Rule No. 1: Don’t be too emotional : Chapter 46

“Put on your red shoes, and dance the blues”

David Bowie

Once upon a time, long ago, there lived a poor girl named Karen. She lived with her mother, who loved her dearly. Pitying her daughter for not having nice things like others, the mother painstakingly sewed a pair of red shoes for her. Tragically, the mother passed away from a fever while Karen was still a child. Instead of mourning her mother with gratitude, Karen became obsessed with the red shoes-even wearing them to her mother’s funeral. Now an orphan, Karen attracted the attention of a kind, elderly noblewoman who happened to drive by. The lady took her in, but she despised the red shoes, deeming them inappropriate for church, and forbade Karen from wearing them. Karen, however, continued to sneak into them. One day, she asked an old soldier to polish them. He warned her again that they were unfit for the house of God, but Karen only mocked him. The old soldier then cursed her: “May you wear your red shoes and dance until you die.” It was a curse. When she put them on again, Karen lost control of her feet. She danced endlessly, without rest, until in her agony, she begged an executioner to cut off her feet. ···

I stood there, paralyzed and numb. I wanted to believe it was just a nightmare, but the reality was cold and undeniable. I took a deep breath, my senses snapping back into my body, and screamed: “What the hell are you doing, Jean!” I didn’t even waste time turning my fury toward P’Jane. I knew him; he never forced anyone.

He was simply doing his “job,” fulfilling his “duty.” I had moved past blaming him a long time ago. Even though it hurt to see this happening to a member of my own family, the one who deserved the harshest rebuke right now was Jean. My sister must have intercepted him on his way to find me. The real questions were: how did she find out that P’Jane was a man who could grant any wish?

And what exactly had she asked of him? I lunged toward Jean, pushing her back until she tumbled onto the bed. P’Jane rose from his chair the moment he saw the violence escalating.

“Do you even realize what you’ve done?” I barked at her.

“I know, and I’m confident in what I did. I’m not scared, and I’m definitely not apologizing.”

“Jean, do you really think getting things easily like this will last? Especially using a shortcut like this. I know everyone has things they want to achieve, but before you dream big, you have to look at your own potential. How can you ever be proud of a dream you got through dirty methods?” Jean climbed off the bed, facing me without a hint of fear. Her voice was loud and clear.

“If you wouldn’t be proud, that’s your problem. But I definitely will be. Your mindset is outdated, P. This is a competitive world. It’s ‘first come, first served, ‘ and if you can grab more, you grab it. Who cares if you cheat? Winning is all that matters. People only care about the results. If you want to keep chasing your dream of being a novelist with no sign of success through ‘honest and transparent’ ways, that’s your business.”

“Jean!”

“Jean is going to be the person everyone in class is jealous of! No, the whole world! People all over the globe will be screaming for me, giving me love just like those Thai kids who debuted before.”

“And do you have as much talent as them? Have you even looked at yourself? You know deep down what you’re really like.”

“Don’t talk to me like that!” Jean screamed, refusing to listen.

“Jean, the point isn’t just that you made a request to P’Jane. Do you realize you have to pay him back? There’s no such thing as a free lunch. I’ve told you before, haven’t I? You’re going to regret this. I’ve seen it with my own eyes many times. And someone like P’Jane… ” I pointed at the tall man.

“He doesn’t ask for easy, cheap things. Have you thought about what he’ll demand? And will you be able to give it back?”

“I know, and I’m not afraid. I’m ready to trade anything just to be a trainee once in my life. What I asked for is just my dream-a dream everyone keeps opposing. You should consider me a ‘good person’ for this, because otherwise, I would have asked for Dad to just disappear. I’m sick of him constantly scolding me!”

“Do you even hear what you’re saying?! You want Dad to die?!” I had never been this blind with rage at Jean before. She was beyond saving. I shoved her back onto the bed and berated her harshly.

“You’re vile! I never thought you’d be this mindless. Do you even realize that the house you live in and the three meals you eat are because Dad worked hard before you were even born? He raised you the best he could. And this is how his only daughter thinks of repaying him?!”

“Did I ask to be born? Since they brought me into the world, they have to take responsibility! Dad and Mom are the ones who failed because they brought me here but can’t satisfy my needs. If they couldn’t make me equal to others, it would have been better if they never gave me life at all!”

“Are you even human?!” I was livid. I lunged forward, wanting to squeeze her neck to satisfy my fury. P’Jane jumped in to block me, holding me back with all the strength he had.

