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This is just a nightmare. This is not real. Phuwin is here with me. This is not the reality. He is with me.
“Pond! Pond! Wake up, Pond!” Pond gasped and suddenly sat up straight. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead, his chest rose and fell in a fast manner, and his eyes widened as if he was experiencing a horror. Phuwin's hands were a warm sensation on his arms, grounding him back from the different dimension.
“Fuck,“ Pond muttered low. His right hand flew to his left chest, curling the shirt underneath his palm. Phuwin put a hand on top of Pond's. Pond pushed it closer, letting him feel the vigorous beating of his heart.
They had a break from shooting, and Pond decided to sleep in one of the rooms, then woke up to Phuwin's face closely scanning his whole state.
“Did you dream again?“ Phuwin inquired. Phuwin's forehead creased, eyes studying his face. The state of how he found Pond, and the beating of Pond's heart underneath his palm, was enough testimony, but he wanted to hear the answer directly from him.
“A nightmare. It was a nightmare.” Pond corrected him. Pond waking up from a nap on the set, profusely sweating, ragged breathing, and eyes on the verge of tears as if he just got resurrected, had become so frequent that it makes Phuwin concerned.
“What is it? Are you feeling okay now?” Phuwin asked while different scenarios played on his mind. The intense urge to know what's going on in Pond's subconscious state that wakes him up feeling distressed instead of refreshed.
“Just the usual nightmare. It was nothing. I'm okay,” Pond says in a whisper, which Phuwin would miss if he wasn't giving his whole attention.
This happens every time. Phuwin thought. Him finding Pond, sleeping on a chair or in one of the rooms, breathing rapidly and deeply. Sweats forming on his forehead even though the room is well ventilated.
This happens every time. Pond thought. Him waking up from nightmares, a recurring one. Same person, same scenario. It starts in somewhat the same way, and ends as the same way as the previous ones.
Like a premonition.
A forecast.
A fortune.
A destiny.
A fate.
It doesn't happen every day, certainly not every night either. It mostly happens when their work becomes so stressful. The early call times, the late night sign-offs, and the hectic schedules in-between. Not to mention Pond's university responsibilities. So, he had always said that it was only due to the stress he had been feeling. The overwhelming feeling from the new success of their series, and the feeling of maintaining the momentum and doing better.
Pond dismissed it and acted like it was a fragment of his mind.
The nightmare keeps on happening, again and again, from time to time. Disrupting his peaceful slumber and settled heart. Pond thought it would always be the same thing until the most severe one happened.
It was one after their very packed schedule. The call time happened early in the morning, while they had wrapped up the night before was too late already. The morning was filled with shooting scenes, the afternoon was spent shooting with brand deals, and the night was for rehearsals for the upcoming concert. Working for Pond was fun and exciting, but nighttime was when he could feel every ounce of exasperation and tiredness creeping all over his body and mind, making it produce scenarios he didn't know why.
He and Phuwin were at a fan gathering, standing in front of their fans and interacting with them. There were a lot of people who came for a sole reason of showing their support for their pairing. He could see various banners of their name and the merchandise of their child, Permpoon. The fans' screaming intensifies whenever they make the subtlest physical contact, screaming their lungs out as if they had just won the jackpot in a lottery. Pond diverts his eyes back to Phuwin; he always does. He watches as Phuwin talks and bickers with their fans, teasing them about how they get easily swayed whenever they do anything. He just smiled, silently watching his partner and the fandom they had built together. Phuwin smiled softly, now directed to him, and Pond thinks he's the one who hit the lottery.
His eyes don't want to be apart of Phuwin, but he needs to breathe, so he purposely dragged it from him. He looked back at the crowd again. Moments had passed, and he noticed the gradual shift in everything. The open area started to become a closed arena. The fans were now settled in chairs, looking up at them, and he noticed that some of them were holding a picket with his face on it, and a writing below that he couldn't read. He looked at what others were holding and saw different faces and different writing, some of which were his face, but none of them were Phuwin's.
He doesn't want to look at his side where Phuwin was, afraid of what he would see, but he needs to. And so he looked at Phuwin's way, and instead of seeing him where he was just standing by, he saw several people who weren't Phuwin and didn't even resemble Phuwin at all.
