Kinn's POV:
The phrase, "He's as stubborn as a bull," didn't begin to explain the cretinous bodyguard standing in the giant schoolyard. Internally, I facepalmed at the scene as I exited the library.
Porsche, my favorite person, decided to make his point loud and clear. Yesterday marked the shoe exchanging incident. Today, he was meters from me without shoes. He wiggled his toes uncomfortably against the heating cement of the sidewalk lining the grass. I knew damn well that Porsche had other shoes. This was his way of saying, "You owe me, asshole."
Standing next to him was Phupha. Based on his pointing and frowning, he shared my judgement.
Gripping my backpack strap hanging on my shoulder, I walked up to them with a cocked eyebrow.
This is going to be a fun conversation.
Seeing me, Porsche clenched his jaw and teetered in place. His tall friend crossed his arms and sternly eyed me up and down. Tense.
I opened the conversation with a snide remark. "Comfortable?"
"Not at all. I already have three blisters," Porsche complained with a smile.
His feet were dusted brown, and most of his toenails were chipped. If he wasn't going to put shoes on for himself, he should've done the rest of the world a favor and at least worn socks.
Did he really think this was going to persuade me to buy him shoes?
I chuckled and stuck my foot out towards him, showcasing white sneakers with worn out and frayed laces that I often retied. They weren't fancy, designer shoes, but they did the job. "These usually prevent that."
He scowled and didn't bother to look down. Instead, his cutting gaze fixated on my eyes. "You're the last one to talk about precautions."
If it weren't for Techno, the knife incident wouldn't have happened. I had an accident, unlike his deliberate decision to be barefoot.
"I'm not buying you shoes," I clarified, in case his thick skull hadn't gotten the message.
Porsche was too much like a child. Whenever he didn't get his way, he threw a tantrum or tried to get attention. It was difficult to believe he was the top of his class when he had the emotional intelligence of a toddler. Perhaps, all the seniors had the mental capacity of a baby. That was the only logical explanation.
Phupha gandered past my shoulder. "There's Tian. I'm going to walk him to class," he said quickly. Not even a goodbye, and he had jogged away from the conversation.
Porsche reached out to grab his arm in protest and groaned at his abandonment.
"Are you walking me to class, too?" I joked. In actuality, I didn't want him to take me anywhere. I had business to take care of.
"As if!"
I was relieved by his objection. My fear of his gradual investment in our Pairing was alleviated. He was back to the Porsche that didn't want anything to do with me.
I laughed. "Right. Have fun with your blisters," I said.
He pouted. "Have fun with your murderous tendencies."
I almost said, "Better watch your back," but I kept that remark to myself.
As I walked a few meters away, I suddenly heard an "Ouch!"
I stopped and turned around. Standing on one leg, Porsche was holding his foot and hissing in pain. He plucked a pointy stick from the bottom center of his foot. Flat. His foot was flatter than a cutting board. There was barely an arch. It must've hurt like hell to not have support. But that was his choice. I didn't force him to not wear shoes.
Swaying every which way, he soon lost his balance and landed on his ass in the greenery.
This idiot.
As if on cue, Pete approached him and cackled. Amused, he took a few photos of his pitiful state. After finishing, he made a few nasty comments and headed to class.
Porsche disregarded him, too worried for his foot to notice bystanders. Dabbing the cuff of his uniform sleeve to soak up the blood, he stained the white cloth a scarlet red. The corners of his eyes cringed upon handling the wound. His big toe flinched when he accidentally pressed too hard. Soft pieces of his bangs dangled from his face and danced with his winces. Biting his lower lip, he suppressed a cry as he picked out the shreds of wood.
I really wanted to ignore the pathetic situation. But the blood streaming down his heel told me that this was going to be a regular occurrence if I didn't act. Sometimes, adults had to step in when children didn't want to do what was best for them.
I walked back to him. "One pair and nothing over 2,000 baht," I said.
2,000 baht was already way out of my price range, but I'd make it work.
Huffing, Porsche looked up at me with knitted brows. "I get to choose the shoes," he demanded.
"Obviously."
I didn't even get a grateful smile from him. Tough crowd.
Porsche nodded and gently set his foot down. With a grunt, he hoisted himself to stand up and lifted his injured foot to balance on its toe.
"And put some shoes on," I scolded.
He rolled his eyes. I watched him shift from me and hobble away. Of course, he wasn't going in the direction of the dorms.
As he was walking, a cute sight caught his attention. Ram was kneeling and feeding the malnourished stray dog at our university. It hungrily lapped up the meat and rice from the plate. Its tail was creating a tornado as it rapidly wagged.
