13. RAGE ROOM

The warm steam dispersed throughout the bathroom, part of it sticking to the fogged mirror. The figure behind the shower curtain remained still, letting the stream of water fall over his body. Deep in his heart, there was a small part that made Ko feel guilty for his previous actions.

He was furious to the point of blindness. Especially upon discovering that his close friend and his new subordinate had been building a relationship in secret, despite him having forbidden it and a signed document regarding it. But in the end, the more he said it, the more it seemed to incite him. Ko felt like a fool who had been deceived. Just thinking that both of them were laughing behind his back made him so enraged that he did not want to forgive them.

Why did he feel so unsatisfied? It was the question that arose in his mind as the warm water ran over his head.

If it were another subordinate in the company, would he have gotten so furious? Ko had never interfered in Pheem’s relationships with others, but when it came to Jira, he could not accept it.

His attractive face shook his scattered thoughts. Thinking about it now would not provide answers, so he hurried to finish his shower. After taking care of his personal matters, he came out with a towel around his waist. Seeing that Jira was still in the same place, with red and swollen eyes, the tall man approached and asked:

“Are you not going to draw after all?”

The smaller man sniffled and immediately replied:

“I’m not in the mood to draw anything.”

Ko went to the bar to pour himself a glass of plum liquor. “Do you want to drink a little liquor to help you?”
“No, can I leave now?”

Jira refused with a firm voice and a look of great displeasure. Feeling a little pity, Ko placed the glass on the bar and took an iris from the vase on the table in front of the sofa, extending it to Jira.

“I’ll take you,” he said with a serious expression, but Jira did not accept and quickly pulled his hand away.

“No need, I can go back alone.”

“As you wish. If I need you to work again, I’ll send you a message.”

Ko watched as Jira hastily collected the papers he had just drawn. Just as he was about to leave the room, Ko spoke again, igniting Jira’s anger once more.

“Come back and finish the drawing, and bring it to me next week.”

There was no response from Jira, only an indifferent expression and quick steps leaving the room. As soon as the door closed, Ko took his phone and called the butler.

“Jira is coming down. Please call a taxi and wait for him.”

Ko hung up and collapsed onto the sofa surrounded by flowers. He scanned the room with his eyes until they landed on the easel with Jira’s second drawing. His sharp eyes stared at it intently.

In the end, he decided to dismantle it from the easel and hide it in the secret room behind the bedroom.

…

“Mr. Jira, Khun Ko asked me to call a taxi for you. It will arrive soon, please wait a moment.” “No need, thank you.”
“Please wait. If you don’t take the taxi, I could get into trouble.”

Jira arrived at the lobby, where the butler was already waiting. After being asked to wait, the taxi arrived in just a few minutes. He briefly said goodbye to the butler before getting into the vehicle.

The slender body sat in silence for a moment, with a depressed and empty mood. In his heart, he felt completely hopeless.

“Where should I take you?” “I’ll tell you, just drive for now.”
The music in the taxi played in the background, ironically fitting his mood. As the taxi left the hotel, Jira worried about Pheem and wanted to call him to clear things up.

He had to muster a lot of courage to take his phone and dial. However, he got no answer. Still, Jira did not give up and called a second and third time consecutively.

… Pheem’s state at that moment could be described with one word: shattered like a dog.

The ringtone of his phone rang yet again. He only looked at the screen where Jira’s name appeared before turning and drinking from a can of beer while sitting cross-legged on the sofa.

He was drunk, with red and swollen eyes, not very different from Marwin, who was curled up next to him trying to console him. On the table were several cans of beer scattered: some

empty, others unopened. But what seemed to attract both of their attention was not the alcohol, but the person who was persistently calling.

“Are you not going to answer? He’s called several times,” said Marwin, looking at his friend with pity.

“No,” Pheem refused, and took another big sip of beer. “Every time you get drunk, I’m the one who suffers.”
“When I’m drunker, I’ll go to my room alone. Shut up already.”

The phone rang again, and Marwin tried to persuade him once more.

“I think you should answer. Maybe he has something important to explain to you.”

