THE RACE AGAINST TIME.
Sarawat exhaled tiredly, white smoke pooling between his curved, sultry lips. He was crouching on his tiny balcony, feet bare and back pressed against the flat, cold concrete wall that kept him grounded. His gaze was dark and heavy as he stared angrily out into space, brows angled sharply across his smooth forehead, brown hair messy from the many times he had agitatedly run his hands through it. Sarawat pinched the cigarette between his index finger and thumb as he raised one hand to his mouth, taking another shaky drag and then exhaling deeply, sadly. The cigarette smoke curled lazily upwards and then away, fading out into the sky just like Tine.
Tine was gone.
Tine was fucking gone and Sarawat had never felt so alone, not even when the glass house that was the relationship with his family had started crumbling. That motorcycle accident, where Phukong had taken Sarawat's bike for a ride in a sudden bout of rebellion, had surely ripped their picture perfect family further apart and now it appeared that maybe the accident had ripped apart several other things too, like his is possible bond with Tine.
With Tine gone it felt as if a vital part of Sarawat's body was gone as well. His heart. But also his love and happiness too, the things that Tine now embodied within Sarawat's lethargic world, temporarily making it a more vibrant place to be. Music, as Sarawat's first love, did not even compare to the complexity of his feelings when his mind brushed against the mere thought of Tine stored away for safekeeping inside the folds of his deepest core. The fair skinned young man shone like a fiery beacon inside his mind. Tine was everything. He was life. He was love. And yet, Sarawat had not been able to tell Tine that he loved him too.
Sarawat's whole body felt strangely numb ever since he woke up to the empty, obviously soulless room where all colors seemed grey. Maybe it was from fatigue and the abundance of emotional stress, or maybe it was because Tine had drained him of energy far more than any of them had even realized. And honestly, Sarawat would give anything just to keep Tine longer by his side, see the light shine in his beautiful brown eyes for a little while longer. Except, Tine had made the painful decision for the both of them instead, graciously restoring the order back into the world by leaving the place where he was not meant to be. He was just too good for this world. And obviously Sarawat did not deserve such beauty, especially if his brother had contributed to Tine's demise, then karma would certainly not be on his side.
Shit. Sarawat tugged at the ends of his messy hair with one callused hand. Think. Think, you moron.
Could the dead be raised from their ashes? Was there an actual way to bring Tine back from the other side? He was ready to go any lengths just to bring Tine's lost soul back and if not, then so be it, Sarawat would just follow him beyond the veil. He was not afraid of dying, not now when he had already glimpsed the world beyond. Evidently, it was still possible to maintain a bizarre type of life even if one was dead. They could be undead together.
For a tiny moment bulky clouds shielded the midday sun and a dark, crooked shadow fell over Sarawat's face, giving the young man an eerie, devilish appearance as his thoughts strayed further from the right path. It was a divine warning. But just as quick, the sun peeked right back out from behind the cottony billows.
Sarawat blinked furiously into the bright sunlight, glossy eyelashes lumped together as he wiped the back of his hand harshly over his face. Shit. When had he become so pathetic? He remembered consciously crying only two times in his life before meeting Tine, once when he threw a childish fit when his parents announced that he was going to be a big brother and the second time when the only grandparent that he had been fortunate to meet had passed away, all the others passing before he was even born. Except now he could barely put a lid on his emotions, getting all mushy and soft hearted all because of that insufferable nuisance that made Sarawat feel all the more human than he ever was. A sad, little smile fluttered over his curvy lips as a shining image of Tine flashed inside his mind's eye, salty teardrops glistening on Sarawat's lashes as the corners of his eyes crinkled humorlessly.
Sarawat then threw his head back with a ragged, wet breath, banging his head against the wall painfully as he stared owlishly into the sky, looking for answers. The cigarette was forgotten, pinched between his fingertips, dropping ignited ashes to the floor while its tendrils of smoke rose forlornly into the air. He had to find out how Tine had died.
Sarawat's frown deepened as a thought filtered through his mind. Tine had claimed that he had haunted Sarawat so that he could confess to him. The confession had been Tine's goodbye, of sorts. So had Sarawat been Tine's unfinished business? Huh.
