03. BUSINESS PROPOSAL

The light of dawn filtered through the thin curtains in Jira’s narrow room. He opened his eyes and found himself lying on the bed, with the sheets wrinkled. He sat up, yawned once more, and rubbed his eyes hard.

Little by little, the memories of the frantic night before began to resurface. He quickly turned his head toward the canvas nearby. The painting was finished, created in the shortest time he had ever dedicated to a piece. But the most surprising thing was the brush, his inseparable companion, and the lines that appeared on the paper. It was hard to believe that a painting inspired by a mysterious man could give rise to such an emotion-filled work of art, something he had never achieved before.

Jira’s slim body got out of bed to examine the painting for a moment before taking his mobile phone from the table and checking the messages. One of them was a reminder of a work appointment sent by someone with a profile picture showing John Wick.

“A complete mystery,” Jira thought.

It was clear that it was Ko. The reason the other hid his identity was to avoid leaving clues that would allow his background to be traced easily.

Of course, Jira wasn’t going to reject this job. Although he only knew the contractor’s name and had no other information, he was willing to take the risk. At least, the fact that he had improved his art in a single night, while momentarily relieving his exhaustion, was a benefit that was worth it.

His thin fingers touched the screen to type a brief response:

“I accept, I’ll take the job.”

…

The sound of Jira’s message notification echoed at the same time on the phone of its recipient.

Ko, still exhausted, remained collapsed at the edge of the bed. He took a moment to open the message. The content was simple, just an acceptance of the job, but the feeling of exhaustion from insomnia seemed to ease a little.

The tall man turned the screen, got up from the bed and put on some boxers haphazardly. Shortly after, another notification sounded, this time from the calendar app. He had another appointment with the doctor.

Ko hated going out and dealing with people, he detested being observed, so he was quite reserved. Despite his chronic insomnia, which forced him to visit the doctor, he stubbornly communicated only by video call.

“How have you been sleeping lately? How is the insomnia?” the psychiatrist on duty asked, beginning the remote consultation.

Despite everything, Ko kept the camera off, not showing his face to the doctor. It wasn’t that they had never met in person, but he took precautions to prevent them from recording his face or capturing screen images.

“It hasn’t improved at all. I wake up startled at midnight all the time. Could you prescribe me something stronger?” Ko replied.

“I don’t recommend it, Khun Ko. What I gave you is already quite strong. Something more potent could have side effects,” the doctor said with concern.

“That means there is a stronger medication, right?”

“Prescribing medications only treats the symptoms. For insomnia, we should talk more about the causes.”

“Prescribe me the new medication for now. I’m busy, but when I have time, I’ll have someone contact you.”

“If I may suggest, at least you should avoid alcohol. Are you still drinking?” “Yes, I’m still drinking.”
“Ideally, you should stop. Doing some exercise could also help relieve the insomnia.” “Understood. Talk later.”
Ko ended the call; he didn’t want to hear more advice. After finishing the video call, he staggered toward the bar, took out a bottle of plum liquor, and filled a glass with more than usual. The bottle was almost empty. He drank it in one gulp, hoping it would help him fully wake up.

It was just after nine in the morning. After drinking the plum liquor to adjust his mood, Ko focused on the computer. On the screen, it was visible that he was in a meeting with several shareholders. One of them was a man around forty years old, owner of immense capital that supported Ko’s business.

“We are often the subject of inspection and surveillance in the business transactions we are carrying out. This, Phi Kit probably knows well,” Ko said.

Ko’s main goal that day was to convince investors to contribute more capital to the project. Although he had some closeness with Kit, the main investor, the amount of money required was so large that it couldn’t be accepted without thinking twice. Ko was somewhat worried about not achieving it.

“But the brilliant part of my proposal is that this technology is new, which means that legislation hasn’t reached it yet. This gives us the opportunity to make our companies appear more legitimate. We’ll be the pioneers in today’s technological landscape. The trend is here, Phi, and nothing is going to stop this technology now.”

Kit listened in silence, without interrupting or contradicting, giving Ko the opportunity to fully present his plan.