His skin was crawling, his eyes were visibly shaking while looking at anyone, and his breathing had become labored. His stomach dropped as time passed by, and none of them looked remotely familiar to him.
He left the stage, it wasn't earlier, and went backstage to find where Phuwin is. He was about to ask one of the staff when he couldn't spot their manager, when a staff member talked to him in a language he didn't know well. His face crumpled trying to make sense of the conversation, he couldn't converse in a language that he wasn't fluent in. Feeling frustrated, he went to the side, ignoring the firm holds and words of the people with whom he was on the stage, some of whom he assumed were staff. Then, like he had hit an epiphany, he thought that this might be one of his nightmares, again. He waited for Phuwin, for anyone to wake him up from this dream. He was stuck and he needed someone to save him, because he couldn't seem to find a way to do it himself.
Moments had passed, and the people went closer and closer to him, invading his space and going closer to his ears. They were shouting something he couldn't understand, furious eyes and a somewhat loud voice, but he couldn't really quite hear them all, like they were underwater. The growing number of people crowding him makes him feel suffocated the longer he stays. He tried to walk away, but his feet were rooted as if they had grown roots beneath them. The lack of options made him choose to breathe deeply and chant the words that work somewhat effectively like a spell to break the illusion when he is having a nightmare.
This is just a nightmare. This is not real. Phuwin is here with me. This is not the reality. He is with me.
“Pond! Hey!... Finally! Fuck!” was what Pond heard from Phuwin after he woke up from the nightmare. His breaths were deeper, his sweats were more intense, and his eyes were wide. Phuwin's hands settled again on his heart, feeling his heart beat faster as if he was trying to outrun an entity. “What is it this time? Was it the same?” Phuwin asked after his breathing recovered.
“Yeah... Just more intense,” he says, trying to even out his breathing. “Sorry, I woke you up, too,” he added. After their schedule today, Phuwin invited him to stay at his condo to save time for their work tomorrow. He knows that they were in the same state of exhaustion, so he felt bad disrupting Phuwin's sleep because of his nightmare.
“It seems worse...” Phuwin trailed. He opened his mouth, about to speak again, but he fell into silence. After a while, he managed to say, “You were crying,” and his eyes were soft.
Pond touched his own face, and he felt the damp on it. He did cry. He thought it was just a sweat, but the redness of his eyes when he look on the mirror confirmed it.
“Was it still the recurring dream you always had?” Phuwin asked, voice low, carrying a soft and patient tone. His words were carefully chosen and spoken, questioning, not pushing, like they were in an interrogation. Phuwin took Pond's silence, understood it, and instead offered, “It's still past three, do you still want to go back to sleep or do something like jogging or go to the gym to freshen up?”
Pond was pulled from his thoughts. He shifted his eyes to Phuwin, looking at those eyes that were visibly sleepy. A warm feeling spreads to Pond's heart, knowing that Phuwin would want to do anything to make him feel better, even though he would sacrifice his sleep in return.
Pond shook his head, lips tightly sealed. The humming of the air conditioner was the only sound breaking the silence. A couple of minutes had passed, and Pond was still quiet, mindlessly staring at Phuwin's monitor that had been turned off hours ago, while Phuwin was looking at him patiently.
Pond lay down, eyes settling on the ceiling.
And in the dim room where a lamp was the only source of light, he confessed, “You always leave.” He put an arm over his face, not wanting to think about it anymore, but Phuwin leaving him replays in his mind.
Phuwin was taken aback. The words hung in the air just for a few seconds. Pond continued, before he could even think of a response, “That was always in my nightmares. You, leaving me.”
Phuwin was speechless. He wasn't expecting this to be what Pond woke up from, body tensed and bloodshot eyes.
Pond wondered, how things would have been, how things would have, how things would be. He wonders how things would be so different, so far from all of what they have now, of how things would be now if he had never met Phuwin. A train of thoughts that kept him awake at night.
After a couple of minutes of silence, Phuwin broke it by saying, “I'm here beside you. I won't leave.” His voice was so soft, lulling Pond to sleep.
What a lie.
