08. CO-WORKER

The sound of the alarm clock pulled the tall man, who had been sleeping deeply in bed, out of his trance. He shifted slightly, picked up the phone to silence it, and squinted at the screen. It was five in the morning.

Ko moved slightly to turn on the bedside lamp. Once clarity returned, he felt completely refreshed. He had slept uninterrupted, and the accumulated fatigue had vanished, as if he had a new body.

He swung his legs off the bed and stepped into the living room, whose door wasn’t fully closed, illuminated faintly by a standing lamp. A few steps away, he saw Jira curled up on the sofa, sleeping deeply. The thin sheet covering him had slipped to the floor. Ko felt a mix of tenderness and pity-Jira slept like a small child.

He picked up the sheet from the floor and carefully draped it over Jira, taking care not to wake him. Then, he sat down, hugged his knees, and watched the young man’s serene yet stubborn face.

He didn’t know why he was doing this.

A friend once told him that if, when looking at someone for the first time, you don’t feel anything, you’ll never feel more than that for them. That was the reason he had chosen Jira for this job. But over time, he had begun to fear that his initial intentions might change. Even though he knew what awaited him at the end of the path, he remained impassive, letting things flow. If someone became a problem in his life, he would simply fire them.

The man held that thought, frowning without realizing it.

Gradually, sunlight replaced the darkness until morning fully arrived.

At six o’clock, Jira began to stir on the sofa. Ko, who had been silently observing him, startled and quickly got up. He walked to the desk, turned on the computer, and pretended to be busy with something. When he heard Jira moving, he turned toward him as if nothing had happened.

“Already awake?” he asked in a deep, slightly hoarse voice. Seeing Jira’s still-sleepy face, he smiled to himself, though his expression remained indifferent.

“Yes, I slept like the dead. And you? Couldn’t sleep again?” Jira scratched his head, further tousling his already messy hair.

“No, I slept deeply. No dreams.”

“Don’t tell me it’s because of me. How dramatic,” Jira joked.

Perhaps he didn’t know the exact reason, but Jira’s presence confirmed something: Ko had slept deeply twice without needing pills, without drinking liquor or smoking to relieve stress. At that moment, he hadn’t even tried forcing sleep, which was almost miraculous.

“Are you hungry?” Ko asked, changing the topic.

“Why? Are you going to treat me to breakfast? If so, I’ll pass. Better tell me, what’s on the agenda today? If there’s nothing, I’m leaving.”

“Come swim with me.” “Is that part of the job?”
“Yes. Don’t forget, your task is to be Ko.”

Since signing the contract, Jira had only once acted as Ko. The other tasks were absurd: from keeping him company to sleep to training to swim. Every day, the responsibilities strayed further from what he had expected.

“But I can’t swim,” Jira protested. “I’ll teach you.”
“Are we talking business at the pool?” “Why today?”
“Because today I feel like swimming,” Ko replied. Every question had an answer, though they didn’t seem to convince Jira, who made a displeased face. Ko added, “Besides, the doctor recommended exercise to combat my insomnia. I want someone to swim with me.”

“The point is, you just want company to swim.” “Exactly.”
“You could ask someone else. Why me?”

“Because you’re here now. If I wait for someone else, I’ll lose interest.” “I don’t have a swimsuit.”
“Doesn’t matter. The butler will handle it. Just come down to the pool. It won’t take long, then I’ll let you go home.”

Ko radiated confidence. When their eyes met, Jira began to believe he wasn’t lying. After a moment’s thought, he replied: “Fine, deal.”

Jira left the dressing room and headed to the pool after changing. His eyes caught a sign that read “Cleaning in Progress”, like last time. Further away, he saw a staff member cleaning the floor, though there didn’t seem to be anything to clean. Then he understood.

It wasn’t the hotel’s cleaning schedule. It was Ko’s order to avoid interruptions. Closing the pool entirely would have been too obvious, so they put up a cleaning sign, though it didn’t improve much.

Jira passed the sign and saw Ko, in a swimsuit, waiting for him in a chair by the pool. He approached and sat in the chair next to him.

Uncomfortable under Ko’s piercing yet calm gaze, Jira rubbed his arms to ease his shyness. “What’s wrong? Cold?” Ko asked with a serious expression.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Jira replied. “Can’t I look?”
Ko’s teasing tone, combined with his stare, made Jira blush. He quickly looked away and changed the subject:

“What made you swim at this hour?”

“There aren’t many people,” Ko replied, lightly.