“In terms of startups, we’ll need a lot of resources. I’ll finish dad’s money too fast. Frankly, that should benefit you, right? And the return on investment (ROI) this time will be much greater. What do you think, Kit?”

The shareholders looked at each other, waiting for the response of the man who had the final word. Kit’s bold attitude and unfriendly image made those present feel intimidated.

“Don’t come to me with empty dreams. You can burn through my money however you want, but the only thing I care about is that you return it to me safely,” Kit said, making several in the meeting flinch. Only Ko remained calm, controlling the situation.

“Of course, Phi,” Ko replied without changing expression. “If that’s the case, perfect.”
“Then, I’ll let my team explain the project now.” “Go ahead, speak.”
“Understood.”

Ko stepped aside to let his team continue the conversation with the investors. He moved away, closed the video call, and sighed deeply. He took the glass of plum liquor from the table and drank it in one shot. The exhaustion of climbing up through not-so-clean means was probably one of the reasons he could never sleep well.

The medications didn’t help. The alcohol only relieved the symptoms. It wasn’t easy to live day by day. He didn’t know if the day would ever come when he could sleep deeply without waking up in the middle of the night because of the nightmares that constantly tormented him.

…

Meanwhile, Ing worked intensely, her eyes fixed on the monitor, selecting actors for a commercial. She tried to give instructions to the actor in front of her to show the correct expressions and emotions for a crunchy snack product.

The actress nodded, understanding, and began acting according to the indications. At that moment, Jira appeared in the studio. His face pressed against the glass of the door, a terrifying image for Ing. Even so, she tried to interpret the body language of her friend to understand what he wanted.

Jira pulled his face away from the glass and gestured, indicating that he had something important to discuss. Ing, busy, signaled for him to wait. Jira understood, but being the restless person he was, he couldn’t stay still and began pacing back and forth. Nearly thirty minutes passed before Ing opened the door and came out.

“Come in,” Ing said, inviting him to sit in her office after finishing the casting.

“Today you look more mysterious than usual, but I’m glad you showed up. Yesterday you caused a disaster, and the client called me to yell at me,” Ing said.

Jira didn’t waste time and told her everything that happened, speaking with enthusiasm. “It’s just that he was a racist.”
“If you need his money, put up with it a little.”

“There’s no turning back now. The payment is gone… on a steak.”

The truth was that all the money had been spent on a plate of meat. In that moment, he didn’t think about the money, only about letting out his frustration.

But that wasn’t the main reason he had gone there. What mattered was what happened afterward.

“Girl, I need your help,” Jira said directly. Ing, seeing his serious expression, understood immediately.

“How much? I’ll transfer it now.”

“Wow! Do you think I only come to ask you for money? I still haven’t paid the hundred-thousand debt.”

“Then what?” Ing said, motioning for him to get back to the point. “What do you need?”
“At the restaurant I met a stranger. He offered me a lot of money to hire me.” “To do what?” Ing asked, frowning.
“He didn’t tell me.”

“This sounds like a scam, Jira.”

“That’s why I came to ask for your help. Find out who he is.” “Alright. Give me whatever information you have.”
“He’s staying in the penthouse of a hotel…” Jira mentioned the name of the hotel while Ing opened her laptop and started searching based on what he told her.

“He drives a black Maserati, with the plate number…”

It was a common plate, not an auction one, as if the owner didn’t want to attract attention. “What else do you know?” Ing asked.

“He has a Line account with a John Wick profile picture.”

“He’s definitely a movie fan. Good thing he’s not staying at The Continental to get more into character,” Ing joked.

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I. Any other detail?” “That’s all.”
“Wow, how much information! Super useful,” Ing said sarcastically before getting to the most important point.

“And the name?” “Ko.”
“Full name?”

“He didn’t tell me.”

“What does he look like physically?” “Handsome.”
“Do you have a photo?”

“No. I was with him and didn’t dare take out my phone to take one.” Jira knew the information was insufficient, but he had nothing else.

“I only know he’s super mysterious. He drives a luxury car, stays in a hotel penthouse, but his room is a mess. He said he doesn’t want the maids touching his personal documents, which is weird.”

“Damn it. I bet he works in something shady,” Ing said, the possibilities growing more unsettling.

“Do you remember anything else?”

