Chapter 8: CHAPTER SEVEN

Thame adjusted his seat to sit more comfortably before speaking.

“That day, there were a lot of cameras, and one of them caught you. It’s proof that you’re a fan sneaking into work here. I don’t have many options for you—either you resign voluntarily, or I’ll take this footage,” he said, pulling a thumb drive out of his pocket, “and give it to Khun Pemika to have you fired.”

Po realized that during the hour and fifteen minutes Thame had kept him waiting, he had been gathering evidence to kick him out.

“Thame, listen to me. It’s not what you think.”

“Then who was it that day, if not you? How much information have you collected about my band?” Thame asked, stepping closer to Po.

“Thame, it’s not like that. I can explain. I’m not a fan, really—”

“I don’t think you need to explain to me. Go explain to Khun Pemika instead.” Thame snatched the camera from Po’s hands.

Po looked at his now-empty hands and then at Thame, who gestured for his employee ID. Was he really about to be fired by someone like this?

“Hand it over. My band doesn’t need to have its name dragged through the mud by a sasaeng like you. I didn’t build this band for people like you to ruin it.”

Po froze at Thame’s final words.

“What are you staring at?”

“It’s funny,” Po replied, making Thame frown.

“You say you don’t want the band’s name tarnished, and that you didn’t build this band for someone like me to ruin it. But the truth is, you’re the one destroying it yourself, aren’t you?”

“What did you just say?”

“Don’t act like you’re protecting the band’s reputation. You just don’t want your own name tarnished. You’re afraid I’ll find out just how selfish you are. You’re the kind of person who, as soon as you’re more successful than everyone else, can’t see that the people you’ve left behind have feelings too.

You don’t care how they feel. You’re just a selfish person who values your own success over the people who’ve walked the same path with you.”

Po knew this better than anyone. Thame was no different from Earn. The other band members were no different from himself—left behind, discarded, and eventually consumed by the world. Even when they tried to stand again, people like Thame would just drag them back under.

“Tell me something, honestly. How could you do it? How could you just leave behind the people who’ve been with you for so many years, take care of yourself, and not care at all about what they’ve done for you? Do you even realize how much what you’re doing makes the people you leave behind wonder why they ever wasted so many years with you in the first place?” Po stared directly at Thame and delivered the final blow. “You’re unbelievably selfish.”

“You have no right to say that when you know nothing about me.”

“Oh, I know exactly the kind of person you are. And I know how much it hurts to be left behind.”

“And do you think the person doing the leaving doesn’t hurt too?” Thame snapped back, his voice trembling, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“Do you think it’s been easy to get to this point? Sure, it’s easier for the people left behind to understand their pain. But the ones who have to leave?

They hurt just as much.”

Thame finished his words and walked away, leaving Po standing there, numb and speechless.

—

Po stood quietly at his desk. He had no camera, no ID card—nothing.

Baifern texted him, asking how his first day had gone. Did he have anything exciting to share? Had he met the members of Mars yet? Were they as charming as they appeared on screen? Were they close? Had he met her favorite, Pepper, yet? Po had no answers for her.

Right now, the only question filling his mind wasn’t about Mars. It was about Thame’s last words before walking away.

—

“Hey,” Po called Baifern. “Can you tell me how much it hurts to leave someone behind?”

“What are you talking about? Did Earn say something to you?”

“No, it’s not about him. Someone said it, and now I’m curious.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Baifern replied. “But if you’re so curious, why don’t you ask the person who said it? I’m sure they’d have an answer.”

Po lowered his gaze. She was right. If he wanted to know, he should ask directly.

“By the way,” Baifern’s voice came through the phone. “Who was it?”

Po didn’t answer. Instead, he started looking for Thame. He searched the practice rooms, the parking lot, and the office’s recreation areas, but Thame was nowhere to be found. Finally, he noticed an open fire exit door and followed it to the rooftop.

—

Bangkok’s skyline surrounded the rooftop, city lights glowing like a bokeh backdrop. Po saw Thame standing alone, holding both his camera and ID card. He was watching something on the camera—footage Po had taken earlier of the other band members during their break.

The screen showed moments of Jun, Dylan, Pepper, and Nano, all captured with care. A small smile formed on Thame’s face, soft and unguarded, unlike the Thame Po had encountered all day. His eyes glistened, and tears began to fall as Nano’s laughter played from the camera.

The sound of Po’s footsteps caught Thame’s attention. He quickly wiped his tears and turned to Po.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Po began, but Thame cut him off.

“Tell me honestly. Are you a fan or a sasaeng?”

“Neither. I might have taken a job from a fan once, and yeah, I went to one of your events.

But only once, and I didn’t think you’d even remember.”

Thame looked away and replied, “You’re different.”

Po blinked, unsure what he meant. “Different how?”

“That day, when everyone was filming, you were the only one not holding a camera,” Thame said. Po recalled the event and realized it was true. Even though he’d gone to replace Baifern, at the crucial moment when he saw the band members clearly, he had lowered the camera to lift a smaller fan beside him so they could see better.

“Right… but I’m not a fan or a sasaeng. Really.”

“Then keep working,” Thame said, handing the camera and ID back to Po with surprising ease. Po was stunned. Just a moment ago, Thame had been ready to fire him.

“What?”

“You’re good at your job.” Thame smiled faintly, an expression of admiration that caught Po off guard. He didn’t understand this young man, so talented and striking. Was he the same person who had glared at Po for handing him the wrong bottle of water, or the one silently crying under the city lights?

“If I’m going to keep working,” Po said, meeting Thame’s eyes directly, “the person I want to know most is you. Who are you, really?”

Thame looked back at him with an unreadable expression. “If it’s just for work, you don’t need to know,” he replied before turning to leave.

But Po grabbed his arm and asked boldly, “What if it’s not just for work?

Can I get to know you then?”

TO B CONTINUED.