Every street, every corner, every house in this neighborhood brought back memories to Arthit. Some were good, some were bad, and some he really wishes he never had. Coming into view is the house he used to frequent the most as a child. It was his best friend Lek's house. They had become friends since they were in kindergarten. He used to hang out there more than his own home just to avoid his father's daily drunken tirades. It was at that house that he found a bit of solace, and got to be just a kid. It was at that house that he didn't have to hear or see his father degrade and lay his hands on his mother.

There's one memory that still vividly haunts Arthit till this day. It's the one where all three of them, Kohl, him, and Krystal are crying inside their bedroom as their father beat their mother with his belt outside the living room. All three of them hovered in the corner furthest from the bedroom door. Arthit had pressed his hands down hard covering his ears as he sobbed uncontrollably. Kohl, being the oldest, kept a protective arm around Arthit while also carrying Krystal in his lap. All three of them cried in the room until they heard the front door slammed shut, and only their mother's soft whimpering was audible. He can still remember his mother laying on the floor bleeding with cuts all over her arms and legs. Arthit had run to Lek's house and didn't go back home until two days later when Kohl promised that their mom was okay.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the only time such a scene took place. It gradually started to become a regular occurrence, just different degrees of horror. Lek helped Arthit escape the harsh reality of his family's situation and always tried to keep Arthit safe with him. He invited Arthit to go anywhere his family would go just to get Arthit out of the house. Lek's parents welcomed Arthit with open arms since Lek was an only child that had no one to play with. They used to scrape their money together just to buy one comic to share. They did everything together.

That is until Kohl's best friend Ian outed Arthit. Words spread like wildfire around their neighborhood that Arthit was gay. Lek never said anything derogatory to Arthit, but things were never the same. Lek stopped inviting Arthit over to his house which was like Arthit's second home. Then slowly he started to distance himself from Arthit. And somewhere along the way, they stopped talking altogether. Lek's whole family eventually moved away, and not even one word was mentioned to Arthit. Not even one goodbye after fourteen years of friendship. It was the first time Arthit truly felt alone. But luckily, Arthit met a gang of new friends in college and they've been there for him through thick and thin.

"We're here. Are you going inside?" Luke stops in front of a house with green iron gates. He ducks his head a little lower to get a better look at the house that he knows is Arthit's childhood home. The lights were on so his brother is most likely inside. Luke can see Arthit internally debating whether or not he wants to see his brother. With a prominent frown on Arthit's face, his hold on the car's door handle tightens and loosens again and again. Luke has an urge to just kick Arthit out of the car to get it over with. For God's sake, the man has already bought his brother medicine so he obviously cares. What's the holdup? Let's get the show on the road as they like to say.

"Do you want me to go in with you?" Luke offers seeing Arthit has still yet to make a move.

"Uh, no. I'll be right back." Arthit finally says and pops open the car door.

It's as if his feet were made of lead, every step Arthit took his feet grew heavier. It feels like a million years ago since the last time he has pushed the green iron gates open. Green paint chips away at his touch, exposing more of its rust underneath. It's time for another coat of paint, Arthit thought to himself. Not that it's any of his business. The front yard used to be filled with flowers and vegetable plants, but now it's covered in cement. To the left of the yard against the wall is their old wooden kiddie bench pushed to the side where it's rotting away. Arriving at the footsteps of the door, Arthit anxiously raises his hand to press the doorbell. He doesn't know if he really should be here or not.

Kohl hears the doorbell ringing so he puts down the pot he was just about to fill water with. Could it be Anjali at the door? Kohl pinches his shirt and tries to sniff it to see if it smells bad. It's not that he hasn't showered or anything, but he has been going through fits of coughing and cold sweating all day. It's a miracle that he hasn't coughed out his lungs yet. Hearing the doorbell ring again, Kohl forgoes the idea of changing. It shouldn't matter anyway. It's not like he is trying to impress Anjali. She's way out of his league no matter how you see it.

