herself not to cry, but it’s meaningless. She’s laying on the couch in the dark, wearing the same clothes as when she got home, and her face is wet. The sun is long gone by now, and her stomach growls, but still she doesn’t move.

She tells herself to pull it together, to laugh or smile, pretend nothing happened. Because nothing should be different. She’s been pretending for years. Why should anything have to change? Sure, she’s in love with Wan. But that’s not new. Not being able to tell her isn’t new either. She’s been in love with Wan for as long as she can remember. And she knows that can’t be strictly true, because she couldn’t possibly have known what love like this meant back when they were kids, but by now the love has been there so long it permeates all her past thoughts about Wan.

See, Wan had asked when Noey was going to find someone, and Noey didn’t have the guts to say she stopped looking years ago. But then Wan hugged her, Wan said she would never leave her, that she would stick with Noey forever, and Noey had fought so hard not to cry. Because the truth was, that this had always been her destination. A place like that. A simple table in front of a simple store with Wan next to her and arms around her. Noey had never wanted anything else.

And maybe Noey didn’t have to meet a client today. Maybe Noey just had to get out of there.

It’s stupid really. So trite. Like something from those overdone television dramas.

So when there’s a knock at her door that night, Noey half expects it to be Wan. It would be fitting. And maybe part of her hopes it really is Wan, even if nothing good can come from that.

If it were Wan, then Noey could cry for real, stop pretending, and let herself feel. Or not. She's never done that before. Why should that be any different now? Noey's always been the calm one in their group. The thinking one. The planner. But there have never been any plans about Wan. Only dreams that were just out of reach.

High school: I'll tell her after we graduate, when we don't have to see each other every day.
University: I'll tell her if she breaks up with Mahnmook, it's not fair to either of them otherwise.
After the breakup: I’ll give it three months at least, she’s still hurting.
Three months later: I'll tell her next month, she just got a new job, and I don't want to mess that up.
Another month later: She bailed on dinner with me and I can’t say this over the phone, next time.
When they next have lunch together: She’s laughing and having fun, I don’t want to ruin this. I just want her to be happy.

There was always something. Something in the way, something to get over, something to wait for. And then Wan’s dad died, and once again the timing wasn't right. The timing was never right. It was always next year, next month, next week, just one more dinner, one more day, one more cup of Mouse Mart coffee, one more stolen glance, one more silent laugh, one more raised eyebrow, one more inside joke, one more selfie together, one more memory of days gone by when best friends meant friends forever.

So Noey picks her head off the couch and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. She stomps her way over to the door without looking at her phone or the twenty-six unread messages there. She just grunts and pulls the door open.

It’s Mahnmook though, dressed in casual clothes, a case of beer in hand. Mahnmook raises the box to show her, shakes it to let the bottles clink together. “Can I come in?”

For an instant, Noey considers slamming the door and yelling, but that wouldn’t be fair. Mahnmook didn't do anything wrong. But then again, Wan didn't either. This is all Noey’s own fault. So she huffs instead, steps back and opens the door the rest of the way.

Mahnmook puts her bags down on the table while Noey flips on the lights. Stern eyes survey the apartment before landing on Noey and her rumpled clothes. But Mahnmook’s face softens and she offers a small smile. When she speaks it is gentle. “Have you eaten? I brought some snacks too.”

“What are you doing here?” And Noey means to sound indignant, exasperated, but it just comes out defeated.

Mahnmook pulls two bottles out, opens them both and hands one to Noey. “I know Maewnam. I know Wan. And I know you.”

“You wanted me to drink with you?”

“I wanted to make sure you’re ok.” And Mahnmook looks at her then like she can see right through Noey. Maybe she always has. Mahnmook always was the smart one.

“I’m fine.” Noey takes the bottle offered, clinks it against its twin, and takes a long swig of beer.

Mahnmook drinks too. “You can't keep doing this.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

Mahnmook nods. “And you can't keep doing that.”