There was a moment of hesitation, but in the end, Pheem took the phone and answered Jira’s call.

“What’s up?” asked Pheem in a harsh voice. If he were going to beg, it would not work.

If Jira had had the courage to argue a little or go out with him decisively, things would not have reached this point. But Pheem had underestimated him. Ko might have more benefits in terms of work and money, but that was not the important thing. What Pheem feared deep down were Jira’s feelings toward his friend.

What if the main reason their relationship was not moving forward was Ko? Pheem did not dare imagine it, but feared it was true.

[Have you arrived at your room yet?]

“Yes, and I’m drunk. Get to the point, I’m with a friend.”

Marwin, who was observing closely, grimaced at being used as an excuse. [About today, I’m really sorry.]
“What thing? That you didn’t resign with me, or that you stayed with him?” [It’s not what you think. You saw that it was all Ko’s plan.]
“Including the tight hug?” Pheem replied quickly, leaving Jira speechless. At that moment, he decided to press further.

“Did he force you? Answer me.”

“If you don’t answer, I’ll assume he didn’t force you. And if you hadn’t opened the door at that moment, how far would it have gone?”

An awkward silence enveloped the conversation for a moment…

[Sorry for calling. I just wanted to know if you’re okay.] “I’m not okay.”
[What can I do to make you better? I’m willing to help.]

“Then answer honestly. Tell me the truth: what do you feel for Ko? Do you like him?” [I don’t like him.]
“So you’ve already resigned?” [No.]
“Then that’s it.”

Pheem hung up immediately. Continuing to talk would only lead to more fights. He did not want to enlarge the drama, because perhaps he needed time to reflect and see things more broadly.

“Damn it! Nothing goes the way I want,” he cursed as he raked his hair in frustration. Marwin, who had been watching the drama with interest, now had to console him.

“Relax, buddy.”

“I don’t know since when, but I want him to quit with me.”

“Alright, but why make someone quit a stable job? It’s like you’re suffering from Stockholm Syndrome*, though maybe you don’t even have it.”

(*) Stockholm Syndrome: a psychological state in which a victim begins to feel attachment or sympathy for their abuser, even if they use violence or threats.

The relationship between Pheem and Ko had started well, under the word friendship. But when they began collaborating in business, many things changed. Pheem knew perfectly well that Ko was not a completely clean person. He was not a great friend, and as a boss, he was even worse. Not to mention what he did when someone became his enemy: he eliminated them without mercy.

Ko’s cruel actions became increasingly obvious. The truth was that, faced with such miserable treatment, many would have quit or stayed as far away as possible. But Pheem was someone who clung on. He preferred to endure, hoping things would improve.

“I think I did have it. That’s why I didn’t quit.” “Then why did you suddenly resign?”
“I don’t know. At that moment I got annoyed. By the time I realized, I had already filed my exit. The shares were about to be sold too.”

“In reality, mild workplace Stockholm Syndrome is quite common. Employees tend to tie their self-esteem to their boss. Even if the boss is cruel, the employee understands, gets stressed with him, and the problems become shared. Thinking about it now, you had all the symptoms.”

“Yes, now that I see it from the outside, it’s true.”

“And how did you manage to break down that wall? Do you remember?”

“I think at that moment I just wanted to be with Jira. I didn’t want Ko interfering in my life anymore.”

“That clears everything up!” Marwin exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “What clears up, idiot?”
“It means your self-esteem is now tied to Jira. That’s why you stopped worrying about Ko. Love was so strong it broke that psychological pattern.”

Pheem reflected as Marwin took several sips of beer. “But the bad news is… are you ready to accept it?” “Accept what?”
“That even though you have bonded with him… if he doesn’t bond with you, you’re going to suffer.”

The more Pheem listened, the more anxious he became. Marwin patted his face to cheer him up.

“Your ‘charming guy’ title is gone. Failing at love also adds flavor to life, don’t you think?”

…

“Damn it!”

“What wind blew you here?”

Exhausted and dragging his body, Jira arrived at Ing’s studio. The young woman, busy cooking instant noodles on the kitchen counter, looked up and greeted her friend cheerfully, though she had already read the complaints-filled messages he had sent.