Jira thought for a moment, hesitating whether he should say it, but after looking at Ing, he decided to share it.

“He got naked in front of me.” “Is that relevant?”
“You asked.”

“Did he want to sleep with you or what?”

“No. He said that after the interview I should leave.” “What the hell goes through his head? How strange.”
“Yeah, it’s weird. But do you know why he wanted to hire me?” Ing shook her head, intrigued.

“He said that when he looked at my face he didn’t feel anything, that’s why he felt comfortable getting naked and acting like he was alone.”

“Do men normally get naked in front of others?” “Sometimes.”
“Don’t tell me you saw his… and that’s why you accepted the job.”

“It’s not because of that. I accepted because he pays well. If not, how would I pay you what I owe you?”

Ing made a horrified face upon realizing Jira had already accepted.

“Be careful. Mysterious rich men are dangerous. One day you wake up in a call center at the border, and I won’t know how to rescue you.”

Although her words sounded exaggerated, Ing was truly worried about Jira. “That’s why I came to talk to you.”
At that moment, Jira’s phone chimed with a notification. He opened it quickly and saw it was a message from Ko, summoning him to his room that afternoon.

Jira reread the message and showed it to Ing to ask for advice. “Girl, he called me. What do I do?”
“Think carefully. Try to remember any detail about him. Was there anything in the room that gave clues about who he is? Letters, notes?”

Jira closed his eyes, trying to remember. But instead of seeing anything in the room, his mind projected the image of the bathtub and Ko’s body.

“Damn it! I don’t remember anything, I only saw him.”

“What a mess! There’s nothing to do now. Decide whether you go or not, but if you go, try to get more information about this guy.”

Jira nodded, accepting Ing’s instructions.

“I just need his full name. That will help search for information. At least I’ll know who I’m dealing with and what I should watch out for.”

…

Jira memorized the instructions, feeling like a Mission Impossible spy, even though his face and eyes clearly showed worry.

The roar of a motorcycle echoed as it sped up through the suffocating heat, turning toward the entrance of the luxurious hotel at sunset. Jira got off the bike, took off his helmet, and returned it to the driver.

“How much is it, Phi?”

“How much do you usually pay, nong?”

Jira froze. Every time he heard that question, he ended up arguing. But since he had some time, he decided to play along.

“How much do you usually charge? It’s my first time coming.” “Well, let’s say 45.”
“‘Let’s say’? Isn’t that the normal price?”

“Yes, that’s the price, nong. I’m not scamming you.”

“If I find out the normal price is lower and you’re charging me extra, we’ll have a problem.” “Come on, nong! You want to argue over five or ten bahts?”
“It’s not about ‘only’. It’s my five or ten bahts.” “Fine, I’ll leave it at 40.”
“Are you lowering it or is that the real price?”

The driver rolled his eyes, nearly falling backward. Jira, satisfied with the argument, took out the money and paid quickly.

The motorcycle sped away, and Jira turned to enter the hotel lobby. He didn’t bother texting Ko.

As soon as he sat on a lobby sofa, an older man in a hotel uniform approached with a polite smile and greeted him courteously.

“Good afternoon, are you Jira?” “Yes, that’s me.”
“Please follow me. I’ll take you upstairs.”

The man, around his mid-fifties, guided him to the elevator to take him to the top floor. Jira, silent, watched him. Because of his polite manner and the access card he could use anywhere in the hotel, Jira assumed he was the manager.

He didn’t want to let the opportunity pass, so he tried to strike up a conversation to get information out of him about Ko.

“Are you the hotel manager?” “No, I’m the butler.”
“Oh, so you take care of him?”

The butler looked at him and nodded, but didn’t answer any more questions. Jira, persistent, tried again.

“Mr. Butler, what is Ko’s real name?”

“I am not authorized to reveal confidential information about my boss,” the butler replied with a polite smile, watching the elevator numbers rise.

With no cooperation, Jira decided he would have to find out the truth himself. “We’re here. Go ahead,” the butler said, making a courteous gesture.
But just when they were in front of the door, the butler stopped Jira with an unsettling phrase. “Sorry for the lack of courtesy, but I must check your body and keep your mobile phone.” “Seriously? Is it necessary to go this far?”
“It is Khun Ko’s rule.”

