Rule No. 1: Don’t be too emotional : Chapter 30

Oops. I did it again. I played with your heart, got lost in the game

Oh baby, baby Oops, you think I’m in love

That I’m sent from above I’m not that innocent

···

“If you don’t show up as scheduled… prepare to die.” Jane Patrick left it at that, his voice soft and cool in a way that was utterly spine-chilling, before hanging up.

Even though I’ve heard him say things like this often, I still can’t help but feel a tremor of fear every time. This is despite the fact that I know he’s never actually killed anyone. I think. I rubbed my damp hair with a towel, having just finished washing it, before plugging in the hairdryer. I caught P’Jane’s eyes in the mirror.

“I think I’ve come up with a nickname for you, P’.” He smiled .

“And what would that be?”

“Terrifyingly Thrilling, Horrifically Handsome.” (Note: A play on the Thai ‘Siao Sayong, Lor Sayaeng’) He burst out laughing, but I didn’t find it that funny today. It was probably because of that scary sentence I just heardhim say. But that was his perfect description-those four words captured the essence of Jane Patrick Palakorn entirely. I turned on the dryer. P’Jane got up from his chair and walked closer, looking at me through the glass, raising his voice to be heard over the noise.

“You know I’m just threatening them, right? I’ve never really killed anyone.”

“Yeah, I know… actually, no, I don’t. I don’t know if you’re being serious or not. But I hope it’s true-that you’ve never killed anyone. And if you have, please don’t let me know or catch on. I couldn’t handle it. I’m scared.” He just stood there smiling behind me. Then, his large hand gave my upper thigh a light squeeze, making me jump.

“Short shorts today, huh?”

“It’s the same football shorts I always wear! Stop teasing me!” P’Jane didn’t say anything else; he just gave a low chuckle and walked away. That crazy guy… I feel like he’s become much more relaxed and informal with me since he told me all his secrets. He’s been in a good mood all week, like nothing could ruin it. The tall man walked over to play the grand piano, something he always does when his mood is at its peak. I made a face at his reflection in the mirror. Once my hair was dry, I grabbed my phone to edit his contact name. There-from “P’Jane” to a brand new nickname: Mr. Terrifyingly Thrilling, Horrifically Handsome. From now on, when he calls, this name will pop up on my screen. Just thinking about it was hilarious.

“What are you laughing at, Jane?”

“Nothing! Just scrolling through TikTok. It’s funny.”

“Come sit here.”

“Coming ~” The notes of Clair de lune floated beautifully through the room. Sitting beside him, I listened intently. When we begin to lose ourselves in the silence between the notes-that is when we truly immerse ourselves in art. I toyed with my key-shaped pendant while listening, breathing in the cool, sexy scent of the man beside me. The amateur pianist looked at me, hitting every note with perfect precision, making me smile in admiration. The piano and Jane Patrick-they were a match of flawless beauty. As the music peaked, the rhythm became passionate and intense, before fading into something soft and sweet for the finale. As the last note lingered, I clapped sincerely.

“That was amazing.”

” You said that last time.”

“Well, it really is good every time. I wouldn’t praise yo if it weren’t actually good.” He rested his chin on the piano, looking at me before asking: “If you were an animal, what would you compare yourself to?”

“A puppy. Everyone says I’m like a puppy. Even you’ve said so.” I nudged him with my elbow.

“What about you, P’Jane?”

“A horse.”

“Why?”

“My father once told me I’m like a blinkered racehorse. I only sprint toward the finish line.” I made a face.

“Isn’t that a bit harsh for a father to say to his son?”

“Not really. I actually agree with him. But I’d like to be a smart horse, at least.”

“You’re already smart.”

“Go on, do the puppy pose for me.”

“Heh-heh-heh-heh!” I put both hands under my chin and stuck my tongue out at him. P’Jane reached over and ruffled my hair until it was a mess.

“Hey! Stop it! I just washed it,” I wrinkled my nose.

“My hands are clean, don’t worry.” Since he said that, I didn’t resist. I let him stroke my head for as long as he pleased. But then, P’Jane spoke again.

“The Social Dance exam is coming up soon.”

“Oh right! I completely forgot. Rock and Talung this time.” P’Jane and I were enrolled in Social Dance 2, and of course, we were partners. It gets harder every time. By the time we reach the Rumba, I think I’ll be the one going crazy.

“We’ll find time to practice.”

“With you here, I’m not worried. You already know all the moves.” He just smiled.

“The weather is nice today.”

“Yeah.”

“Is there anywhere you want to go?”

“Huh?”

