"Mok, look over there. That's the Faculty's Legendary Painting wall," P'Oat said, pointing to a grand display. "If you do well, your work will be showcased right there. For the Department of Sculpture, we have a separate gallery. Every major department that wins the annual talent contest gets their masterpiece placed in a key location around the faculty. It's a huge honor, right."
Mok simply nodded in silence. He didn't want to say much, but he also didn't want to seem rude or arrogant to his senior, so he offered a polite, quiet smile instead.
"Anyway, let's head inside. The Professor is probably already waiting for us," P'Oat added, gesturing toward the heavy wooden doors.
While Mok met the faculty, Toffee was busy
getting lost in the grandeur of the Arts building , he found himself surrounded by the works of prominent painters. The history and grandeur of the massive building, filled with famous masterpieces, made him feel an overwhelming urge to pick up a brush himself.
Lost in his thoughts and gazing up at the high, ornate ceilings, Toffee didn't notice the student walking toward him.
CLATTER....
With a sudden clatter, he bumped right into a freshman carrying a heavy load of sculpture tools.
The raw clay in the student's hands slipped and hit the floor with a dull thud.
"I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!" Toffee gasped, his face flushing with panic.
"It's alright, I'm okay," the freshman replied calmly, steadying his remaining tools. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt?"
"I'm fine, but look at your materials! The clay is all over the floor—you can't use that anymore!" Toffee gestured frantically at the mess.
"Please, let me buy you new ones. It was completely my fault for being so clumsy."
"Really, it's fine. I can just grab some more later," the boy insisted with a gentle smile.
"No! I won't be able to sleep tonight if I don't make it up to you," Toffee begged, his eyes wide. "If you won't let me buy the clay, then at least let me treat you to lunch. Please?"
The freshman chuckled at Toffee's persistence.
"Okay, okay. If it makes you feel better, lunch sounds great."
"Oh, thank goodness! I'm Adirak, but you can just call me Toffee, khrab."
"Nice to meet you, Toffee.
I'm Metawin, but my friends call me Lamon, khrab."
"Lamon? Your name is so cute!" Toffee chirped, his energy instantly returning.
"Yours is pretty sweet too," Lamon teased.
"Wait, so are you from the Department of Sculpture?" Toffee asked, eyeing the tools.
"Actually, no. I'm from the Department of Music—it's just across the hall. My sister is a fourth-year in Sculpture, though. She's been so busy lately that I wanted to help her carry some of her supplies up to the studio."
"Wow, you're such a sweet brother!
The Sculpture department is upstairs, right? I was actually heading up there for a tour. Why don't we go together, Lamon?"
"That sounds like a plan," Lamon agreed.
"Wait! Before we go, let's exchange numbers so I can message you about that lunch," Toffee said, pulling out his phone.
"Sure. Here, you can scan my code."
As they began to walk, Toffee reached for the heavy bag of tools.
"Let me help you carry some of these, Lamon!"
"I've got it, really—"
"No, no! Let me help!" Toffee insisted, stubbornly grabbing a handle.
"So this is the Sculpture Department," Toffee whispered, inhaling deeply. "The scent of old wood and wet clay... it's piercing, but I love it."
Lamon watched him with a soft smile.
"You look exactly like my sister when she walks in here. She does the exact same thing." I think it's some kind of 'Art Syndrome."
"I think so too," Toffee giggled, and the two shared a lighthearted moment as they set the heavy materials down on a workbench.
While Toffee began to admire the unfinished masterpieces scattered around the studio, he noticed Lamon's gaze shifting restlessly. Lamon was searching for someone, his eyes darting toward the door with an intense longing.
"Lamon? What are you looking for?"
"Ah, nothing, Toffee. Just... wait a minute.
Stay here!" Before Toffee could answer, Lamon turned and sprinted into the corridor.
"P'Chay! P'Chay!" Lamon called out, breathless as he caught up to an older student.
"Lamon? Why are you panting like that?" P'Chay asked, surprised.
"Can I ask you something, P'Chay? Where is... where is P'Oat?"
"Oh, Oat? He's handling the forum applications for the freshers today. He's likely tied up with that. Why? Do you need something from him?"
Lamon's shoulders slumped slightly.
"No... I just haven't seen him in a while, that's all."
