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Namtan was a nervous wreck – and that’s putting it lightly.
Milk would’ve said that she was acting like it was the end of the world and she was preparing for the apocalypse. And that apocalypse’s name was Film Rachanun.
Not in a bad way – more like “Namtan is a complete and utter gay disaster who somehow got her dream girl’s number and has no idea what to do about it.”
Which is how she ended up on a Friday night at Milk’s apartment, being melodramatic and getting her ass handed to her in Mortal Kombat.
“HELP ME!” Namtan wailed, throwing down her PS5 controller after yet another KO.
Milk smirked. “It’s not my fault you have no skill at this game.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” Namtan huffed. “Where am I supposed to take Film on our date?”
She grabbed Milk’s arm and shook it wildly. “I can’t mess this up! She’s literally the cutest, most precious being to ever exist.”
“You’ve been talking to her for what – two, three weeks?”
Namtan threw her hands up in the air, “It feels like we’ve known each other for years! She just gets me you know!”
Milk nodded knowingly. “I get it. When Love and I first started talking, she kissed me before our first date.”
“You were both drunk at my birthday party,” Namtan deadpanned.
“Semantics.”
Right on cue, the apartment door swung open and Love walked in lugging a few bags full of groceries.
“Teerak!” Milk exclaimed, leaping off the couch and abandoning her controller. She rushed over to take the bags.
“Whipped,” Namtan muttered.
“Hello to you too, Namtan,” Love said, watching Milk put away the groceries with a fond smile. “What kind of mess have you come to bother Milk with this time?”
“It’s Film,” Namtan groaned.
“Not again.” Love sighed dramatically, “What did you do now? I already told Film that you weren’t crazy.”
When Namtan had first gotten Film’s number, she couldn’t stop gushing about her for days. Love, unfortunately, had been present for one of Namtan’s yap sessions to Milk and revealed that she and Film were friends.
That led to Namtan interrogating Love for hours until Milk had to physically kick her out at sunrise. Since then, Namtan’s visiting privileges to their apartment had been limited unless she talked about something other than her infatuation with Film.
Love and Film had met a year earlier in an art appreciation class. When they were paired up for a class project, they instantly bonded over their shared love of matcha lattes and cats. Film had transferred to their university from Chiang Mai and was quiet, thoughtful. Everything that Namtan was not.
Despite drifting through the same friend circles, they’d somehow kept missing each other.
The night of one of Ploy’s infamous parties? Film was finishing an art project.
A night out in the city with their friend Mint? Namtan had theater rehearsals that ran late.
And the one time they had almost met at Love’s birthday party? They had both been in the same room until Ciize had a little too much to drink and Namtan, ever the self-appointed hero, had to take her home.
But now, the universe decided it was time for them to meet.
And Namtan was spiraling.
“Love, you need to help me,” Namtan pleaded as Milk flopped back onto the couch beside her. “Your girlfriend has been absolutely no help.”
“Hey! I can be useful,” Milk protested.
“Not when it comes to these types of things babe,” Love chuckled, “It took you weeks to realize that I was flirting with you.”
“I just thought you were being nice and wanted to be friends!”
“In what world does ‘I want to kiss you silly and spend the rest of my life with you’ sound friendly?” Love asked, crossing her arms.
“I don’t know what the kids are saying these days. It could’ve been code for ‘let's be best friends.’”
Love rolled her eyes, “We’re four years apart Milk. Not a whole decade.”
“Hey, lovebirds!” Namtan interrupted. “Can you two stop flirting for one second and help me?”
Love turned to the kitchen, clearing opting out.
Milk grabbed Namtan by her shoulders so that they were looking at each other. “Whatever you do, don’t be yourself.”
Namtan blinked, “Huh?”
“You need to be better than yourself. Take her somewhere fancy. Maybe even hire a band to serenade her. Don’t crack any of your jokes. Flirt, but make it classy. You need to redeem yourself after the disaster at her job.”
Without warning, a half-empty water bottle came sailing through the air, hitting Milk in the head.
“Hey!” Milk yelped.
Namtan and Milk whipped their heads towards the kitchen where Love stood unimpressed.
“Don’t fill her head with that nonsense,” Love said exasperated. “This is why I told you to let me handle it.”
“You really are a useless lesbian,” Namtan said flatly to Milk.
Milk slumped, picking up her controller and continuing her game, sulking. “Fine, I’ll stay out of it.”
Love rounded the couch and kissed Milk on the cheek. Milk broke out into a smile and grabbed Love’s waist pulling her to sit on her lap.