“I think it would be better if we went for a walk on a nice day like this.” I looked out the window and saw he was right. It wasn’t too hot, and the sky was clear without any grey clouds. It would be much better to go out than to stay cooped up in the condo. It was only 9: 00 AM.

“Then let’s go! Where should we go? The beach?”

“Let’s stay close by. I have a little work to do this evening.” I tried to keep my expression neutral. But every time I hear he has “work” to do, I can’t help but feel a strange tightness in my chest. It’s an uncomfortable weight. Ever since he told me his secret, he’s been much more open, as if he’s allowing me to step fully into his world without holding back or testing the waters like before. Still, I have to admit I don’t really want to know much about it. My heart is too weak for those kinds of things. P’Jane got up to pour two glasses of ice-cold apple juice and handed one to me. I thanked him, and he clinked his glass against mine.

“Cheers.”

“Cheers.” Fine, if he wants to cheers, l’ll cheers back. But what are we cheering for? We aren’t exactly drinking brandy, Mr. Rich Man. I took two refreshing sips. The sweet and tart flavor was revitalizing. P’Jane smiled at me again.

“Finish that glass and go change. Let’s go for a walk.”

“Oh, okay.” I downed it in one go and headed into the walk-in closet. I jumped when I heard a soft knock.

“Yes, P’Jane?”

“I just wanted to say… dress a bit politely, but it doesn’t have to be formal.” He left with a strange smile. I was originally going to grab a cartoon t-shirt, but now I had to think hard. What he meant was likely “Smart Casual”-look good and appropriate for the setting, but not full “Formal.” Ugh, what to pick? I settled on a long-sleeved white shirt with a small embroidered detail on the chest and khaki trousers. I added a belt, too; even though I wouldn’t tuck the shirt in, it added to the look. I used a bit of hair gel and spun around in front of the mirror. It looked okay.

“Is this okay?” The tall, slender man in dark blue jeans and a short-sleeved white shirt turned to look at me, a cigarette still between his lips. He gave me a thumbs up, then extinguished the cigarette in that terrifying way I’ve seen countless times but still can’t get used to: he pinched the glowing tip with his thumb and forefinger. Good grief, are his hands made of iron? He tossed the butt in the bin, washed his hands thoroughly with soap, dried them, and walked over to me. He wrapped his arms around me from behind as we faced the mirror. I saw our reflections-my back pressed against his front. It felt hot. Suddenly, I felt a strange tickle. His padlock pendant and my key pendant caught the light of the walk-in closet, sparkling brilliantly. P’Jane looked at the two necklaces and smiled with satisfaction.

“Perfect. This is exactly what I wanted.”

“Seriously, where are you taking me?”

“It’s not that important of a place, but dressing politely is good. Shall we go?” He straightened up to his full height, and I hurried after him.

“You’re really not going to tell me?”

“You’ll know when we get there.” The large house in the heart of the city was stunning, featuring mid-Rattanakosin era architecture-a blend of international and contemporary Thai identity on nearly an acre of land. I stared up at the pale yellow, classic colonial-style building and felt like my legs had turned to lead. Honestly, I’d been in shock since P’Jane turned the car into the driveway.

“Jane, why are you standing still? Follow me.” His nudge forced me to take a deep breath. My heart was thumping like a war drum. I quickly tucked in the shirt tails I’d left out earlier, thinking it might make me look high-class enough for this place. We walked through an English-style garden with rosemary bushes planted in neat borders. The gardeners here clearly took excellent care of them; they weren’t overgrown and didn’t block the view of the building. The rosemary gave off a faint, relaxing scent. The garden was filled with various leafy plants, flowers, and a luxurious fountain at the center. I left my shoes next to P’Jane’s and put on the plush navy blue indoor slippers the maid had prepared for guests. I felt so small, like I was shrinking into a green bean. Then, P’Jane’s voice made my nerves fray even more.

“Where is Mother?”

“The Lady is having tea on the veranda, sir.” Mother! He brought me to meet his mother without saying a word! I felt faint, like I couldn’t move my legs, but I had no choice but to follow P’Jane’s commanding back. The house was decorated in a vintage style, as if stepping back into the era of King Rama VI, adorned with priceless paintings and collectibles. By the time we walked through, my ears were ringing and my vision was a blur; I couldn’t even tell which piece of art belonged to which artist. Finally, we reached the back veranda. A maid informed us that P’Jane’s mother was having tea. (I say “a maid” because this house seemed to have many of them. ) The sight before me was the back of a slender woman in her mid-sixties, dressed in silk, having a traditional English tea alone. Her neck, arms, and hands were adorned with genuine diamonds-worn with taste, not so much that she looked like a walking jewelry store, but enough to show she had plenty to flaunt. On the table sat an ivory porcelain teapot with floral patterns, alongside sugar, fresh milk, and an elegant tiered set of snacks, like something from a five-star hotel. She was gazing out at her beautiful back garden with satisfaction. I was wondering if I should get on my knees and crawl toward her in traditional Thai polite fashion when P’Jane suddenly shouted at the top of his lungs.