“I’m not going to leak information about your boss, relax.” “Please, extend your arms.”
Good heavens… Jira was stunned, not knowing what to say. Finally, he extended his arms so the butler could check him thoroughly, including the items he carried.

In reality, they could take everything from him – none of it had value: neither his wallet nor the access card to his room. But the only thing he didn’t want to give up was his phone. If he entered the room and something unexpected happened, he wouldn’t be able to call for help.

That was more terrifying than ending up at the border. Ing wouldn’t even know where he had been murdered.

“Can I keep my phone? Just for safety.”

Jira gave pleading eyes, but the butler didn’t budge. “It is the will of Khun Ko.”
“I swear I won’t reveal any secret.”

“It is the protocol, Mr. Jira. You might feel a bit bothered, and when you leave the hotel I will check again to make sure you don’t take anything.”

In the end, Jira had no choice but to hand over the phone. “How exhausting…” he muttered.
After the inspection, the butler rang the doorbell and waited until someone inside authorized entry. Then he nodded for Jira to go in alone, while he stored the belongings and walked down the hallway.

“Seriously? They confiscate the phone and the backpack?” Instead of greeting, Jira expressed his question immediately.
The first thing he saw upon entering was Ko, sitting relaxed on the sofa, holding a glass of liquor that he swirled as if enjoying it.

“If I allow you to check my social media, what does it matter?” “And how do you check them?”
“My IT team handles it.”

Jira pressed his lips together, unable to argue. To shake off his irritation, he approached the sofa and saw an elegant binder on the table, surrounded by glasses, liquor bottles, and wine. A complete mess.

Ko pushed a document toward him. “What is this?” Jira asked.
“An NDA.”

“What is an NDA?”

“A confidentiality agreement. If you reveal anything about me or leak work information, you’ll be sued.”

“Seriously? Would we go that far?”

“It’s standard procedure. For serious jobs, it’s always done this way.” “And how strict is it?”
“What do you mean?” Ko asked back. “Can I talk about you with my friend?”
“No. Anything related to me, whatever it is, is prohibited.”

Ing’s face flashed in Jira’s mind. He had already talked too much earlier. “And if someone sees us together by accident? Can I say something?” “Lie. You’re good at acting.”
Jira felt a small sting, but what could he do?

He wanted at least a little leverage in the negotiation. “And if I don’t sign?”
“You can go home. There are many people who want this job.” But that leverage wasn’t coming today.
If accepting meant receiving the promised money, it was worth it. Jira didn’t think much more.

He took the contract, read it quickly, and at the same time tried to follow Ing’s mission to uncover secrets.

He searched for the hiring company’s name, but as if cursed, the name on the contract belonged to an unknown, generic company. He flipped page after page, looking for a director’s name. Suddenly, he jumped with excitement when he saw a distinguished, elegant signature.

“Is this your signature? It’s pretty.”

“No, it’s the signature of the general director of my company.” “And your name, where is it?”
“It’s not there.”

Jira cursed in his mind. He should have known – it wouldn’t be easy. To avoid irritating Ko with more questions, he decided to sign the contract.

“All done,” he said, handing back the binder. “Good.”
“Since I’m your employee, can I ask the boss for something?” “What do you want?”
“If one day you ask me to do something I don’t want to do, I’d like to be able to quit with prior notice.”

Ko fell silent. He had never met someone who, after signing a contract, was already planning their resignation. Jira always surprised him.

And although unpredictability could be bothersome, it also added some color. “Hmm… I’ll take note, but I won’t promise to comply.”
Jira wanted to protest, but the sound of an incoming call on Ko’s phone interrupted him. The tall man stood up and went to the balcony to answer, without looking back.

“Tell me.”

[Kit is in. He will invest another year. The amount we’ll discuss according to the rules. It’ll be ready soon], said the deep voice on the other end. It was Pheem, Ko’s close friend.

“Understood.”

Pheem spoke on the phone while walking down the hallway of the IT laboratory. As the system manager, he worked mainly in the office, while Ko preferred to stay isolated and avoid contact with others.