Except unfinished business had not been on the list of Natty's rules that proclaimed the three reasons why deceased souls still lingered in the living world. Was this then an exception to the rules? Although wait a minute. According to Natty these things always followed a strict pattern so this did not really make any sense. Sarawat raked a shaky hand through his hair. He needed to find out the details of Tine's death himself, maybe there was a connection that he was not seeing due to lack of facts. Surely Tine must have found out how it all happened, since he had said that he had remembered everything. But what was everything, really?
Everything was relative. Their goodbye could be just as relative too. So Sarawat had to preserve, he had to stay strong, especially now when he was tipping just at the breaking point. He would not rest until he had some actual evidence that Tine was really gone. Lost to the tides of time.
Sarawat frowned, his thoughts straying to the places on Tine's list that the ghost had asked Pear to visit. Obviously Tine would have tagged along with her since she had brought their guitar pick with her at that time. The places on that list must have been important to Tine. So following that list, just a few days ago Sarawat had stood there, on that pedestrian crossing where Tine had met his end. It was undoubtedly the same place where Phukong had crashed Sarawat's motorbike last year. Although none of these events seemed to be outwardly connected, it was highly suspicious and Sarawat certainly had his doubts.
There had been no serious causalities reported when his brother lost control of the bike, at least no official ones. If there had been something big it would have exploded all over the news immediately since the affairs of their family were quite the source for gossip. The accident in itself had been a severe backlash that their mother had to parry with an iron hand and if someone had died at that time, there would have been serious repercussions. So there could only be two reasons why Tine's accident had not been explicitly connected to Phukong; either Tine had not been severely hurt, not worthy of any media attention or some key facts had been altered.
Shit.
Sarawat moaned agonizingly into his hand, biting into his own flesh to keep himself grounded with the tingle of pain rushing through his limb. What the hell was going on? This was just like a Pandora's box, getting all the more chaotic the more Sarawat rattled the box, gradually unsealing lid.
Coming out of his stupor, Sarawat glanced alertly at his cell phone on the balcony floor next to him, reaching one tanned hand to turn on the screen so that the digital watch would flash forth on the bright display.
Shit! It was time to go.
Okay, so he would do this one step at a time. It was important that he kept his head cool, Sarawat had finally concluded while spending hours on the balcony in a panicked state, desperately looking for traces of Tine.
Sarawat would first find out who was digging for information about his family, if his hunch was correct then it was most likely connected to Phukong's accident. That was the only gray zone that he had chosen not to stick his nose into too deep while going through his mother's documents, since he wanted to give his brother some semblance of privacy in their already controlled home. Step two would be talking with Tine's friends once more and maybe even getting in touch with Tine's family. There were just too many events overlapping each other, surely Sarawat was bound to find something that would point him into the right direction, bringing him closer to finding Tine.
-----
Type Aekaranwong.
Sarawat gritted his teeth, lips twisting snidely as his sharp jaw popped. Man's boyfriend had been the one to dig for information about Sarawat's family. What the fuck. Sarawat clutched harder on the handlebars of his motorcycle, knuckles going white as his chest heaved up and down with harsh breaths. Well, at least that explained Type's strange, almost hostile attitude towards him a couple of nights ago. It did however not explain why he was doing all of this. What for? Sarawat could feel that the answer to that question was just below the surface of things he was afraid to dip his toes into, afraid of the rippling consequences that would bring him to his knees. But it was unavoidable, was it not, if he wanted to bring Tine back? Finding out the truth should not be scarier than Tine actually dying, but what if those two things were synonymous with each other? Fuck.
The young man was currently sitting astride on his black motorbike after sliding with a screech into a road pocket on a side street away from the busy city. His strong, jeans clad thighs were on each side of the rumbling vehicle, one sneaker clad foot planted on the hard ground while he tried to calm the anger slowly brewing inside of him. Sarawat threw off his dark helmet agitatedly, balancing it against his thigh with one hand as he fumbled with his other hand, unzipping his leather jacket and fishing for his phone.