“MOM!”

“Eek!” The woman jumped, causing the tea in her right hand to splash onto the floor. She turned to glare at the person who startled her.

“Goodness, I wondered who would dare shout like that! It’s just my son. What wind blew you here, JP? Showing up without a word. And… did you bring a friend?” I scrambled to give her a polite wai. I was a bit surprised that P’Jane’s mother seemed much more relaxed than I expected. I thought a woman of her status would be arrogant and difficult, looking down on poorer people and refusing to speak to them. I guess I’ve been watching too many soap operas. P’Jane glanced at me before deciding to speak plainly.

“Yeah. A junior from my university.”

“I see. He looks much younger than you, JP. And what’s your name, dear? How old are you?”

“I… my name is Jenalee. You can just call me Jane. I’m twenty.”” Oh! Your name is similar to JP’s. But he is Jane Patrick.”

“Mom, aren’t you going to invite me and Nong Jane to sit down?”

“Aiyee! Now that you’re a young man, you talk too much. Don’t you backtalk your mother like that! If you want to sit, then sit!” She gave her son a playful, dramatic “side-eye” like a young girl before turning to smile at me.

“Please, have a seat, Jane. Niw! Go get more tea for the Young Master and his friend. JP, what do you want? Vanilla Black Tea as usual? And what about Jane?”

“Let him have the same as me.”

“As you wish, dear.” The maid named Niw acknowledged the order and left. I carefully sat down in a chair next to P’Jane. I was so stiff I was afraid I’d clumsily slide off the chair and embarrass myself. P’Jane, on the other hand, seemed very familiar with the place. Even though he hadn’t lived with his mother since elementary school-because Lady Sakuna divorced Mr. Chuck Terry when P’Jane was in fifth grade and moved back to Thailand-he seemed very close to her. There was no awkwardness between them. I wasn’t surprised that his mother called him “JP.” I knew from him that JP is actually his real nickname. It stands for Jane Patrick. Everyone in America, including his biological parents, called him that. But because of that shameful incident, when he moved to Thailand, he told everyone to just call him “Jane.” I think he wanted to wash away the scent of the past, bury the bad things, and be reborn simply as “Jane.” I observed Lady Sakuna’s face. Even though she was in her mid-sixties, there were hardly any deep wrinkles. This is what money does, I suppose… if you have enough of it, you can stay young as long as you want; medical technology has come so far. Beyond that, her figure was as good as a woman half her age, showing she takes excellent care of herself. She must have been a real beauty in her youth-I heard she used to compete in pageants. And from the photos I’d seen online, Mr. Chuck Terry was quite handsome himself. It’s no wonder their son was born with such god-tier looks. A moment later, our tea was served. P’Jane paused to let the maid set down the cups and the pot before asking his mother: “Is Ar-Reuk not around?” (Note: ‘Ar’ refers to his stepfather) “Suphareuk went to some launch event today. He’ll probably be back late tonight.”

“And you didn’t go with him?”

“Oh, I think I need a long break from social events, dear. I’m old; standing in heels for a long time makes my legs ache. Last time I went out smiling, my whole body hurt for two weeks.”

“Aren’t you afraid some woman will throw herself at him? You used to be terrified of that.” I was amazed at how P’Jane could speak about his stepfather without a hint of pain. But then again, his parents had been divorced for over a decade, and P’Jane was a mature adult. Those past events were settled; they weren’t open wounds for anyone anymore. Both Lady Sakuna and Mr. Chuck Terry had raised him well. The Lady pursed her lips.

“Just let Suphareuk try to have a mistress. I’ll handle him and that woman for good. I’ll sue her first, then I’ll sue Suphareuk until he’s penniless. Just you watch.”

“Why didn’t you sue Dad back then? You could have gotten hundreds of millions.”

“Because your father and I broke up because we were incompatible, not because Chuck cheated. Why would I go through the trouble of suing him?”

“Wasn’t it because you couldn’t handle the ‘tough’ life in America and wanted to come back to be a lady of leisure in Thailand?”

“Jane Patrick!”

“I’m kidding.” I watched him tease his mother and just kept sipping my tea. He’s usually in such a terrifying mode that I forget he’s someone’s son. Seeing this human side of him felt unexpectedly heartwarming.