“Also, I like it. It clears my mind. Usually, Pheem swims with me, but from now on, it’ll be you.”

“Let Pheem handle that job.”

“Pheem’s busy. You’re fine. Otherwise, why did I hire you?”

Ko stood up and walked down the pool stairs. From above, Jira made a face before being ordered: “Come down now.”

Although hesitant, Jira descended carefully. When the cold water touched his body, his skin goosebumped. Instinctively, he grabbed Ko’s arm for support. Once he got used to the water, he let go.

“First, tell me your swimming level,” Ko said. “None. Zero.”
“Well, more than half the world can’t swim. You just need to learn to be with me.” Ko placed his hands on Jira’s shoulders, turning him to face him.
“First, you need to learn to breathe underwater.” “You know how to teach? Isn’t that dangerous?” “I won’t let you drown.”
They stayed at the edge of the pool. The first lesson was breathing in through the mouth and exhaling through the nose. Ko demonstrated step by step.

“Now you,” he instructed softly.

Jira followed the instructions without complaint. He thought that if he learned to swim, he could invite Pheem to swim or travel to relax. With that idea, he submerged his face slightly while Ko, watching without blinking, began counting:

“One, two, three…”

But within a few seconds, Jira gave up and lifted his head out of the water. Ko, seeing this, calmly commanded: “Again. One…”

“I can’t,” Jira complained.

“Kids learning to swim do it better.” “Because they’re kids!”
“Do you want the pay or not?” At the mention of money, Jira’s eyes lit up. If it was part of the job, he couldn’t give up. He submerged his face again, looking at Ko’s face while he counted slowly:

“…two, three, four, five, six, seven.”

Jira lived by the motto that if the boss told him to jump, he’d ask how high; if told to dive, he’d ask how deep. Though he wasn’t actually diving, he managed to inhale and exhale successfully.

He emerged from the water, gasping.

“Good job! Now try diving,” Ko praised, issuing the next command.

Although he seemed stern, Ko extended his hands for Jira to hold. Their eyes met just before Jira submerged himself. He tried to keep his eyes open and hold Ko’s hands while breathing, but as it was his first time, he failed and quickly surfaced.

Fear surged through him. He wasn’t wrong to consider himself weak. “I’ll try tomorrow. I can’t do it today.”
He tried to escape the pool, but Ko stopped him, grabbing his wrist. A new order echoed in his ears: “No complaints. Keep practicing.”

“I can’t breathe! It’s too hard,” Jira protested.

Ko held both of Jira’s shoulders, keeping him steady. He ran one hand gently down his back to calm him and spoke in a calm, persuasive voice: “I have a trick so you can hold your breath longer underwater. You won’t have to worry.”

“What trick?” “Just look at me.”

“Only idiots say things like that,” Jira muttered, irritated-but what annoyed him most was the rapid beating of his heart. A rush of emotions coursed through him, and his face flushed.

“I’m serious. If you want to learn fast, try it. Can you open your eyes underwater?” “I think so…”
“Good. Just breathe as we practiced on the surface.”

Without overthinking, Jira nodded, slightly dazed. Ko seized the opportunity, placing both hands on his shoulders and speaking gently:

“Good. Just do it like we practiced breathing on the surface.”

It didn’t take long for him to decide. Finally, he had to nod, accepting it in a somewhat confused way.

Seizing the moment, Ko slid his hands from Jira’s shoulders to hold his face, redirecting his attention. It seemed to work, as Jira began to relax the hands he had been clenching. Then, the taller man leaned closer, and they locked eyes, holding that connection as if time itself had paused.

Some bubbles floated to the surface. Hair swayed with the water’s movement, but at that moment, nothing was more important-or captivating-than the handsome face in front of him.

It was impossible to say how long they stayed in that unusual position. For Jira… any trace of fear in his heart had vanished. He didn’t resist or show any opposition. Instead, he felt a mix of trust and a tingling excitement.

Perhaps it was the cold water of the pool, the eyes he barely kept open, or the thumb brushing his cheek, giving him a light tickle. All of it triggered a reaction that even surprised Jira, something his rational mind knew he shouldn’t feel. Finally, he regained his composure and was the one to pull away quickly.

The fragile body surfaced, gasping for oxygen. Then, he clumsily climbed to the edge of the pool, still sensing the hoarse voice calling after him, confused.

“Hey! We’re not done practicing, where are you going so fast?” “I’m leaving!”
“Come back here right now!”