It had been far too easy to wheedle Type's name from the brazen intel guy, it was only a matter of dangling some other, more juicier corporate secret in front of the dude and he immediately switched his loyalties, outing Type completely. Fucking pathetic. Sarawat sneered harshly at the memory. He hoped that his mother did not have any big plans for the piece of information that Sarawat had let slip on her behalf in exchange for Type's name.
Finding his cell phone, he speed dialed Man and pressed the device to his ear, long fingers tapping against the helmet restlessly.
"Man, where does your boyfriend stay?" He asked hurriedly, there was no time for any pleasantries.
"What's going on? Why are you asking that?" Man replied confusedly when met with his friend's brisk non-greeting, Man's voice sounding thin over the slightly static line. "Where the hell have you been the whole day? We didn't see you at campus."
"I need to talk with Type," Sarawat replied through his teeth while ignoring all the other questions, the steel frame of the phone digging into his palm as he clutched the device harder in his hand. The storm inside of Sarawat was starting to slowly brew out of proportions, his emotions running amok the longer he had to wait for the final truth. The longer he had to wait until he could be reunited with Tine. He just hoped it would not be at a graveyard.
"Hey, are you okay?" Man asked worriedly and when Sarawat remained pointedly quiet except for breathing harshly into the phone, Man hurried to add as the good friend that he was, "Wat, chill, dude. I'll text you his address but you need to promise not to do anything stupid. You seem kinda angry."
"You think?" Sarawat hissed. Nonetheless he inhaled, trying to put a rein on his agitated emotions.
There was not use taking this out on Man, surely he could not have known what Type had been up to. Or? Doubt overshadowed his reason, making fury simmer just below his skin. Sarawat was like a mad dog with a bone, not sure what to do with it but snaring at anyone that dared to approach him. The strange bubble of Tine's mystery was just about to burst, he could feel it in the buzzing air around him and the impatience only riled him up even further.
"Uh- Sorry, Man," Sarawat said with a shaky sigh finally. "I just need to talk with him about something so just text me Type's address. Don't worry, I'm not gonna jump him or anything."
"Okay," Man replied a little pensively, not fully convinced. "Do you need me to tag long with you?
"No, it's fine. I'll behave," Sarawat replied wryly before they said their quick goodbye and hung up.
Almost immediately Sarawat's phone buzzed with an incoming Line message, the impending vibrations first crawling like tiny ants all over his palm and then spreading rapidly all over his skin like wild fire.
A dark shadow passed over his face as Sarawat's eyes trailed over the displayed text. Fuck. He hands started shaking as he recognized the address from Tine's list. This was a cozy villa neighborhood in the farthest outskirts of the city, close to the coastal line. Sarawat had stood forlornly on the same street just some days ago under the flickering street lights, wondering how the hell that place was connected to Tine. Now he knew. Maybe.
The circle was undoubtedly closing in on itself.
-----
Type frowned as soon as he saw Sarawat standing at his door, Sarawat's deathtrap of a motorcycle was parked haphazardly behind the tall youngster just at the curved gate leading up to the house.
"Come on in then," Type greeted not too nicely with a frown on his sharp, slightly feline looking face. Sarawat clenched his teeth, curvy lips pressed together into a tiny, almost heart shaped bow. Man must have already warned his boyfriend in advance that Sarawat was on his way over, since Type did not seem particularly fazed at seeing the other one at his doorstep. Man, that fucking traitor.
The older man left the door wide open while sauntering back into the gloomy and essentially empty house, seeing as numeral moving boxes were littering the halls while miles of thick plastic wrap was covering most of the furniture that did not fit into a regular sized box. Sarawat noted on his way inside, sneakers softy squeaking over the wooden floors, that most of the lights were turned off, creating a rather bleak and eerie atmosphere inside the halls where the daylight did not reach. This place reminded him of a haunted house, unnamed things hiding in the shadows. How was Type living here all alone with all this dust and the obviously stored away memories?
"Oh, Phi! You're here too," Pear exclaimed from her perch on the grey couch in Type's living room, the only furniture that was completely void of a plastic cover, the girl's shrill voice echoing in the empty room. She had a tall glass of water placed in front of her on an opaque, plastic wrapped coffee table and her bag on the seat next to her. She was still clad in the generic university uniform that consisted of a white top and a black bottom, having gone straight to Type's house as soon as the lectures had ended.
