Nick sat on a seat near the Chao Phraya River, staring blankly at the dark, rippling water. The city lights shimmered across the surface, generating distorted reflections that seemed to mock him. The cool night air should have been pleasant, but he felt smothered, like drowning in an ocean of emotions with no way to come up for air.
His chest felt tight, crushed under the weight of treachery.
The photographs repeated on a loop in his thoughts, taunting him.
Arthur and another dude, sitting close, smiling, leaning into each other.
Nick clenched his hands. He had tried to blink the pictures away, to convince himself that maybe there was an explanation, but no matter how hard he tried, one question kept hammering into his skull:
How could Arthur do this to me?
He had always been protective of Arthur—possessive, even—but never in his worst fears had he envisioned this.
Has Arthur ever genuinely loved him? Or had he just been waiting for someone else to come along?
The thoughts made Nick sick to his stomach.
He wanted to shout, strike out, or punch something—anything—just to stop this misery. But there was no evading it.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
Nick pulled it out with quivering hands, and his heart squeezed when he saw Arthur's name flashing on the screen.
He stared at it, his fingers hanging on the answer button.
For a single second, he pondered picking up, demanding an explanation, and begging for the truth.
But what was the point?
The photographs were proof enough.
Arthur had deceived him.
His grasp tightened on the phone, then, without a second thought, he turned it off.
Arthur didn't deserve to explain himself.
I warned him about this; we had so many arguments on this, and finally, it happened.
Nick had always hated silence. It reminded him of the evenings when he was a youngster, listening to his parents fight in the next room, their voices fading quieter until all that was left was the sound of his heartbeat.
Right now, the silence was intolerable.
He stood abruptly, pushing his hands into his pockets as he strode down the riverfront, his thoughts racing.
Arthur had been his everything.
They had dreamed about the future together: a tiny apartment, good careers, maybe even a silly dog forever.
But now, that future is shattered.
Nick stopped walking, his breath shaky.
He couldn't go back to the flat. He couldn't stomach the thought of entering through that door, seeing Arthur's possessions, remembering the life they had made together—only to find it had all been a lie.
He needed to get away.
And then he made a reckless decision.
His feet pulled him toward an area of Bangkok he rarely visited—a cluster of alleys filled with neon-lit clubs and smoky lounges, places he and Arthur never had any interest in.
But tonight, Nick wanted to disappear.
He pulled in the entrance to a dimly lit tavern, the fragrance of booze and cigarette smoke clinging to the air. The music was loud, drowning away his thoughts, which was precisely what he wanted.
He slid into a barstool, scarcely addressing the bartender as he ordered a whiskey.
The first sip burnt his throat, but he loved the sting.
The second sip numbed him a little.
By the third, the borders of his thoughts started to blur, and for the first time that night, he didn't feel like he was suffocating.
Rough night? A voice beside him asked.
Nick turned his head slightly, catching sight of a stranger—dark hair, confident smirk, the kind of person who belonged at a setting like this.
Nick didn't answer. He just took another sip of his drink.
The stranger chuckled, "That bad, huh?
Nick exhaled, staring at the golden liquid in his glass. "You have no idea."
The stranger didn't press. Instead, he ordered another round and clinked his glass against Nick's.
"To forget"
Nick hesitated for a second before lifting his glass.
"To forget"
Meanwhile, Arthur Waits
Arthur sat on the couch in their flat, phone in hand, staring at the screen.
Nick still wasn't answering.
Panic coiled in his stomach.
He had called over a dozen times and texted even more, but nothing.
Nick had never neglected him like this.
Arthur ran a trembling hand through his hair, his mind racing.
Where was he? What was he doing? Was he okay?
"Please, Nick," Arthur begged to himself. "Please just come home."
But the stillness stretched on.
And Arthur was left alone, drowning in his shame.
Back at the bar, Nick wasn't sure how much time had passed. His body was heated from the drink, his head buzzing just enough to keep the discomfort away.
The stranger was still alongside him, their talk easy and meaningless.
Nick didn't care about what they were saying.
He just wanted to experience something other than heartbreak.
At some time, the stranger drew in closer, their voice a low mutter. "Want to get out of here?
Nick glanced at him, his head spinning.
He thought about Arthur, about the treachery, about how easy it had been for him to be in someone else's arms.
Nick clenched his jaw.
Maybe this was how it felt to be on the other side.
Maybe he should say yes.
But the instant the stranger's palm touched his, something inside Nick twisted.
No.
This wasn't him.
He wasn't going to become what he detested.
Without a word, Nick pushed away, put some dollars on the counter, and walked out into the darkness.
The streets of Bangkok sprawled before him, but he had no idea where to go.
All he knew was that he couldn't go home.
Not yet.
Hours passed.
By the time Nick sobered up, the sun was beginning to rise, casting a warm orange glow over the city.
He sat on the steps of an empty temple, his body fatigued, his psyche just as devastated as before.
Nothing had changed.
Arthur had still betrayed him.
Their love was still broken.
And Nick still didn't know how to move on.