"When you're a kid and you see gangsters living the life, 

you kind of want to be like that."

-Jaume Collet-Serra

//11:09 PM---Bar Black Panther//

"So, what are you planning to do?" asked Mark as he held the wine glass in his long and thin fingers, his nails forming wall without mortar. Can watched his face as he drank, but his thoughts were a total mess inside his head. His eyes swivelled towards the ceiling of the VIP room, took a long swig of the dark substance that affected him strongly. He had been dazing off for quite a long time as he observed the furniture in front of him changing figure in a blink of an eye.

The second wine was a dark-rose coloured Lafite, very soft and rich and beautiful.

Can's mouth was sore from the amount of alcohol that he poured down his throat. He tried to stand up as he wanted to pour himself another glass of red wine, but lost balance and fell back down on the couch. His headache overtook the comfort of the couch.

"I..I don't know." Can mumbled in a low voice, unsure if he was answering Mark's question or his own doubt inside his heart. 

"He doesn't remember me...Even though I haven't passed a day without thinking about him in the last 16 years, What can I do about him forgetting me?" His voice became extremely small at the end of his sentence. He pouted his lips and stared at Mark angrily. 

Can had a problem with alcohol: his personality completely switched while being drunk. It was as if he had Dissociative Identity Disorder, but only under the effects of alcohol. That was also one of the main reasons why Ram didn't let Can drink on his own. When Can needed a drink outside of his private bar at his mansion, Ram would take the role of a bartender. He was trained to become a bodyguard. However, nowadays this kind of job became hard to get too. You needed something more than just your fighting skills. 

On the other hand, Ram wouldn't let Can drink in public, because just imagine: if someone saw the only son of the famous Kijworalak family acting like a child and becoming extremely clingy toward men when he was drunk. What do you think the headlines would be in tomorrow's newspapers? 

"THE KIJWORALAKS' ONLY HEIR DARK SECRETS REVEALED: A BIG GAY MAN"

Maybe Can wouldn't mind this sort of news, but not so sure if his parents' hearts could always take this hit. Can continued to mumble something that Mark couldn't understand, but the tone of his voice indicated that clearly, he was sulking.

"I smell jealousy in the air," Mark said, clearly teasing the drunken one.

The boy suddenly lifted his head and looked directly into Mark's eyes—he stomped his feet and stand up.

"Why would I be jealous of an asshole like him?"

"Well, maybe you should ask yourself"

Can turned his head quickly and stared at Ram without saying anything. He was waiting for Ram to give him an answer; an answer that would relieve his headache. Ram was always all about business; deadlines, meetings and schedules. His face was never readable, like he left his emotions on Can's coffee table before work and scooped them up when Can had finished.

"Young Master, I think you just need to stop talking with Mark. You know very well that he always ends up twisting things," replied Ram slowly under the deadly glare of Can as he gently wiped the water off from a wine glass.

Mark chuckled when he heard Ram's answer. It was a really enjoyable sound unlike the hundreds of conversations told in loud voices, all of them competing with the rock music that dominates the atmosphere in the bar. Luckily, they were in a VIP room because their eardrums would explode if they stayed too long exposed under this loud music.

[Ram's POV]

The whisky turned down the volume of my thoughts. It brought memories of good times past, and I let myself dwell in them rather than think. I remembered the first time I saw Can was when we were still so young, so young to think anything about the future. I was adopted by a family who worked under the name of the Kijworalak. I thought that I had finally found my refuge, my own house, but I was wrong. It was by the time I reached 7 that I understood I was raised by an organization rather than a family like the majority of the orphans. An organization that built bodyguard.

They told me that my duty was to take care of a boy who was 2 years younger than me. He seemed to be very important even though I didn't know why.

"Ram, you can't trust anyone except yourself.'

"Ram, you need to remember—protecting this boy's life comes always before your own life."

"Ram, this child is your everything"

"It's our everything"

Of course, I couldn't get the real meaning of those words since I was still very innocent and pure. You can legitimately say that I passed most of my childhood in training rather than playing around with the other kids. I also went to school, but not the school that everybody went to; a private school. A school with one room, one table, one chair, one teacher, one student. 

"Another one pleaseee," Mark's voice suddenly interrupted my thought and I realized that the bottle of wine next to me was already empty. They sure drank fast.

"My apologies, but since the last bottle is already empty, I need to go ask them for a new one. It might take some time."

Without further ado, I stepped out of the room and walked to the dark local beer. It was really unintentional, but something caught my attention. The crowd was young, students from the university for the most part. There was a man sitting in the middle of a couch, cuddling a girl in each arm. I guessed seduction was what this man did best, moving into girls' personal space with just the right look of heat in his eyes. He didn't just look at them, he looked into them as if he knew their desires. 

In his arrogant triumph, he smirked - just a small pouting of the lips; a narrowing of the eyes and a tilting of the head. It was so subtle, but it made my heart beat a little faster. I could have walked away if it had not been for the smirk. That little rise in the corner of his mouth was combined with the cool detachment in his eyes. He was clearly savouring the moment as he swirled the whiskey in his glass, listening to the chinking of the ice cubes, breathing at a slow pace. 

Perhaps my stare was so intense, but he suddenly turned in a way I hadn't anticipated and our eyes met. After an awkward moment, the corner of his mouth twitched into his cheek. It transformed him from someone handsome into someone even more attractive. Just a smirk. That was how it all began. 

This man continued to look into my eyes and he slightly raised his eyebrows. I quickly looked away before this stare engraved in my mind like a tattoo. In this crowd, I believed myself to be an observer. I was no more than a part of a moving mass, someone who winded his way through the warm bodies to order a drink. Before I asked the bartender about my request, I felt someone melting their body to mine from behind and I knew the man from earlier has arrived behind me.

*question of the day: Have u ever dated or encountered a playboy/playgirl?*

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Have a nice day and new chap are coming up ;)