“Just be yourself.” Love said, turning to Namtan. “Film already told me she thought your little meltdown was cute. So just keep being the disaster that you are and she’ll fall madly in love with you.”
Namtan let that sink in. But she didn’t have too much time to think more about it as the couple next to her were starting to let their affection show.
“Oh, look at the time,” Namtan said, looking at her non-existent watch on her wrist. “I have… script rehearsals to get to.”
She stood up from the couch and bolted for the door.
“It’s almost eleven at night,” Love deadpanned.
“The theater never sleeps!” Namtan exclaimed as she dramatically opened the door and slipped out.
Her face began heating up and she shivered just thinking about the scene she had left Milk and Love in.
Walking down the hallway to the elevator, she took deep breaths and began talking to herself.
“Ok. You’re fine. It’ll all work out. I’m calm. It’s just a first date, Namtan. You’re not asking her to marry you.”
She paused.
“Yet…” she mumbled.
As she waited for the elevator, her phone buzzed. It was a message from Film:
We still on for tomorrow night :)
Namtan’s heart did that stupid fluttery thing it always did when Film texted. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard typing:
YES! Absolutely!
She deleted it immediately remembering that she needed to stay calm. Be chill. Suave. Not a hopeless idiot already deep in love.
So instead, she settled for something more composed:
Yes, see you tomorrow!
Then, just to remind herself she was still a disaster capable of catastrophe, she tripped over her own feet into the elevator. Arms flailing, she nearly smacked into the wall before catching herself.
“Perfect. Smooth. Totally normal.” She muttered, brushing imaginary dust off herself and rehearsing every possible first-date scenario.
Out of all the scenarios Namtan had run through, this was not the one she had expected.
She sat in a very fancy restaurant – white table cloths, gleaming pieces of cutlery that she had no idea how to use, and a wine list that looked more like a novel. Despite Love’s insistence that she just be herself, Namtan felt that Film deserved something special.
So, after bribing Milk with promises of the new anime figurines she had been eyeing, Namtan had secured herself a reservation at one of Bangkok’s newest fine dining restaurants, courtesy of Milk’s cousin, the head chef.
Namtan was dressed in a light blue button-down,a dark brown corduroy vest, matching pants, and light brown heels.
Even with the air conditioning on full blast, her nerves made her sweat.
Beside her on the table sat a partially-wilted small succulent in a blue and yellow pot. A cartoonish picture of the planet Pluto was etched onto the pot. It was Lunar. Namtan hadn’t planned on bringing her, but she seemed like the perfect moral support.
Her leg bounced up and down as she waited for Film.
“Is this too much?” Namtan whispered to Lunar.
The plant remained stubbornly silent.
“Do you think I overdid it?”
Before she could answer her own question, a waiter appeared, followed by Film.
Film wore a black dress with a delicate lace pattern at the top that sat right above her knees. The dress accentuated her slim figure and her long hair was half-pinned back with a simple clip, letting soft waves cascade over her shoulders.
The smile she offered Namtan was gentle, natural, and devastatingly sexy.
“Hi,” Film said softly, eyes flicking shyly toward Namtan as she sat across from her.
“Hi! Uh… wow. You look amazing,” Namtan stammered, tugging nervously at her vest.
“Thanks,” Film said with a soft laugh. “You look… coordinated.”
Namtan forced a laugh. “Thanks. I tried.”
Film’s gaze wandered around the table before landing on the small succulent. “Is that yours?”
Namtan froze, cheeks heating up. “Um…yeah. I, uh… thought she might help me calm down. This is Lunar.”
A small flash of amusement crossed Film’s face before she chuckled. “Wait, so this is the famous Lunar? And all this time I thought you were talking about a cat.”
If Namtan’s face could get any redder, it would.
Film leaned closer, smiling gently at the little plant. “I love her. She’s really cute and I’m glad she’s here for moral support.”
She lifted her water glass and carefully poured a little over the soil.
“Yeah… moral support.” Namtan said, awe-struck at Film’s generous action. “I wasn’t planning on bringing her, but… I panicked.”
“Cute,” Film muttered before looking at the plant, “Well, it’s nice to finally meet you Lunar.” She smiled, dimples peeking out.
Namtan’s heart swelled until she looked at the rest of the table and started panicking over the silverware. Forks, knives, spoons, things she didn’t even know existed glared at her accusingly under the candlelight. Film, on the other hand, handled them effortlessly, making Namtan feel like she’d wandered into a foreign universe.
Abandoning the cutlery, Namtan picked up the menu. Most of the dishes made no sense, and the prices made her mentally wince.