“Jane, don’t. Jane.”

“Let me go, P’Jane! I’m going to kill this ungrateful, brainless kid!”

“If you want to blame someone for me asking P’Jane, you should blame yourself!” Jean shrieked.

“What more nonsense are you talking?!” I yelled back.

“You’re the one who brought P’Jane into this house years ago. And I only knew he was someone who could grant any wish because of you!”

“What are-”

“That day Dad scolded me, P’Jet came up to comfort me and told me to go apologize to Dad in his room. I was about to go in, but l heard you and Mom talking. You mentioned you got a job looking after P’Jane’s younger brother, and Mom said, ‘So there really are people who can give anything you ask for.’ I’ve thought about it since that day-that I had to get to P’Jane. I even thought about faking a visit to your house but never got the chance. Until he came to visit you while you were sick today. If you want to blame anyone, blame yourself first!” I screamed profanities at Jean that I never thought I’d use on my only sister. My feelings for her changed completely. She was no longer a cute little sister in my eyes. I used to think she was just a stubborn teenager, but now she was delusional, narcissistic, and possessed a twisted mindset that couldn’t be straightened out. I wanted to slap her once to make her realize what she had done, but I couldn’t because P’Jane was holding me back with all his might. If even I, just a brother, felt this heartbroken hearing those words, how much would it hurt Mom and Dad?

“A person like you… ‘ vile’ is an understatement!”

“P’!”

“Someone like you will never succeed. Ungrateful, lazy… there’s nothing about you that indicates success. I’ve never seen Dad’s predictions be wrong. Just you wait and see!”

“P! You dare curse me?! Take it back right now!”

“I won’t. You’ll never make it! It’s all a pipe dream!” Jean lunged to attack me. P’Jane had to restrain both of us. He yelled for us to stop until the noise acted like a siren, bringing the whole family running up in shock. Dad and Jet grabbed me, while Mom rushed to hold Jean. Dad roared: “Stop! Stop right now, Jane, Jean! I said stop! Aren’t you ashamed of fighting in front of a guest? Jane, you’re this old and you’re still brawling with your sister?” I finally stopped struggling. I shook everyone off and made a cold declaration while looking into my sister’s eyes-which were now showing a hint of nervousness as she faced the whole family.

“Since you said it yourself, take responsibility for what you do. And if things go to hell, you’re the one who brought the whole house down.” I stomped out of her room without looking back. I packed my things and drove back to the Palakorn house that night, leaving Jean with the disaster she created. No one stopped Dad when he landed a single, sharp slap across his youngest daughter’s face. By now, everyone knew Jean had made a deal with P’Jane. Jet, who never knew P’Jane’s background, found out this time as well, finally resolving many things he had been suspicious about. I still called Jet every day to check on the situation at home. He told me that even after several days, the atmosphere was still gloomy. No one talked or joked with Jean. Even Jet found it hard to take her side like he usually did. He felt, just like I did, that Jean was leading herself toward disaster. I didn’t say a word of blame to P’Jane. I continued to speak with him politely and normally. That probably surprised him, but he didn’t ask. I’m older now. As I said, I’ve been through it all-from thinking what he did was wrong and distancing myself, to resisting him, to finally yielding and realizing I was the one who went to him in the first place. Now I understand that he’s just doing his job. People come to ask, and he simply gives. As he once said: can he really be blamed when he never forced anyone? Everyone walked to him on their own. Even my sister. And in case anyone wonders, it didn’t make me love him any less. I accepted him for who he is. I made peace with the fact that he is just… Jane Patrick.

“Are you finished eating? I’ll help clear the table,” I said, seeing that P’Jane hadn’t touched the snacks or tea anymore, just silently reading the newspaper. He looked up from what he was doing and met my eyes. He closed the paper and set it down, staring deep into my gaze.

“You’re really not going to ask anything?”

“I’m not ‘okay’ with it, but fine, I’ll ask.”

“Go ahead.”

“What was Jean’s request, exactly? To become a world-famous K-Pop artist? Like Lisa from Blackpink?” P’Jane laughed softly. He used the tongs to drop a brown sugar cube into his hot tea, added milk, and took a sip.

“I can give anything, it’s true, but I don’t give things directly like that-unless they ask for a physical object. A star’s fame and the public’s adoration… who can determine that? You can push someone all you want, but if they have no luck, that’s it. What I give is opportunity. You know that well.” I thought back to Thee, the former president of our class club who asked to get an A in every subject. What P’Jane gave him was the username and password to see the exam papers, but he didn’t give the answers directly. Whether he decided to log in or not was entirely up to that person.