"I see. Well, I have to run, someone's calling for me. See you later, Lamon!"
"Bye, P'Chay," Lamon murmured. He stood still for a moment, his voice barely a whisper. "It really has been a long time..."
"P'Oat? I know him," a voice chirped from behind.
Lamon jumped, spinning around to find Toffee standing there with a knowing look. Lamon's face flushed a deep crimson, his hands fidgeting.
"Toffee! I... it's not like that!"
"Not like what?" Toffee teased, stepping closer.
"What do you want with P'Oat, hmm?"
Lamon hesitated, his shy demeanor returning tenfold.
"P'Oat is my sister's friend. I just... wanted to see him.
" He tried to hide his blushing face, but his small, nervous movements gave him away.
Toffee's expression softened, his teasing replaced by genuine curiosity.
"Lamon... do you like him?"
Lamon went quiet, his gaze dropping to his shoes.
"I do," he admitted softly. "But he doesn't feel the same. He only sees me as a younger brother."
"Did you ever tell him?"
"I did... once. He rejected me," Lamon said, his voice trembling slightly.
A shadow passed over his face, looking as heavy as a sudden rainstorm.
"Now, it's enough for me just to see him from a distance. That's all I need."
Toffee felt a pang of sympathy for his new friend. He reached out, patting Lamon's shoulder gently.
"Don't be sad, Lamon. You have such a kind heart. Someone like you deserves to be happy—and you will be."
He gave Lamon a bright, encouraging smile to break the gloom.
"Now, how about the tour of the Music Department? Show me your world, and then we'll go get the best meal on campus. My treat!"
Lamon looked up, his eyes clearing.
You'd be okay with that?"
"Of course! I'd love to see it," Toffee said brightly.
"Unless you have other plans? You can tell me if you're busy."
"What plans? You're the first real friend I've made today! It's more than okay," Lamon smiled, his shy demeanor melting away. "Let's go, Toffee!"
"Let's go!" Toffee agreed, following him toward the exit. "Oh, and I have another friend—well, a childhood friend. His name is Mok. I'll introduce you to him later, okay?"
"Mok? Sounds like a cool guy. I look forward to meeting him!"
Oh, trust me, only his name is cool.
The guy himself? Not so much!" Toffee teased, waving a hand dismissively.
Lamon finally let out a genuine laugh.
"I feel much better now, Toffee. Thank you. It's like a weight has been lifted off my chest."
"You can tell me anything, Lamon! Didn't you say I'm your very first friend here?" Toffee beamed, bumping his shoulder playfully.
"It's true," Lamon admitted softly.
"I mostly just know a few seniors who come over to the house to hang out with my sister. I don't really have many friends my own age."
Toffee stopped, cleared his throat dramatically, and stood tall.
"Sawatdee khrab! I am Toffee, khrab. Starting today, I am officially Lamon's best friend, khrab!"
Lamon giggled, mirroring his stance.
"And I am Lamon, khrab. Starting today, I am officially Toffee's best friend, khrab!"
"Okay! Let's go!" Toffee cheered, but was interrupted by his phone buzzing in his pocket. "Oh, it's Mok. Just a second...
Mok stood outside the professor's office, still processing their conversation.
"Mok, you should really consider what the professor mentioned," P'Oat said, leaning against the doorframe.
"P'Oat, I—" Before Mok could finish, P'Oat's phone began to ring incessantly.
"Wait a minute, Mok. Hello? Kao? I told you, I didn't find it. If it turns up, we'll definitely get it to you. Look, you know I'm busy too; my own chores are piling up! Why can't you just send a group to find your gear? It's your gear, shouldn't you at least be responsible for it?" P'Oat sighed, listening to the frantic voice on the other end. "Wait, is Artit okay with this?"
A muffled, panicked voice drifted from the phone: "Artit is going to kill me! I'm practically dead! Oat, do something!"
"I'm busy! Ugh, fine... let me think. I'll call you back. Bye." P'Oat hung up and let out a deep, exhausted sigh.
"P'Oat? P'Oat..." Mok called out softly.
"Oh! Sorry, Mok. I was lost in thought. What were you saying?"
"Is this the 'gear' you were talking about?" Mok asked, pulling a mechanical part from his bag. "I found it in the hall where I was sitting yesterday."
