Rule No. 1: Don’t be too emotional : Chapter 52

Fairy tales are more than true not because they tell us that dragons exist but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten

Neil Gaiman,

Coraline The story of “The Red Shoes” serves as a haunting metaphor for Jenalee own experience with obsession and the “forbidden” room. When it came time for the religious ceremony at the church, Karen always insisted on wearing her new red shoes, ignoring all warnings about their impropriety.

Soon, the shoes began to act strangely, moving on their own, though she could still take them off. One day, while her foster mother was ill, Karen wore them to a party. A mysterious soldier appeared and praised them as beautiful dancing shoes. Suddenly, the shoes began to dance uncontrollably. This time, she couldn’t take them off.

She danced through rain and sunshine, through fields and brambles that tore at her skin. She was in such agony she couldn’t even attend her foster mother’s funeral. An angel appeared with a sword, cursing her to dance forever as a warning to stubborn children. Karen begged for mercy, but the shoes whisked her away.

In desperation, she found an executioner and begged him to chop off her feet to free her. He did so, but the shoes continued to dance with her severed feet still inside them. He gave her wooden feet and crutches, teaching her a prisoner’s prayer. Karen tried to return to the church to be a good person, but her dancing shoes constantly blocked her path.

One Sunday, she stayed home alone and prayed for God’s help. The angel appeared again, surrounded by the scent of roses. Her heart was filled with light and peace; her soul flew to heaven, where no one ever mentioned the red shoes again. After that night, we shared many more moments in that room. If P’Jane liked it, I liked it too.

It was incredibly thrilling. The daytime, while Jamnie was at school, became our “golden hour.” I knew that if we kept this up, Jamie would eventually find out we were dating. We were inseparable now, a stark contrast to the distance we used to keep. Jamie is a smart kid-not a genius like his brother, but he isn’t oblivious.

I was worried about his reaction since he’s quite protective of me, but I believed that if we explained it properly, he’d understand. I wanted him to hear it from us, not from someone else whispering that our love would mean less attention for him. In fact, it was the opposite: because I loved P’Jane so much, I loved Jamie even more.

The day came sooner than expected. One Saturday afternoon, P’Jane gave me a look. I was confused at first, but then he said: “I think it’s time we told Jamie about us.” I was nervous, but I knew we couldn’t wait forever. After Jamie finished his art class, we sat down in his room. P’Jane emphasized that our relationship wouldn’t change our love for him one bit.

He even hugged Jamie and asked for a hug and a kiss on the cheek in return if he was okay with it. Jamie complied, looking like he understood perfectly. Then, he shrugged and said: “I always felt that you guys had a thing. Even Dad feels the same. Dad asked me to observe both of you and tell him everything.” P’Jane shouted, “What!?” He clearly didn’t realize his little brother was that sharp.

But Jamie isn’t a toddler anymore. It reminded me of the cool kid I met on day one. Interestingly, P’Jane didn’t seem surprised that Mr. Chuck Terry suspected us; he seemed to already know. I, however, was shocked. It explained why Mr. Chuck Terry always asked to talk to me during video calls, asking me to look after his sons and telling me stories about P’Jane’s childhood.

I used to be confused, but now it all made sense. The beautiful sound of a piano drifted from the room. I smiled as P’Jane played a classical piece. Jamie was lying on my lap, chatting away in Thai about his day at school. He had built a robot and watched a water rocket competition. He was so excited about his upcoming school camp.

His Thai has improved so much; he doesn’t have an accent anymore, even if his vocabulary is still simple.

“I want to quit horse riding,” Jamie complained.

“Have you asked P’JP yet?” Jamie looked annoyed.

“He won’t let me. He says I have to keep going for now.”

“I think he has his reasons. Try a bit longer, and if you still hate it, ask him again. He won’t force you forever.” Jamie nodded and started talking about a girl he liked at school who gave him a lollipop. I couldn’t help but smile. Ah, childhood. Such innocent love. I never had that; my Dad was so strict I didn’t have a “relationship” until the end of high school, and even that wasn’t real love like what I have with P’Jane.