Arthit hears someone on the other side of the door. And just as he readies himself to see that person on the other side, he suddenly hears the person hacking violently. The doorknob shakes a bit, but the door hasn't opened. Arthit instinctively starts pounding on the door. The hacking keeps going and Arthit keeps pounding. Then suddenly the door swings open.

Kohl is covering his mouth with his shirt staring at the last person he ever expected to come knocking, literally. Lost for words, he just stands there like a statue.

Arthit frowns and stares back at his brother. How long are they supposed to do this? Maybe this is a bad idea. Arthit looks away and lifts the small plastic bag with the medicine inside and holds it up in front of him.

Kohl stares at the bag and looks back at Arthit. "What's this?"

"Just take it," Arthit replies without looking at his brother.

"Do you want to come inside?" Kohl puts his shirt down and stands akimbo.

"No. I don't." Arthit shakes the bag a little.

"Why not? You're already here. Come inside." Kohl waves his hand beckoning his little brother.

"No! I don't want to." Arthit shakes the bag again.

"Then I don't want whatever that's inside of that bag." Kohl feels like he's talking to little Arthit again. The only thing missing is the foot-stomping.

"Fine. Suit yourself. I'm leaving." Arthit irritatedly turns to leave with the bag of medicine still in his hand. Then he hears the front door shut behind him. Just two steps before he reaches the green iron gates he pivots and heads back. He has already gone through the trouble of buying the medicine. He will be damned if he didn't give them to his brother. So he marches right back to the front door and tries to hang the bag on the door handle. As Arthit fumbles with the plastic bag, the door suddenly opens again.

"Just come inside!" Kohl grabs Arthit by his wrist and pulls him inside the house.

"Hey!" Arthit stumbles a little as he's dragged inside. He looks around and it's as if time hasn't touched this part of the world. Everything still looks the same. The walls are still the same tangerine orange color it had always been.

"Take off your shoes," Kohl says as he walks inside the living room.

"I know!" Arthit irritatedly toes off his shoes and steps inside.

Memories of his childhood start rushing back to him upon stepping inside the house. The good, the bad, and the ugly all flash before his eyes. The old upright piano that he used to take his piano lessons is still sitting across the dining table. He remembers how happy he was when his father had said he had bought it especially for him to learn piano. He practiced extra hard to please his father. It wasn't until he was much older, that he found out the piano was actually a salvaged item from a crime scene his father had investigated. So much for feeling special. And it was blatantly obvious that he wasn't special when Krystal became old enough to take piano lessons too. His father said it was too expensive to pay for both of them to take lessons, and it's better for a girl to play the piano. So that was the end of his piano lessons. Although he did continue to practice what he had learned, and he sat in during Krystal's lessons when she had caught up to his level. Even though the instructor Miss Lang didn't give him direct lessons, she did correct him whenever she heard him play.

"Do you want anything to drink? I have juice, water, and tea if you can wait." Kohl heads to the kitchen.

"I'm not staying. I just want to give you this bag of medicine." Arthit sits down in one of the old armchairs and tosses the bag of medicine on top of the coffee table. It's probably the newest piece of furniture in the house, and he doesn't even want to think about why the old one was replaced. Arthit looks at the old black box sitting across from the couch. Does that TV still work?

Kohl comes back out with two glasses of water and places them on the coffee table. He picks up the bag of medicine Arthit had tossed on the table. Inside were two cartons of cold and cough suppressants. "Thanks. But I already have cold medicine. You didn't need to get me these. I appreciate the thought though."

"Well, if you're talking about medicine from the old store then you better take these instead. Those expired crap won't do anything for you, and you'll lose your job if you don't get better soon." Arthit scoffs.

Just as Kohl was about to say something he gets another bout of a coughing fit. He hacks so badly that his face turns red and he hits his chest over and over with his fist.

"See! Whatever you're taking doesn't work." Arthit picks up one of the glasses of water and hands it to Kohl.

Kohl's tear-inducing cough finally calms down and he takes the water from Arthit's hand. "Thanks." Kohl takes a sip and puts the glass back down.

"Fine. I'll take these instead. Are you happy now?" Kohl opens one of the cartons of cold medicine and pops two tablets in his mouth.