But it was too late. Jira bolted toward the gym’s common bathroom without looking back. As soon as the door closed, his heart raced so fast it felt like it might burst from his chest, while he looked down at himself, still in his swimsuit.

Something unexpected had erupted suddenly. He hadn’t had time to control himself or prepare, and… suddenly, that part of him had hardened, forcing him to curse internally.

“Damn it, getting like this over something like this!”

…

Jira didn’t return directly to his room. Instead, carrying his unease, he decided to go to the studio of a close friend in the Songwat area.

“Phi, the client wants us to install it this way, but I’m a bit worried about the lighting. I’m afraid the outside light might be too strong.”

Ing was busy supervising workers installing three projectors at once for a cowboy short film projection. A technician stood by, making sure everything was in order.

“If we turn off the lights, it should help a lot. But let me find something to darken the room more,” said the technician.

“Thanks, Phi.”

Jira walked slowly into the exhibition space, not stopping to greet or chat. “Where are you coming from in such a hurry? Finished all your work already?”
“You do more than me, and I don’t complain. I do it for money, we know that, right?” “But you said your job doesn’t pay much, right?”
“Do you know the word ‘passion’?” Jira made a frustrated face before asking his best friend for a moment to talk about something urgent-the main reason he had come.

“Do you have a moment? I’m stressed, I need advice.” “Of course, tell me.”
Ing led Jira to a backless bench in the center of the room. She sat beside him in the empty space.

“It… got hard.”

“What the…?” The girl didn’t finish, stunned, trying to organize her questions to understand the cause.

“If it got hard, solve it. Why are you telling me?” “I fixed it, but I want to understand the problem.” “Tell me.”
“This morning I went swimming with that guy Ko…” After that, he recounted scene by scene what had happened in the pool. Since they were very close, he didn’t hide any details.

Ing, listening, grew increasingly serious as the story progressed, until she finally gave her opinion:

“If it got hard suddenly, it’s because of that guy, Ko. You like him.”

“That’s not true, it’s not like… it’s not that! I couldn’t handle it, it would be a disaster.” “No other reason, right? Bad boys always attract you.”
“He doesn’t look that bad… let me think, damn it…”

If analyzing his personal situation, of course, a nerdy, charming guy like him had an advantage. Yet, many times, just when things seemed fine, an obstacle would always appear.

“So… are you closer now?” Ing asked curiously.

“Yes, a little closer. But, damn, Ko is always calling or texting me, and then I have to run to him.”

“Ugh, please! The choice is yours, you decide to submit to him.” “I have to, I already made a deal.”
“You always find excuses, don’t you? Keep it up, and careful… one day it’ll end…” Ing began to joke, clapping slowly and chanting: “Together, together, together!” “Stop! Can you be serious again, please? I want real advice, not jokes.”
Jira scolded her, and Ing shrugged, ceasing her teasing.

“Seriously, feeling like this or finding inspiration for your work because of him isn’t unusual, my friend,” she said, quickly shifting to a serious tone that surprised Jira.

“Many muses don’t need to have a relationship with the artist. Other artists have girlfriends, and their girlfriends aren’t always their muse. Look at Renaissance artists. Their muses could be anything: a beautiful woman, a princess, a young man-anyone, with no physical relationship needed. You just have to separate work from feelings. Ko can be just part of your work, and love can be something else entirely.”

“Is that really possible?”

“Look at Phi Oat’s work. That project only happened because of his relationship with his father. Not everything has to be romantic,” Ing said, pointing to the screen where the short film was still playing.

Jira fell silent. He hadn’t considered that at all.

“You might not realize it now. Even if you say you like Pheem, every time I see Ko in your gaze… there’s something special.”

“Sometimes the meeting between two people happens too soon to understand what you feel. You just know that at first, you liked Pheem… and Ko, on the other hand, annoyed you. So if you’re going to hold on to something, let it be your first impression.”

“That’s not true. I don’t want to fall for someone like Ko.”

“Alright, alright. If you say you like Pheem and your heart is so set on him, try to find aspects of him that can inspire you instead of Ko,” Ing suggested. Her idea didn’t sound bad at all.

Until now, he had used Ko as a model for his creations, but it never occurred to him to ask Pheem to be his model even once. Perhaps if he tried, the results could even be better.

“Thanks a lot. I’ll try, and I’ll ask him.”

“Then why are you telling me? Go and tell him yourself.”

Jira let out a heavy sigh before saying goodbye. Every step from leaving the studio to taking transportation back to his room, he couldn’t get Ko’s face out of his head.

