Porchay never had felt this self conscious of his sadness than the moment he was in the crowd. He couldn't officially go in the middle of it, to protect him. It would be too easy to attack the boy, so he was sat at the bestest place, with two bodyguards on each side. It was not normal, it wasn't a simple concert but it was more than he could ever hope for. Porchay was poor. Poor in a money way, poor because of their debts, it was an adjective and some words explaining it all. But he was way more than this, he was a brother studying hard and witnessing his own family work to exhaustion just to survive. It was mentally so hard to continue but he couldn't stop for Porsche and he had a great emotional support : Wik.
Wik had been the one to sit next to him when he was alone, crying, when everything felt wrong, he had been the one he talked to and to send comfort. Metaphorically, far away from Porchay. Wik was an artist but he was more than this, he was a whole heaven, he was a soft cloud to cuddle on when under, on earth, his battles were too hard.
Food was needed to survive.
Water was needed to survive.
A house was needed to survive.
Wik was needed.
Wik was so needed to help him. It could be seen as crazy, Porchay didn't care, Wik was an artist which was bringing so much light in his life.
And yet he couldn't reach him. He couldn't even think about reaching him.
A concert cost money.
Porchay had no money.
However, Wik was a necessity for his mental health.
He couldn't afford it.
The boy always thought that everything was judged too quickly, partying, going to concerts, buying books, everything was considered as something which wasn't perfect to survive when it was a huge part. Humans weren't made to eat and drink, they were made to either create or absorb the creation to create themselves something in their life. Wik was this for Porchay, he was a strength for his everydays, he was needed as much as food or water, it wouldn't give him the physical element for his body to work, but it would nourish his soul and soothe his wounded hearts, giving him hope.
He couldn't afford it. He couldn't and even if he would have gone, he would have felt bad for going, using that precious money. His heart was made of pretty diamonds for Wik but it wouldn't nourish Wik either, he needed money, and the vicious circle would only remind Porchay how this world was about money and power. He hated it.
Even more now that he was sitting with such privilege. Even more now that he could imagine another Porchay at home, another boy or girl or human watching every glimpse on their phone, if they had one, on the internet, if they had it, because it was only what they could get. Not bad but not too good, why them and not me, this sentence rotting in his mind.
His heart clenched when he thought about the day he had witnessed Porsche having such a weird face. Porsche had such a complicated expression and then he closed the laptop, the precious one they had, to go outside. Porchay had looked at it discreetly and his eyes were teary. His Hia was looking at the prince for a Wik concert, in a small place, not a big thing and it was still way more than they could afford. It broke him to see that even his Hia was trying to make him happy without thinking of himself first and he was also warm, because he was so loved.
Porchay wasn't a poor boy in the end, he wasn't less than anyone, he just didn't have a lot of money, and this world would make him everydays of his condition.
But Porchay never gave up on hope, because Wik was still living and making art, because he could create a shrine on his desk for him, because whatever if he was never close to the stage, Wik always had sweet words for everyone, he wasn't less of a fan.
When Wik came to his school he was over the moon, it was so unreal, it looked unreal. And it made him think that Wik wasn't on a cloud, he was on earth too, a human and one day he might be able to be closer to that stage.
And now he was a VIP, he was more than this, he was even in Kim's bed, knowing better what was in Wik's songs, understanding that the pain he was feeling, the emotions he was drowning into were close to the distress he saw in Kim. And he could get him, it might have been why he couldn't let go. Kim might have lied and manipulated him, he looked more like a terrified cat playing the confident card than anything else. Porchay hoped that he could help Kim to see that Wik wasn't another side, he was him too, he was part of him mixed with Kim, and he shouldn't act as if the world couldn't accept his two sides at the same time.
He was here. He suddenly focused on the lights shining, and the screams, Wik appeared. His Kim was in front of the mic, smiling, looking exactly the same as on the pictures he had looked for hours. He was so gorgeous, not physically, just being himself and expressing his artistic hearts.
Gorgeous. So gorgeous. Porchay's heart was so bright, he even forgot that Kim was behind, Wik was in front of him and he had that smile, this was worth the prettiest painting smile and it looked soft, so mesmerising, way more than Kim's life.
Porchay began to have tears in his eyes, cries of a fan, able to be here and as close as possible to the stage. And other tears were for Kim, the smallest one he knew who was terrified and somehow fighting his own family. He was like every other human. This was something that the boy could easily forget, unfortunately, too focused on the distance from his artist, something about this one being just a human. Having struggles. Having problems. Having a past and a future. Having wounds, and yet still shining so bright. If Wik could shine, and if he could help Kim to shine, Porchay might shine too, helped by Wik first and now Kim. Kim. He loved him so much.