Excitedly, Porsche rushed to the dog. "Hi, buddy," he cooed.
Licking the remnants, it cocked its head to Porsche. Porsche cautiously extended his hand to it and allowed it to kiss his palm. Accepting the invitation, he caressed the top of its head and buried its fur between his fingers.
Ignoring the flutter in my chest, I spun to visit the Arts' common ground.
The Arts' commons were full of the most annoying people I'd ever encountered. Girls were attempting cartwheels across the lawn. Guys were trying to prove their singing abilities. BU didn't have an Arts faculty, but the creative students didn't hesitate to remind us that they existed. If I ever wanted someone to tap dance before shooting the crap out of someone, I knew where to go.
At the staircases leading up to a main building, Techno and some of his lackies were casually sitting in the middle and gossiping. Upon my arrival, his friends gave me unwelcoming stares. With one leg crossed over the other, Techno whirled his head to face me and pursed his lips. He picked up a cup of boba tea from his side and took a large sip.
Tucking one of my hands in my front pants' pocket, I patiently waited for him to finish. "We need to talk," I said.
He tugged the straw from his mouth and smacked his lips together. "About?" Techno asked.
He knew exactly what this was about. I bribed him to make less blogs about me, yet I had been on his homepage more than anyone else all week.
Exhaling deeply, I said, "You went back on our deal."
Techno shrugged. "So what?"
He was lucky I hadn't told my father about this.
"Why?"
One of his "girls" popped out a piece of paper and started fanning Techno like he was the Roman emperor. I was waiting for someone else to bring out a bundle of grapes to start feeding him. Should I have brought my cheese platter?
"Someone offered me more money to make headlines about you," Techno said nonchalantly.
My heart stopped in my chest. I became very aware of the fireball in the sky spotlighting the top of my head.
They were here, too?
"Who would do that?" I asked irritably, concealing my nerves.
"I can't disclose client information," Techno said seriously.
"No, but you can undercut your clients," I said. Pausing, I moved my backpack to rest higher on my shoulder. "I want my money back."
"And I want to marry Jake Gyllenhaal, but some things just won't happen," Techno said with a sarcastically sad face. His friends giggled.
I glared at him. I wanted to negotiate our terms, but he proved that he couldn't be trusted. If I threatened him, he'd likely create more problems for me than he already had.
"Techno, I'm serious. I can't be wasting that kind of money," I said.
Techno contemplated my pleading and took another exaggeratingly long sip of his boba. He sighed. "Fine but only because your knife video did so well."
"Thank you," I said with a small smile.
Techno grinned and plucked his phone out. I heard a notification a few minutes after. I checked to see that the transaction was completed.
"See, I can be nice. Don't forget this moment," Techno said with a wink.
I smiled. "I won't." I licked my lips and smirked at him. "By the way, you look cute today."
Like an anime schoolgirl, his face colored three shades of pink. He snatched the paper fanning him and hid his face behind it. It was really that easy.
School had ended faster than it should've. My next order of business was to take Porsche shopping. I really didn't want to waste my afternoon babysitting, but I stupidly agreed to it. I didn't know what spirit possessed me to be charitable. Under normal circumstances, I'd have walked away. But for some reason, this strong magnetic force had tugged me in his direction and refused to stop until I gave in.
Antsy, I waited for Porsche near the library. I checked my watch twice. He was a few minutes late. Go figure.
Peering up at the burning sky, the shade of baby-blue was melting into blends of creamy oranges, whimsical yellows, and fierce reds. A hint of violet crept its way into the mix. Puffy marshmallows scattered across and hid the subsiding sun.
I drew out a smooth breath and peeked back at the campus. From my opposite end, I saw a blurry, bronzed figure staggering towards me. It was the first time I had seen Porsche outside of his uniform. His taste was what I'd expect. He wore black skinny jeans and a tight-fitting designer shirt. This time, he was smart enough to wear sensible, brown shoes.
In comparison, I dressed like his grandfather. I wore a pair of dark green slacks, a white dress shirt that was halfway unbuttoned, and a slender, brown belt. The classy flair of the mid-1900's always caught my interest. I took pride in my fashion.
His gaze swept my body as his visuals came closer in frame. Tilting his head, Porsche curiously asked, "Are you seeing someone after this?"
I tucked my chin down and examined my outfit. It wasn't as if I was wearing a tie or a pocket square. "No. Why?"
With a subtle smile, Porsche shrugged and crossed his arms over his chest. "You're all dressed up."
"This is how I normally dress," I explained.
Porsche frowned and slightly popped his hip out. "You don't have a date after this?"
