Red Strings

Chapter One

Marc sighed dramatically and shook his head. "You're hopeless," he said, though there was fondness in his tone. "One of these days, Satang, you're going to have to do something about this. You can't just sit behind this tree forever."

"I'm not—" Satang started to protest, but Marc held up a hand to stop him.

"Relax. I'm not saying you need to pour your heart out or anything. But maybe just... talk to him? You know, like a normal person?" Marc suggested, his teasing replaced with gentle encouragement.

Satang groaned, running a hand through his hair. The very idea made his stomach churn. "It's not that simple, Marc."

Marc gave him a look that was equal parts exasperation and sympathy. "Maybe not. But hiding isn't exactly working out for you either, is it?"

Satang didn't reply to Marc's earlier remarks. Instead, his eyes drifted back to the football field, locking once more onto Winny. Watching him practice with such effortless grace felt like a ritual—a private indulgence. In his heart, he thought it was enough to admire him from afar. Yet, Marc's words lingered, unraveling threads of "what ifs" in his mind.

What if he took a chance? What if Winny smiled back? What if...

Satang shook his head, chasing the thoughts away. It was easier to stay hidden. Safer.

"Come on, let's go back to the dorm," Marc said, brushing stray grass from his hands as he stood.

Satang nodded, grabbing his bag. Just as they turned to leave, a voice rang out, loud and energetic.

"Hey, Marc!"

Both of them turned toward the sound, spotting a tall, thin guy with wide, doe-like eyes sprinting toward them. The boy was a whirlwind of motion, tripping over his own feet just as he reached them. Before he could hit the ground, Marc stepped forward, catching him with surprising ease.

"Careful, Poon! Why are you always running like that?" Marc scolded, though his tone held a warmth that caught Satang's attention.

Poon grinned sheepishly, brushing imaginary dust off his clothes. "Sorry, sorry! But I had to catch you before you disappeared. P'Don's throwing a party tonight and wants us to come. Are you in?"

Marc's answer was immediate, and it wiped the hopeful grin off Poon's face. "Not happening. I've got lectures to prepare for."

Poon's pout was almost theatrical. "Lectures? It's Friday night, Marc! Who cares about lectures? You should come with me!"

Satang watched the exchange with a faint, amused smile. There was something refreshing about the way Poon bounced around Marc, almost like an excited puppy, while Marc—so usually unflappable—responded with a gentleness Satang hadn't seen before. It was... interesting.

Marc sighed, glancing back at Satang, who stood a few steps behind, waiting patiently. But Poon's curious gaze quickly shifted to him.

"Who's this?" Poon asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

Before Satang could react, his eyes widening slightly in panic, Marc stepped in to diffuse the moment. "This is Satang, my best friend," Marc said casually, his tone dismissive but calm.

"Oh..." Poon muttered, narrowing his eyes for a moment before his face lit up mischievously. "For a second there, I thought you were turning me down because you have a boyfriend now."

The words landed like a thunderbolt, and both Marc and Satang froze before simultaneously recoiling with exaggerated disgust.

"What the—NO!" Marc groaned, waving his hands dramatically as though trying to swat away the implication.