Sarawat blinked owlishly at the young woman, coming to a halt just inside the doorway. What was Pear doing here? A cold draft of bad premonition swept below his jacket, tickling his lower back and making Sarawat shudder unwillingly as the small hairs at his nape stood on end.
"That's so great!" Pear clasped her slender hands together cheerily, eyes shinning as she was looking at the guitarist like some sort of savior. "Please help me convince P'Type!"
Sarawat's big eyes flickered confusedly to the older man standing regally not too far away from them, next to a tower of stacked, beige boxes, arms crossed resolutely over a fluffy, light colored sweater. Type's almond shaped eyes were narrowed at the other man in the room, gauging his reaction to Pear's senseless nagging. She had already been there for over an hour, trying to convince him that Tine's soul was lost, wandering the earth. He really did not like her joking about such things since they made him hope, heart aching for more.
"Convince him about what?" Sarawat asked sharply, threading carefully, his piercing gaze back on the girl as a curl of his dark bangs slid over his forehead, covering one eye.
How much did Pear know and how much did she understand of it?
It suddenly dawned on Sarawat that they had never really discussed what had actually happened with Tine that day, when he had possessed Sarawat's body. Sarawat had been so preoccupied with Tine himself that he did not even stop to think that Pear could hold the key to some of the aspects of this whole mess. Sarawat's jealousy over Tine possibly liking her had put a veil on his sensibility, clouding his judgment and completely excluding Pear from the equation as soon as there was an off chance that the ghost was infatuated with Sarawat instead.
Well, what could he really do? Sarawat shrugged mentally. So it seemed that love made Sarawat slightly stupid. He could live with that, but he would never forgive himself if it made him miss a perfect opportunity to get to Tine.
Pear gave Sarawat an exasperated look, nonchalantly flinging back a lock of her long, dark hair with a humph when the strands slipped out of the loose bun at the nape of her neck.
"P'Type needs to understand that Tine is still here. Well, not here here but at least somewhere." She gave him a reprimanding stare with a duh implied somewhere within her words, glittery eyes raking over Sarawat's tall body. "If that hadn't been a body swap then he surely must've possessed you. And according to Ohm, if he isn't just making fun of my theories, Tine has also been haunting your dorm room," she said slowly as if talking to a child, voice tingled with accusation.
Frankly, Pear was a little mad at Sarawat for keeping these things to himself. Tine was not only his to have, Sarawat should have honestly tried to talk with Tine's friends, asked them for advice instead of sneaking around.
"Well, has he, been haunting you that is?"
The girl blinked curiously at Sarawat with her round and for now, not so innocent eyes. She was small but there was fire burning within her heart.
Type too turned to stare at Sarawat with an unreadable gaze, lips pressed together harshly, fingers clutching at the crooks of his elbows while silently wondering whether these two had gone mad. Except, maybe Type was going slightly crazy too. The strange direct message that he had received from Tine's Instagram, which had made him return back to Thailand in a blink of an eye, had been eerily written in Tine's stupid text lingo, innocently asking Type where everyone had disappeared to, complaining that Type had left him behind all alone and insisting that their family should return home to bring Tine back with them.
For a few precious days Type had believed that Tine had been the one to message him, but after aimlessly spending a couple of days in their dusty old house all alone, Type started to question what the hell he was actually doing. The grief was obviously making him imagine impossible things. After all, this had been his last chance, a last excuse to plead with heir parents to hold things off for just a little while longer. Something foul and desperate coiled in Type's lower belly at these thoughts, his fingers clawing at the fluffy sweater covering his arms and curling harshly in the soft fabric. Their parents had decided to cut off Tine's life supply at the end of next week, choosing to fly Tine in from Germany to make the last arrangements for him on the soil that he had been born. His condition had been getting worse for the last couple of months and they, especially their mother who was getting seriously sick from grief and sorrow, could no longer handle seeing Tine thaw away like that.
Coincidentally enough, it seemed as if Tine had gathered all of them here purposefully. Maybe miracles could still happen even in the real world?
