The night enveloped the city in a tapestry of neon lights, casting a vibrant glow upon the bustling streets. Win navigated his motorbike through the labyrinth of traffic, weaving skillfully between cars and tuk-tuks. Jay, seated behind him, held onto the bike's handle with a steady grip, the cool breeze tousling his hair.

Despite the lively cityscape, Win remained oddly silent. The engine's hum was accompanied by the distant sounds of street vendors and the occasional honking of horns. The meeting lingered on his mind, his silence reflecting the weight of his feelings. He tried not to think about it for the last couple of weeks, but he did effectively lie to his friends... to people who would go through hell for him. Now, when the truth was out in the open, he felt both relieved and like utter shit. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as the bike came to a stop not far from the hotel.

"You do know none of them is holding it against you, right?" Jay asked, jumping off the bike. "You shouldn't feel guilty when it was my choice to keep it secret from them. There was nothing you could do to change it, Win. And you are definitely not responsible for my decisions."

His eyes widened slightly as he looked at Jay in shock. "Technically, I know it, but... I didn't stop to consider that Fort would want to know what happened to Tay. He had the right to know."

"There was nothing you could do. I wouldn't stay here if you insisted on telling the truth. Too much risk."

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What changed?"

Jay shrugged noncommittally, despite images of Sean in that 'cursed' overalls popping into his mind. "I got to know them better, and they seemed trustworthy enough to keep it secret."

Win decided it was safer to not mention that Sean was the only person Jay willingly spent time with. Although it wasn't nearly as interesting as Sean's interest in Jay. Even busy with the game, Win could tell that Sean's eyes never left Jay, as if he was the only person in the room. This required further investigation.

"I won't ask why you suddenly switched from mopping face to full-on plotting, but have some faith in your friends," he added, then waved him goodbye and walked towards the hotel entrance.

Jay passed the concierge with a simple nod, ignoring his disdain for Tay's clothes. It was both amusing and disappointing how the concierge's look changed depending on his appearance. It started to annoy him. Last push, he needed to carve some time in the day to find an apartment for his stay here. Maybe something with a nice view over the river?

The rows of modest yet tidy houses lined the streets, their facades illuminated by the soft glow of street lamps. The atmosphere was serene, with the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle night breeze. The air was filled with the distant sounds of the city, a subtle reminder of the bustling life beyond these quiet streets.

As Fort quietly entered his home, the familiar creak of the door barely disturbed the silence. He tiptoed through the hallway, instinctively avoiding the creaky floorboards that could betray his presence. The soft hush of the night wrapped around him, broken only by the muted sounds of his footsteps.

Intent to reach his room without disturbing anyone, Fort paused when he heard a faint, muffled sound. At first, he dismissed it as the rustling of the wind against the window panes. But then, as Fort drew closer to his sister's old bedroom, his steps faltered, and he paused, straining to listen. There it was again, a soft, trembling sob emanating from behind the closed door.

Without thinking, Fort spun around and backtracked downstairs to the kitchen. In the soft glow of the freezer light, he reached for Aya's favourite ice cream, scooping generous portions into a bowl. He topped it with whipped cream, caramel sauce, crumbled cookies, and her favourite sweets, creating a messy but comforting treat. Just like Araya would do for Mimi when she had nightmares... or nights, she cried in pain. Fort knew it wouldn't solve anything, but for now, there was nothing else he could do.

He gently pressed the handle and slipped inside his sister's bedroom. His steps were silent on the plush carpet as he approached the bed and poked the bundle under the covers. "Here," he said softly. "A nightmare-away bowl. It's messy, but I did my best."

A bit startled, Aya resurfaced from underneath her duvet. Even in a dim light pouring through half-closed curtains, he could see how red and swollen her eyes were. Seeing his usually strong and radiant older sister like this was devastating. In silent support, Fort sat on the floor, his back supported in the bed and lifted the bowl towards her.

"Mimi used to love them," Aya said with a sniffle, holding the bowl with both hands. "Do you remember how big her smile would get when we sneaked into her room with it?"

"Yeah, I do," he replied with a nostalgic smile. "She would look at us as if we hung the moon."

"I miss her."