Noey laughs. “Of course I can, I’ve been doing it all my life.” She tips her bottle up, thinking to down it in one go, but Mahnmook waves at her to stop.

“Hey, slow down. At least eat something first.”

So Noey relents, she sits next to Mahnmook as plates are laid out, food is served for her, and they take a few bites in silence. Somehow, the lull isn't awkward, despite the fact that it's been years since they've done this, especially just the two of them.

Noey eats some more, finishes her beer, and opens another for herself and one more for Mahnmook too. She gets up to wash her face at one point, and change into comfortable clothes for home, puts on the television to some silly late night show that neither of them pay any attention to.

When the credits roll though, Noey shuts off the TV and says “thank you” without turning her head, speaking instead to Mahnmook’s reflection in the dark screen. There's a hum of assent, an intake of breath, and Noey decides to be brave before Mahnmook can. Noey looks over, meets her eyes for real, and she says, “you never told me that you knew.”

Mahnmook clears her throat. “I didn’t know how to say it. I didn't want to make things weird. And what would it have changed anyway?”

“Was I that obvious?”

Mahnmook points around the apartment, to all the pictures of Wan and Noey together, but just the single one with her parents, and also only one with all three of the friends together, from their university days. “Do you remember that I spoke to you the day before I asked Wan out? And you told me to go for it, that it would make Wan so happy?”

Noey's eyes fall, staring at a spot on the floor. “I was really stupid, wasn't I?”

“No. You were being the best friend you knew how to. You are so much stronger than me. And I understand, Noey. So whatever you need, I'm here.”

“I'm sorry I stopped being your friend.”

“I don’t feel like you ever stopped. You wanted Wan to be happy. I think you still want that. We both do.” And now it’s Mahnmook’s turn to empty her drink.

“Is Wan happy?” Noey asks, even if she thinks she knows the answer already. She just doesn’t like it.

“You saw her today, what do you think?”

Noey nods.

Mahnmook does as well. “Maewnam seems very nice.”

But why can’t Wan be happy with me? Noey thinks it, but she doesn’t say it. Because when she looks up, Mahnmook is the one blinking away tears, reaching for the last beer. They say it’s better to have loved and lost rather than to have never loved at all, but Noey doesn’t know anything about that. So this time it’s Noey who stops Mahnmook, puts a hand on her wrist. “Do you work tomorrow morning?”

Another nod.

“Let me put that away for next time. I’ll call you a taxi so you can get home and sleep.”

Mahnmook sniffles, locks eyes with Noey even through the tears threatening to spill, and she whispers, “you really are the strongest one of us.”

But Mahnmook stands then, takes Noey’s hand and pulls her up as well. And maybe it’s because they’re adults now rather than teenagers, but there’s no more crying. Noey puts on the neutral face she has for clients, and she imagines Mahnmook’s must be her professor one. They’re professionals after all, and it’s late. She puts that last beer and the leftovers into the fridge while Mahnmook collects the trash. They tidy up and clear the dishes before Mahnmook goes to look for her shoes.

“Thank you for coming.” Noey says, and even if it’s a simple polite phrase anyone would say seeing off a guest, she really means it.

And Mahnmook seems to know. Because she smiles in a way Noey hasn’t seen in years, and instead of repeating something equally innocuous, Mahnmook wraps her in a hug and speaks right into her ear. “You’re the best friend anyone could ever ask for.”

 

 

When the apartment is empty and Noey sits alone in bed, she takes out her phone and scrolls down in her text messages — past the recent ones with her family or with Wan, the various clients and coworkers, down to the thread they used to have with three best friends in it. That one hasn’t seen any activity in a very long time. Just below it though, are the messages between Noey and Mahnmook, without Wan, and that one has been silent even longer.

But Noey opens it now, after all these years, and the message she types is ordinary.

Let me know when you're home.

 

 

Notes:

I've heard a person's fanfic can reveal a lot about them. Anyway, I'm sure my obsession with characters who just want to be wanted doesn't say anything about me.