” Jean asked to get into the number one music label in Korea.” My heart skipped a beat.

I was certain I could guess which label it was, because there was one she was particularly obsessed with.

“And you can make that happen for her?”

“Something like that? It’s incredibly easy.” I suppose I should stop being amazed. He makes things much harder than this look as simple as a snap of his fingers.

“But if she gets into that company, she’ll definitely become famous,” I speculated. Even though that label was known for being experimental-sometimes with difficult music or ‘cringey’ concepts-every single one of their groups ended up exploding in popularity. The tall man gave a faint, knowing smile.

“Only heaven knows the answer to that. But then again, I don’t believe in heaven or hell.” The low chuckle in his throat gave me goosebumps. A sense of dread settled in my stomach, but it wasn’t something I could interfere with. He said simply, “You can clear the table now. I’m finished. I have a Zoom meeting with the board of directors soon. Tell the housekeepers not to disturb me.” “Yes, sir.” About twenty-six days passed. Life went on. P’Jane worked, I looked after Jamie, Jet buried himself in his medical studies, and my parents kept to their usual routines. Only Jean’s life had changed; she received an email inviting her to join a massive Korean music label without even having to audition. The email claimed they had ‘scouted’ her via TikTok, but everyone in our house knew exactly whose miracle this was. I felt uneasy thinking back to my conversation with P’Jane. He had said he only offered opportunities. I thought he’d just get her an audition. But getting her straight into the company? What did that mean? Perhaps he knew that even with an audition, her chances were slim, so he just skipped the line for her. Jean was vibrating with excitement. After nearly a month, the family finally started speaking to her again. Jet and Mom were almost back to normal, while Dad remained cold and curt. Jean didn’t seem to care; she was just happy she didn’t have to hear him nag. Eventually, Mom had to handle Jean’s school withdrawal. The school protested, pointing out she was in her final year and university entrance exams were approaching, but they ultimately had to approve it. Exactly one month after she asked P’Jane for the favor, Jean had her plane ticket to South Korea. I saw the power of a “shortcut” with my own eyes that day. Despite being the angriest at her, I still went to the airport to see her off with the rest of the family. It was awkward, but they shared a goodbye hug. Jean’s tears stained my shirt. I knew she still felt bad about our fight, but she was too stubborn to apologize. I couldn’t bring myself to say I fully forgave her-that would be a lie-so l just wished her luck.

“Siblings are siblings. You have to help each other. There are only three of you. Blood is thicker than water.” That was what Dad always taught us. It was the only reason my heart hadn’t completely hardened against her.

“Jamie! Come back here! You haven’t put your helmet on yet!” I shouted as Jamie, already in his hockey gear, tried to bolt toward the ice. He skated back to me. “Sorry, Lil’ Jane!”

“There. All set. Go ahead.” Jamie planted a kiss on both my cheeks before rushing off. In just a few months, his Thai had improved significantly. I felt a surge of pride; at least a part of that success was mine. I had taught him diligently, finding every trick to help him remember. P’Jane was satisfied enough to reduce his Thai lessons to three days a week. His speaking and listening were great-kids soak those up fast-but his reading and writing still needed work. Jamie wouldn’t speak much Thai with P’Jane, though. He seemed shy about his accent or afraid of being teased. Or maybe he just decided that since his brother was “American,” they should stick to English. With me, however, he spoke Thai boldly, and I never teased him when he tripped over his words. I watched Jamie in his cute hockey gear, gliding backward across the ice with impressive skill. Besides horseback riding, piano, and Thai, he had added ice hockey to his “high-society” activities. I didn’t even know they taught ice hockey in Thailand until I started looking after him. P’Jane wanted him to try every sport until he found what he loved most. Watching them, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy for “rich kids.” Wealth really does come with endless choices. When I was little, my only extracurriculars were Kumon and extra math because Dad knew they were practical.

I understood and never asked for more, but not all kids are like that. Look at Jean-she felt so suppressed and “less than” others that she turned out the way she did. Especially in the age of social media, where everyone flaunts their perfect lives, it’s hard not to compare. Since we’re all human, it’s easy for that heat to turn into envy. My heart sank a bit when I heard the coach barking orders at Jamie. I hate it when sports coaches use harsh methods. He’s only nine! l remembered when Jamie couldn’t balance on one skate yet; he fell over and over, crying in frustration. The coach didn’t help him up once. He made Jamie get up on his own, scolding him until Jamie, through tears, finally managed it. I guess that’s just how sports are.

