Chapter Text
Fourth Nattawat had always done his best to achieve whatever he set his mind to. It wasn't about loving school or being obsessed with grades—it was about the quiet satisfaction of knowing he could win. In middle school, he was the top student. Not because he enjoyed studying, but because being the best made him feel... enough. Like he was in control. Like he mattered.
Now, at fifteen, he was starting over.
After moving from Pattaya to Bangkok, he was set to begin his high school life at Niyomsil High School, a well-known private school with its fair share of ambitious students and intimidating standards. The reason for the move? His older brother, Nani Hirunkit, had landed a new job in the city. At twenty, Nani now took care of them both, ever since their parents passed away in an accident when Fourth was just eight.
It had always been just the two of them since then.
Despite the academic pressure, Fourth wasn't what most people would label a "nerd." He had a bright, fun personality that drew people in. At his old school, he was well-liked—some would even call him a heartthrob. The kind of boy who was just as comfortable cracking jokes with his friends as he was acing his exams.
He liked singing, he had a voice people remembered, but he hadn't performed in front of a crowd since he froze on stage at age seven. That day stayed with him, tucked quietly into the back of his mind. He also loved football and had played midfield in middle school, often praised for his sharp reflexes and smooth coordination. But above all, he had this unique charm—something in the way he carried both softness and strength.
Now, stepping into the gates of Niyomsil High School, Fourth was determined to make his mark again. But something about this place felt... different. And soon, he would learn that this new chapter of his life wasn't just about school, rivals, or goals. It was about secrets—ones hidden in quiet glances, shifting shadows, and even behind the familiar face of the brother he trusted most.
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The morning sun filtered softly through the curtains of Fourth's new room, casting a warm glow across the simple white walls. He stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of his neatly pressed Niyomsil High School uniform. The fabric felt a little stiff, the blazer slightly oversized on his slim frame, but he didn't mind. What mattered was that he looked presentable.
He smoothed down his hair, tousling it slightly for a more casual, effortless look. "Not bad," he muttered to himself, offering a small nod to his reflection. Still, as he stared into his own eyes, he couldn't help the flutter of nerves in his chest.
Bangkok was nothing like Pattaya. It was louder, faster, brighter. People here walked with purpose, dressed like they were heading to fashion week, and drove cars that looked like they belonged in magazines. Fourth worried—would they judge him if they knew he wasn't from a wealthy background? Would they think he didn't belong?
"Fot, when you're done, come down for breakfast!" Nani's voice echoed up the stairs, warm and familiar.
"Okay, hia!" Fourth called back.
He grabbed his backpack, took one last look in the mirror, and left his room.
The smell of warm rice and fried egg greeted him in the kitchen, along with the sight of his brother, already dressed for work in a crisp white shirt. Nani looked up and smiled, sliding a plate across the table. "Eat up, little man. First day of high school. Big deal."
Fourth chuckled as he sat down. "Yeah, kinda is."
After breakfast, they got into Nani's old sedan and made their way through the busy Bangkok streets. The city buzzed with energy, filled with the sounds of honking horns, street vendors shouting out offers, and the low hum of morning chatter. As they neared the school gates, Fourth's heart started to race.
Nani parked near the front and gave his brother a pat on the shoulder. "Good luck on your first day as a freshman at Niyomsil, Fotfot. You got this."
Fourth grinned. "I will, hia. Thanks."
As the car pulled away, he stood there for a moment, staring up at the modern, multi-story school building. The campus looked massive compared to his old school. White-walled with glass-paneled hallways and a wide-open courtyard that was already bustling with students in matching uniforms. Some groups laughed in circles, others scrolled on their phones or sipped coffee.
He took a deep breath.
"Let's go all in and be the best." He whispered, crossing his fingers before stepping forward.
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Room 1/3 was on the second floor, and when he found it, the chatter inside was already lively. Desks were arranged in rows with two chairs each, the walls were lined with shelves filled with books and club posters, and sunlight poured through the wide windows, casting soft light across the floor.
He quietly walked in and made his way to an empty seat near the window. As he sat down and took out his notebook, a boy with sleek hair and sharp features slid into the seat beside him. He gave a laid-back smile and offered his hand.
"Hey. I'm Satang. Satang Kittiphop."
Fourth blinked. There was something effortlessly cool about this guy—a calm, confident vibe, like he didn't care what people thought but still somehow charmed everyone.
"I'm Fourth. Fourth Nattawat." He smiled and shook Satang's hand. "Nice to meet you."
Before long, a few students wandered over to their desk, curious about the new face in the room. Some leaned in to ask questions, others just came to stare.
"Where are you from?"
"Why'd you transfer here?"
"Are you mixed? Your eyes are so pretty—like, seriously."
Fourth, a bit overwhelmed, answered politely, "I'm from Pattaya. Moved here because my brother found a job in the city."
More compliments followed.
"Wow, both of you look like you came from a magazine."
"Are you a model or something?"
One girl even winked at him and said, "You better watch out—someone might fall for you on the first day."
Fourth laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "I... uh... thanks?" He really didn't know how to react.
Eventually, the teacher entered, and the class quieted down. Fourth exhaled in relief and tried to focus, even though he was still a little dazed from the attention.
When the bell rang, students started pouring out, chatting about lunch and club sign-ups. Satang slung his bag over his shoulder and turned to Fourth.
"Hey, you think of joining any clubs?"
"Maybe the football club," Fourth replied, "or the music club."
"Why not both?" Satang grinned.