“I’m stressed.”

“Do you want some instant noodles? I’ll make another plate.” “No, thanks.”
“What’s wrong with you?”

Jira moved to the dining table, near folders of documents and photos of people who had auditioned for roles. Ing poured hot water into a bowl, opened the fridge, took a can of soda, and brought it to the table for Jira. Meanwhile, she spoke while eating noodles.

“Hey, I have something I want to ask you.”

“Tell me. I read the chat you sent me. You seem like the type who changes lanes easily.”

“I’m confused about myself. And Pheem seems very angry. Now he’s not answering calls. I’m desperate.”

“If he doesn’t answer, go find him.”

“Even if I go to his condo, if he doesn’t come down, I can only wait in the lobby. How long would I have to wait?”

“Give me a moment.”

Ing thought for a moment. “Is his friend called Marwin?”
“Can I call his friend, the one…” “How do you know his friend?”
“Last time I gave my card to Pheem. Soon after, his friend contacted me saying he wanted a career change. That’s how I got his contact.”

After explaining, Ing quickly called the other party. Using persuasion and her position as an excuse, Marwin finally revealed where they were going. Ing saw it was a good opportunity before they left, so she ran to stop a moto-taxi, pushing Jira to arrive on time.

Whenever they were stressed and needed to vent, the Rage Room was the first place Pheem remembered. As he had once told Jira at the Burnout Bar. But it was incredible that today he had to vent over something related to Jira.

…

The two friends, Pheem and Marwin, arrived at the Rage Room, a place decorated in contrasting black-and-white tones. They went directly to the counter, where posters advertised various “Rage Release” packages-from single packages, for two people, to groups. Prices varied depending on the number of people and the objects that could be destroyed.

“I thought I wouldn’t see you again. You disappeared for a while,” greeted the male employee behind the counter. It wasn’t Pheem’s first time; he had come countless times and knew several employees.

“I found another way to manage my emotions, Phi.”

The image of the Burnout Bar briefly flashed in his mind. “But I’m back. What package do you want, Marwin?”
At the end of the sentence, he turned to his friend, who was smiling awkwardly nearby. “The 500 one, as always? Thirty minutes, destroy twenty things, we split it halfway.” “But I feel like something more intense.”
“Or the 1,000 one: fifty things, but can you handle it?” “I’ve been holding back all month.”
Pheem decided, pointing at the poster with the bolded price. “Phi, the 1,000 package, please.”
“Go ahead. Have fun exercising.”

The senior employee signaled the rest of the team to prepare the room. While waiting, Pheem and Marwin walked down the hallway with white walls to an open area, separated by a room to change into gray protective suits. They took the suits and put them on skillfully.

They did not expect that, after changing, Pheem’s eyes would meet someone unexpected-the person he least wanted to see at that moment.

“I didn’t say anything,” Marwin defended himself, raising his hands and looking nervous.

Knowing he wasn’t supposed to be there, he quickly stepped back and shouted at the employee at the counter: “Phi! Switch to the individual package.”

Luckily, Jira did not recognize Marwin, so he barely escaped.

Left alone with Jira, Pheem, tired of avoiding him, decided to get straight to the point. “If you want to say something, say it quickly.”
“What do I have to do to make you speak well of me?” “Quit.”
Jira let out a sarcastic laugh and responded with a reason. “Easy to say.”
“It’s that simple. If working with someone so bad exhausts you, why put up with it?”

“Then let me ask you: if I quit, can you guarantee I’ll survive? You know I’ve always had money problems. I have no backup plan.”

“You’ll have to work hard. I want you to understand this. I’ve been struggling all this time. Even if I quit, I can survive for several years. I don’t know what it’s like to be unemployed, but for me, I really can’t go back to that.”

He explained at length, hoping someone would understand.

At first, before this job, Jira faced situations that demotivated him. Problems surrounded him, and although he chose to do what he loved most, he didn’t sell himself. That’s why he couldn’t quit impulsively, because in the end, the one who had to face the consequences was himself.