…

Pheem’s long legs carried him down the hallway toward the penthouse. He barely paused to ring the bell; he simply swiped the access card and pushed the door open.

From a distance, he could see his close friend sitting in front of the computer screen-a scene he was more than used to. Pheem approached and flopped onto the sofa, crossing his legs, without bothering to greet or ask how he was.

“Have you eaten yet?”

“Not yet. And you? Finished everything?” Ko replied quickly, only to get a sharp retort. “No.”
“Idiot.”

“I heard you went swimming this morning. What were you thinking?”

“Thinking about firing everyone in your department,” Ko responded, a reply so exasperating that Pheem shot him a glare without saying a word.

Ko pretended not to care and continued: “Better get to the point. Don’t beat around the bush.”

Pheem’s attitude relaxed slightly. He leaned back on the sofa, arm resting on the backrest.

“You must have received NECTEC’s email about the Khao app. I’ve arranged for someone to collect the award on your behalf,” Ko said.

Mawin had been chosen. As a friend and mediator, he did everything possible to reconcile the situation between them. Although Ko agreed to let the people in his department stay a

little longer, Mawin didn’t have much patience. Knowing they would soon be fired, he began seeking new opportunities as backup, including building connections in the same industry.

“And who are you going to send? Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” “Damn it, you normally never ask.”
“No need to send anyone. Those awards aren’t that important. Just write a thank-you letter as usual, and that’s it,” Ko said, frustrated, because every time he tried to convince Jira to do something, he rejected it immediately.

“Maintaining good relations doesn’t hurt. Organizations like NECTEC are full of important people. If a problem arises, we could ask them for help.”

“Do you really think they’d help us when the time comes?”

“Send someone, friend. This app is your last big achievement. We need good publicity before you do something unexpected again in the future.”

Getting to this point wasn’t easy. He couldn’t deny that the methods used weren’t entirely clean, and Ko still carried the consequences. After hearing his friend’s advice, he reflected again, and a sudden idea crossed his mind. His perfectly shaped lips curved into a smile.

“Fine, I’ll accept collecting the award. Cancel the person you were going to send instead.” “I don’t understand. If I cancel, who will go?”
“I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”

They stared at each other as the room filled with tense silence before Ko spoke again, breaking the quiet.

“Now that we’re done with the D&R topic, what about the images I asked for? Who’s going to take them?”

“I already told you I’ll do it myself.”

“What’s wrong with filming it yourself? I asked last week, and you still haven’t given me anything. That’s why they’re rushing me again.”

“And where do you want me to film?”

“At the Research and Development Department. That way, we can know which equipment to move and from which angle. We need to adjust the cameras to capture facial expressions and haptic responses.”

“Do whatever you want.”

Ko barely paused to think. Even better, someone else could handle it. After giving his permission, his attractive face returned to the computer screen, still processing his work.

Meanwhile, Pheem, seeing his close friend’s attitude, sighed. He took out his mobile phone and started taking photos from every angle of the room, preparing for an important upcoming project. Something that would make them grow but could also bring a little chaos in the near future…

“Come see me at two in the afternoon. I have an important job for you.”

The message, sent from a profile with a John Wick picture, arrived as a notification in the middle of the night. Jira read it and quickly responded, accepting the job.

The next day, he showered, dressed, and headed to the hotel where he had been summoned. This time, instead of receiving instructions to go up to a room, the butler waited for him in the lobby to take him to the parking area.

A tall man stood by a black Maserati, checking his wristwatch. Jira immediately knew he was late again.

“You don’t look well. Sorry for being late.” “No, it’s not that. I couldn’t sleep last night.”
“Again?” Jira began to suspect that his presence really helped Ko sleep better.

“From now on, you’ll have to stay with me more often so I can sleep well and be in a better mood. That also affects the work we do together.”

Jira made a disgusted face. No way was he staying over!

“If you’re in a bad mood, tell me now. What do you want me to do today?” He quickly changed the subject, not wanting to provoke someone who hadn’t slept well, fearing that the one facing a storm wouldn’t be the butler, but himself.

Ko tossed him the car keys, and Jira caught them, confused.

“You said you knew how to drive,” the tall man said, and the other nodded hesitantly. “Yes, but I don’t have a car.”
“Then try practicing with this.”

“Let me ask something-why don’t you hire a professional driver? Being ‘Mr. K,’ you could afford one, right?”

“No, I’m too lazy to deal with that many people. Since I hired you to work, you might as well take on this role too.”