Pond had been wondering for years now, how things would have been, how things would have, how things would be. He keeps on wondering how things would have been so different, so far from all of what they are now, of how things would be now if he still had Phuwin by his side. A train of thought that keeps him awake every night.
His nightmares of Phuwin leaving him had become a reality.
The humming of the air conditioner and a song playing on loop on his phone was the only sound breaking the silence of his room. A couple of minutes had passed, and Pond was still quiet, body sprawled on his bed. Hours had passed, and the nighttime had become a routine of this—him staring at his room's ceiling, mind replaying everything they had, everything they were, and everything they never were.
In the dark room where the city lights outside was the source of light, he says to no one but himself, “You left.” He put an arm over his face, not wanting to think about it anymore, but Phuwin, who left him a long time ago, is still haunting him.
The recurring nightmare he always had became a reality for years now.
Pond touched his own face, and he felt the damp on it. He did cry, for how many hours now, for how many nights, even during daytimes.
For how many years now.
The lump in his throat, the hollow in his stomach, and his heart, which he feels weighing heavier as days pass by, were the proof of it all. His thoughts were filled with the memories they had shared, spiraling his mind, but it always ends to the same time. It all comes back to the one night they lost everything they had and everything they never had.
It had been years. It was one of their company's parties. The night consisted of various flavored drinks from sweet to the most bitter ones, vibrant neon party lights lighting up the whole venue, music songs from different eras and different genres, and everyone from their company.
Everyone was vibing, jumping to the beat, clanking drinking glasses, and shouting the lyrics of the songs. Pond took care of Phuwin the whole night, monitored the alcohol intake, guarding him as if a danger would suddenly break out, guiding him when he couldn't even stand up due to drunkenness. It was fun, very fun, until they reached their assigned room.
They shared the same hangover soup they always had to lessen the aftermath of drinking all night. After that, they went to the same bathroom and shared the same essentials to wash up for the day. The party music was changed into something different in their room, the same songs they always listened to that they had put in their shared playlist, a jamming session when times like this. They shared the same space, the same room, the same everything if they could.
They were sprawled out in their shared bed, eyes settled on the ceiling. Phuwin, probably driven by drunkenness, out of nowhere said, “It would really be nice to have you after a long exhausting day, always, taking care of me and not leaving my side for a second.” Phuwin's lips stretched into a smile, his body moved to face him, eyes scanned his face. After a heartbeat, Phuwin added, “I would not really mind this happening all the time— you being with me. Do you think the same, too?” His voice was serious, gone that mischievous tone. All that was left was that serious voice and his intelligent eyes zeroing in on him.
After what seems like forever, Pond finally responded, “What's with the sudden seriousness, Phu? Of course, it's just natural. We're partners after all.” Pond chuckled, eyes remained on the ceiling. He was not really sure of what else to say, of what to say to begin with.
Phuwin, who felt a courage surging from within, makes his point across, wanted everything cleared, “You know what I mean, Pond. This, of whatever this is, to be cleared, to be clarified. You, knowing me more than everyone else, of you knowing me even more than I know myself. You, taking care of me when I failed to do so, that even my parents and friends wondered and asked me what the real deal was between us. Was everything still because we're partners on screen, or do you think of me too, just as often as I think of you?”
“Is kindness so rare in your life that you mistake it for desire?” Pond blurted out.
Phuwin was taken aback. It wasn't something he hoped to hear. “Yeah? It never crossed your mind?” He managed to say, his voice was small and unsteady.
“It did. Fleeting but recurring.” Pond answered him, eyes never meeting his even once.
At that time, Pond had thought that the night was too young. Everyone was still so alive, so full of life. It was too early for something so serious. The clock was still in motion, the city wasn't asleep yet, and they were at the peak of everything they had been aiming for.
It wasn't the first time they had that kind of talk, and it wasn't the first time he didn't know what to say. Phuwin waited for Pond to clarify it. He waited for it to change meaning. Phuwin hoped he had just misheard it. But the silence grew after Pond responded, and none of what he hoped became reality. And Phuwin, Phuwin who was always so keen, so observant, concluded in between the time that was spent in silence. Breaking the silence, Phuwin then said, “It's getting late. Good night, Pond. Sweet dreams.” Then he turned his back on Pond, who remained tight-lipped after it.
