Chapter One

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The cold midnight air was long forgotten by the group of friends who sat to the side of a dimly lit room, with fairy lights that acted as spotlights. Black leather booths occupied the sides of the room whilst the middle was an open plan space, lit with disco lights to use as a dance floor. The group of friends occupied a private booth situated closer to the back of this room with their own private terrace. The table in the middle of the booth was occupied by bottles of liquor and shot glasses that no longer had an owner. In the midst of glasses and spilled wine, were meals that had not been touched in hours, helplessly trying to stay moist in the cold breeze that flowed past the terrace. The walls of the space were decorated in rows of wine and liquor that seemed too expensive to be consumed, looking more like trophies than a beverage used to enjoy a moment in time. A private bar sat to one side of the terrace producing a good portion of the lights for the entire space. The bartender was quick on his feet, trying to keep up with the continuous orders. Half the group was fully drunk, one passed out on a chair, some aimlessly talking in circles. Half of the other half was sober, whilst the other half was past being tipsy but haven't reached the point of being drunk. 

Kim sat at the edge of the booth, dressed in a black leather jacket with a plain white tee, washed black denims and brown calf boots. The polished boots reflected some overhead lights as he tapped it against the table, holding a glass of whiskey in one hand as the other was crossed across his torso. 

Kim was not a social person. He was content with the acquaintances he encountered daily and did not see, nor could fathom the requirement for them to be anything more. He had a close group of mates that he enjoyed during events, who he kept business relations and social relations with. So anyone who was of no use, he simply did not care for. As the conversations around the table started to shift to indicate that the liquor was speaking, Kim found it harder to keep himself seated as his attention fully focused in front of him at the other edge of the booth that faced him. The ice in his glass had long melted, now leaving in its place a watered-down whiskey shot. He rolled the liquid around the glass, trying to keep himself steady, trying to contain the growing need to reach into his back pocket and end this suffering now.

He was well aware of his power, the power the Theerapanyakul name held. He was not afraid to test their power either, especially on little pests who could not keep their hands off what rightfully belonged to the Theerapanyakuls. 

His last bit of patience ceased from existence when the said pest reached to touch the soft skin of a butterfly, who was too good for their own good, someone who attracted more eyes than Kim would like. A butterfly that would welcome danger with open arms, happy to nourish the danger with love and care. 

Kim was in fact a very patient man, being taught to not show feelings, to lead with his head and not his heart. It was never a problem for him, at least not when Chay isn't involved. The years of vigorous training that drained his mentality and vacuumed him of his emotions, all seem to vanish when Chay is part of the equation. The younger was able to pull the heartiest laugh out of Kim during the bloodiest days. He was a ball of soft candy that Kim would gladly replace his morning coffees with. 

"Get your hands off" yelled Kim, getting up, his hands consciously reaching to his back pocket. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence, everyone sobering at the sudden outburst. Alarmed, the crowd followed the direction in which his anger was targeted. A guy sitting on the same side as Kim, jumped to separate a man, who had managed to sign his life away to Satan with just one stupid act. A man with a buzz cut, wearing a pair of matching loose-fitting shirt and pants, had put his arm around a young man. A young man who had Satan himself, beckoning for his love. 

"Chay, let's go..." A softer voice escaped Kim, directing towards the young man who had frozen in place, with his big round eyes becoming even bigger. Too frightened to speak, he had settled on a nod. Awkwardly mumbling a sorry, he made his way out from where he was sat, carefully trying to jump over the tangled feet of drunk men. Without allowing Chay to wave his goodbye, Kim turned on his heel, grabbing onto the younger’s hand under the long-sleeved hoodie, leading them out of the private booth to the bottom floor. 

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