A Beautiful Trap

8:00 AM—just in time.

Bass walked into the classroom and noticed Godt already sitting on his chair. Timidly, he approached his seat. Godt didn't say a word when he passed him by.

"Godt must be angry still," he thought to himself. When classes began, Bass tried to steal a glance in his seatmate's direction. He caught him steadily focused on the instructor's lessons. Godt had a stern look on his face but was still handsome as hell. Had he always had such a manly neck? His hair was partially wet. Did he wake up late today? That perfectly chiseled nose and spotless cheeks, are pimples too embarrassed to show up on them? Bass wondered curiously.

"Bass..." a voice echoed from afar.

"Bass..." repeated the same voice, only it was louder.

"Bass Thamrongnawasawat!"

"YES MA'AM?!" Bass stood up in surprise.

"The lesson is found on your study sheets, not on Godt's face,"

The whole class burst into laughter. Bass crawled back in his seat. "Lupa, kainin mo na ako!" (I wish the earth would just swallow me whole!) he mumbled to himself as he lifts up the sheets to cover his face so no one could stare him in the eye. He closed his eyes and slapped the paper on his forehead. "Ano ba Bass?! Ang tanga mo!" (God Bass! Why are you so stupid?!) he groaned to himself.

A shot of thunderbolt spiraled down to his spine. He forgot about Godt! He turned his head slowly towards Godt's direction, and to his surprise—or no surprise actually—Godt was staring back at him equally stumped as well.

He held up his study sheets again and slapped his face out of Godt's view.

Bass endured the next three hours of the class under Professor Noi Wattasana. The same instructor who called him out for not paying attention to her lecture on Thai Folkloric Studies. When it was time for a lunch break, Bass immediately gathered all his belongings and hurriedly walked out of the classroom.

Twirling his spoon inside his bowl of shrimp soup, Bass kept on remembering the embarrassing incident back in their classroom. He remembered exactly the shock look on Godt's face as he stared back at him. "What's going on with me?" Bass grumbled inside his head, slamming his face on the table of the school cafeteria. He went on and on, repeating short, quick slamming motions until one hand scooped his forehead out of the table and dragged him to an upright position.

"You're going to dent the table with your head," said the familiar voice. "Do you want to break your head and bleed out?"

"I could use that, or an amnesia would be nice," Bass answered with an affirmative tone. The voice laughed as he heard his reply.

Bass pulled the voice's hand away from his eyes and looked up. Godt welcomed him with a smile.

"Tangina!" (Fuck me!) Bass exclaimed helplessly. "Not him?" he thought to himself. He was not ready to face Godt, let alone prepare an excuse why he was staring at him earlier. Godt moved over to the other side of the table and sat down across from him.

"What is it? I'm trying to eat my lunch" Bass acted in defense, deliberately acting as if there was nothing that needed to be discussed. Godt took a peek over his soup bowl and noticed that it was not even touched. Moreover, his bowl was a hot mess and almost at the edge of the table.

"Are you trying to eat your lunch away from you or you trying to drop it on the floor?" Godt asked teasingly.

"Shut up," Bass said.

Godt smirked and pulled a box of dumplings from his paper bag. Using a pair of chopsticks, he transferred two pieces from his plate to Bass's bowl. "Eat up," he said. "We only have 30 minutes left before the next class,"

Bass felt shy with Godt's rather thoughtful gesture. He continued eating his own food while occasionally looking over the trees in the field fronting the school cafeteria.

"Thanks," Bass murmured.

Face to face, they ate their lunch together. Not a word was spoken to each other for some time. Only occasional glances were secretly taken here and there.

Bass pulled out from his bag a can of soft drink. He placed it on the table and slightly moved it forward in Godt's direction.

"What's this?"

"Peace offering..."

Godt was surprised, but he eventually managed to smile. He took the drink and popped it open. Godt downed his first drink in two gulps. Then he hacked a good breath out and said, "Thank you!"

Bass felt his cheeks warm up as Godt cast his enchanting smile again. His heart skipped a beat once more. Every time Godt does that cheerful look, Bass couldn't help but feel oddly fuzzy inside. Not long after, he noticed that he's feeling all too happy about it, so he cleared his throat and propped his head straight. "Uhm... let's go(?)" he muttered and started moving out of the table.

The class went on for 3 more hours, and Bass struggled desperately for the entire time. He had to keep up with the language barrier as well as the lessons and topics being discussed. His instructors would occasionally code-switch between English and Thai. Some have completely forgotten that he was there, optimally speaking Thai throughout the entire session. Apart from the academics, Bass had to balance, a new problem has arisen. Everyone in class now teases him over Godt.

"Turn your modules to page 35," said the professor.

Bass flipped the leaves of his book to page 35 and looked up towards the instructor. But instead of meeting fellow heads anchored towards the teacher's direction, several faces were instead locked at his corner with smiles that are all full of amusement and teasing. They were waiting for Bass again, not to look at the module, but instead on his seatmate's drop-dead gorgeous face.

"Shit!" Bass then cower behind the open module on this desk.

"Why are you all looking at Bass?" inquired the instructor.

"Ooohh, Professor Jao. Bass likes the new student Godt!" Anon exclaimed teasingly, and everyone in class chorused a cheesy tune of "OOOOIIII!!"

Bass sank deeper on his seat. Godt felt uncomfortable as well, but he wasn't fidgeting or melting to the ground like Bass. But all the same, he doesn't know how to react to the joke.

"That's enough! Anon you better focus on your studies or I'll have you do a re-take of the course!" said the professor and brought the whole class again back to the lesson.