The room temperature was set to the same number they had always preferred, but the temperature felt lower than it actually was. The remnants of the party remained alive outside of their shared room, faded as their hearts beat louder as if they were inside their ears. The rest of the world continued to spin, while everything they had and everything they never had halted in that same shared room they opened so brightly the day before all of it happened.
It was probably because of the alcohol that Pond couldn't comprehend well what Phuwin had really meant with it. It was probably because of the alcohol that Pond didn't know why he blurted those words to him.
That night, Pond remained awake until it was his eyes that surrendered to sleep.
And that night changed everything, something, nothing they had.
And now, years had already passed, yet he still found himself reliving that night. Of everything that had changed after that night.
A year after it happened, his nightmares had become a reality. After a series they shot, Phuwin decided to take a step back in the acting industry. The decision wasn't made on a whim. It was something Phuwin had always said. Phuwin had been so open in saying that the years he had spent in the acting industry were already long, already more than half of his age. He also said that he missed the life beyond the camera, the privacy of it blurred in the limelight. Phuwin doesn't want Pond's career to pause because of him, and so they ended their partnership. It was a mutual choice, Pond agreed, he doesn't had a choice. He thought of what he thought Phuwin needed, of what he thought was best for him.
Months passed after Phuwin left the acting industry, he learned that Phuwin went abroad to study and pursue his music career.
Phuwin released songs, establishing and making his name known. Pond waited for them, even marked the days of scheduled release on his calendar. He kept coming back to them, listening after an exhausting day and even before his exhausting days starts.
And now, years had already passed, he still kept a tab of Phuwin's released songs. He used to be the one who heard them first, but now he could only wait for them to get released on music platforms. It was where he could only hear him again, where he could feel closer to him again. Just like now, where he shamelessly assumes that Phuwin was talking to him through his newly released song. The song that had been replaying for hours now had come to an end again. The lines in the last verse, which he could never stop rewinding, hit him harder than he ever admitted.
Dreams were meant to be reached
Chase it before it vanishes
Or in your mind, it freely lives
Hunting you in your sleep
Good night, dream of me
Phuwin does hunt him, not just in dreams, but even when his wild awake.
He sees Phuwin everywhere. On the streets, on his social media feed, in every corner of their workplace, in his dreams.
But he wasn't actually there.
Even a random passerby on the street will somehow resemble Phuwin. His heart ache everytime it happens, and it aches even more knowing that they weren't him. None of them could be him.
None of them could be Phuwin.
Phuwin. His name rolled out so easily in his tongue, even though he hasn't spoken to him for how many years now, because he was so used to speaking his name even before they went their separate ways, especially after it. He was used to including him in his prayers. For him to be happy, and for him to sleep easily when he himself couldn't.
How can you be haunted by someone who's very much alive?
Pond thought all of this was one of those fleeting but recurring fragment of his mind.
It wasn't. It never was.
This is just a nightmare. This is not real. Phuwin is here with me. This is not the reality. He is with me.
It used to work even just from one time saying it, but he chanted it for what seemed like a thousand times, but nothing had changed.
He was still stuck in a nightmare that had become a reality.
That manages to catch him, something he couldn't outrun.
He was stuck and he needed someone to save him, because he couldn't seem to do it himself.
He needs someone, someone who left him, someone who said that he won't.
What a lie.
Was Phuwin the one who lied, or was it he who did?
Is kindness so rare in your life that you mistake it for desire?
What a lie.
It was never just out of kindness, and a day wasn't spent without him desiring him back.
Coward, dumb, asshole move.
Fleeting but recurring?
What a lie.
None of this is fleeting, and certainly, it's not just recurring either.
It was more of a constant, endless moment of thinking and hoping for him.
Pond wondered, how things would have been, how things would have, how things would be. He wonders how things would be so different, so far from all of what they have now, of how things would be now if he had not lied to Phuwin. A train of thoughts that kept him awake at night.
But this is not a nightmare. This is real. Phuwin is not there with him. This is the reality. He is not there with him anymore.
Pond had a bitter smile on his face before his eyes surrendered to sleep.
He hope he will dream of Phuwin tonight.