My Man

Chapter 19

Kong's POV

"You told him"

The sentence was not a question. Neither an accusation.

A mere observation with a buttload of pity lacing the words.

P'Mew took a deep sigh before placing his beer on the coffee table and moving towards the liquor cabinet. He came back with a bottle and a couple of glasses.

"Well, beer is not gonna cut it then. You need Scotch" he said pouring it in both the glasses and handing me one.

"Drink up," he said downing the hot liquid in one go before laying back on his seat. I could say from his comfy clothes and the still damp hair that he had just gotten out of the shower. He had a surprisingly satisfied look on his face even when he was sitting there with his eyes closed. I wondered what was running on his mind. I could only hope that he hadn't done something yet again to antagonize P'Arthit's lawyer friend, which he took great pleasure in these days.

Initially, I was surprised at why a calm and collected guy like P'Mew was picking on a fight with an opposition lawyer above all. He had never been the arrogant type in all the years I have known him. Growing up with him since childhood I have never seen him act so haughty that too in a professional setting. As much as I was against him bullying Kyle and have diligently reminded him as a concerned cousin one too many times to stop the pranks, I couldn't dismiss the genuine smile he had every time he was with Kyle. It most definitely wasn't the fake mask that he used for the paparazzi or the prying eyes of the business world.

With the unveiling of a series of unfortunate events in his life for the past five years, I was almost impressed by how he held his head high without breaking. Though the problems in our lives differ, if there was one thing that I could relate to, it's the feeling of putting on a smile every day for the rest of the world when your whole life was crumbling down on top of you. Because I have been doing the same thing as him for the past six years.

I was pretty used to it by now that I didn't feel like I was plastering a fake face on daily. It has almost become a dull numb routine that I no longer paid attention to. At least until I met P'Arthit for the first time after six years of hell.

I couldn't put into words the emotions I felt on that day. It was all over the place and I was fighting desperately hard to quiet down my racing mind and revive my stunned heart.

For a man who was walking the world as the living dead after losing a part of my soul, it felt like a rebirth when I met him again. I believed that I was waking up from a long sleep only without the true love's kiss. 

God how I frantically hoped that it was not a dream that he was in front of me again. 

How I yearned for it to not be another hallucination like every other time that I missed him in those six years. 

How I was expecting someone to hit me in the face and let me know that it was real.

Just as in cue I felt my cigarette scorching my hand letting me know that I wasn't losing my mind. There was still some kindness left in the ruthless heart of my guardian angel to give me something that my soul would never cease to pine for, I had thought that day.

The only downside being the timing couldn't be any more wrong.

Money and fame are the two most vicious things that humans have ever invented. Of course, they couldn't beat the evil nature of the very humans like us that gave birth to them. The world has always thought that I should be grateful for my wealth and popularity. They never even bothered to consider that the so-called fame and wealth were not a boon but a curse that was crushing my windpipe daily wishing I was born in a different world. Yet my responsibilities as a devoted son, trusted friend, loving father and a compassionate leader had kept me alive to slave yet another day enduring the suffocation in solidarity.