“Jane, dear, try a scone. This place makes them delicious.” Since the Lady insisted, I had no choice but to take a scone, spread some jam on it, and take a bite.

“See? Your eyes went wide-it’s good, isn’t it?”

“It’s really delicious,” I answered sincerely.

“Then eat up! JP, pass the macarons to him. Can he reach them? Give him several pieces.” P’Jane turned to give me a “handsome” smile while piling snacks onto my plate. Wait, was it just a normal smile and I’m just imagining it’s handsome? I’ve really got it bad. Eventually, the Lady checked her phone.

“Oh, it’s past eleven! No wonder it’s getting hot. Let’s move inside. Come, JP, Jane.” We moved to a vintage Louis-style sofa set. The two of them chatted away while I sat as a good listener, until the Lady suddenly turned to me.

“So, Jane, what are you studying? The same major as JP?”

“Yes, ma’am. Same faculty as P’Jane… I mean, P’JP.”

“Goodness, ‘Ma’am’? Just call me ‘Mom.’ Let’s be comfortable; we’re family now.” She smiled so broadly her eyes curved into crescents.

It caught me completely off guard.” Heh… yes, Mom.”

“And what do your parents do, dear?”

“Well… my father is a factory pharmacist, and my mother is a bank manager.” Saying it out loud made my skin flush with a mix of shyness. I felt small again, suddenly afraid to look at this elegant woman. Why was my background so… ordinary? Compared to P’Jane, I wasn’t even a speck of dust. Wait, am I actually feeling inferior about my parents? That’s a terrible thought. They raised me well. Fortune is determined by past karma before we’re even born; it’s not like we can choose. My parents aren’t people to be ashamed of-on the contrary, they are honest people who built their lives through hard work. I should be proud.

“I see,” she smiled.

“And how many siblings do you have?”

“Three of us. One younger brother and one younger sister. I’m the oldest.” Just as I felt an ache in my chest so strong I could barely stay seated, a warm, large hand reached out to take mine. I looked up at his face.

“Jane is a very strong eldest son, Mom. And he’s very disciplined too,” he said softly. The Lady didn’t say anything, she just gave a knowing smile at her son.

“Whatever JP says, I agree with it.” Was there a hidden meaning in that?

“Sit tight for a moment, boys. I need to use the restroom.” She walked away as gracefully as a swan. I let out a massive sigh of relief. P’Jane’s eyes curved into crescents as he gave a wide grin.

“What’s wrong? Are you that stressed?”

“P’Jane! How could you do this? Why didn’t you tell me we were meeting your mom?” I hissed at him. He laughed softly.

“Would you have come if I told you? This is better. I wanted you to be natural.”

“But what if your mom doesn’t like me? What if she tells you to stop seeing me because I’m… too ‘lowly’ for you?” I spoke with a worry I couldn’t hide. P’Jane squeezed my hand tighter.

“I wouldn’t stop. I don’t care who says what. My mother doesn’t have that much influence over me. You have more influence over me than she does. Remember that.” I went dead silent. I didn’t realize my face had turned deep pink until I saw my reflection in the polished glass of the table.

“You’re so wicked. If your mom heard that, she’d be heartbroken.”” Who told you I was a good person?

I’ve always been wicked.” I rolled my eyes.

“I hate the way you fully admitted that you are a bad boy.” He gave a playful smile.

“Why do I need to deny myself, baby? I’m a bad guy and I know it more than you or anyone else.”

“Whatever,” I rolled my eyes again. I knew he had a provocative side-I’d known that since I tried to distance myself from him to date P’Wan. I remember how he drove me nearly insane back then. Today, seeing him tease his own mother… Jane Patrick is just Jane Patrick. He just has many versions. P’Jane’s mother returned.

“Would you two like to stay for lunch? I’ll have the cook prepare it.”

“No, thanks. I’m stuffed with snacks and tea. Jane probably is, too,” P’Jane said, checking his watch.

“I have to get going.”

“Alright. Drive carefully, son.” She leaned in to kiss his cheek, but then her eyes caught something in his breast pocket. She wrinkled her nose.

“JP, how many times have I told you to quit smoking?”

“Okay, I’m going!” P’Jane stood up immediately.

“Stop right there, Jane Patrick! Don’t you dare dodge me. Your father is no good-letting his son smoke since he was fifteen, and you still haven’t quit!” She nagged him relentlessly until P’Jane’s face went stiff. I wanted to laugh until my teeth fell out seeing this version of him getting scolded. No wonder he’d been chewing gum to hide the smell all the way here. She turned to me, breathless.

“Jane, help me. Make JP quit. I don’t want to see him with emphysema or something when he’s old.”