[And what about the AI and the layoffs? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?] Pheem asked, somewhat annoyed upon finding out his friend planned to fire employees.

“The investors want us to reduce costs in the project. For this quarter, we have to cut staff.” [How many?]
“An entire department.”

Pheem stopped walking. His handsome face darkened instantly. He knew this day would come, but he hadn’t expected it to be this serious.

[And who will tell the team?] “You.”
Ko hung up abruptly, leaving Pheem stunned for a moment.

Their friendship, woven over ten years, had begun at the same university, studying computer science together. Both were brilliant, but what Pheem didn’t have to the same degree as Ko was his excessive ambition, which surpassed that of any ordinary person.

Ko was driven by resentment, pushing himself to the limit, willing to die before surrendering. It wasn’t surprising that, in the past, he had seen an opportunity and thrown himself into the startup world without knowing whether he would succeed or fail.

Their roles as founders were different. Ko provided the initial capital and sought investors, so he seemed like the owner with the most power. Pheem handled the IT systems in the background. Both worked in parallel, though their relationship was like an unstable marriage: three good days, four bad ones.

It wouldn’t be wrong to say they loved each other, but it was also toxic. Even so, neither thought about letting go.

With a heavy mood, Pheem returned to his office. He stopped in front of the door, hand on the handle, when his sharp eyes saw, through the glass, the IT employees working at their computers. He didn’t have the courage to look them in the face.

Until one of them noticed him and called him over with a gesture. Pheem swallowed hard, opened the door, and entered. At that moment, the office lights went out.

“Happy Birthday to you!”

The surprise didn’t last long before everything became clear.

Gim, a close colleague of similar age, came out with a cake from the break room.

The candles lit the room instead of the lights. Everyone sang to celebrate Pheem’s birthday.

The more affection his coworkers showed, the more uncomfortable Pheem felt. He smiled, though he knew he would soon have to fire this group.

If he could make a wish, it would be that they could all stay. But if that wasn’t possible, at least he wanted to curse his friend.

“Damn Ko, damn you!”

“Happy birthday, man!” said Mawin, slapping Pheem on the shoulder, pulling him out of his deep thoughts.

Pheem looked at Mawin with a heavy expression, not knowing how to tell him the truth. “Thanks, man.”
Besides him, Mawin was one of the best in the team. Their tastes and lifestyles were similar, which allowed them to talk about anything and hang out together. Pheem didn’t want to hide the truth from him and wanted to warn him so he could prepare.

“Come on, let’s talk outside.”

Mawin was perplexed, with an expression that seemed to glimpse his fate.

…

Outside the office, in a small space reserved for employees to smoke, Pheem-almost one meter ninety-smoked a cigarette tensely. Mawin, beside him, was also smoking, and the white smoke filled the air.

“What the hell is going on? Did the surprise bother you that much?” “It surprised me, but it’s not because of the birthday.”
“I can smell the disaster from far away,” Mawin said, grimacing. If he bought a lottery ticket, Mawin would probably win first prize.

“If I tell you something, can you not tell anyone?” Pheem said as the cigarette smoke relaxed him a little. However, seeing Mawin’s expectant expression made him even more stressed.

“I don’t want panic spreading.” “Tell me.”
“The company is going to restructure.”

“Restructure, my ass!” Mawin shouted, throwing his cigarette to the ground and crushing it furiously.

“Calling it fancy doesn’t change that they’re going to fire people! And do they expect me to fire the others?”

“No. They’re going to fire the entire floor… including you, Mawin.”

Mawin almost collapsed. He took another cigarette from his back pocket and lit it. “Damn it. I just made the down payment for a new car. What do I do now?”
“Who told you to buy a car in your first year?”

“I didn’t want to wait. I thought things were stable.” Mawin stopped, as if something had occurred to him. “Wait, you’re not getting fired, right? You’re Ko’s friend.”
“We’re friends, but he doesn’t listen to me. I’m telling you so you can look for another job soon.”

“Straight to the point: if you two are so close, why do you let him do this?” “Do you think I don’t know how he is?”
They both looked at each other, resigned.