Fort reached out and comfortingly patted the flowery duvet on her knee. "Me too. Things are not the same without her chatter."

"And tea parties!" Aya chuckled. "Remember when she asked you to wear my pink dress because it was a princesses only party? I was sure you would get angry with her and refuse. You were like thirteen? Not exactly princess party material. But you just went for it... I still remember how you demanded matching make-up to bring out your complexion. You really made her day, Fort. Always there for us... no matter what we need...," she trailed off, clutching the bowl tighter as tears welled in her eyes.

"I wish I could do more... that world wouldn't be so unfair, and she was still with us."

Araya ruffled his hair. "You can't protect us from everything, Fort."

"It's my job as your brother to keep you safe, and I'm not going to lose you as well, Aya. I can't."

She set the dessert on the bedside table, slipped out of bed to sit beside him, and hugged him tightly. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I know... but you rarely smile and always look so scared. And I didn't know what to do... I'm as helpless as I was back then when Mimi needed me."

"Hey, don't say that. You never left her side, and you would always make her laugh and forget for a moment about cancer and pain. The hours you spent studying, sitting on the floor by her bed so she wouldn't feel lonely. You did everything you possibly could, Fort," Aya stated firmly but with incredible warmth in her voice. "Just like now, you are here. It means a lot to me, not to mention this masterpiece," she added, picking up a melting mess and shoving a massive spoonful into her mouth. It was way too sweet, and the texture was odd with various confections, but at that moment, it was the best thing she ever ate. Neither of them paid attention to the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked once she finished the ice cream.

Aya wiped away the tears with the back of her hand and took a deep breath. "It's just...," she began, her voice wavering slightly. "They wrote some horrible things on my locker again. You know, the usual... slurs, hateful words. But today, it was different. It felt like they crossed a line, Fort. It wasn't just about me anymore; it was about...," her voice trailed off.

She didn't have to say it for him to realise they dragged her fiancée into it. He could see the toll it was taking on her, the way her shoulders slumped with the weight of the words thrown at her. The worry about the person she loved the most loomed over her like a stormy cloud. Fort wasn't surprised she had come back home tonight.

"It's like they want to erase me, to make me feel small, insignificant," Aya continued, her voice trembling. "And it's not just the words, Fort. It's the looks, the whispers behind my back. I feel like I'm suffocating, like I don't belong there anymore... I'm scared that if this continues, Nina and I..."

Fort reached out and squeezed her hand gently, offering silent support. "Impossible," he uttered without hesitation. "Nina would fight them all to keep you safe, you know that, right?"

"I know."

"Is this the reason why you are hiding it from her?"

"I don't want to worry her," Aya replied sadly. "I know it's wrong, and she would be there for me, most likely suggesting I quit and take the burden of supporting us on herself, but I can't do this to her. I want to fight for us, but... I'm just so tired."

"Promise me that you won't get angry at me, but what if there was a way to fight back?"

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why would I be angry, Fort?"

"So... we have a small group... me, Win, Tay, Sean and Izzy. We are trying to change things around. So far, we haven't made much impact, but we have managed to draw attention to a couple of issues. Unfortunately, they can easily hash it out, but now, with Jay, it feels like we can do more," he explained, looking sheepishly at his older sister.

"Fort," Aya started sternly. "You aren't involved in anything illegal, right?"

"Um... not exactly... maybe sometimes?"

"FORT!"

"I know, but how else will we change things around? I always thought this was the only way, but Jay showed us a different approach. It may take a couple years, but it will change everything for everyone."

"Wait, who is Jay?" she asked confused.

"Tay's identical twin brother."

"Tay doesn't have a brother."

Fort chuckled at her reaction, mirroring his down to the same facial expression. "Apparently, he does. And they are nothing alike," he replied. "I don't know him well, but Jay sounds very British and appears more elegant and refined. Worlds apart from Tay," Fort added, then briefly explained what Jay told them about their childhood.

"Wow... that must have been hard. How's Tay dealing with it? I would assume he feels defensive of his spot in the group."