“I’m so excited for school camp! I want to win a gold medal.”” You can do it! My Jamie is the best,” I said, pinching his cheek. Jamie nuzzled into my lap like a kitten.  “You smell so good, Lil’Jane.”

“You smell good too, and you’re the cutest.”

“Do you love me?”

“Of course! I love you the most.”

“Get out of Jane’s lap now, pumpkin head.” P’Jane had stopped playing the piano and appeared out of nowhere. He yanked Jamie up and tossed him to the other side of the sofa, then flopped down and put his own head on my lap.

“P’Jane! What are you doing?” I cried.

“I’m jealous of him.” Jamie rushed back, face red, trying to pull P’Jane off me.

“You get out of Lil’ Jane’s lap! That’s my place!” P’Jane sat up and pinned his brother’s head down.

” Who told you it’s your place?

It’s my place.”

“But Lil’ Jane is mine!”

“What? That’s a no-no. He’s mine.”

“He’s mine!” Jamie screamed.

“He’s mine!” P’Jane yelled back.

” He said he loves me!”

“But he loves me more.”

“No, he loves me more!”

“We’ve loved each other since you were just a jelly!”

“I belong to both of you!” I tried to intervene.

“No! You have to choose!” they both shouted at me. I slapped my forehead. This family is driving me crazy. P’Jane tossed Jamie onto the cushions again and made a smug face at him.

Jamie, now crying and red-faced, charged at P’Jane and kicked him right in the stomach.

“You wanna fight, pumpkin head? Bring it on!” P’Jane tackled him into a wrestling match. The maids came running to see the commotion, looking deeply awkward at the sight of a 32-year-old man brawling with a 9-year-old. I finally had enough.

“Enough! Enough! I said enough!” They both froze and looked at me. They were both a mess-hair wild, clothes wrinkled.

“I belong to myself, okay!?” I turned and walked away in a huff. Honestly, they were so immature. Especially P’Jane-he’s 32! I went to Jamie’s room to pack his bags. Fifteen minutes later, P’Jane wandered in, still looking disheveled.

“Where’s Jamie?”

“Watching cartoons.” I kept packing, but P’Jane stopped my hand.

“Stop. I want Jamie to pack for camp himself. If you do everything for him, he’ll never learn to take care of himself.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Let him try. Then you can check if he missed anything. That’s how he’ll learn.” He was right. P’Jane’s parenting style is very American-focused on independence. I’m more traditional Thai; I tend to pamper Jamie because I’m his nanny. P’Jane has warned me before that he won’t have Jamie being the kind of kid who needs an adult to follow him around with a spoon. If he’s stubborn and won’t eat, he stays hungry. It’s a tough lesson, but Jamie knows the rules.

“Don’t you have anything to ask me?” P’Jane asked.

“Yeah. I want to know why you’re so obsessed with teasing a nine-year-old. Do you enjoy seeing him upset?” He grinned wickedly.

“Maybe. It’s hilarious when he throws a tantrum.”

“You’re a psycho.”

“I’m also jealous that he’s always clinging to my boyfriend.”

“Jealous? Of a nine-year-old? You’re crazy.” He gave me a chillingly handsome, terrifying little smile.

“I’m very possessive, Jane. In case you didn’t know. If you make me too jealous, you’ll be the one begging for your life.” He wasn’t threatening my life; he was definitely talking about what happens in the bedroom. I blushed and looked away.

“Whatever. But being jealous of Jamie is too much.”

“Is it? What do you think about that time I dragged him out of your bedroom?”

“Oh my god. He’s only nine, old man.”

“Hmm? What did you just call me?”

“I don’t know. Whatever you heard.” I dropped the “old man” bomb and went to check Jamie’s homework. He wants to act like a ‘Daddy’ in bed, but gets sensitive when I call him an old man.

“Are you going home tomorrow?” he asked.

“Yes, it’s my day off. Why?”

“Aren’t you staying with me?” He pulled me into a hug and whispered in my ear.

“We could have been alone together.”

“Stop!” I pushed him away before I got drunk on his scent.” Seriously, stop. My legs were shaking so much earlier I could barely drive to pick up Jamie.” He laughed , his eyes sparkling.

“But you loved it.”

