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The air was chilled, his air conditioning had stopped working as it had sprung a leak a few hours ago. Water dripping into the bucket was the only cutting through the silence, except for the low buzzing of a nearby fan.
He wasn't sure if it was morning, noon or night. The curtains were too thick to let any sun in, and for any trickle of light that came through, it barely illuminated even an inch of the room. His thick brown hair was stuck to his forehead, it felt oily, probably because he hadn't washed his hair in a while. The stuffy air tasted stale on his tongue, reminding him that he also hadn't taken care of the house for some time, nor had he taken care of himself either.
He could faintly hear his front door opening, but he couldn't be bothered to lift his head up to see who entered. Perhaps it was one of the government workers or agents here to pick him up for some boring meeting that ultimately wouldn’t contribute that much in the grander scheme of things. There shouldn't have been any events today, unless he had lost track of time, slumped over, useless on the ratty sofa. Mentally going through the list of people who had the key to his front door, he caught the sound of light footsteps slowly approaching his limp figure.
“Adithep,” a sigh sounded out, “What is wrong with you?”
Recognising the voice, Thailand lethargically lifted his head to look the intruder in the eye. A young woman stands behind the back of the sofa, arms crossed and eyebrows creased. Her dark brown hair tied up into a low bun, a few loose strands framing her face. Although it was too dark to tell.
“—and it smells like mildew in here, have you even gotten up from that couch?!”
Huh, her mouth was moving but he couldn't even make sense of it. It was a different language but similar enough that he understood what she was trying to convey. The world slowly faded in and he started to comprehend what she was saying.
“Did you even get my message?” she waves her hand in front of his face, “Better yet, can you even hear me?”
The personification of Laos stood above him, her gaze felt scrutinizing, as if he were just a bug beneath her. She seemed out of place in the dull and dreary atmosphere, her clothing casual and soft.
What was she doing here in the first place?
Water dripped on the floor, dotting the dusty floor slowly. Thailand could only stand on the bath mat, slowly losing focus and staring directly at the bathroom tiles before him. There were 15 tiles, if the half tiles beside the wall were also counted. He must have taken a shower, right? His skin felt damp and cold, so was the air conditioning working again?
A knock interrupts the stream of questions.
“Ai’ Sun, did you fall into the toilet?” a voice teased outside the door.
The response was automatic, “Your mom fell into the toilet.”
“We don't have parents!” the voice sounded amused and farther away, she must have just been checking in on him. Has it really been that long? Time felt fuzzy, directionless with nowhere to go. He checks his phone. A notification immediately popped up on the screen, stealing his attention.
Five percent battery left. When was the last time it was charged? How long has it been since it was on? How many days since—
“Take any longer and I will genuinely think you fell down the toilet,” Laos calls out, her voice cutting through the static, “We have plans!”
It laughs?
He laughs.
Thailand doesn't know what he replied with, but it must have placated her since her footsteps get quieter, walking away. He looks at himself in the mirror, feeling distant from his own reflection. His dark brown hair flops over his forehead, covering his eyes. He could’ve sworn the bags beneath his eyes weren't this pronounced, his ten step skincare routine made sure of that! So how long has he just existed without doing anything?
A clatter outside breaks him out of his spiraling. Thailand feels completely out of it, like his mind was all over the place.
Why can't he focus?
Either way, he pushes it to the back of his brain, burying it in the corner of his mind palace for next time he decides to lose himself again. Right now, he should probably leave the bathroom.
Where was he?
Everything was entirely colorful, yet it all looked like a muted blur to him. In his perception were vague spots that obscured his vision. Smells assaulted his nostrils, the perfume and cologne of the people around him flooding his senses. His skin itched and burned, the sensation of his clothes bothering him to an unbearable degree. He was wearing comfortable clothes, a simple white tee with a loose unbuttoned button up over it, they were made with quality, and yet it felt like ants were crawling all over his body.
Was the perfume and cologne actually suffocating him?
Why can't he breathe?
The conversations passing by him were loud but just as muted as the colours. Like someone stuffed cotton in his ears and shouted through them. Music and sound went through one ear and out the other, retaining any information felt impossible. It was loud but so quiet at the same time. He can't bear it.
Why can't he understand anything?
Is he moving? It doesn't feel like he's moving, even so, when he gets to put one foot before the other, it wouldn't move. His arms feel like lead, weighed down. Nothing is responding to his brain. He wants to leave. He needs to leave.
Where was he?
He tries to remember. Breathe in and out.
He is the personification of Thailand. He is a nation, a representative of the people. He is not human, not a creature. So why does he breathe the same air as them?
Breathe in and out.
His human name is Adithep, his nickname Sun. It's a farce, a mask to hide behind anonymity. To pretend and integrate into society. They don't know what he is, they don't care who he is.
One foot in front of the other.
He has dark brown hair and brown eyes, or was it gold? It keeps changing, to adjust and adapt to modern society. He is not the same person he was yesterday.
Look around.
The air tasted like bleach. All he wants to do is curl up into a ball and just observe the world. Or is he just playing god?
A familiar blob.
Did he forget to wear his glasses? He felt a weight on his nose, still, his eyesight was hazy. Not that he needed them, he has perfect vision. It's for blending in. To look friendly.
The familiar blob is closer now. He wants to say something but his throat doesn't cooperate.
Similar brown hair, purple eyes and an upset expression. She looks just like him, but different.
“Noy.”
He meant to shout but it just came stilted and awkward. Yet she heard it all the same. Her head snapped over to him, violet eyes tracking him down. She was getting nearer now.
“Sun!”
That breaks him out of his thoughts. Of course, he remembers now. He’s at the mall. The personification of Laos, the neighbouring country, invited him to a local mall nearby. They have too much history between each other, contention and partnership all rolled into one. She is his sister, Noy, in public to maintain secrecy, not by order but by personal choice. Dragging him out of his stupor and taking him outside is not necessary for international relations, but is obligatory for a family. So why not pretend?
His name is Adithep, but his nickname is Sun. He has a sister called Noy. They both have dark brown hair, but Noy’s is much more curly. His eyes are golden brown and hers are a warm violet. Her skin is sunkissed and his bruises easily. Their languages are similar, hers written with rounded corners, whilst his are marked with sharp and straight letters. They look like siblings, so they are siblings.
“If you really didn't want to come, then you could have stayed home,” Noy says apologically, staying close so as to not lose him to the crowd again. He smiles back at her.
“And leave you rogue in my country?” Sun replies, “In your wildest dreams.”
His sister rolls her eyes before dragging him to a store that caught her eye. Soon, this trip will be over and the next time they meet will be in a conference hall, talking politics, but for now they are a pair of siblings just shopping.
They’ll be alright.