“My responsibilities just keep growing. Where is this going to end?”

“Isn’t it fine? The more time you spend with me, the more money you’ll make.” “I’ve already spent almost twenty-four hours with you. It’s too much.”

“Well, if at any point you can’t or have a reason, just tell me, and I’ll reconsider.”

Ko narrowed his eyes, studying Jira’s attitude, knowing full well the younger man wouldn’t speak honestly. Anticipating this, he cut him off with his words. Jira, for his part, was caught in a dilemma: he couldn’t admit that he had secretly planned to meet his friend before being interrupted. So he chose not to argue and accepted the new task without protest.

“Alright, if something personal comes up, I’ll let you know.”

“Fine,” Ko replied, opening the driver’s side door before giving an order. “Get in… adjust the seat, make yourself comfortable.”

Jira obeyed, sliding into the car and clumsily adjusting the seat, testing Ko’s patience. Ko leaned in to help, and his attractive face came so close that Jira didn’t know how to react. He felt noticeably nervous, only breathing normally once the tall man circled to the passenger seat and sat down.

“Start the engine and try driving around the parking lot,” Ko said, giving instructions from beside him.

“Alright.”

Jira started the engine, shifted into gear, and the wheels began to roll. At first, he seemed to handle it well, but as he approached a curve, he kept braking and accelerating intermittently.

“There’s nothing in front of you-why are you braking so much?” “I-I’m nervous! Don’t you understand what it’s like to be tense?”
Just inspecting the car earlier and discovering its exorbitant price had terrified Jira. Now having to drive it himself made the fear even worse. If he accidentally hit anything, even with insurance, he wasn’t sure Ko wouldn’t make him pay. Not even his six-figure salary would cover the repairs.

“Don’t be afraid. If you’re about to crash, the car brakes automatically-it has a smart braking system. That’s why I told you to practice until you’re comfortable,” Ko said.

Jira swallowed hard, focusing on driving, but the results were still unsatisfactory. Ko’s piercing eyes didn’t blink once. He couldn’t move forward without feeling the pressure, and he feared grazing a post on curves. Ten minutes later, Jira was driving while holding his breath, on the verge of fainting.

“Try backing up. Park here-this car is easier than the usual ones you’ve driven,” Ko instructed. Pressured and impulsive from discomfort, Jira attempted it anyway. He managed to park, albeit crookedly. Ko didn’t miss it: “I think you could do it well if you tried. Tell me, what’s the problem?”

“The problem is you, sitting there next to me. Can you stop looking at me like that? I can’t even breathe!”

“Stop complaining and drive. That’s how you’ll get used to it.”

“If I become an expert at this, does it mean you won’t call me every time you want to go somewhere? That’d be a relief!”

“If it’s one in the morning and I want to go out, you’ll come.” “So you won’t let me sleep or rest?”
“If you’re tired, come sleep in my room.”

“What’s wrong with you? Do you suddenly want me around all the time or what?” “Learn to drive-and do it well. I care about this car a lot.”
“Then let me rest for five minutes.” “Learn to drive.”
“Three minutes, then.” “Learn to drive.”
“I want to open the window.” “Learn to drive.”
Ko ignored him, wearing an indifferent expression. Frustrated at being controlled unilaterally, Jira gathered the courage to suddenly accelerate, ready to risk it.

The moment the car almost hit the parking wall, the automatic braking system kicked in perfectly. The abrupt stop caused the car to jerk forward, sending Ko’s head forward.

Jira turned with a defiant look. The tall man opened the door and circled to help the younger one out of the seat.

“Did you do that on purpose to challenge me?”

“No, I just wanted to test the smart braking system. So, do you want me to keep practicing or not?”

“Forget it. From now on, I’ll drive.”

Ko had probably underestimated Jira. Until now, he had given orders to many people, and all obeyed without problem. With this one, it was clearly different. Of course, Ko could fire someone and replace them-but for some reason, he let this hard-to-control person stay.

Maybe it was a kind of challenge, something he had never experienced before. Jira was someone who made him feel anger, dissatisfaction, and provocation, yet strangely, also the only person who could calm his mind and let him sleep deeply.

“That’s it, then. Drive that damn car.”

“Alright, but every time I call, you’ll have to come with me in the car.” “Hey!”
The younger man opened his mouth to protest, but Ko cut him off, leaving him speechless. “I’ll let you draw again if you finish this job.”
“Really? What job?” Jira’s big eyes sparkled.