“I did, but I have to see my family. My Dad and Mom will be upset if I skip again. Last week l used the excuse that Jamie was sick.”

“Fine,” he nodded.

“Also, I have a football match with my friends tomorrow evening. Do you want to come?”

“Did you forget I’m bad at football?”

“I didn’t forget, but it’s just for fun. Please come with me.”

“I’ll pass. You go have fun with your friends.”

“I want you there! We can be together. Please?” I hugged him. I didn’t want to be away from him for even a day either. He finally gave in, pinching my nose.

“Okay, okay. But promise you won’t make that face at anyone else.”

“I promise. I only act like this with you.”

“Do you have a kit and boots?”

“I have some.”

“Okay, see you at the university field at 6: 00 PM tomorrow. My old friends from undergrad will be there-including Gap.” P’Jane smirked.

“You’re taking me there to ‘launch’ our relationship, aren’t you?” I looked away.

“What? Did I say that?”

“You’re going to tell your friends we’re back together, aren’t you? You’re afraid they won’t believe you because I disappeared for so long.”

“Fine! 6: 00 PM. Field three. Don’t be late!” I pointed a pencil at him.” I won’t be late. Big Jane is never late.” I rolled my eyes.

“Big Jane is never late, unless he cums late.”

“P’Jane, that’s disgusting!

You pervert!” I laughed, shaking my head at his earlier comments before we joined the group.

“Hey guys, you remember P’Jane, right? I invited him to play with us. Hope you don’t mind,” I introduced the tall man standing beside me. Everyone was already in their football kits, including P’Jane. He gave a small smile.

“Hello, everyone. It’s been a long time.”

“We don’t mind at all!” Mix was the first to snap out of his daze.” Hello, P’Jane. Long time no see.” While the rest of the guys swarmed him with greetings, Gap immediately yanked me aside, looking like he’d seen a ghost.

“What the-? What is this!?”

“We’re back together.”

“How? Wasn’t he in America?”

“No, he stayed in Thailand after his mother’s funeral. We ran into each other by chance and… well, reconnected.”

“Holy shit, for real?” Gap groaned in disbelief before nearly knocking me over with a celebratory slap on the shoulder.

“I’m genuinely happy for you, mam! Finally, your ‘immortal love’ is actually happening!”

“Yeah, he still loves me. And as for my side… well, you already know. When the feelings match, the rest isn’t that hard.”

“Damn, it’s like a novel. No matter how many times you break up, it’s always him. How did you run into him again?”

“I’ll tell you later. It’s a long story.” I had to coordinate with P’Jane first before telling Gap anything. Gap had no idea that P’Jane was actually “Mr. Lilac,” the big boss of the company he worked for, and I doubted P’Jane wanted him to find out like this. As it turns out… P’Jane really is terrible at football. I felt a bit guilty, wondering if I was torturing him. I was so used to seeing him excel at everything that seeing him struggle felt surreal. But it made me realize he’s just a normal human being with strengths and weaknesses like anyone else. Once he got the hang of it, he used his intelligence to compensate; whenever he got the ball, he’d immediately look for me or another teammate nearby and pass it off, letting us do the scoring. Clever, but honestly, he wasn’t much help to the team. By the second half, I moved him to defense-it suited him much better. The game ended in a draw around 8: 00 PM. P’Jane had improved by the end, but I wouldn’t call him talented. To be honest, I’m much better than him. Still, I was happy to see him enjoying himself. My friends invited him to the next game, but he gave a neutral answer, which I translated as a “no”-unless he planned on watching me from the sidelines like he used to. We all showered and changed, and Gap suggested we go out for drinks since it was Friday. I didn’t want to ruin the mood, so l agreed. I called my Dad and Mom to tell them I’d be late.

“You’re coming too, right P’?” Gap asked P’Jane.

P’Jane ruffled my hair.

“If Jane goes, I go. Where to?” Gap named a place, and P’Jane nodded.

“I know it. They have good music.” We arrived at a luxury semi-bar decorated in a classic style. It turned out the bar belonged to Gear, Gap’s twin brother. Everyone started ordering food, drinks, and cigars. P’Jane used a cigar cutter and began to smoke. I noticed he smoked cigars differently than cigarettes-with cigarettes, he inhaled deep into his lungs, but with the cigar, he just tasted the smoke in his mouth before letting it out.