Mawin had never seen Ko in person nor spoken to him, since he was very reserved. He only knew he was the founder, while Pheem was his close friend who helped build the company. But in terms of decision-making power, Pheem was nothing more than a pawn, with no capacity to negotiate.

“Since I’m getting fired, can you take me to meet him? I want to kick his face!” Mawin said, full of fury. Pheem sighed; he didn’t want Mawin wasting his energy. Fighting Ko was only a loss of time and effort.

“Forget it. Even if you saw him, you couldn’t do anything. Worry about yourself instead. What will you do now?”

Mawin had spent a fortune the previous month to maintain an image of success, not imagining he would soon be fired without notice. It was ironic thinking he was basically writing his own resignation letter.

“We already signed a non-compete agreement,” Mawin said, his voice growing lower but still full of anger.

“I can’t start my own company or use the code I wrote anywhere else. Damn it!” Pheem smoked hard at the complaints.
“Then start saving. If the rent is high, you can move into my place.” Mawin’s eyes lit up, as if seeing a light at the end of the tunnel. “Damn! I won’t refuse. But the layoffs, is it certain?”
“Almost certain.”

Mawin tried to accept reality. He put out the cigarette even though he had barely smoked it. “Fine, I’ll move to your place. I won’t pay the electricity; I already spent money on the cake.” “Does the cake cost as much as the electricity bill?”
“It includes sentimental value, idiot!”

…

While one group was dealing with the news of the layoffs, Ko acted as if nothing was happening.

He searched for something on the table full of computer components and pulled a measuring tape from under the keyboard. Jira followed him with his eyes and noticed the water cup marks all over the table.

“How long has it been since you cleaned this table?”

Jira’s slender hand tried to touch the messy objects out of curiosity, but it was slapped harshly by Ko, who looked at him severely.

“Don’t touch other people’s things.”

Frustrated for not getting information and being constantly watched, Jira had no choice but to approach the taller man and let him measure his body with the tape.

“Why are you measuring?” “To make you a suit.”

Ko wrote the numbers on a nearby tablet and continued measuring other parts of his body until he reached the shoulders.

“You have narrow shoulders.”

“I was born like that, what can we do.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll have a suit made that makes your shoulders look wider.”

Jira rolled his eyes. If he was going to throw the tape around, there was no need to make such a mess.

He observed Ko’s behavior. After recording the measurements, Ko called his team.

“Find a classic beige blazer with these measurements. And prepare several suits for formal occasions. I’ll choose later.”

The person on the line agreed, and Ko hung up. He turned toward Jira with a cold, emotionless expression.

“So what do you want me to do?” “I want you to be Khun K.”
“Who is Khun K?” “Me.”
“Oh, K for Ko? Ko for ‘causing trouble’?” Jira made a bored face, but, determined to continue with his mission, he invented an excuse.

“What’s your real name? I want to get to know you better.”

“Know only what I want you to know. You’ll be my representative, you’ll attend meetings and negotiate in my place.”

“Why don’t you do it yourself?”

“I don’t like dealing with people. It’s complicated, dramatic, unpredictable.”

“Sometimes, mistakes come from feelings. I don’t want to get attached to anyone, or help, or feel empathy. In the end, that can ruin a business.”

“But I’m also a person. Won’t that be a problem?”

“Don’t worry. If you do something wrong…” Ko’s eyes, like a hawk’s, locked onto Jira, who felt like prey. He spoke clearly and firmly:

“I will find a way to get rid of you.” “What the hell.”

“Were you expecting me to be nice?” “You’re heartless.”
“If having a heart means living like you, I’d rather not have one.”

Jira felt like he’d been punched. His life was already difficult, and now he had a boss with a blade for a tongue. He’d have to brace himself for the blows until his first paycheck arrived.

“I already made you a schedule. Starting tomorrow, you’ll begin training to be Khun K.” Ko went back to the table, took out a document with the itinerary, and handed it to him. Jira looked down and read the details point by point.
“Table manners? What does that mean?” “What it says.”
“Thanks for the explanation. Super clear.” The first point didn’t seem like a problem. The second…

“I already know how to drive, I don’t need training.”

“You’ll have to drive my car. At the very least, you need to practice handling it well.”