“Go collect the Honorary Developer award at the NECTEC event.” The tall man picked up a suit hanging in the back of the car. “We have to leave for the event now. Change in the car.”

“You bought the award or what?” “This award can’t be bought.”
Jira nodded with a mischievous smile, sliding to the back seat to change clothes. “Alright, I’ll do my best on this job, then.”
“This is serious work. No mistakes allowed-if it fails, you’ll be responsible.” “And then…”
Ko closed the car door, cutting the conversation short. The young man was already getting used to this harsh, curt attitude. He always behaved mysteriously, and every job was a challenge that forced him into unexpected situations.

But in exchange for the chance to work on his own artistic projects, there was no other answer but to accept and push forward together.

…

His friend was deeply asleep in bed, wearing only boxers, when he was startled by the apartment door opening. Mawin barged in. The young man jumped up, hair disheveled, glaring at the intruder in worn-out clothes.

“I was sleeping! What the hell are you doing coming in like this?”

“It’s three in the afternoon, and you’re in a bad mood? You didn’t close the deal with the person you were talking to last night, and now you’re taking it out on me.”

Mawin’s words hit his friend right in the weak spot. The plan from the previous night had been a disaster-letting Jira slip away-and now everything he saw just put him in a bad mood.

“Idiot.”

“Alright, I won’t interfere, but lend me a suit. I have a job interview today.”

Mawin approached the bed and grabbed the collar of his friend’s shirt, shaking him to make him get up.

“Come on, pick me a sharp suit, quickly!”

With no choice, his friend climbed out of bed and followed Mawin to the wardrobe. He opened the doors and ran his hand over the long-sleeved shirts hanging there while resuming the question that had hung in the air.

“And what kind of interview is it? Are there IT jobs open now? I thought there weren’t many vacancies.”

“I’m going to an interview with a Content Analytics company.” “And what’s that?”
“Analyzing audience behavior. They research viewer statistics-what people like, what kind of movies or series need to be produced to succeed.”

His friend picked a shirt and held it against Mawin’s body. He judged it, but seeing it wasn’t right, he hung it back in its place.

“And you know about movies?”

“Not much, but I know data and statistics.”

“But if you’re a programmer, shouldn’t you be writing code?” “I’m a fast learner. You can pick up this kind of thing on the go.”
Mawin grabbed another shirt and tried it on. This one seemed perfect, so he handed it to his friend. Then he searched for pants, still murmuring and talking with him.

“Wouldn’t they prefer someone specialized in this?”

“Can’t you give me a little support, man? Friends are supposed to back each other up-say something!”

“Say what? Isn’t lending you the suit enough?” His friend got up and grabbed a pair of pants, handing them over.

“Try them on.”

Mawin wasted no time. He pulled on the pants, then took off the T-shirt to put on the shirt, buttoning it while his friend silently watched to make sure everything looked right.

“How do I look?”

“You’re usually very confident. Why are you asking me now?”

“Well, sometimes you step out of your comfort zone and need a little help,” Mawin said.

His friend’s attractive face twisted in annoyance, but he still went over to the table, grabbed some perfume, and sprayed it on Mawin for a confidence boost.

“Is this the same perfume you wore when you got rejected before? Do you want me to get rejected at work too?”

His friend lifted his foot, ready to kick, but Mawin reacted quickly, raising his hands in surrender. He backed up slowly toward the door, and just as it was about to close, his friend spoke words of encouragement-exactly what Mawin had always wanted to hear.

“Hope today’s your day.”

Mawin nodded, grabbed his backpack, and left the room.

…

The Convention Hall was the designated venue for the NECTEC award ceremony, an event that gathered the country’s top tech professionals in one day. Plenty of cars arrived, parking in front of the hall.

Seeing the crowd and the number of vehicles, Ko put on sunglasses. Anxiety and discomfort began to rise in his chest. When the Maserati stopped in the drop-off area, a security guard approached to assist. Ko handed Jira an earpiece.

“When you’re done, come down. I’ll guide you through this.” “What? You’re not coming down with me?”
“I’ll wait in the parking lot. Go, hurry.”

“You seem scared. Why? Do you have many enemies or something?” “Let’s just say yes… quite a few.”
Jira went silent. He put on the earpiece and took a menthol inhaler to steady himself. Seeing him hesitate so much, Ko grew irritated and snatched the inhaler from his hand, tossing it into the back seat.

“Stop sniffing that.”

Though annoyed, Jira decided not to argue. He got out of the car and walked toward the event, a mix of excitement and nerves buzzing through him. Meanwhile, Ko drove straight to the parking lot.