“So… see anything you like?” she asked, trying to sound casual.
Film tilted her head, her smile never fading. “Honestly? I don’t know what most of these dishes even contain.”
Namtan’s eyes widened. “You don’t like fancy restaurants?”
“I’ve been to plenty because of my family,” Film said, shrugging, “but most of the time I’m in my apartment making ramen in my pajamas.”
Namtan’s heart did a little flip again. She doesn’t need perfection. That’s why she liked Film. She just wanted to be around Namtan.
Namtan stood, tucking Lunar under her arm. “Let’s get out of here.”
Film grinned, “You sure? I was really thinking about getting what I think is supposed to be chicken with potatoes.”
Namtan hesitated, thinking she had made a mistake, “Oh… I just thought–”
Film chuckled, placing her menu on the table and standing. She grabbed Namtan’s hand, calm and confident. “Come on. I know just the place.”
Namtan smiled. Usually she was the one leading, but following Film felt…easy.
An hour later, they walked through the neon-lit chaos of Bangkok’s market street. Skewers sizzled on grills, fried snacks perfumed the air, and vendors shouted their specials with infectious energy.
Namtan’s stomach did somersaults, caught between the chaos of Bangkok’s night life and the warmth of Film’s endearing smile and laughter.
Their first stop was a tiny stall tucked between two brightly lit shops. Namtan watched as Film expertly negotiated with the vendor with a grin. They were soon served pad kra pao. Namtan’s first bite sent her face into dramatic contortions from the spiciness.
“Hot!” she gasped, waving her hand dramatically, the other clutching Lunar like a lifeline.
Film laughed and nudged her gently. “Can’t handle spicy?”
Namtan’s blush deepened as she saw Film smirking.
She waved her hands again as she grabbed for water, repeating the same over-the-top antics, while Film laughed.
Next stop was a mango sticky rice stall where Namtan accidentally smeared some on her cheek. Before she could wipe it away, Film leaned in and pressed her lips lightly against it.
“There,” Film said, grinning.
Namtan’s brain short-circuited and her cheeks reddened. “I– thanks…”
Film smiled and walked ahead leaving Namtan’s heart thundering in her chest.
They laughed until their cheeks hurt, trying foods.
“See? I knew this would be more your style.” Film said as they surveyed the colorful stalls.
Namtan rubbed the back of her neck, “Yeah, sorry about that. I just thought you would like somewhere nice.”
“This is more fun. I like seeing this side of you. Not some version of perfection.”
“Even if this side of me is chaotic?” Namtan asked, nervous.
Film grinned, lacing her fingers with Namtan’s. “As long as it’s food-covered chaos, I’m game.”
They wandered from stall to stall, sampling grilled skewers, spicy som tam, and various desserts. At each stop, Film laughed at Namtan’s over-the-top reactions – her dramatic swoons over durian ice cream, the way she squealed at a particularly fiery sausage skewer. Throughout it all, Namtan couldn’t stop smiling.
“So… what did you enjoy the most?” Namtan asked as they walked down a lantern-lit alley, holding a bag of khanom krok.
Film tilted her head, smiling softly. “Watching you be you. I enjoy seeing you throw yourself into everything… even if it’s messy.”
“Messy?” she repeated, pretending to be offended but secretly thrilled.
“Completely,” Film said, brushing a strand of hair back from Namtan’s face. “It’s… cute.”
Namtan nearly tripped over her own feet. “C-cute?”
“Mm-hm,” Film confirmed, grinning. “The kind of cute that makes me want to steal all your snacks and maybe even Lunar.”
“I think Lunar would be happy to have you babysit her.” Namtan said, grinning.
Finally, as the night wound down, Film guided Namtan to a quiet corner of the street. The lanterns casted a warm glow around them.
Film leaned in to press a soft, fleeting kiss to Namtan’s cheek.
“Goodnight, Namtan,” Film whispered, her voice gentle and warm. “I can’t wait to see what you plan for our second date.”
Namtan’s heart skipped. “M-me too,” she stammered.
“Don’t forget to text me,” Film added with a wink, leaving Namtan with the faint scent of her floral perfume and the warm memory of the night.
Namtan felt like she was walking on air, still clutching her khanom krok and Lunar safely tucked under her arm, a quiet reminder that a little moral support always helped – even if it was just a tiny, wilted succulent.
As she wandered back toward her apartment, Namtan couldn’t stop smiling. She didn't need fancy menus, perfect planning, or flawless behavior to impress Film. All she really needed was herself and her chaotic charm.