If Namping had known how famous his novel would become, he might have written a fake name and fled the country.
Now, instead of spending mornings with tea and his cat, Milo. Namping had spent the last five minutes crouched behind a folding chair, wondering if anyone could see him.
Probably yes. He was the only person wearing a cardigan two sizes too big and clutching a notebook like it contained the world's secrets.
"Relax," his best friend Save whispered from beside him, grinning. "You look like you're about to a confess to a crime."
"I might as well be," Namping muttered. "I lied on my résumé. I said I liked meeting new people. Lies. Pure lies."
Save snorted. "You mean, the biggest lie of your life?"
Namping's glare could've shattered glass.
The casting director, a bubbly woman named Inthira, walked up to them, her hair in a messy bun that somehow looked intentional. She had a stack of scripts in one hand, a coffee in the other, and a clipboard that wobbled as she walked.
"Next actor, please!" she chirped, almost skipping. "And try not to scare the author this time!"
Namping blinked. "Excuse me?"
Inthira waved a hand. "Oh, nothing. You just look like a frightened cat. Cute, but also panicky. Totally endearing!"
Save elbowed him. "See? Endearing."
Namping groaned. "I do not look endearing."
Inthira laughed. "Honey, you're a novelist. You literally make people cry and swoon for fun. This is nothing." She winked. "Think of it as... character research!"
He made a note to hide under the table next time.
The door swung open, and a tall, calm figure stepped in. His black jeans, white shirt, and composed aura made him look like he'd wandered out a magazine.
Everyone's heads turned. Namping's stomach did a cartwheel.
Keng Harit.
He didn't introduce himself loudly or flash a smile; he bowed slightly and waited. His voice, when he finally spoke, was so smooth that Namping almost dropped his notebook.
"Good morning," he said softly. "I'm here for the lead audition."
"Finally," Inthira clapped, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "You're here to save our drama from...mediocrity. Let's see if it's true!" She handed him the script like it was a scroll of destiny.
Namping squinted at the page. Page three— the rain confession scene. This was the emotional core of his story, the quiet moment where Phupha shows his love without fanfare.
Keng began reading.
It wasn't acting. It was... magical. His voice was steady, his eyes calm, and every line landed perfectly. Namping felt a tug at his chest. He might have gasped.
Inthira leaned over him, whispering loudly, "Oh my gosh. Look at him! He's like a human hug!"
Namping whispered back. "He's... amazing."
Inthira gasped. "You do realize you're supposed to criticize, right? Or are you just melting over there?"
"I'm... not melting," Namping squeaked.
"You are. Melted. Completely. I can see it in your hoodie."
Keng looked at him then — direct, calm, unflinching. Namping froze. His cheeks burned hotter than a summer sidewalk.
When the reading ended, Inthira jumped up, clapping. "Bravo! That was brilliant! See, I knew my casting powers were flawless!!"
Keng nodded politely. "Thank you."
"And author!"Inthira turned to Namping. "What do you think?"
"Um..." Namping swallowed. "He...captured Phupha perfectly."
"You mean, like, literally perfect?" Inthira teased. "Because I'll allow the fan-girling but make it subtle."
Namping nearly fainted.
—————
After auditions, Namping tried to sneak out quietly, only to run straight into Keng in the hallway.
"You dropped this," Keng said, holding out his notebook.
Namping blinked. "Oh, thanks. I... didn't expect—"
"You're Namping, right?" Keng asked.
"Yes," he squeaked. "Just Namping is fine."
"Good to know." Keng's lips curved faintly, almost a smile.
Namping's brain shut down. He nodded. "Congratulations. You got the role?"
"Yes, " Keng said simply. "Guess I'll have to make sure your story doesn't disappoint."
"Y-you won't!" Namping stammered. "I mean—no pressure! Not that I'm putting pressure!"
Keng smirked faintly. "Relax, author. I've got this."
Namping scurried off, muttering incoherently under his breath.
—————
That night, at home, he sat with Milo.
"You're too smooth," he whispered. "And I have a boyfriend. Tee... Tee is amazing. He's reliable. He texts me, worries if I'm okay."
Milo blinked.
"...and yet somehow is making me question everything."
He groaned, burying his face into the pillow. "I'm ridiculous."
—————
The next day, rehearsals were chaotic. Inthira was running around like a caffeinated squirrel.
"Move over there! No, that's too much drama! Everyone, five-minute coffee break! And author, please try not to trip this time!"
Namping sighed. "She's...energetic."
Keng handed him coffee silently, his gaze calm and almost protective.
Save whispered, "See? Observant and mysterious. Already better than Tee this morning."
Namping's stomach tightened. He texted Tee:
TEE: Don't forget, we have plans tonight.
He shoved the phone into his pocket, suddenly unsure if he wanted to reply.
Keng leaned slightly, deadpan. "You're tense. Relax. You look like a scared cat."
"I-I'm fine!" Namping spluttered. Milo's judgmental glare from the corner seemed to echo Keng's sentiment.
By lunch, Namping managed to spill sauce on his shirt. Inthira gasped dramatically. "Oh no! That's a tragedy! Drama on top of drama!" She grabbed a stack of napkins like a first responder.
"You're a disaster," Keng said quietly, handing him a napkin.
"I'm... sorry," Namping muttered.
"You're fine. At least it's not blood."
Namping laughed nervously, thinking of Tee's careful, orderly way of texting him earlier. He should've been home laughing with Tee. And yet... Keng's calm, teasing presence made his heart inexplicably lighter.
—————
By the end of the day, Namping collapsed on his couch at home, Milo curling up on his lap. He texted Tee:
NAMPING: Home. Exhausted. See you tomorrow?
No reply yet. His chest tightened slightly. He loved Tee, he did. But suddenly... he didn't feel as grounded as he used to.
He looked at Milo. "Keng is... kind. Funny. And deadpan. Too attractive, in fact. But Tee... Tee's supposed to be the one I lean on."
The cat blinked.
"..I'm confused," Namping muttered softly. "And I have a feeling my heart's about to make things very complicated."
YOU ARE READING
The Script Between Us
RomanceShy novelist Namping never expected his hit book to become a TV drama-or to meet Keng, the stoic actor who brings his story to life. When heartbreak leaves Namping shattered, Keng becomes his unexpected comfort. Between quiet moments, teasing banter...