Jira hesitated as he approached the registration desk. “Korawit Kitivela, from Hive Tech,” he introduced himself.

“Oh, Khun Korawit! Please wait a moment; we’ll inform the team. Would you like something to drink while you wait?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you.”

The staff seemed surprised by his presence. Probably because few people had seen Ko in person, his arrival caused a stir. Jira wasn’t even sure if his image matched what people imagined of a tech professional-but in any case, he was fulfilling his role as Korawit Kitivela.

He scanned the guests to calm his nerves. To relax, he went to the drinks area, grabbed a glass of champagne, and drank it in one gulp. At that moment, a staff member approached to introduce themselves.

“Hello, Khun Ko, it’s an honor to have you here!” “The pleasure is mine,” Jira replied.
“Please, come into the reception hall.”

Staff guided Jira inside a room to prepare for the ceremony. As one of the awardees, he received special treatment. Still, he remained nervous, talking to Ko through the earpiece to steady himself. When Ko finally responded, Jira felt a bit relieved.

Half an hour later, he was invited to move from the reception hall to the backstage area. A large crowd watched attentively in front of him. The young man clenched his fists to steady himself. A voice rang through the microphone, capturing everyone’s attention.

“We’ve reached the most important award of the night.”

Lights illuminated a graphic screen showing the words Honorary Award. Everyone applauded as a presentation played. The room fell into expectant silence, broken only by the narrator’s voice over the speakers.

“Khao, an augmented reality photography app for farmers, helps bridge distances, allowing farmers to consult about crop diseases or look for information on various pests and solutions-simply by taking a photo and sending it through the app’s chatbot.”

Jira couldn’t believe that someone like Ko had created something so impactful. He reflected quietly, unable to imagine Ko doing something beneficial for society, since everything he had experienced from him seemed the complete opposite.

“Khun Korawit, the team is thrilled to know you came to receive the award in person,” a voice brought him back to the present. Jira nodded with a slightly awkward smile.

“Can I take a photo with you?”

Before he could answer, Ko’s deep voice interrupted through the earpiece: [No. Refuse it.]

“Uh… sorry, I’m not very comfortable with that. I don’t like appearing in media much,” Jira explained.

“I understand,” the person replied kindly.

The award ceremony continued, while Jira barely stayed still.

“The Khao app has benefited countless people and is continuously updated, providing reliable support for farmers and botanists.”

“That doesn’t seem like something you’d do at all,” Jira muttered into the earpiece. [Old work, no need to praise it.]
Ko’s voice echoed through the earpiece again. Jira grimaced, feeling thoroughly irritated.

“And the Honorary Developer of the Year award goes to Khun Korawit Kitivela, for the Khao app,” announced the host, followed by thunderous applause. Once the announcement ended, the voice continued through the microphone: “And today, Khun Korawit Kitivela has honored us with his presence to collect the award in person.”

The ceremony concluded, but Jira was still confused. He received the signal from the team to step onto the stage. The thin young man used that brief moment to compose himself and accept the award.

Camera flashes blinded him, making his eyes water. The trophy was handed over quickly before he reached the podium, waiting for instructions from the true owner of the award.

Inside the luxurious car, the tall, lean man was inhaling Jira’s menthol through the earpiece. His ears were connected to the person at the event. In reality, today’s plan was simple: give a brief thank-you and order Jira off the stage. But then, an idea struck.

It was sudden, and Ko took the opportunity to address everyone using Jira’s identity and voice.

[Thank you for this award. At first, I developed the app just as a university project, without expecting it to bring so much benefit. It’s a great honor.]

Jira repeated the words in the tone Ko wanted to convey. As the applause swelled and then died down, Ko continued:

[But the main reason I’m here today isn’t just to collect the award.]

Jira’s clear voice followed the instructions, though he didn’t understand the other’s intent. All eyes in the hall widened in surprise.
[I want to announce here that, due to limited resources, I will halt the development of the Khao app. All resources will be redirected to a new technology that will benefit everyone, to a greater or lesser extent.]

[All of you here are leaders in the IT industry, so I’ll be direct. I know there are rumors about me, about my transparency.]

Ko’s thoughts flowed freely. He remained calm inside the car, while the person on stage grew increasingly uneasy. Jira couldn’t predict what surprise Ko would spring next, but now that he was representing the role, there was no turning back.

[That’s why I want to announce a new project I will use to reinvent myself: the Hivemind project-a brilliant project that aids in design, though it’s currently dealing with copyright issues.]