P'Oat's eyes widened in pure overjoy. Without thinking, he pulled Mok into a sudden, tight hug. Mok froze, completely taken aback by the physical contact. "You are a lifesaver! You aren't just the King of our department; you're the King of the whole college!"
"P'Oat... please don't call me that," Mok muttered, though he handed over the badge-like gear.
"Thank you so much for finding this. Kao is usually so responsible, I have no idea how he lost his gear.
" Suddenly, P'Oat's phone screamed for attention again.
"May is calling now... just a second, Mok. Hello, May? ... What? A problem in front of the Music Department? Okay, okay, I'm coming right now! Just give me a few minutes!"
P'Oat turned to Mok with a desperate look.
"Mok, can I ask you a huge favor? Can you drop this gear off at the Faculty of Engineering? I have to run!"
P'Oat started sprinting away, shouting back over his shoulder.
"Mok! Go to the Mechanical Engineering department and give that gear to Kaopun! Just ask for him... Oh, and don't call him 'Kaopun,' he hates it! Just call him Kao! I'm going! Sorry! And I will treat to sometime ".
Mok stood there, completely puzzled as P'Oat disappeared into the distance. "What did he even say? I only caught 'Kaopun from Mech'..." He looked down at the gear in his hand and sighed. "Do I really have to go all the way there? What a bummer."
With a slight hesitation, Mok walked to his car and drove toward the Faculty of Engineering.
Once he arrived at the Mechanical department, he froze like a statue, his social battery already draining as he debated how to find the gear's owner in such a massive building.
After finally mustering enough courage, he stopped a passing senior. "P... P'khab? Can I ask you something? Do you know where I can find Kaopun from Mech?"
The senior blinked. "Kao? I know him. Go straight, take a right, head upstairs, and turn right again. You'll find him in the workshop."
"Thank you, P'," Mok said with a polite nod.
As Mok hurried away, the senior stood there scratching his head. Wait... did he just call him 'Kaopun'? No way. Kao hates that name. Oh well, not my business.
Following the instructions, Mok eventually reached the workshop studio. He stepped inside, the heavy scent of grease and metal filling the air. "Hello... P'khab? Can I ask something?"
"Go ahead," a student answered without looking up.
"I'm looking for P'Kaopun, khrab."
The room suddenly fell into a chilling silence. Every senior in the workshop froze, their tools hanging mid-air.
"Who dares to call me that?" a heavy, cold voice growled from directly behind Mok.
"Who gave you permission to use that name?"
The other students whispered frantically. "Oh man, that freshman is dead. He doesn't know Kao hates that name? He's going to get hit for sure."
Mok turned around slowly. His eyes met Kao's, and for a second, the tension was suffocating. But as soon as Kao registered Mok's face, his entire demeanor shifted. The cold, predator-like gaze vanished, replaced by the soft, wide-eyed look of a puppy.
"Oh... you," Kao stammered, his voice turning sweet and airy. "I'm... I'm Kaopun. I mean, you can call me Kao. But if you want to call me Kaopun, you can. You can call me whatever you like!"
The seniors were stunned. Kao—the guy who was ready to fight anyone except Artit—was now practically wagging his tail.
"What do you want from me?" Kao asked, leaning in closer. "Is there anything you need?"
"I'm the one who found your gear," Mok replied, trying to maintain his composure. "P'Oat was busy, so he asked me to bring it to you. Here's your pin. I'm leaving now. Bye."
"Hey, wait!" Kao grabbed Mok's hand softly, stopping him in his tracks. "Don't go yet..."
"Cute..." Kao whispered under his breath.
"What?" Mok asked, pretending he hadn't heard the compliment.
"Well, I already told you my name. Can I know yours?"
"Mok, khrab. My name is Mok."
"Mok... even your name is cute," Kao beamed, his heart clearly visible in his eyes.
Mok looked away, his ears turning slightly pink as he ignored the flirting.
"Mok, be a darling and do me a favor? We're so short-handed for the inter-college program. Stay and help me out, na?"
"No. Instant rejection."
"Aww, Mok... you really going to leave your poor, pathetic senior to suffer alone? Have a heart."
"My heart is fine, but I really have to go."
"Then at least let me bribe you with lunch. My treat, anywhere you want."
"Already have plans. Maybe next time," Mok said, trying to make a quick escape.
