A Nameless Moment

In the vast, cold bedroom of Ying, the ticking of the wall clock echoed faintly through the still night. He lay on his side on the large bed, eyes blankly fixed on the ceiling. In his hand was a half-empty bottle of liquor — his throat burned, but he kept bringing it to his lips.

Jay's words still rang in his ears, loud and piercing, drilling deep into every corner of his mind.

-"Do you know how much I hate you?"

Ying shut his eyes. Tears welled up at the corners.

— "Does Jay really hate me that much…?"

He murmured through a sigh, then whispered as softly as the alcohol burning in his chest:

— "I'm sorry…"

That apology — no one heard it, and no one answered. It disappeared into the air, as quietly as the way his heart was breaking, piece by piece.

He took another large swig. The burn down his throat was harsh, but it was the only way he could numb the suffocating pain in his chest.

He didn't know whether it was the alcohol or the heartbreak — but tears streamed down his face.

Maybe even he didn't know what hurt more — Jay's silence… or the cold, final look in his eyes.

———————————————————

In front of Jay's house, he stood still before the familiar tall gate. He tilted his head to the night sky, inhaling deeply as if trying to swallow all the turmoil into his chest, then slowly walked through.

The soft creak of the door opening wasn't enough to break the heavy silence of the living room. There, Mr. Sakda sat quietly on the sofa, the dim light casting shadows on the tired face of a father who had aged with worry.

When he saw Jay enter, he called out softly:

— "You're back?"

Jay paused for a moment, avoiding his gaze, but gave a small nod.

— "Yeah.

I'm going back to France tomorrow. Just came to pack my things."

His voice was strangely calm — but that only made the atmosphere heavier. He didn't dare lift his head to meet the eyes of the man sitting there — the one who had listened to all his pain in silence, yet couldn't bring himself to reach out and hold him. And perhaps, not even Jay knew if he meant what he said, or if he was just using this plan to leave as a shield against yet another heartbreak.

Mr. Sakda pressed his lips together, gaze dimming. There were so many things he wanted to say — to ask Jay to stay, to say he was sorry… but in the end, the words remained stuck in his throat.

All he could manage was a dry reply:

— "I see…"

Jay didn't look back, didn't glance at his father even once more. He simply walked up the stairs in silence, leaving behind eyes filled with hundreds of unanswered questions.

In that moment, the house that once felt warm became suffocatingly cold.

A father lowered his head behind the back of a son he no longer knew how to reach.

And a son kept walking — as if stopping for even a second would cause the tears to spill beyond control.

Upstairs, Jay pushed the door open and stepped inside without turning on the lights. The faint glow from outside filtered through the thin curtains, just enough to cast his shadow onto the floor. He didn't bother taking off his coat or putting down his things — he simply walked to the bed and let his entire body collapse onto it, as if all strength had been drained from him.

The room was silent.

There was no one to ask if he was okay.

No one to see the tear-streaked face, worn down by exhaustion.

And maybe… that was why Jay allowed himself to be weak — just a little, at least for now.

He lay on his side, hand covering his eyes, his breathing long and heavy. The images from earlier still echoed in his mind — Ying's pained eyes, the trembling voice, and the apology Jay didn't want to hear.

After a few slow breaths, Jay reached for his phone. His thin fingers searched for a familiar number…

A few rings…

Then a voice answered.

— "Hello…?"

Jay hesitated, then spoke calmly:

— "Ryan… I'm going back to France tomorrow."

There was a short pause on the other end. Ryan sounded surprised, but only replied quietly:

— "Okay… I understand."

The call ended. The screen went dark, reflecting a face that seemed to sink lower — as if a burden had just been lifted… but left a new scratch across the heart.

Jay dropped the phone on the bed and lay there for a long time. Thinking nothing. Wanting nothing — as if his mind no longer had the strength to resist.

Finally, he dragged his weary body into the bathroom, letting the cold water pour over him like it could wash away everything left of today.

A long day.

A final night… on Thai soil.

———————————————————

Early in the morning, before the sun had fully risen, Jay was already at the airport.

He stood alone amid the rush of hurried travelers, his slender figure dressed in simple yet refined clothing. The suitcase rolling behind him made a faint dragging sound across the stone floor, and slung over his shoulder was a black guitar — a sight that might lead one to assume he was a young artist heading off on tour. But no one would guess he had just walked away from a heavy emotional battlefield.

No one knew how many inner storms he had hidden beneath that calm exterior.

No one saw how tightly his hand gripped the suitcase handle — as if holding himself back from turning around.

Right before stepping into the check-in zone, Jay stopped. He turned, glancing behind him — a look without tears, without tremble. So still it was impossible to guess what he was feeling inside.

Was it reluctance… or simply one last glance at a place he once loved, once hurt?

Was it regret for a love that went wrong… or was he silently asking himself why he had returned to this place in the first place?

A breeze drifted past, lifting a lock of Jay's hair, and with it, the tangled thoughts that hadn't yet found names. He closed his eyes for a few seconds — not long enough for longing, but not so brief as to deny it either.

