Then and Now [INDEFINITE HIATUS]

13 || futile attempts

SIX YEARS AGO

"Heard Metawin passed admissions for Berkeley..." Bright casually brought up one afternoon as he kicked a football towards Type. The two were currently in the Opas-iamkajorn backyard, having football drills for no apparent reason other than it was a nice day out. Bangkok, for once, was sporting a light breeze and the trees surrounding the residence amplified it.

"Yeah, but how did you—" Type glanced at Bright for a second, quite puzzled, before realizing something. "Oh right, I'm sure Win has already told you." Kicking the ball back, he pointed out. "You two have awfully become close since you got back..."

"Well, I got a lot of time in my hands... Plus, the kid's different. I kinda see myself a lot in him..." Bright shrugged. "Anyway, about Berkeley... That's huge."

Type hummed in agreement then shortly frowned. "But it's not gonna happen. Win studying abroad is out of the picture. A deal breaker. Much more studying architecture..."

"Why though?" The Chivaaree heir stalled the ball under his foot, keeping his tone light so as not to aggravate the other man. "I can see that Win's got the knack for archi."

"You don't know Win like we do. The kid's indecisive. He wanted to be a judge first. Second, a pastry chef, which he's also great at, believe it or not. And now archi."

"But he's 18 now. I'm sure he's thought about this carefully. Besides, we all went through that phase." Bright paused. "I mean, you wanted to be in advertising during middle school... I wanted to be a photographer."

Type averted his gaze to the side, letting out a sardonic laugh. "But as firstborns and only sons, we never really had the choice did we..."

"Exactly. We bear the heaviest expectations and responsibilities so that others that come after us can afford a little freedom." Bright argued. "Win isn't firstborn. He can afford to make a choice, Type. To make a life of his own..."

"He'll get eaten alive out there..." Type muttered so quietly that Bright almost didn't hear him. "At least in business, he has me. Our cousins..."

"But will he be happy?" The other man hushed back. "And don't you think it's a bit cruel and unfair? We all went abroad for uni. Why can't he do the same?"

"You think I haven't thought about that?" Type sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I'm well aware that it is... It's just—We can't afford to have Win far from us. It's risky... Still too risky..."

"Alai? Why?"

"It doesn't matt—"

"Bentley! Come back here!" Win, who had been on the other end of the yard in the swimming pool (teaching Cartier and Bentley how to swim), suddenly exclaimed. It appeared that the said sheltie was running away from his difficult lesson to play with the two older men, successfully distracting them from their conversation.

Bright crouched down to catch the incoming sheltie. "Naughty Ben."

"Ai Ben, you're all muddy now!" Win complained as he reached where they were, his rash guard dripping wet. He then thanked the older and threw in a quick wary glance at him, obviously aware what Bright and his brother were talking about, before running back to the pool. "Thanks, P'Bai..."

"Anyway, where were we?"

"Playing football?"

"Yeah, nice try. So about Win..." Bright resumed their drills in an attempt to lighten up Type's mood.

"Did Winnie force you on this?"

"I'm here on my own."

"It's so unlike you to stick your nose into people's business though..."