Godt looked down on Bass, who was still slumped on his seat, covered with the module.

From a short glimpse, he sensed Bass was somehow on the verge of tears.

Godt felt sorry if there was only a way to take Bass out of the situation.

* * * *

"Tangina! 'Bat ba ko naiiyak?!" (Fuck! Why am I tearing up over this?!) Bass grumbled inside his head. He wanted to snap out of it, but he felt like he was trapped in the situation. If he were to retaliate in any way, it would make matters worse. The embarrassing feeling felt like he was drawn back to his high school days. Right at the moment, when everyone found out about his secret. Everybody poked fun of him and would tease him over Liam. Other times it would simply be a shower of insults over the fact that he liked boys. He never appreciated the attention he got. He never liked the idea of him being poked fun about his vulnerability.

All those memories were traumatizing. Bass didn't want to remember any of his past student life in high school. He wanted for so long to bury them in the deepest trenches of his forgotten memories.

One of the reasons he eventually agreed on studying at New Siam was that no one from his school would rationally enroll in the institution. Everyone else was expected to continue their studies in Philippine universities. This was a safe choice for him. He didn't want any familiar face to come across while he's trying to finish college. He will live a life of anonymity and enigma from everyone in New Siam. He will refuse all attempts of connection and companionship, simply fading away in the background when he graduates. However, with the current state of things, it seems like he was drawn back to the same story again.

"Bat ba to nangyayari sakin?" (Why is this happening to me?) he asked himself, tears still holding for dear life over his waterline. "I was supposed to live a low-key life, simply walk in and out of class without getting noticed. I don't want any kind of unwarranted connections among people. I'm fine by my own!" thought Bass in aggravating silence.

The plan was so simple. Bass only wanted to get the degree, or at least try to get it, and then fly across the South China Sea towards this foreign country where his mother and father lived. He will leave no trace behind and forget everything about his adolescent life in the Philippines.

As Bass kept on introspecting, he eventually realized the root of the problem; and there was only one solution to absolutely get him out of the shit hole he's in.

* * * *

"Mr. Pong, I take everything back. I want no part anymore to deal with Godt anymore," he said.

Mr. Pong was curious. "Why the sudden change? What's wrong?"

"Well… things are getting out of hand. Truth is, I'm no good at helping people, and now..."

"Now what?"

"My classmates are poking fun of me. They think I'm i-interested with Godt,"

Mr. Pong burst into laughter. He kept on cracking until he noticed Bass remained stern and unmoved.

"Oh, you're serious," he quipped and readjusted his spectacles.

"You shithead I am dead serious!" he cursed under his breath.

"What's that?" Mr. Pong chirped after hearing Bass mumble unintelligibly.

"N-Nothing!" Bass immediately dismissed in response.

"Well if that's the case, then who can replace you?" Mr. Pong replied.

"Is that my problem?" Bass retorted in a high-pitched tone.

"You have anyone in mind?"

Bass wasn't able to drop a name. He does not know anyone in the class except for the douchebag transfer student. Not a single soul in the room was Bass able to acquaint himself with. Only then had he realized how much of an introvert he was, almost bordering to an anti-social sponge on a sea of extroverted sharks. Perhaps he can be likened to a mountain hermit, inexplicably finding bliss in isolation. But in any case, he was as much of a stranger as Godt was.

"Alright, here's what we're going to do," Mr. Pong explained. "When you have someone in mind, come back to me and I'll make the arrangements," Mr. Pong said and smiled amicably.

At that point, Bass had no choice but to concede on his terms. He will just have to find someone who can stand in for him. As he left the International Relations Department, his mind began scouting for candidates. "What about those girls eyeing on Godt? they can do the work!" he said to himself. But as soon as Bass received the thought, his mind began to ask another question. Since when did he notice those girls treating Godt like eye candy? He never had any time or interest to observe other people before. Remembering it now, Bass recalled how their lips stretch out broadly and how flirtatiously their eyes stare at Godt. The imagery was all too sensual for him. Bass suddenly felt his blood rushed up a few degrees higher. "They're too flirtatious and unbecoming!" he protested to himself and quickly shot down the idea.

"What about that group of the less pretty ones and queer folk? They seemed very jealous at the idea of me helping Godt get around the campus and the city," he uttered in soliloquy. "They might want it" The other day, the said group kept buzzing around asking Bass why on earth was Godt, tailing—if not walking side by side—with him. He had to spend an hour or so explaining to them about the task given by Mr. Pong. "I'm simply babysitting Godt until he's okay on his own," he answered in utter exasperation.

Bass thought about the said flock of wild, probably virgin hens together with Godt. Suddenly the scene went rather malicious inside his mind. Godt was trapped in the arms of the desperate chickens... cackling a sinister laugh like they're about to undress a banana and swallow it whole. Godt was screaming out to him, his hand stretched out desperately to reach him.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" Bass jerked in his seat as he shook his head off from his midday nightmare. "That was bizzare," he thought to himself. "I better not. I might not get an ounce of peace if I'd turn the poor soul to those hungry concubines". Bass always had a way with insulting words, a talent he picked up after growing tired of people and eventually despising human interaction.

Bass slapped his face with his right palm in utter hopelessness. As much as he ached for freedom from being a tour guide-slash-nanny to Godt, he simply cannot pass him over like some spare bone to be feasted by wild dogs. Troublesome as it may seem, but he has to look for someone who can do the job and not end up either raping the guy or getting impregnated by the guy.

"Ugh! I wanna quit school already!" he howled frustratingly to himself.