"You know him. Just taking it in the stride," Fort forced himself to laugh. "Anyway, Jay can put us in touch with these big movements fighting for equality rights and politicians supporting them. If we can get them evidence of what's happening in some workplaces, maybe they can help? Put more pressure on the government and change the laws for everyone. Did you know that hate crimes at the workplace are firmly established as serious offences under UK law? Imagine how much easier it would be for you if things would become like this here."

Despite worry about him, Araya smiled, realising he had brought the issue to his friends for her sake. "Will this help?" she asked, picking up her phone and showing him pictures of her locker.

Fort froze at cruelty behind insults. He couldn't believe people could be so ruthless about something that shouldn't matter. "Aya... this is... horrible. I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault that some people don't understand. Besides, you are trying your best to change it, right?" she said, patting his head. "Just make sure you don't get into trouble."

"We will be careful, sis."

"I will try to get more evidence for you and ask my friends to get some as well if similar things happen at their workplaces," Araya stated with renewed resolve. Seeing her younger brother standing up for her in the best possible way, she couldn't just sit and cry.

"Promise me to be cautious, okay? You know how dangerous these people can be," Fort stressed, worried that something may happen to her. "And promise me to talk with Nina. She loves you, and I'm sure she wants to be there for you when things are tough."

"I can't believe we reached times you are the one to scold me," she laughed, looking much more cheerful.

"It's because you are too stubborn to rely on people around you."

Aya grabbed her pillow and smacked him hard. "I'm the stubborn one?! Did you ever look in the mirror?"

"Of course I did! How else would I look so flawless all the time?"

"Oh my god, Fort! You are impossible!"

Unbeknownst to them, a middle-aged couple stood silently behind the closed door, exchanging relieved glances. While they always welcomed their daughter back home with open arms, this time felt different, heavier somehow, than the usual pangs of homesickness for her mother's cooking. It stirred their instinct to protect and comfort her, but at the same time, they wanted to give her space to work through her issues and come to them once she was ready.

And then there was their son, often the object of their quiet worry when he was out late. But tonight, as they listened to the muted exchange between siblings, they felt reassured. It seemed their children were more than capable of looking after each other, even in moments of vulnerability. With a shared nod of understanding, they retreated into their own bedroom.

Nestled within the heart of the city, the bar exuded an air of sophistication and exclusivity. Its sleek, dimly lit interior was adorned with plush leather seating and polished wooden fixtures, creating an atmosphere of refined elegance. Soft jazz music drifted through the space, mingling with the murmured conversations of its patrons. Art Thawin rushed towards one of the private rooms at the back, looking over his shoulder. He was worried someone would follow him or he would bump into one of his friends, or worse, the person he tried to deceive.

He couldn't shake off the concern gnawing at him. Despite their best efforts, those tasked with monitoring Jay's movements consistently failed to keep tabs on him. It puzzled Art. Wasn't Jay supposed to be an easy target, another rich boy dutifully following his parent's wishes? Yet, not only did they fail to extract any useful information from him, but they also struggled to even track his whereabouts. Art sighed, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him. Perhaps the risk wasn't worth the reward. No amount of money could justify playing with fire. What if he ended up like Tay? Another matter that bothered him. Tay suddenly disappeared from the hospital, and they couldn't locate him.

With another heavy sigh, Art knocked at the door and, after receiving permission, entered the room.

"I'm starting to feel like you are wasting my time, Mr Thawin," a cold voice greeted him. "Maybe I should seek more lucrative ways to deal with your debts?"

"I just need more time, please!" he begged, not daring to look at the person on the large sofa. "He is bound to learn something soon. I'm sure the group is just laying low after failure at the factory, but soon they should reach out to him."

"It's a shame your 'friend' refused to share his knowledge with us. And even worse, that somehow you managed to lose an unconscious person."

Art instantly shrunk and nervously stepped on the other foot. "It seems like his brother moved him to a better hospital, possibly abroad. I tried to learn the location, but I needed to be careful. He will start suspecting something if I'm too insistent about details."

The man leaned forward, his gaze turning even colder. "So far, you didn't bring us any details."

He would love to tell him if it's easy to do it himself, but he valued his life too much. All Art could do now was curse his big mouth. Why did he have to blurt out in this very bar that his friend could easily break into that cursed factory? His jaw clenched in anger. None of this would have happened if his parents were more understanding and didn't cut him off. Then, he wouldn't get into such massive debts to support his lifestyle.

