STRINGS OF FATE

CHAPTER 14 THE STRINGS START TO SNAP

The storm came quietly at first — a single knock on Gemini’s dorm door at 6 a.m.

“Office. Now.” The staff assistant didn’t meet his eyes.

He barely had time to change before being escorted down the corridor and into a cold, windowless room inside SunMoon’s management wing. At the center of it stood Thanawat — arms folded, dressed immaculately in charcoal gray, his eyes burning with a rage that didn’t need to be loud to be violent.

“I thought we had an agreement,” he said, voice low and eerily calm.

Gemini sat slowly. “I didn’t break the contract.”

“Didn’t you?” Thanawat slid a printed photo across the table — a still from the ELYEN shoot. Gemini strumming the guitar, his face soft, bathed in sunlight.

Thanawat tapped it once. “No prior approval. No agency screening. No brand liaison. You went behind my back.”

Gemini looked at the photo — then looked up. “It was an anonymous request. They wanted me. Not the package you’ve been building.”

Thanawat leaned in. His voice dropped like a blade.

“Let me make this clear: I made you. Every spotlight that touches your face, every interview you get, every script that lands in your lap — I gave you.”

“You gave me chains,” Gemini said quietly.

The silence after that was thick.

Thanawat’s fist struck the table, startling even himself. “You need me,” he growled. “Without me, you’re just another boy with a pretty voice and nothing to show for it.”

Gemini’s hands were shaking, but he didn’t look away. “Then why are you afraid I’ll be more without you?”

Thanawat stared at him.

Then—slowly—he smiled.

Not kind. Not amused.

Just cruel.

“We’ll see how far you get without me. Let’s cancel next week’s casting call. Pull your name from the showcase. Maybe the sponsors don’t need someone so difficult.”

Gemini froze.

But before he could answer, Thanawat was already walking away — his voice echoing:

“Next time you disobey, I’ll make sure no one remembers your name.”

Meanwhile, in a high-rise across the city, Nani finished reviewing his final file — a complete, undeniable record of Thanawat’s abusive control over multiple talents.

Contracts with illegal clauses. Audio recordings of threats. Altered medical schedules. Photos of bruises. Deletion of legal contact access.

And most damning — a voice memo of Thanawat laughing.

“Puppets don’t need freedom. They need performance.”

Nani stared at the screen, lips tight.

He pressed "Send."

One copy to a trusted legal contact.

One copy to Fourth.

Back in the dorms, Gemini sat on the floor beside his bed, back against the wall. His guitar leaned beside him, untouched.

Prim peeked through the door. “Hey.”

He didn’t answer.

She came in anyway, sitting beside him without a word. She passed him a bento box, still warm. The scent of garlic and soy filled the air.

“I don’t want you to fade,” she whispered.

He leaned his head against her shoulder. “Then help me remember who I was.”

Above it all, Fourth’s phone buzzed once.
Nani: “It’s done. We have everything.”

He picked up the printed still from the ELYEN shoot.

Gemini, smiling.

Free.

“Good,” Fourth murmured.

“Now let’s burn the strings.”