I looked over at the older teens practicing. Ice hockey is brutal-players slamming into each other, some almost flying out of the rink. No wonder the coach told me Jamie needed to gain another three kilograms. I huddled into my coat, my nose a bit runny. Jamie was obsessed with the rink lately, so I was here almost every evening. It was freezing. Next time, I definitely need gloves. “Great job, Jamie! You’re the best! Whoo!” I cheered and clapped as he scored a goal. He turned and gave me a wide grin.

“If I scored a goal, would you cheer for me like that too?” “P’Jane?!”” I spun around at the voice right by my ear and slammed straight into a broad chest. P’Jane had a faint smile on his face as he reached out to steady me.

“Careful now.”“ Oh, sorry!”

“Falling into me like this… I might start thinking you’re flirting,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips as he arched an eyebrow at me. I was speechless, biting my lip hard. When I actually try to flirt, you don’t notice, but now you say this? Are you trying to make my heart race? P’Jane was in all black, as usual, though today he wore a black Louis Vuitton leather jacket. He’d told my parents he would be in mourning for Khunying Sakuna for a full year. I’d be seeing him as a “man in black” for a long time.

“Why did you come here?” I asked. “Work finished early, so I thought I’d stop by and see Jamie play some ice hockey. So, what do you think? Does he have a future in it?” “He’s great. Actually, I think he enjoys this much more than riding horses. Before long, he’ll probably ask you to let him quit the riding lessons.” P’Jane nodded as he watched his brother.” I was thinking the same thing.” I sneezed and quickly said, “Sorry.”

“Are you cold? Here, wear this,” P’Jane said, immediately taking off his leather jacket.

“Oh, no, it’s fine. I have my own coat.”

“Take it off and put mine on. Yours is too thin; it won’t hold up.”” Won’t you be cold?” “I wasn’t cold to begin with. And you know… I’m so freaking hot.” I pursed my lips as he said that, especially when he gave me another one of those single-eyebrow winks. I tried my hardest to suppress my expression so I wouldn’t groan in his ear out of a mix of annoyance and a strange kind of fondness. He’s still as confident as ever. Five years ago, he was like this, and he hasn’t changed a bit. I took off my coat and swapped it for the designer leather jacket. Wow, it’s so much warmer. Plus, it carried his scent. It smelled so good. “Hey, Pumpkin head! Show them what you got!” P’Jane shouted to his brother through cupped hands. Jamie seemed to tense up for a second seeing his brother on the sidelines, but it only made him more determined. The boy skated skillfully, weaving through opponents. P’Jane clapped loudly, his eyes shining with pride and happiness-looking just like a father watching his son.

“Did you ever play ice hockey, P’Jane?” “When I was a kid.”

“Were you good?”. He kept smiling, eyes on Jamie.

“Not really. I told you before, I’m not good at team sports.” “Oh, right.”

“The sports I’m best at are shooting, car racing, horseback riding, golf, and boxing.”” All solo sports.” “I’m a lone wolf, after all.” I made a face.

“You realize how dramatic that sounds, right?” He laughed softly, his eyes twinkling as he looked at my messy expression, before reaching out to pat my head. “Ow, that hurts!”

“You’re being dramatic, Jenalee.” “It really hurts,” I said, leaning my head toward him.

“Blow on it to make it better.”

“Now that is flirting.” My heart throbbed as I waited to see if he’d do it. Finally, I felt a cool breath blow against my hair. Ah, that felt so good. My heart felt like it was floating. Even though it was just cool air on my head, the coolness seeped all the way down to my heart.

“Better?””… I forgot.”” Still cold?”

“My hands are cold. See? They’re turning pale. I didn’t bring gloves.”

“I think I have some in the car. Let me go check.”

“No, wait.” I caught his arm as he turned. I slid my hand down and interlaced my fingers with his.

“Holding it like this makes it warmer.” “… ”

“Can I hold it?”

I looked at him with innocent eyes. P’Jane didn’t answer. He rested his other arm on the rink railing and stared at me-a gaze so intense it made me tremble. Since he didn’t accept or refuse, I felt awkward. “Okay, okay, I won’t hold it then.” But as I tried to pull away, he tightened his grip on my hand.