“Ugh, I’m so stressed with work,” Gap groaned.

“Work is money, money is work, and money brings happiness,” I joked, patting his shoulder.

“Hey, did you end up getting the nanny job for Mr. Lilac’s kid?” Gap asked .

“Oh! No, I forgot to tell you. I’m working as a nanny for another family. Same salary, though.”

“Damn! If you worked for Mr. Lilac, I could have asked you to find out why the hell he won’t promote me yet!”

“Gap, uh… ” I looked at P’Jane, who had his arms crossed, staring intensely at Gap. But Gap was already a few drinks in and couldn’t stop venting.

“They promoted that idiot P’Pong, whose work is literal trash! Mr. Lilac must be blind! He’s a-” I quickly stuffed a piece of raw lettuce into Gap’s mouth to shut him up.

“Hahaha! You’re drunk, Gap. Stop talking!” Especially since your ultimate boss is sitting right here! P’Jane didn’t let it slide. He traced the rim of his glass and asked calmly, “Maybe your boss has his reasons? Have you evaluated yourself properly, Gap?” Gap swallowed the lettuce.

“What reasons? There’s no reason other than being blind!”

“Maybe you still make mistakes? Or your work isn’t standing out enough?”

“I might have mistakes, but how is that idiot Pong better than me!?”

“Then tell me your strengths. Why should you be promoted? If you make a good case, maybe you’ll get it,” P’Jane challenged.

“I’m… enthusiastic!”

“Everyone is enthusiastic.”

“I work hard! And I have financial burdens!”

“Everyone has burdens, Gap. You’re not the only one. None of those are professional reasons for a promotion.”

“Enough! Why are you contradicting everything I say!?” Gap slammed the table. I had to jump in and hold him back before he caused a scene. As the night went on, the music shifted to a full live band-piano, saxophone, and classic international hits. Most of my friends were starting to pass out from the alcohol, but P’Jane and I were still sober. He was tapping his foot to the rhythm.

“The music is great,” I said.

“It is. The saxophonist is very good.”

“Do you like the saxophone?”

“I do. I can play it, actually.”

“No way! You have to play for me sometime.”

“Of course,” he smiled.

“But my favorite is the piano.” I watched his sharp profile in the dim light. To anyone else, he looked like a handsome, ordinary man. No one would guess the secrets and ambitions he hid.

“P’Jane, I want to know something.”

“What?”

“If you didn’t dream of ‘ruling the world, ‘ what would your real dream be? Your heart’s dream?”

I tilted my head, mimicking the way he used to question me.” I told you, a judge.”

“No, that’s just because you want power. What is the dream from your soul?” He went quiet for a moment, looking slightly embarrassed-a look I’ve rarely seen on him.

“A pianist.”

“What?” I gasped. It was so… normal. It caught me completely off guard.

“I wanted to be a classical pianist. To have my own solo concerts.”

“But you can do that! You’re so talented.”

“I didn’t study it deeply enough to be a professional,” he shook his head.

“I can play, but I’m not famous. Who would buy a ticket?”

“But why didn’t you choose to study music? You’re a genius; you could have been the next Mozart.”

“Because I was too smart,” he said simply.

“When you have a photographic memory and get top grades, people expect you to be a lawyer, a doctor, or run the family business. Music was never seen as an option; it was just a hobby.”

“It must be hard being good at everything,” I mused.

“I only have one talent-writing-so I only had one dream. Being good at everything makes it hard to focus because you can do it all.” P’Jane looked impressed by my words. He gave a small, genuine smile.

“You’re right, Jane.”

“Hey! Gap!” I shouted, waking my friend up.

“What!?”

“Ask Gear if P’Jane can go up and play the piano. He’s amazing!”” Jane!” P’Jane hissed, looking genuinely panicked.

“Don’t.” I ignored him. He had a dream of a solo concert; if he couldn’t have that, at least he could show off in this bar.

