✔The Wingman

2

"You heard P'Krist didn't you pretty boy? Why don't you repeat that speech?"

Pretty boy?!

That's what he called me that night. I was hoping he was drunk and didn't remember.

And why the hell this freak keeps staring at my neck?!😫

"Which one P?"

"Huh?!"
He looked around, trying to find the one who talked.

"You asked for the pretty boy to answer....."
It's Sing.
"There are three of us. So which one?"

Is he serious?!

"Certainly not you. Tsk... so disrespectful"
The head hazer glared at him before they all turned their attention back to me.
"Is that how you three plan to act in front of your seniors?"

Okay so why again is it those two who brought trouble but me who ended up in the middle?🤔

"We don't have all day you know"

Good then stop staring at me!

I sighed. Okay.... fine,

"Swadeekhrap first years! My name is Perawat Sangpotir--"

"Pfftt...."
I turned around to glare at those monkeys who both tried covering their laughs with coughs.

What's so funny?

"And what exactly you think you're doing?"

"Eh... you asked to repeat your speech...."
I looked around to make sure if that was actually the case. You never know.
"I'm repeating it"

The senior blinked at me for a second and then asked very slowly like he suspects I might not understand him.
"Word by word?"

Yeah, is that weird?!

I nodded.
"Every word"

My stranger... okay that's em... nope. The guy.... yeah, the guy in front of me snorted.

"Then let us hear you, pretty boy!"

I gulped.

.

.

.

.
Am I crazy to think it was better to stay quiet?

I don't think so because now they're all staring at me like I'm some circus freak. From their point of view, maybe I am.

"Can we go now P?"
Shitheaded Mek is enjoying the looks on their faces a bit too much.

"P...."

"Y-yeah?"
"Yeah.... go, go away. But wait, remember...."
He put a hand on Singto's shoulder a little too tightly when he tried to slip away.
"From now on I have my eyes on the two of you"

He looks so calm, just casually threatening two of his juniors with a very intimidating air around him. I'm impressed.

Maybe I should tip him off, questioning me is not the way to go if he wants to get these two.

We left the auditorium, not before I heard someone say;

"He really remember the whole damn thing?!"

.
.
"Saint New--"

"Oh shut up!"

"Eh... New that---"

"Both of you Sing!"
"Shut the fuck up!"

See the thing is, ever since I came to senses, somehow I can remember whatever I see, read or hear. Even the things I feel, I remember. I'm not like those genius TV guys we often see with high IQs. It's not like a blessing or anything. There's always stuff you don't wanna remember.