"My apologies, sir," he muttered, lowering his head.

"You have four more weeks. If I don't have their names on my desk by then, you can take your friend's empty hospital bed."

Art shuddered as a memory of Tay's injuries, and a cold sweat broke out on his back. He had to avoid it at all costs. "Yes, sir."

"If you fail, we will collect what you owe from your parents."

His eyes widened in fear. If his parents were to learn about drugs and parties, he would be disinherited. Art would rather die than let this happen. Being temporarily cut off was bad enough. He swallowed hard and lowered his head. "There is no need, sir. I will have it."

"Leave."

"Yes, sir."

As soon as the door behind him closed, Art breathed a sigh of relief, took his phone and sent a text message. Unfortunately, the answer was far from what he had hoped for. On the contrary, it gave him a sinking feeling of dread. Was it possible he underestimated him? The truth was that he didn't know anything about Jay. He only heard Tay's ranting that his twin followed their wealthy mother, fully indulging in the privileges she provided, a typical spoiled rich boy with nothing inside his head. Was it possible Tay misjudged his brother?

After a series of exams and assignments, Sean faced a rare free Saturday, teetering on the brink of boredom. His mind was still trapped in the endless study cycle, but he recoiled at the mere thought of another textbook. As a result, he wandered aimlessly through the bustling market, coincidentally finding himself not far from Tay's flat. Or so he told himself.

The truth was that he was curious. How much of the person he had interacted with in recent weeks was truly Jay? From their initial encounter, where Jay effortlessly dodged his punch and pinned him against the wall, to the lengthy discussions about his essay and the playful banter that often ensued. Something about Jay's presence lingered in Sean's mind, refusing to be dismissed.

Then, amidst the crowd, he spotted Jay exiting a taxi, and Sean's breath caught in his throat. This was the real Jay. His innate elegance, coupled with a hint of nonchalance and indifference, rendered him irresistible. Not to mention his attire – refined and probably more expensive than Sean could possibly imagine. Now it made sense why he would move Tay to Bumrungrad Hospital. Jay could simply afford it.

Sean didn't know many wealthy people, but the ones he did always looked down on people like him. The divide between the Western and Eastern sides of the city only exacerbated this sentiment, with the former frequently treating the latter with contempt. Yet, Jay never did. Plus, Win said he would mostly stay at Tay's cheap place rather than the hotel. Why would Jay do it? He didn't need to live here to pretend to be his twin.

And Sean definitely didn't mean to follow him. Nor did he expect someone like Jay to get groceries or be so polite with stands owners. It was confusing.

"I didn't take you for a stalker."

A sudden, playful voice brushing past his ear made Sean jump and instantly spin around. "I just happened to be in the same place," he uttered, regaining composure.

"Of course."

"So... this is how you normally look like?" Sean asked, eyeing black skinny jeans and a light jumper with sleeves pushed slightly below his elbows. "It suits you," he added without thinking.

His eyebrow cocked questioningly, while brown eyes filled with mischievous sparks. "Is this the reason why you were following me?"

"Obviously not," Sean rolled his eyes as if saying don't flatter yourself, but there was no escaping it. "I didn't expect you to know how to cook," he finally said, looking at a paper bag with various groceries.

"Why wouldn't I know how to cook?"

Sean shrugged. "Don't people like you have someone to do it for them?"

"Nah, we are past imperialism," he quipped back at him, breaking into another of these cheeky smiles that made Sean feel things he shouldn't.

"I still find it hard to believe," Sean said sceptically. "You don't seem like the type who has time for cooking."

Jay chuckled at Sean's scepticism. "Well, I might surprise you," he said, a playful glint in his eyes. "In fact, why don't you stick around tonight? I'll cook us dinner, and you can see for yourself."

Sean raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity flickering across his face. "And what if your cooking turns out to be disastrous?" he questioned, unable to resist the challenge. "I'm too young to die!"

"Your loss," Jay shrugged, clearly teasing him, walking towards the rundown apartment building.

Suddenly, the image of sad cup noodles popped into Sean's mind, and he found himself rushing after Jay. Anything would be better than the prospect of another night of instant meal.