Fourth let out a laugh and gently smacked the back of Satang's head. "Are you crazy? I wish I could, but there's no way I'd survive doing both. I guess I'll go with football."
Satang chuckled, rubbing his head playfully. "Suit yourself. You'll kill it either way."
As the day came to a close, Fourth felt lighter. He hadn't expected to make a friend so soon—especially not one like Satang, who felt oddly reliable in a place that was still so unfamiliar.
When Nani came to pick him up, Fourth opened the car door with a smile.
"I was thinking," he said as he got in. "Since the school isn't that far, and I've got a bicycle... I'll start cycling to school from tomorrow. I don't wanna burden you every day."
Nani raised an eyebrow. "You sure? It's hot and the roads can get crazy."
"I'll be careful," Fourth promised.
Nani sighed dramatically, then laughed. "Fine. But you better message me when you get there."
"Got it, hia."
As they drove home, Fourth leaned back in the seat, eyes flicking out the window at the fast-moving city around him. His first day at Niyomsil High had been a success, more or less. He had a friend, a goal, and a dream.
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The third day of school arrived without much fanfare.
The morning started just like the ones before—Fourth got ready in his room, cycling to school with the cool breeze brushing against his cheeks. The initial excitement had worn off, replaced by a quiet sense of routine. His uniform was already less stiff now, molded to his shape, and his hair fell into place without much effort.
But something was different.
Unlike the first day, fewer people came up to talk to him. In fact, most of his classmates seemed to have already settled into their own little groups. They chatted in tight circles during breaks, huddled in familiar corners of the classroom, laughing over inside jokes that Fourth wasn't a part of.
He didn't mind too much—not really. But it left a small ache in his chest. A soft reminder that being the new guy meant feeling invisible once the novelty wore off.
Still, he had Satang. They sat together every day, talked during class breaks, and teased each other like they'd been friends longer than three days. It helped. It made everything feel less lonely.
They were sitting in their usual spot by the open classroom window when a boy walked up to them—his presence gentle but confident.
He was slightly taller than both of them, with soft features and a kind smile that felt like sunshine. He wore the same uniform as everyone else, but something about the way he carried himself felt different—calm, genuine, unaffected by the need to impress.
"Hi," the boy said brightly, stopping in front of their desk. "I'm Phuwin Tangsakyuen."
He extended his hand toward them, waiting with a quiet patience. Fourth blinked in surprise but stood to shake it. "I'm Fourth. This is Satang."
"Hey." Satang gave a small nod and shook Phuwin's hand too. Phuwin smiled again, softer this time. "Nice to meet you both. You looked chill, so I thought I'd come say hi." And just like that, the conversation flowed.
Along the way of their conversation, Satang said "Okay, I'm joining Music club and that is period". "That's cool, i'm thinking "
Phuwin shared that he loved listening to music—especially acoustic songs—and that he sometimes sang for fun but never in public. He had this way of talking, like everything he said was laced with laughter, even if he wasn't joking. His personality was vibrant without being overwhelming, like a warm breeze that made you want to lean in closer.
To Fourth's surprise, both he and Satang clicked with Phuwin instantly. It didn't feel forced. There was no awkward small talk. Within minutes, they were laughing over silly stories about teachers, music, and food.
For the first time since the first day, Fourth felt like he was actually part of something.
That afternoon, Fourth invited Phuwin to hang out after school, and Satang tagged along without hesitation.
They went to a nearby diner, a charming, well-known spot famous for its Hainanese chicken rice. The place was always buzzing with locals and university students, drawn in by the warm atmosphere and the smell of perfectly cooked rice and broth. It wasn't flashy, but it had character. A local gem.
Fourth had been here before a few times—not just because of the food, but because his brother, Nani, worked there.
Nani wasn't the owner, but he'd landed a stable job here as a cook and occasionally helped run the floor. The pay was good, especially for Bangkok, and the customers loved the dishes he prepared. But even though the diner closed at a reasonable hour, Nani always came home late.
Fourth had started noticing it. The bags under his brother's eyes. The tired way he smiled. The way he brushed off questions like, "Did work end late again?"
He didn't press. But a small part of him wondered. Did Nani have a second job? And if so... what kind of job would keep him so late but stay so quiet? He tried not to think about it too hard. Not now.
That evening, the three of them sat at a corner table. The diner smelled like garlic, chicken fat, and jasmine rice. It was warm and a little noisy, but comforting in its familiarity.
When Nani came out from the back to serve a dish to another table, he did a double take at Fourth and his friends. "Yo, Fot. These your friends?" Fourth waved him over. "Yeah, this is Satang, and that's Phuwin. They're in my class."
Nani gave both of them a quick once-over, then nodded in approval. "Nice. You guys eating here? It's on me—today only. Welcome." Phuwin gave a grateful bow. "Thank you, Phi Nani. I've heard about this place. The chicken rice is famous, right?"
"You heard right." Nani smirked. "Let me know if you want extra rice."
As Nani walked back into the kitchen, Satang leaned in. "Your brother seems cool."
"He is," Fourth replied quietly. "He works hard."
They ate and talked for hours, sharing funny stories about middle school, favorite food, dreams, and random things like how Satang once tripped on stage during a play and just stayed there pretending he was dead.
It was warm. Comfortable. A moment of peace.
Fourth laughed so much that his cheeks hurt. And for the first time since moving to Bangkok, he felt okay. Like maybe, just maybe, he could build something here.
Something real.