“It’s like an economy car, right?” An economy car vs. a luxury car-only the price and engine change. But before he could say it, he heard Ko sigh. Jira pressed his lips together and kept reading the itinerary.

“Wait, memorize a new daily routine? Do I have to become you 100%?” “Not necessary. Just remember you’re the CEO. Now you may leave.” “What?”
“Leave.”

“I came only for this?”

“Or do you want to do something else?” Ko approached with an intimidating stare, making Jira step back quickly.

“Tomorrow at nine. Arrive on time.” “Got it.”
“I’ll have the butler call a car. Wait in the lobby.” “You…” Jira hesitated.

He was considering asking for something. He hadn’t officially started work yet, but the money Ing had lent him was running out, debts were choking him, and the new job wasn’t paying yet. He decided to swallow his pride and ask his boss for help.

“Can I ask for an advance? I’m short on money.” “Leave your account number. I’ll take care of it.”
Ko didn’t ask anything. It was so easy that Jira couldn’t stop praising him. “You really are handsome, rich, and generous.”
“Send the number by PromptPay. Thanks in advance.”

Jira left the room in a good mood. When the elevator took him to the lobby, the car the butler had called was already waiting.

He sat in the back seat. Moments later, a notification from his banking app sounded. Jira’s heart pounded, but his smile disappeared when he saw the amount.
He had imagined ten thousand baht, maybe twenty thousand if Ko was generous. But the reality was very different.

Three hundred baht.

“I shouldn’t have wasted time praising him, damn it!”

…

The next day, Jira took the same motorcycle to the hotel. He got off, removed the helmet, and returned it to the driver. This time, he didn’t have time to argue.

“How much?”

“Nong, I’m not playing today. Forty.”

“I’m not playing either.” Jira took out two twenty-baht bills. “Thanks for bringing me.”
The driver left, and Jira entered the hotel with a bag of fried bananas he bought near his dorm. Seeing the butler waiting, he quickly approached to greet him and offered the bag as a courtesy gesture. In reality, it was more of a bribe.

“Good morning, Mr. Butler. I brought you some fried bananas.” “Thank you,” said the butler, accepting them. “Follow me.”
As the elevator rose to the top floor, Jira took advantage of the brief moment to inquire about the people close to Ko.

“Does everyone who wants to see him have to go through you?” The butler nodded.
“And who can go up without waiting for you?” “His friends.”
“Who? Do I know them?” Jira feigned enthusiasm. “I can’t say.”
The elevator doors opened. Jira, without being asked, handed over his phone and extended his arms for inspection. He was only allowed to bring a small bunch of flowers he had in his pocket.

The process went smoothly, and Jira entered the room. Besides greeting cheerfully, this time he offered a small bouquet of pink roses he had cut from his balcony.

“Hi! I brought you some flowers.” “Didn’t you say you had no money?”
Ko came out of the bedroom shirtless, with a white towel wrapped around his lower half. It was obvious he had just showered. Jira ignored the muscular body and focused on his face, answering with sarcasm.

“Why criticize generosity? I didn’t buy them; I grew them myself. I saw your room was a bit dull, so I thought some flowers might brighten it up.”

“I don’t like flowers.” “Well then…”
“Wait there.”

Ko, tired of arguing, gave a short order and went back to the bedroom.

Minutes later, the butler informed them they had prepared a private dining room to train Jira as CEO.

Ko led him to the hotel’s dining room, where several dishes were on the table. Jira hadn’t expected Ko to take everything so seriously.

“The main course will be negotiating and talking business, so practice,” Ko said, stopping next to a chair and pulling it slightly so Jira would sit.

“Sit.”

Jira obeyed. His round eyes followed Ko, who walked around the table and sat on the other side.

“I studied life skills at the university,” Jira said. “Perfect.”
“But I returned everything to the teacher.” “Then why mention it?”
Ko shook his head, exasperated, while Jira placed a white napkin on his lap with skill. Every movement was under the boss’s attentive gaze.

“Do you know how to use a knife and fork?” asked Ko in a deep voice.
“Easy. You eat.”

“There won’t be appetizers or starters. We’ll go straight to the main dish so you can practice with utensils on a complicated menu.”