But Pheem was no longer in the mood to understand. He only wanted to know one thing. “…You love him, don’t you?”
“The reason I don’t quit is money. Nothing else. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here explaining it to you.”

Pheem softened a little, but not completely. Seeing him remain silent, Jira asked, “You’re not angry with me anymore?”
“I don’t know. There are too many feelings inside me.”

The tall man looked at the person in front of him, sighed, and decided to enter the Rage Room without looking back for even a second.

Inside the room, according to the package they had chosen, equipment of all sizes was lined up in different spots. You could destroy whatever you wanted in any corner: televisions, computers, old laptops, keyboards, and miscellaneous office equipment.

Pheem put on the mask and twirled the baseball bat with skill. It wasn’t the one the room provided, but his own personal bat, which he had brought from his condo for this.

Jira entered after changing into his protective gear. His arrival caused Pheem, already on the verge of exploding, to clench his fist and smash the screen of a computer with force.

The impact echoed through the room. But it was nothing compared to the hoarse scream that released all his frustration. He turned toward the slender figure hiding in a corner.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Pheem struck again and again. Objects shattered: the screen broke into pieces, the keyboard split in two.

“Do you think that just because I gave in once, I’ll always give in?” “Do you hate me that much?” Jira asked, stunned.
“Yes. You’re an idiot.”

The tall man kept hitting with the bat until he was sweating heavily. He began to tire, panting, and turned toward the source of it all.

“Since you made it this far, why don’t you hit me?”

“If I could hit you, I would have done it a long time ago,” Jira replied, and Pheem continued smashing the objects in front of him.

He had always thought that, no matter what happened, he wouldn’t use violence to solve problems. Not even with Ko, who was cruel to everyone, had he ever raised a hand. That’s why he paid to destroy objects instead.

“Fine. You can’t do it. Then insult me. If it makes you feel better.”

Jira offered, and Pheem seemed to accept. He lowered the bat and looked directly at him with trembling eyes.

“You make me look like a fool.”

“I’ve never had to beg this much. I was the best at math since elementary school, and I competed in Tech Week in Lisbon five years in a row.”

Pheem’s voice began fading, but the anger was still palpable. His emotions were a mixture of love and pain at the same time.

“You’re fucking cold. If you didn’t want me, why did you come back to me? Do you enjoy playing with other people’s feelings? Damn it! I thought you would understand me.”

By the end, his voice trembled. He went back to destroying objects as tears began to flow, even though he tried to hold them back.

“Why does it have to be Ko? We were both victims. Instead of escaping together, you stay with him. My flaws aren’t as bad as his. Why am I never the one you choose?”

 

“I don’t want to love you anymore-it hurts!”

Pheem turned his body to avoid Jira’s gaze. He removed his mask and wiped his tears with his sleeve, leaving a red streak on his face. A little later, he put the mask back on.

Though his actions were subtle, Jira noticed. He watched as Pheem threw the baseball bat to the floor and walked over to a cold table holding computer equipment. He punched a hard object with force, making the sound echo throughout the room as fragments scattered everywhere.

Jira flinched, his eyes red, frozen in place, unable to move.

Pheem, still holding back his emotions, turned to face the smaller man. His voice softened, trying to regain composure.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?”

“Actually, it’s like when you draw. You take your emotions and put them on a canvas. I, on the other hand, am a bit stupid and release mine by breaking things.”

He approached Jira without any threatening posture. On the contrary, Pheem looked more vulnerable than he had ever shown.

“Could you draw me like you draw Ko?” “You’re fine the way you are.”
That single answer said it all. Pheem didn’t want to be Ko. “I’ve vented enough. You can go.”
Jira looked at the tall man with a mix of emotions. Being dismissed, he had no reason to stay-except to say one last thing.

“I don’t know if you’ll ever stop being angry with me. You don’t have to, but I hope you feel better.”

Each went their separate ways. Jira left first, and shortly after, Marwin entered the room. Seeing Pheem standing motionless, his expression unreadable, he immediately knew the story wasn’t over.

Many things remained confusing, tangled, and it wasn’t certain whether they would become even more complicated. Because one of the factors in their relationship was… Ko.