Thyme Paramaanantra and Kavin Kittiyangkul used to be the the billionaire it boys of Kocher High School. They were part of a group called the F4.
But in present day, Thyme is the owner and curator of a well-known art gallery. And Kavin is an FBI-tr...
"Paintings are so boring. Why are we here?" A high schooler rolls her eyes in derision as her friend excitedly peers into every room in Gallery Akira.
"We're not here to see paintings you nitwit. I want to see Thyme."
"Who?"
"Thyme. The billionaire? He runs the gallery."
The girl finally stops whining and gasps in delight. "You're kidding?! Thyme Paramaanantra?! The billionaire who looks like that actor? The tall one?"
"Bright Vachirawit! Yes! That Thyme."
"You should have said something sooner. I didn't wear any makeup today!"
"As if makeup would have made a difference."
"Bitch!"
The two high schoolers go on walking through the big gallery, hoping to get a glance of the handsome proprietor but they were walking in the wrong direction.
Thyme is currently standing transfixed at the archway of hallway B, staring at the back of a seemingly oblivious man in a plain white shirt.
Was that Kavin? The same thought has been nagging at him ever since the man walked into the room. But how could that be Kavin? Last he heard, he was in the United States. Why would he be here and in Thyme's gallery of all places?
Maybe it was a doppelgänger.
Someone with the same broad shoulders, the same confident walk, the same sharp jawline and cheekbones punctuated by small moles. He even had the same piercing stare magnified by wire rimmed glasses.
All that was missing was the necklace Kavin used to wear.
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Or perhaps, Thyme just needed to eat. It was way past lunchtime and he has not eaten anything since last night. Perhaps this was a hallucination. It happened once in awhile, he would think he saw Kavin in a crowded room or across the road.
Which was perfectly normal.
They've known each other since they were kids. You'd miss your childhood best friend too even if the asshole straight up ghosted you.
Thyme rolls his eyes and adjusts his suit jacket. He had no time for imaginary friends. What he should make time for is sushi. He moves from the doorway when the imaginary man calls his name.
"Thyme. It's been a long time, bro."
"Kavin? What are you doing here?"
"Love the gallery."
"Don't tell me you're here for a tour?," Thyme smirks, arms crossed.
"Actually, I was hoping you had time to talk?"
"I was going to grab some lunch. You hungry?"
Kavin looks at his watch. "You haven't eaten? It's almost two."