“Understood.”

Before starting, Ko took Jira’s hand and examined it.

“Your palm is soft, but the back is dry, as if you don’t take care of it. And your nails aren’t good. Take better care of them.”

“Is that a mouth or what? What does that have to do with work?” “It’s part of the image.”
Jira moved his fingers and looked at Ko’s hand. “Let me see that well-kept hand.”
Ko didn’t refuse and let Jira touch his hand. His fingers were elegant, probably because he didn’t do heavy work and spent most of the time in front of a computer. His hobby of assembling electronic devices didn’t leave his hands rough compared to Jira’s.

The butler, watching them, smiled discreetly. Ko, noticing he was being watched, signaled the employees to leave the dining room.

“When will I really start working? I’m having financial problems.” “When the time comes. Eat.”
Ending the conversation, Ko’s sharp eyes observed Jira, who took the wrong fork and was cutting a rib with effort. Uncomfortable with the incorrect technique, Ko took out his phone, placed it on the table, and gave orders to an AI to teach.

The AI’s monotonous, lifeless voice echoed in the room.

“To your left there are three forks: the large one for the main dish, the small one for fish, and the last one for desserts or salads.”

Jira lifted his gaze toward Ko, who was watching him with a neutral expression. He quickly changed the fork, and the AI’s voice continued:

“To your right is the knife for cutting meat, then the knife for spreading butter, and the serrated knife for bread.”

Jira rolled his eyes and said sarcastically:

“Next time, send a link with the AI’s instructions. That way I won’t have to come all the way to the hotel.”

“Your way of cutting the rib is terrible.” “Can you not criticize so much? It hurts!” “It’s not a criticism, it’s the truth.”
“Why doesn’t the expert do it and show me? But without AI, please.”

Ko deactivated the command on the phone, took the knife and fork, and cut the rib with skill. Although he didn’t explain, his movements were so clear that Jira understood instantly. He watched Ko’s hands, fascinated, not knowing why he suddenly liked his gestures.

But then he regained his composure and shook his head to push those thoughts away. Just then, Ko finished cutting the meat.
“Eat.”

Jira was surprised when the plate was slid toward him. “For me?”
“Yes.”

“Wow, someone cut the meat for me! Thanks.”

Jira accepted the courtesy and took the plate, handing his own uncut steak to Ko, which made him question:

“Why are you giving it to me?”

“You also cut and eat. Let’s exchange.” “Your job is to cut for me sometimes.”
“It will be next time. I think I’ve mastered this already.”

“Why not this time?” “Because I’m tired.”
Jira speared the cut meat and brought it to his mouth. Since he didn’t want to argue further, Ko accepted the steak and cut it for himself.

“The hotel’s food is incredible. It’s expensive, but the quality is high.” Jira didn’t know what else Ko could want, being so rich.
“If you like it, great. From now on, work so my investment is worth it.” “Everything seems to revolve around benefits, doesn’t it?”
“Isn’t it a mutual benefit that you work for me? I get what I want, and you get money.” “That’s right.”
Jira seemed somewhat discouraged, and Ko noticed the change in his expression, but only looked at him.

The atmosphere at the table was silent-not uncomfortable, but not fully comfortable either.

It was just a meal to teach Jira how to use utensils and what to do or not do in front of an interlocutor.

But what he didn’t know was who his boss truly was.

Because Ko didn’t open up enough to let him know beyond the surface. The first task of the day ended.
Jira left, with the butler calling a taxi for him. Ko returned to his room, let himself fall onto the sofa to recharge, and then dedicated himself to working on the computer. While he was immersed in the data, a glimmer on the center table caught his attention.

It was the small bouquet of roses that Jira had given him hours earlier.

Tired, he used the moment to get up and stretch on the sofa. Then a strange idea made him take the bouquet and examine it. It contained five flowers wrapped in brown paper and a cheap string.

Before, it had seemed pretty to him, but now the roses, cut and without water, were beginning to wither. He didn’t think they could brighten the room.

Without hesitation, Ko walked to the kitchen counter and threw the roses in the trash without a second thought.

His handsome face remained indifferent, showing neither joy nor disgust. As if they meant nothing to his heart.