[I’m fully aware that intellectual property is a delicate matter, especially legally, but I believe that with everyone’s ability to code, we can create something new that overcomes the problem ethically and humanely.]

The words flowed one after another, and the audience listened attentively.

Jira felt like the protagonist of a movie, though he wasn’t sure if he was the hero or the villain.

[This project, for me, is not just an app or software. It’s the future. The future for all of us. I promise to care for everyone who decides to walk this path with me.]

Just as Jira delivered Ko’s message from start to finish, something struck him suddenly.

A strange liquid splashed over his clothes, soaking them completely. Some even hit his face and hair. Jira was stunned, disoriented, unsure what it was-only that it was yellow and had such a strong smell it burned his nose.

He remained standing in the middle of the stage as murmurs from the audience grew. Then one voice rose above them all, shouting:

“You’re a fraud! You speak beautifully, but then betray as if nothing, like everything is trash!” It was Mawin.
He had claimed he was going to a job interview, but it had all been a lie. Learning that Kirawit would collect the award in person, he had dragged himself to the event just to vent all his anger. Mawin had nothing to lose. Everything he did was pure release.

Jira was shocked to be insulted publicly. He froze on stage, trapped in confusion. The lights illuminating him made everything around him blur.

Then Ko’s urgent voice rang in his ear through the earpiece, giving an order. [Get down from there.]
But Jira didn’t move, so the voice shouted again: [Jira, I said get down!]

Luckily, the staff acted quickly, rushing to him and safely escorting him off the stage. They apologized profusely for the unexpected incident, but at that moment, the young man couldn’t accept congratulations or feelings of guilt.

“Better take off those clothes first. We’ll bring you something to change into soon.” “No need, I think it’s just… uh, urine. It will wash off. I don’t want to worry anyone.” [Back to the car.]
Ko’s order came again. This time, Jira excused himself and exited via the back of the stage, grabbing a nearby water bottle and heading straight to the parking lot as Ko guided him all the way.

Reaching the car, he twisted the bottle cap and poured water over himself, but it wasn’t enough to eliminate the smell.

Ko got out, took the award from Jira’s hands, and tossed it into the back seat. Then he turned to the other, who was fuming.

“Damn bad luck.”

The observer softened. Ko spoke in a gentler tone, pitying Jira’s disheveled state. “I didn’t expect this to happen.”
“Who are you really? Tell me now. Am I going to deal with attacks like this all the time?” “I understand you’re angry, but it’s part of the job, isn’t it?”
“Really? I got peed on, man. Next time it’ll be worse? Should we add a clause in the contract warning about assaults?”

A flurry of coarse insults poured at Ko, but he didn’t get angry. Instead, he used a calm approach, speaking softly.

“It’s my fault. Get in the car.” “What?”
“Get in the car.”

“Today I don’t want to see your face anymore. And you probably don’t want to smell urine either. Better we separate.”

Jira made a move to leave, but Ko quickly opened the driver’s side door, grabbed his slender wrist, and pressed his shoulder so he would sit. Then he leaned over to buckle his seatbelt without showing any repulsion. Everything happened so fast that Jira couldn’t resist. He hadn’t even adjusted his emotions.

“Where do you live? I’ll take you.”

“Tell me the address.”

The previous anger vanished quickly, as if Ko had a special talent for making him feel that way.

“Uh… you drive first, I’ll tell you.”

The tall man nodded in understanding, circled the car, and sat in the driver’s seat.

The luxury car pulled out of the parking lot onto the main road as if it were an everyday occurrence. Yet a tangle of questions swirled in Jira’s mind.

After the chaos in the car, silence filled the leather seats like a gentle breeze. He hadn’t even touched anything, yet everything was spotless. It was hard to believe the exhaust could handle so much.

“Didn’t you say you loved your car? Why let me drive?” “Yes, I love it. But it’s not that important.”
Jira heard him but remained confused. He pretended to be annoyed, frowning. “I’ll roll down the window to get some air.”
He pressed the button and the window descended. The fresh outside air hit his face, relieving some discomfort.

The thin young man glanced at the street for a moment, then took advantage of Ko being focused on the road to turn and study his face. He stared, searching for some answer.

But in the end, he found none-just the pounding of his heart, threatening to burst from his chest. It beat stronger than when he went on stage to receive the award. Stronger than when he stood frozen, a target for what was thrown at him.

Only this time… he realized he was more important than anything else in the world.