Nothing was perfect, no one was only admirable, no one could win at everything, no one was immaculate and it hurt but it also gave relief to Porchay. They were the same, breathing, eating and drinking humans.
His hips waved, the screams were loud. It looked like nothing Porchay could expect and at the same time he had a feeling that it was going on exactly as it should. He was kinda lost between the moment and the present, his chest beating to the rhythm of the songs but his heart not realising that he was here. And everything went back to the dark. People walked away and Porchay thought that they might miss this time, they might feel about it with nostalgia but they also gathered so much happiness, and he hoped that they could see the good in what they lived.
He had a boyfriend to come home to.
-
The bodyguards didn't talk to him at all and Porchay was glad because he had no energy for this. Everything, every thought, this concert, the lights, he was exhausted. And he had one thing pulling on his heart, a heavy need he felt since he had thought about Wik and Kim together.
Porchay opened the door of Kim's artist room, he was sitting on the sofa, full of sweat, resting his body. Kim put all of his attention on Porchay when he saw the door opening but he had no chance in talking or moving, his boyfriend straddling his laps. Porchay hugged him tightly, surprising Kim who slowly hugged him.
"Chay? Are you okay?"
Porchay let some cries be heard, he couldn't control them now, and the heaviness was too strong, and it needed to be thrown into Kim's heart.
Porchay pulled away, a mess, and observed Kim, his Kim, his Wik too, his man, he loved him so much.
"I love you..." Porchay whispered, blushing and wondering if he had to do this now, if it was a great decision.
Kim was even more breathless, staring at Porchay before his face softened. His first reflex wasn't to talk but to act. He needed to share what he felt, he needed to get physically out of his brain what he was burning under. He pushed the boy lower to kiss him, exchanging some deep lips, passionately reacting to words which would have terrified him some weeks ago but felt like the sweetest drink now, Porchay's mouth as an answer, and those words, pronounced when he pulled away, as precious jewellery. The one they would give their best to never lose or break.
"Chay...I love...you too..." Kim murmured tenderly and Porchay smiled, warm tears falling on his cheeks, and he hugged Kim again.
Their emotions exploding into that quiet room.
"Chay, are you okay?" Kim asked, after some minutes.
"Better..." Porchay smiled, sitting next to Kim.
"Did something happen?" He asked again, his hand on his neck, caressing it slowly with his thumb.
"A lot...I guess that I was emotional to see Wik...I was also emotional to see Kim behind..."
"Well, one is better than the other." Kim laughed but Porchay pouted, not agreeing.
"No...both need the other to be alive...you are the same P'Kim...I love you, and in this "you", there is Kim and Wik..."
"That's...thank you..."
"You were so good !" Porchay screamed suddenly with the biggest smile.
Kim giggled lightly. "You talk as if it was your first time."
"First, it will always feel like a first time. Second, if you didn't go to your ancient school...I would have never been able to see you anytime soon..."
"Money?"
Porchay nodded, his body still overwhelmed. He snuggled close against Kim who wrapped his arms against the boy.
"P'Kim...luck is really something weird...some people looks like having it all...but they might have so much more struggles...not to be compared at all...I was always thinking that they had so much luck to be able to see you...but it doesn't mean that their life is better....and it seems like there is no right answer...and some people have more luck, and some work hard for it...and it is how it is..."
"My wet t-shirt got you to think of all of this ?" Kim asked, kissing his forehead.
"You have a problem with that?" Porchay menaced him with his lowest tone which still felt too soft.
"Ahah, of course no...I like to hear you talk...always..."
"I prefer this..." Porchay played, giving a small elbow slap against Kim's stomach.
"That was close to...nothing at all." Kim mocked him.
"You!"
"You can't do anything against my muscles." Kim continued with a proud smile.
"Wait until I get some too..." Porchay said grumpily.
"Ooohhh interesting..." Kim began to point at Porchay's arm's muscles. "I would like to be your trainer..."
"It can be organised..." Porchay smiled, turning his head and pecking Kim briefly.
He loved him and he loved him too. They loved each other so much.
A knocking separated them. Kim answered, rolling his eyes when he saw his cousin. His family was always in his way. The boy put his hand on Porchay's thighs, near them he always had the need to shield Porchay.
"Porchay...Kittisawat...I wondered which brother would like to first win me on their side." Macau greeted them, leaning against the door he had just closed.
Porchay might have been right. The most calm and innocent ones might be full of surprise.