Book #1 | A perfect life doesn't mean having a wealthy family, a stable job, true friends, and a loyal lover. Singto Prachaya almost had everything till he got into an accident and lost his memories. Months after the accident, unknown symptoms showe...
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THE RAIN BEGAN to create a fog on the glass window. It's almost midnight, and sleep wasn't an option to Singto. The thunder was getting louder each minute passed, and the annoying lightning wasn't helping at all.
It seems like heaven's having a party, and he hates it— the weather.
Adjusting his sleeping position for the nth time, Singto finally gave up. Getting out from the bed, Singto walked closer to the window, not even wincing from the continuous lightning strike outside. Settling down on top of a table with a magazine rack and a lampshade, he formed random shapes and wrote names on the foggy window.
"So, what do we have here? A young man who couldn't sleep because of the thunderstorm, or he just couldn't sleep at all?"
He paused, still fingers attached to the window, almost completing the word Krist. He knew that he should ignore Krist's presence and never entertain, no matter what. But the longingness he felt inside grew, and there's no way he'll be able to stop it.
There's something in Krist's eyes that Singto wanted to give in. Is it the way he pleads? Or the love that never left his eyes, still sparkling like the stars in the sky? Nevertheless, his eyes were telling Singto something else that he, himself have no idea at all.
"You're still not talking to me?" Krist asked, seeing how Singto wanted to give in, in his desire to make it up with his dead lover.
I badly want to talk to you. Singto replied in his mind, slowly jumping away from the table and, in the process, the magazine rack fell. The magazines and newspapers were all scattered on the floor, but only one thing caught his attention— a thick journal covered in plastic.
The journal isn't dusty and obviously not new either. Singto picked it up and examined the grey-colored journal in his hands. It was his favorite color, stated in one of his slam books.
"Am I allowed to ask you, what are you're holding?"
"Obviously a journal, what else?" Singto sarcastically replied, still his eyes were fixed on the journal.
"And now we're talking," Amusement filled Krist's voice, knowing he made Singto talk to him.
"Just shut up, and go away. You're only making things worst by just talking to you— talking to myself. Why are you even here? To make me feel guilty that I'd forgotten about you or the times we'd spent together?"
Krist shook his head in disapproval. "It's not you who should be asking that question. I should be the one asking you that question. Why am I here, Singto?"
"W-What? What are you talking about?"
"Figure it out," Krist replied, walking closer to where Singto's standing while pointing his fingers on the journal. "But let's focus on something else tonight— the grey journal."
"No," Singto protested upon seeing the glorious desire in Krist's eyes. "I'm not reading someone else's journal, Krist. Journals meant to be private, and what you're plotting in your head is against the privacy of whoever left this journal here."
"Privacy, my ass! You are reading that journal, one page a day, and I'm not taking no as an answer."
"I'm the one deciding to read it or not. You're just inside my head,"
"Am I not part of you? Aren't you curious about what's inside that journal? Maybe a secret, or something spectacular, don't you think?"
"That's why it's called a secret, dumbass! The owner doesn't want us to discover something—"
"Based on your experience, there are no secrets that time doesn't reveal, don't you agree? No? But your old self would've agreed with me by now." Krist interrupted, keeping his devious smile.
It was not the guilt of Krist's death that's talking to him right now, but the guilt of yesterday.
They promised not to kept secrets from each other, no lies, not even a white lie. When Singto knew about his unconfirmed diagnosis, he had a choice to share it with his lover. But he chose to keep it from himself, not because he's selfish but because he's selfless enough not to put the burden on someone else's shoulder.
"You're not sleeping on me, right?" Krist asked as soon as he saw Singto walking back on his bed.
"And you're probably not leaving me, right?" Singto asked back, placing the journal in his lap.
"I'm afraid not,"
No matter how many times Singto protested not to, he eventually found himself reading the cover page. He noticed the neatness and how well-crafted the inside by whoever's the owner of the grey journal. It's like the slam books he found in his room. Every time he flipped to the next page and the next, the handcrafted designs filled the page.
Staring at his hands, he couldn't believe that he's capable of such things.
"Kit,"
"What was that?"
"The owner of the journal, his name is Kit. So, before we continue. . . I continue to a crime, and maybe asking permission though Kit's not here would lessen my penalty."
"Seriously?"
"I'm serious because I'm talking about someone's privacy and my guilt. You're basically one of it— the guilt who's eating me alive right now."
Krist acted like zipping his lips. Singto decided to uncover the secrets written in the journal, just like what Krist assumed. The designs were familiar to him from top to bottom. Letting his hand roamed every part of the page, tracing the paper raffia ribbon from end to end. If Singto didn't lose his memories, then he'll be nostalgic by now.
"What did it say?" Krist asked, curiosity taking over his body as he slumped next to Singto.
"For a troublemaker like you—"
"Be quiet and read,"
"Fine! It's not even an entry," Singto rolled his eyes, trying to focus on the writings.
BUCKET LIST: 1. To sing a song with an audience ✔ 2. To dance under the heavy rain 3. To read a book 4. To play with kids 5. To socialize with other people 6. To take a selfie with a digital camera 7. To wish upon a star 8. To eat foods under the hate list 9. To never lie 10. To love myself
The bucket list seems fun to do while I'm bored in here. Singto said in his mind, still staring at the list.
"Kit already achieved the first," Krist pointed his finger on the number with a checkmark. "What about you do the rest? It's quite fun and interesting to busy yourself from time to time."
"Just like what I have in mind," For the first time in forever, Singto genuinely smiled at Krist. "What do you think is the reason why Kit made a bucket list? It's not like his main reason is to achieve all of this. I think there's more to it, and that's my second goal."
"What made you think that way? What's your first goal anyway?"
"Read the bucket list over and over again," Singto placed the journal in front of Krist and gave him a questioning look. "The bucket list appeared to be simple and achievable, so why this kind of thing? Most people wanted to achieve like bungee jumping, travel the world, ride a hot air balloon, shark diving, or attend an exclusive fan meeting. My point is, the bucket list seems simple, but I think it's related to Kit's fear, or I don't know."
"You have a point," Krist nodded, agreeing to Singto's bucket list theory. "Like the second one, you can do it, like in today's weather. Maybe Kit's dancing under the rain right now, if he ever remembers what he's been writing in his lost journal."
"If he wasn't able to do it," Singto closed the journal, returning where he found it. "Then I'll be the one to do it— in the morning. There's no way I could escape this damn room when my mom stationed a nurse outside."
