A Little Bit... A Little More. (Huh?)

TharnType: Chapter 1

This is chapter 1 of a triple update.

"So, how do we do this?" Type asks.

"I don't know, man. We need to come up with a solid plan," Tharn replies.

"You've lived in Bangkok your whole life. Are you telling me you've never drank?" Type asks with a look of surprise on his face.

"I have, but I've never bought it myself," Tharn replies sheepishly.

"So, how do you buy your cigarettes?" Type asks.

"It's cigarettes. No one has asked me for an ID to buy cigarettes," Tharn replies.

Even though Tharn and Type seemed like gutsy risk takers, it couldn't be farther from the truth. When it came to breaking rules, they were scared shitless. They'd rather die than admit that to each other, though. All in all, they were law abiding unicorns. Underage people buying alcohol was not unheard of, but somewhere in their minds, they knew they could get in trouble if they got caught; and that is the thought that spurred them on to come up with an elaborate ruse to illegally acquire some alcohol.

After a moment of contemplation, Tharn looks up at Type and exclaims, "You're older! So, you can go buy it!"

"Are you serious, Tharn? I might be older, but I look like a child next to you," Type replies, exasperated.

Tharn furrows his eyebrows in shock and looks up at Type.

"But I'm 18! You are a whole year older than I am!" Tharn says.

"Not a WHOLE year. You make me sound like a grandfather!" Type exclaims.

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that," Tharn says laughing at Type's reaction to being called old.

"Whatever, since I'm older, we are going with my plan. Learn to respect your elders," Type says, in a mock-stern voice.

"Okay, P'Khub. Whatever you say, Khub," Tharn says, making exaggerated wais at Type.

"Umm... Maybe if we brush your hair back," Type says, as he furiously tries to push Tharn's hair back with his palms, but it springs back unto his face every time, and all he achieves is making the front of Tharn's hair look like he was tossed around in a tornado.

"Okay, we need some wax to hold that back," Type says as he doubled over laughing at what he did to Tharn's hair.

Tharn sits back accepting his fate.

"Okay, so we need to get some hair product to hold your hair away from your face, some adult clothes. Maybe a briefcase?" Type adds as he strokes his chin thoughtfully.

"Wait, why a briefcase?" Tharn asks, confused.

"I don't know, maybe you're coming back from the office and needed a nightcap? I'm just trying to paint a picture here so we can be as convincingly adult as possible," Type replies.

"Okay, let's rethink that briefcase and go with the other suggestions you made," Tharn says, laughing.

"Fine, let's put an outfit together," Type suggests as he walks towards his closet, motioning Tharn to check his closet.

Type looks into his and moves his University uniforms that are hung up to one side as he starts to look through the piles of clothes. He tries pulling out a few, but only comes up with a whole bunch of jerseys and shorts. The only pairs of pants he owns are all faded denims and those do not scream adult. He gives up on his clothes and turns towards Tharn to see if he had any luck to see him holding up a black Iron Maiden shirt with a big skull on the front and laughs out loud.