Something cold jolted down Sarawat's spine as he froze up in the spot where he was standing, his heart skipped over a beat as something dark and oppressive sunk over the room, layers upon layers of interwoven strings of faith stretched between them. The air was getting hot and clammy. It was getting harder to breathe and Sarawat struggled to inhale. He then blinked profoundly when the overbearing feeling passed, long lashes fluttering as he swallowed dryly.
"And why do we need to convince Type about this? What's it got do with him?" Sarawat interjected, ignoring Pear's question about whether Tine haunted his room or not. Instead, finally having reached the final point, he needed someone to confirm what he was dreading the most, he needed to hear someone say it, that his brother had killed Tine.
Pear frowned, her fine brows drawn with a furrow between them, her pink lips pouting.
"What do you mean why?" She whined, sounding completely done with this conversation even though she was the one to start it.
The girl then glanced at the older male with them, as if willing to share her exasperation over this whole situation with him but Type's features remained stiff and closed off as always. Pear huffed and rolled her eyes heavenward. These two were worse than Tine's stupid friends.
"P'Type is Tine's older brother," she supplied finally and noticing the slight astonishment ripple over Sarawat's face, her own features softened. "Oh, didn't you know that?"
Sarawat shook his head dazedly, feeling speechless when it all played out just as he supposed it would. So Type was indeed Tine's brother and he was indeed digging for information about Phukong's accident. Yes, that made sense and that was precisely what Sarawat had feared. It also explained why Sarawat could not find any coherent information about a Tine Teepakorn in any online search engines. It was as if Tine did not exist outside of his deleted Facebook profile and his deserted Instagram account. Huh. Then his full name should actually be Tine Teepakorn Aekaranwong? Not that it mattered by now.
"Why are you looking into my brother's accident from last year?" Sarawat then interjected heatedly, there was no use to hold back any longer. They had to get this over with, so might as well rip it all off quickly like a band-aid.
The air instantly grew suppressive inside the room as Type pushed away from the wall he had been leaning against, instantly standing taller and glaring daggers at Sarawat from across the room. There would have been a full blown fight right now if Pear had not been together in the room with these two stubborn people.
"Then why do you think my brother has been in a coma for the past year?"
All color drained from Sarawat's face as a tremor went through his body, making him week in the knees. Fuck. So it was true. Something horrible screeched inside his head, clawing at the walls inside his mind, tearing up his heart and leaving it there, bleeding. A gasp resonated throughout the empty room as Pear's hands flew up to cover her mouth in chock when she understood the implication of those words. Sarawat only curled his tanned hands into fists at his sides to stop himself from any rash actions. Remember, he had to stay strong.
"Is he alive?" He whispered, his wide lips trembling slightly and eyes a little glazed.
Silence. A car drove by outside.
"Is Tine alive?" Sarawat then almost shouted, eyes ablaze now and gaze clashing severely with Type's cold one from across the room, erupting into vindictive sparks between them. Type sneered, his mouth curling downwards.
"No," he muttered harshly while looking away, his eyes sad and hands shaking as he was trying to hold himself together.
What use was there in getting any of their hopes up? Tine would be dead by the end of next week and no one could save him from that. Fuck Sarawat's brother for getting Tine into this fatal accident. Fuck Sarawat's family for covering up the tracks of their own wrongdoings. Nothing mattered right now besides the fact that one precious, beautiful light would be soon extinguished forever. And it hurt so bad.
"What the hell are you saying?" Pear screeched in Type's direction, having enough of his stubbornness. The young woman swore under her breath as she jumped up to her feat, loose hair strands bouncing around her doll-like face. Pear clutched then desperately at Sarawat's upper arms, staring into his terrified eyes. "Don't believe him, okay? Tine is alive, I promise. He's in a coma but he's alive."
Sarawat completely blanked out at her words, curvy lips parting in disbelief and eyes prickling with tears of gratitude. The only thing that fluttered inside his mind was this little prayer from his late grandparent that had etched itself inside his heart, as if saved and tucked away precisely for this moment.
Thank you for this life and forgive us if we do not love it enough.
Fun fact:
According to BL wiki Tine's last name is apparently Aekaranwong, while Teepakorn is his first name. Did any of you know that? ◉_◉