“I won’t be around that long anyway,” P’Jane muttered.

“Goodness! My son, has a ghost possessed your mouth? I carried you with such difficulty! I still remember the morning sickness-Chuck didn’t sleep because he had to rub my back every night while I was vomiting. You’re my only child; you can’t just decide to die young!” P’Jane got lectured for another round. I sat there holding back laughter until my face turned blue, while P’Jane narrowed his eyes at me. Finally, she stopped.

“JP, think of your father’s face. His business is massive-who will take over if you’re his only child? Sigh. Fine, enough. I’m tired of nagging. Go on.”

“Goodbye, Mom,” I bowed. We headed to the car. As we reached the door, I felt around to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything.

“Wait, P’Jane! I forgot my phone. I don’t know if it’s on the veranda or the sofa.”

“I’ll call it.” He dialed my number immediately.

“Oh, Jane! Did you leave your phone here?” The Lady’s voice shouted from the living room.

“Wait! Who is calling? Why is the caller ID saved as ‘Mr. Terrifyingly Thrilling, Horrifically Handsome’? Which friend is this?!”

“Heh, that’s mine. Thank you, Mom!” I dashed back to grab it. When I returned, P’Jane was glaring at me.

“What? I told you I found a nickname for you, so I had to use it!” P’Jane pushed my head forward, shaking his head in exasperation as he led the way to the car. I followed quickly, afraid of being left behind. Later that day, we went for a bike ride in a park. I sped past P’Jane, laughing, because the rental bikes were too small for his long limbs. He looked quite awkward trying to peddle, so l pulled ahead easily. We eventually stopped under a tree, exhausted.

“Wait… don’t go… huff… ” P’Jane panted, his white cheeks flushed red like a foreigner in the sun. While we were resting, two girls-Niew and Pop, the ones from the “Cute Boy” page-spotted us. They begged for photos and an update for their page. P’Jane agreed without asking me, which annoyed me, but I couldn’t say no to their pleading faces. They directed us to pose, even making P’Jane put his arm around me. Then they asked for a video.

“How do you feel about today’s shoot, Nong Jane?”

“Oh, it’s great. The girls are very sweet,” I recited like a script.

“And you, P’Jane?”

“Good. They’re as friendly as ever.”

“P’Jane is graduating this term,” Pop noted sadly.

“We’ll be so lonely without this ‘ship’.”

“I’ll be back to visit someone around here often,” P’Jane answered.” He still has two years left.” The girls squealed. My face was burning.

“Finally, Jane, anything you want to say to P’Jane?”

“Uh… stay healthy. Drink lots of water,” I said, not wanting to mention the smoking on camera.

“And you, P’Jane? Anything for Jane?” P’Jane looked at me with a smile.

“Thank you for coming into my life… making this lone wolf not so lonely anymore.” The girls screamed so loud the pigeons flew away. I was so embarrassed I could barely stand. Lone wolf? How cringe! How edgy! How did he dare say that?! We ended up falling asleep under the tree. I woke up startled by the sound of a cuckoo bird. The sky was dark.

“P’Jane… ”

“It’s 8: 16 PM,” he replied immediately, sounding fully alert.

“We have to go. Now.”

“Back to the condo?”

“No. I have business. You have to come with me. I’m late; I can’t drop you off.” He didn’t give me a chance to argue. He pulled me to the car and drove with terrifying speed until we reached a row of old, bankrupt Chinese restaurants.

“Should I wait in the car?” P’Jane scanned the area warily. He put on a black mask and a cap, then threw on a leather jacket over his white shirt-not his usual style. He killed the engine.

“Come with me.” He decided I was safer with him than in the car. I put on the mask he gave me and followed him, heart racing. He pulled open a metal shutter and headed upstairs without hesitation. It was so quiet l could hear my own heart thumping. We reached the third floor. It was pitch black. We stood in the silence for ten minutes until I couldn’t take it.

“P’_”

“Shh!” He silenced me, but it was too late. The lights snapped on, blindingly bright. P’Jane cursed under his breath. Something had gone wrong. He’d been double-crossed. Click. The sound of at least four guns cocking echoed through the room, all aimed at P’Jane. A man’s gruff voice broke the air.

“Alright. Surrender to the police. Don’t let there be any loss of life.” My heart dropped to my stomach. We were cornered. I turned to look at P’Jane, but before I could react, he yanked me toward him so hard I nearly fell. I couldn’t breathe-his strong arm was wrapped tightly around my neck. It all happened in less than five seconds. The barrel of a gun, cold as ice, was pressed hard against my right temple.

“If you shoot me, I’ll shoot this kid.”… By the hand of Jane Patrick Palakorn.