Arthit watches as Kohl washes the tablets down with a big gulp of water. Feeling like he's accomplished what he came to do, he wants to take his leave. He still wants to have dinner with Kongpob no matter how late it gets. He just wants to see Kongpob right now.

"I'm going to leave now."

Kohl grabs onto Arthit's wrist, halting him from getting out of his seat. "Arthit, are you happy now?" Kohl asks with a serious look on his face.

Arthit looks at Kohl and pulls his wrist free from Kohl's grip, but he sits back down in the armchair. "Since when did you care?"

"I was stupid when you and Ian were kissing and all, but I've always cared about you."

"How many times do I have to tell you I wasn't kissing Ian? He kissed me out of the blue." Arthit glares at his brother.

"I know. I know. But I didn't at that time, and I overreacted. I'm sorry. I said a lot of things that I shouldn't have and I don't mean. I just... I... don't know. I just didn't understand it at the time."

"But you were mad at me! And I didn't do anything."

"Arthit, our family was already a mess, and it just got worse when you came out. And then dad had more excuses to go crazy, and a part of me at the time blamed you. So it was all just bad. I'm sorry. I know I was a terrible brother and I disappointed you." Kohl tries to plead.

Arthit sat there quietly processing Kohl's words and despite his own pain, he can understand what Kohl meant about their father. "You know, I wasn't even that hurt by those names you had called me. But it was the fact that you chose to believe Ian over me. I'm your own brother!"

"Arthit, I'm sorry. I really am. When I found out the truth, I was really disappointed in myself too. I still can't believe Ian lied about it. Please forgive my stupidity. I should have believed you. I'm sorry." Kohl rubs his face with both his hands. He honestly still can't believe Ian did that. His so-called best friend. He really should have knocked that lying asshole's teeth out.

"You hated me so much that you stopped talking to me. I left home because even my brother who I've always looked up to couldn't even bear to look at me just because I'm gay." Looking down, Arthit clasps his hands so tight that his knuckles were turning white.

"I was stupid, but I never hated you. I didn't understand it and I felt like all of a sudden I didn't know who my brother was anymore. Don't get me wrong, I'm not making excuses for my horrendous behavior. I said some disgusting things that I'm really ashamed of. But you know what, I'm glad you left home. You got a chance at a better life without all this baggage. And I didn't have to worry about dad beating you to death." Kohl wipes away his tears with his palms.

"I know you gave me your savings when I left home. Even though Krystal gave it to me, I know there's no way she could have saved so much. I just wished you would have talked to me." A few tears trickle down Arthit's face and he quickly wipes them away. This is not how he imagined this would go.

"I knew if I did, then you would have stayed. And this place wasn't safe for you. You could have died. So, maybe it was my best stupid mistake. Because not only are you alive, you're successful now. You've made something out of yourself. I'm so proud of you." Kohl clasps his hand over Arthit's and gives them a squeeze.

"I could have stayed and helped you. Then you wouldn't have had to do all this alone." Tears start streaming down Arthit's face.

Still holding Arthit's hands in his, Kohl gets off the adjacent couch and squats down in front of Arthit. "If you had stayed, then the both of us would have both been stuck in this misery. And nothing would've changed. Don't you see? So it's good that you left. I just want to know if you're happy."

"I am. I'm very happy. But you're not." Arthit cries louder.

"You're wrong, Arthit. I've never been happier. It's been almost twenty years since mom is free of any bruises. And now I can sleep through the night without worrying about dad coming home drunk. I can see Krystal smile genuinely now. And I get to see you healthy every day. You have no idea how liberating and at peace, I feel now." Kohl wraps an arm around Arthit's neck and pulls him in for a hug.

Arthit allows his brother to hug him and it's like he's a kid again. All his pain and grudge slowly seeps away as he cries into his brother's shoulder and lets it all out.

"Arthit, you did good. You did very good."

~~~~~~
AN: Sweets, it's an emo chapter. Did the feelings come through? Can you also feel the healing? Or did I fail? 🥺

Thanks for reading.

Curtsy,
Lana ❤️