"This isn't a date?" I asked innocently.
He raised his eyebrows and blushed. As a sneaky smirk crept on my face, he nudged my arm. "Shut up."
We made our way off campus and decided to shop at the mall nearby. No matter my assertion that his foot would suffer from the walking, he insisted that he'd be fine. Yes, he was walking funny to avoid stepping on his injury, but he was perfectly fine with long distances.
The mall was much larger than I expected, towering four stories high and filled with hundreds of stores. Groups of busy people flocked to trendy stores and technology boutiques. Porsche and I walked to the electronic map filled with too many names of places I was hoping he didn't want to go to.
Quietly, Porsche scanned the lists and mumbled to himself.
"Is there any brand you like?" I asked.
"Not one you can afford," he said smugly.
I glared. He wasn't wrong.
Taking five minutes too long, I hunted for potential stores he'd like.
A bra store didn't seem like what we needed. Neither did jewelry stores and children's clothes seem appropriate. Boldly lit with a white-neon sign, a flashy store with a dark interior and street apparel seemed to be calling Porsche's name. I envisioned finding his entire outfit in that place.
I tapped on his shoulder and pointed. "How about there?"
Porsche turned and nodded approvingly. I followed behind him as he made his way to the store next to the one I suggested. Even when I was buying him shoes, he wanted to spite me.
Inside was a modern white design with black leather chairs seated at the front and rows of shoes lined in the back. The latest rap songs were blaring through the speakers, almost making my eardrums pop. Multiple couples with brightly dyed hair gathered in different areas to try on the ugliest pairs of shoes imaginable. Who wanted to put orange polka dots on their feet?
Porsche jogged to the left wall of the store and glanced for a pair that caught his eye. Begrudgingly, I stuck to his side and searched for anything I thought he'd like. Spikes and roses didn't seem to grab his attention.
Passing by an array of shoes, he finally picked up a pair of cherry-red sneakers with gold wrapping the heels.
"Aren't those a little loud?" I asked.
Porsche examined the shoe carefully and shook his head. Then, he bent down to the boxes beneath to locate his size.
Shoe after shoe, and this was the most boring interaction I had with him. I almost preferred our arguments. I felt like a boyfriend going shoe shopping with his girlfriend. Did straight men always deal with this? Figuring this was going to take a while, I situated myself in the chairs by the front. After staring at social media for so long, I thought it was best if I left him.
I went back to him. Porsche was trying on a pair of shoes that were much more his style. They were black and had a thin, horizontal stripe on both sides. The laces were matte-black and rested in little bows. His left shoe was loosely tied, and I could tell the lace was about to come undone.
"Message me when you're ready to pay," I said.
I crouched down to fix his shoelace. How did he expect to be the best bodyguard when he was tripping over his shoelaces?
Porsche frowned. "I don't have your Line."
Right. I didn't want him to have it either.
"I'll be at the food court. Come over to me when you're done, and I'll pay you back," I said.
"Just wait here," Porsche insisted.
"I'm hungry, and I can only look at your feet for so long." To make my point clearer, my stomach growled on command. "If I finish before you do, then I'll come back," I assured him.
Porsche hesitated. "How do I know you won't ditch me?"
I double knotted his laces and securely tied them. I stood up and brushed my knees off. "If I planned on ditching you, why would I invite you here in the first place?"
"Because you're a dick."
Was name-calling his response to everything?
I was too tired for this. "Okay, well this dick is hungry, so he's going to eat," I said in a patient tone.
"Wait, I think I'll get these." Porsche waddled in place for a moment.
"Are you sure? You can't change your mind. I'll only buy you shoes once," I warned.
He jumped shortly on his good foot and nodded. "Yep. I like these."
I watched him place his old shoes in the box. We went to the cash register, and I paid. They were a few hundred baht out of my price range, but I thought it was worth it to shut him up.
We started to walk out. As we made our way to the food court, I noticed a pair of familiar faces in black masks. I just couldn't recognize exactly who they were. I needed to watch my guard more.
Porsche stepped closer to me. "Do you know those people?" he asked.
I shook my head. "No."
It wasn't entirely a lie. I didn't know them...for now.
"I swear they've been following us," Porsche said.
"Must be coincidence," I said.
Porsche eyed them wearily. "Weird."
"You're weird. Let's grab a bite before we leave. I'm starving."
Porsche and I continued. Subtly, I checked behind to see the suspicious duo follow us. As concerned as I was, I couldn't tell Porsche anything. He would've asked questions.
The black hats hovering over their faces made it impossible for me to decipher their features. There was only one way I was going to uncover their identities, and I wasn't going to like it.