— "Goodbye…" Jay whispered, though no one heard.

He turned and walked away.

Without looking back.

In stark contrast to Jay's lonely silence in Thailand, Ying remained sprawled across the large bed in his cold, luxurious bedroom.

Daylight filtered through the curtains, casting soft light over his weary face — but Ying didn't move. The room was thick with the sharp scent of alcohol, the floor littered with empty bottles, and in his hand was one still unfinished. His throat burned, but his lips remained pressed tight — as though his whole body was straining just to forget the crushing feeling in his heart.

He had drunk… far too much.

So much he no longer knew whether he drank because he was drunk… or got drunk to forget.

All through the night, Ying hadn't slept. He simply lay there, drifting between the haze of liquor and Jay's words echoing in his head like blades slicing deep.

Suddenly, the sharp ring of his phone shattered the silence. The sound pierced through the heavy fatigue like a jolt. Ying frowned faintly, too drained to even be angry. One hand reached slowly into the mess of blankets, found the phone, and accepted the call.

— "Speak."

His voice was hoarse, low, clipped to the point of sounding cold. No arrogance, no sign of the powerful man he usually was.

The voice on the other end barely had time to ask a question before Ying cut them off:

— "Cancel today's meeting."

It was a command, but devoid of any vigor. Just a quiet rejection of everything, cutting all ties. Without waiting for a response, Ying hung up and let the phone drop beside him. It hit the carpet with a dry thud — but he didn't care.

He closed his eyes again, though even he wasn't sure if it was to sleep… or to escape.

What he felt now wasn't just exhaustion.

It was emptiness.

Every emotion had been drained out along with the alcohol. Each heartbeat, every breath — all of it felt heavy, and meaningless.

People say the strongest are those who never fall. But in this moment, Ying realized:

He was just a man.

Just someone hurting so deeply, he no longer knew what to do with his own heart.

———————————————————

Morning, at a familiar café near the city center, Faisal, Chirawan, and Isra were seated together, sipping coffee and enjoying a rare moment of peace amidst their busy lives.

Chirawan glanced at her phone for the third time in five minutes, frowning slightly, her voice tinged with worry:

— "This is strange… I've called Jay several times, but he still hasn't picked up."

Faisal lifted his head from his coffee cup, his expression calm as usual:

— "He's probably just busy."

Chirawan shook her head lightly, her eyes still fixed on the screen:

— "Even if he's busy, the phone should at least ring. But it keeps saying the number is unreachable…"

Isra, who had been silent until now, began paying attention. But before she could say anything, Faisal's phone suddenly rang. He glanced at the screen and frowned:

— "Hold on. Let me take this."

He stepped away from the table, his voice low but growing more serious with each word:

— "What? …Yeah, I got it… Alright, thank you."

He hung up and returned to the table, his face no longer calm.

— "My assistant called. Said that this morning, Ying suddenly canceled an important meeting with a major client. No notice. No reason. Just outright canceled."

His words sent a cold wave across the table. Chirawan stared at him, wide-eyed in disbelief:

— "What? But Ying's always so responsible! He's never even been late, let alone canceled a meeting. He usually tells you in advance too, right?"

Faisal nodded heavily:

— "Exactly. That's why it's so odd. I'll try calling him."

He picked up his phone, dialed, and waited. A few seconds later, he sighed and shook his head:

— "Phone's off."

Chirawan was genuinely alarmed now. She leaned back in her chair, clear concern in her eyes:

— "What's going on…? I'd already be worried if just one of them was unreachable — but both?"

Isra finally spoke, her voice soft, as if touching on the very suspicion hovering unspoken:

— "Could it be… something happened between Ying and Jay? I mean… they both disappeared at the same time."

Chirawan slowly nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line as if trying to swallow down a rising unease:

— "It's possible… I was thinking that too."

Faisal fell silent, his brows furrowed, as if trying to piece together scattered fragments in his mind. Then, a moment later, he murmured:

— "Could it be…"

— "You know something, Faisal?" Isra tilted her head, her expression questioning.

Faisal hesitated for a moment, then shook his head:

— "Not sure yet. I need to go see Ying. At his place."

— "Then go now," Chirawan urged, her tone suddenly urgent.

Faisal nodded and hurried out of the café, leaving Chirawan and Isra sitting across from each other, the air now heavy with tension and unease.

After a moment of silence, Chirawan slowly turned to Isra:

— "Isra… do you think something really happened between Ying and Jay?"

Isra didn't answer right away. She gazed into the coffee cup in front of her, her eyes calm but thoughtful:

— "I can't say for sure… but if you paid attention to the way Mr. Ying looked at Jay lately, the way he treated him… I think… you sensed it too, didn't you?"

Chirawan sighed softly, her eyes tinged with sorrow:

— "I did… I just thought maybe… it was only in my head…"

The two of them fell silent. In the quiet morning café, neither had the mind to enjoy the coffee slowly cooling in front of them. Worries, suspicions, and a quiet sense of dread began to creep into every breath they took.

End of Chapter 35.