Kao's hand shot out, catching his wrist with a firm but lingering grip.
"Wait. You... you don't have a boyfriend, do you?"
"No, I don't."
"Good," Kao whispered, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "That's such a relief."
Mok looked away, feigning indifference to hide the heat rising in his cheeks.
"Since you're free, why not just stay here with me?
" Kao leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a sweet, persuasive honey. "Please? Just for me, Mok? Na krub?"
"No."
"Then stay! You saved my gear, so let me treat you to dinner once I'm finished here. Just stay right here where I can see you. Please?"
Mok felt overwhelmed by Kao's intense energy.
Wanting to end the conversation as quickly as possible, he gave a reluctant, unintentional nod.
"Fine. I'll wait."
"Wait, I forgot!" Mok suddenly realized. "I need to call my friend, and I still have his application form in my bag.
I forgot to submit it! Maybe next time for the dinner—"
"Hold on!" Kao grabbed Mok's hand firmly, then turned toward the shadows of the workshop. "Artit!"
A dark, brooding figure stepped out from the corner. Artit looked like the personification of a storm cloud.
"Artit, I know you can hear me! Are you going somewhere?
Submit this application for Mok's friend through the faculty system. You can do that, right?"
"No," Artit grunted. "And don't call me."
"Artit, please!" Kao turned back to Mok.
"Mok, what's your friend's name?"
"Toffee khrab," Mok answered.
"What a sweet name!" Kao chirped. Mok gave him a long, sharp look of suspicion.
Kao immediately panicked. "Oh! Mok, I just meant the name! Just the name! I don't mean anything else, I swear! My heart is 100% focused on you!"
Mok blinked. I didn't even say anything, why is he panicking?
Upon hearing the name 'Toffee,' Artit suddenly went rigid. His eyes narrowed, and he stepped forward with an intensity that made the air heavy.
"Give me the application," he commanded.
Mok was shocked. "But you just said—"
"Just give it to him, Mok!" Kao urged, snatching the form and shoving it into Artit's hand.
"He's a senior, but he basically runs the system. You can trust him."
Artit gripped the paper tightly, his eyes scanning the name Toffee over and over.
"I'm going," Artit muttered, turning on his heel and walking out without another word.
"Now, Mok, come with me!" Kao said, beaming with joy. "I'll give you a private tour of the whole department!"
"I really don't want to—"
"Don't reject me! Come on!"
"Wait! I need to call my friend first!" Mok protested as he was being led away.
"Okay, take your time!" Kao chirped, leaning his chin on his hand and watching Mok with a doting, happy smile that didn't leave his face for a single second.
Mok calling Toffee.....
Toffee takes the call...
Hello? Mok, where are you?"
"Toffee, I don't think I can make it," Mok's voice sounded rushed over the line. "I have to go somewhere urgently."
"Aow? Will you be late? What about our plans for this evening?" Toffee's face fell slightly.
"I'm not sure yet... I don't know if I'll be back in time."
"Fine then, Mok. I can go by myself. Don't worry about it!"
"Are you sure? You can really handle it alone?" Mok asked, sounding hesitant.
"Mhm! It's totally fine. Go do what you need to do."
"Okay... I'm hanging up then. Oh, and a reminder: don't eat too much greasy or sweet food while I'm not there to watch you!"
"Ugh, Mok! Just cut it out already! Bye!"
Toffee hung up with a huff and turned back to Lamon. "Anyway, let's go. Mok is going to be late, so he won't be joining us."
"Do you have somewhere specific you need to be?" Lamon asked.
"To dye my hair! See these roots?" Toffee pointed to the faint golden strands peeking through. "I usually keep it fresh, but I totally forgot in the chaos of starting college. Do you know 'Bloss Green Parlor', Lamon?"
"Oh, I know it! It's really famous for trending styles and great haircuts."
"Perfect! I know the owner, so that's where I'm heading. We can grab dinner afterward. I mean, if you want to come with me?"
Lamon's eyes lit up. "Really? I'd love to! Think of it as our first official best-friend hangout."
"Exactly! It's a 'friend date'! Let's go!"
"Let's go! But first, let me show you the Music Department. There was one time..." Lamon began, launched into a series of hilarious stories about the eccentric students in his department as they walked side-by-side. I heard ...