Eventually, our joined hands rested at our sides. I bit my lip, my face heating up as we moved a little closer. We hadn’t had a “vibe” like this since that day at my house.

“Jamie is playing well, isn’t he?” he said, as if talking about the weather.”… Yes.” Along with our hearts, beating in the same rhythm. After hockey, Jamie still had energy, so he went for a casual skate with friends. Since it was Friday, we let him stay late. P’Jane and I sat drinking coffee (hot cocoa for me). P’Jane asked about my sister, Jean. I told him she was training hard and that my parents had just sent her money. P’Jane’s expression went a bit weird-he had a tiny, fleeting smirk like he found something funny, but it vanished instantly. I worried aloud about Jean’s overconfidence. She had even convinced my parents to let her drop out of her final year of high school to go to Korea.

“So, in the end, your parents supported her,” P’Jane noted. “They never forbade it; they just wanted it to be a hobby because the future is uncertain. We aren’t rich enough to support everything.” P’Jane spoke calmly. “But many kids these days believe that since they were made to be born, the parents must provide everything. The idea of parental gratitude is becoming ‘outdated, ‘ isn’t it? You see it online-‘ I didn’t ask to be born, so don’t put your expectations on me.’ I’m not saying every kid is like that, but I see it a lot.” I felt a lot of emotions about that. I told him I found that mindset similar to Nazi ideology–that only certain people with specific qualities (like wealth) have the right to exist.

“Why is having a child only a right for the rich? Should parents be at fault just because they aren’t millionaires?” I poured out my frustrations about Jean’s attitude. I argued that while bad parents exist, mine were good, middle-class people who did their best. Jean’s entitlement-blaming them for not being rich enough to satisfy her every whim-felt wrong to me. “If you only look at what you lack, you’ll never see what you have,” I said.

“Parents who can support everything are great, but those who can’t aren’t worth less. Does a child have the right to demand their parents sacrifice everything until they have no place to sleep, just so the child can live in luxury? It sounds… bad.”

“The bottomless pit of human desire,” P’Jane said simply. “They promise anything to get what they want, but when it’s time to pay the price… well, I know that better than anyone. It’s too much when a kid expects parents to deliver success on a silver platter while they barely lift a finger.”

“That’s an interesting modern perspective,” P’Jane said, his voice neutral.

“Hmm… ” I replied. P’Jane smiled and said something that made my heart race again.” Jane, you still have such good thoughts.”

“I’ve never been disappointed in you once. You know that, right?” I scratched my head, not knowing how to reply. After a silence, he laughed. “But then again… if everyone thought like Jenalee-satisfied with what they have and not dreaming too high-how could a ‘God’ like Jane Patrick exist? I’d be out of a job.” I rolled my eyes.’ God’ Jane Patrick?

He survived death once and now he’s a God? We went grocery shopping. It was chaotic because Jamie was running everywhere. P’Jane finally used a “hard tactic” by buying a rope and tying Jamie’s belt loop to the grocery cart. Problem solved. We ran into my old friend Chassy and her boyfriend, Krem. Chassy was terrified at first-last time they met, P’Jane had nearly choked her for bothering me.

After I cleared things up, they were friendly. Chassy teased me, saying we looked like a “Happy Family” with a kid. She also noticed we were still wearing ou matching necklaces. As we drove home, the atmosphere was light. Jamie told us he had a crush at school, and P’Jane -ever the unconventional brother-told him to go for it.

“Maybe she doesn’t like me,” Jamie whispered .

“Whoever doesn’t like you back is missing out on the best thing in their lives,” P’Jane replied. Everything was normal. Until a massive THUD. We were rear-ended. Jamie’s ice cream flew onto the floor.

“Jamie, are you okay?!” P’Jane shouted. “I’m okay, JP,” the boy replied.

“What the hell!” P’Jane hissed. He unbuckled his seatbelt to get out, telling me to check the glove box for the insurance papers. But then, we were slammed again. And again. Three, four times. It wasn’t an accident. It was a deliberate attack. Jamie started crying, pale with fear. “P’Jane, what is this?! Don’t go out there!” Another car swerved alongside us and stopped. The window rolled down. I didn’t know the driver, but I recognized the man in the passenger seat perfectly. He was smiling at P’Jane with pure, burning hatred. He was the man from years ago. The one who led the police to chase us. The one P’Jane had shot in the leg. P’Dan.