“I’ll ask him! Hey, Gear!” Gap stumbled over to his brother. P’Jane looked more nervous than I’ve ever seen him. The announcer stepped up to the mic: “Tonight, we have a special guest. Please welcome, Khun JP!” Our table erupted in cheers. I pulled P’Jane up from his chair.” Go on, P’! Everyone’s waiting!” P’Jane cleared his throat, gave my head a firm (but playful) smack, and walked toward the stage. Despite his nerves, he moved wvith the grace of a lion. He spoke to the musicians, nodded, and sat down at the electric piano. The first notes of a world-famous classic began to ring out, harmonizing with the band. P’Jane began to sing in that smoky, charming voice of his: I remember your eyes in the morning sun. I feel your touch in the gentle rain, and in the moments you are far away, I long to hold you in my arms again. Then you come to me like a summer breeze, Keeping me warm with your love, then softly leaving. And now it’s your turn to let me know… just how deep your love for me truly is. My friends were hooting and teasing me relentlessly, especially Gap, because P’Jane’s eyes were fixed on me with a sweet, shimmering gaze. He chose that song to speak directly to my soul. I couldn’t stop smiling. Even though he was shy at first, P’Jane looked truly happy to be performing. He was incredible.

“How deep is your love? I really mean to learn… ”

“My love for you is deeper than the deepest ocean and wider than the sky!” I cupped my hands and shouted back at the top of my lungs. My friends cheered and slammed the table in approval. I saw the joy erupt in P’Jane’s eyes; he was thrilled that I wasn’t afraid to show the world how much I loved him. It was one of the happiest nights of my life. The happiness was short-lived. The next morning, I was jolted awake by my mother pounding on the door.

“Jean has been cut from the camp. She’s coming back to Thailand in two days. She didn’t pass the trainee selection. What are we going to do, Jane?” I rushed back to the Palakorn estate, determined to demand answers from P’Jane. My family was in a state of despair, and Jean was inconsolable. When I. confronted P’Jane in his office, he was chillingly indifferent, calmly flipping through a magazine.

“P’Jane! Didn’t you hear? Jean failed. You gave her a ‘favor, ‘ didn’t you? How could this happen?”

“And I kept my word,” he replied without looking up.

“What do you mean? Jean-”

” Jean asked to be a trainee.

She didn’t ask to become an artist. I fulfilled her request exactly. Are you saying I didn’t grant her wish?” I was stunned. He continued coldly, “Is there anything else?”

“Can’t you help her? Help her debut?” P’Jane slammed the magazine down, his eyes flashing.

“Stop. Don’t even think about asking on her behalf. You need to stop struggling for everyone in your family. Sit down.”

He then revealed the harsh truth: The agency told him Jean had no talent. Her dancing was “mediocre,” and her singing was non-existent. Worse, she lacked discipline-skipping rehearsals, faking illnesses, and being unable to take criticism.

“Your parents saw her limitations from the start,” he said.

“The old saying ‘adult’s see further than children’ is often true.”

“If you knew she wouldn’t make it,” I whispered, “why did you give her the favor?” He smirked.

“So she would stop thinking she failed because she lacked ‘opportunity.’ Now she knows she failed because she lacks ‘ability’.” It was the cruelest thing he could say, but it was the absolute truth. Jean returned to Thailand a shell of herself. She had no high school diploma and no future. Following P’Jane’s orders, I brought her to the estate at midnight. I told her to bring a change of clothes, thinking she would stay the night. I kept wondering: What could a man like P’ane possibly want from a girl like Jean? He told us to meet him at the old garage-the same place where l had found the tools to break into his forbidden room. When we arrived, his associates, Boat and Lee, were there. The atmosphere was heavy and suffocating. P’Jane offered us red soda, smiling that “villainous” smile I knew all too well.

“Jean, you remember our agreement, don’t you? When you ask for something from me… one day, I ask for something back.” Jean nodded slowly, swallowing hard. P’Jane gave a signal to Boat and Lee. Before we could react, they snatched Jean up, spilling her soda everywhere. They pinned her down onto an old ping-pong table.

“What are you doing!?” I screamed. P’Jane stepped forward. In his hand, he held a sharp, glistening saw that caught the light of the overhead bulb. His voice was calm, but the words turned my blood to ice: “These two legs that can’t dance for shit… I’ll be taking them now.”