Chapter 11

The next few days slipped into routine. Jes found comfort in that.

His mornings were spent at the café, working the espresso machine with practiced ease, the familiar scent of coffee grounds and freshly baked pastries clinging to his clothes. His afternoons were spent holed up in his small workspace, editing photos on his laptop, adjusting the lighting and composition with sharp precision.

It was the way he liked things—predictable, structured. No disruptions. No unnecessary distractions.

But Ngern kept showing up.

Not physically—thankfully—but everywhere else.

On the café's small TV in the corner, playing a rerun of some variety show where Ngern was laughing alongside his co-stars. On posters in the mall, his face plastered across billboards for a luxury watch campaign. On YouTube ads, where Ngern would dramatically remove his sunglasses and say, "Time waits for no one—except for you."

Jes groaned out loud the first time that ad played while he was editing.

The café's radio didn't help either. One afternoon, while he was wiping down the counter, the DJ enthusiastically announced, "And up next, we've got Ngern! He's promoting his latest drama—stay tuned!"

Jes sighed as he twisted the cloth in his hands. Of course.

It wasn't that he had forgotten who Ngern was. Jes had known from the start that Ngern was a public figure. But somehow, spending time with him that night had warped things in his head.

That night, Ngern had been just a guy with a camera. A guy who took notes seriously. A guy who leaned in just a little too close when listening.

Jes had almost started to think of him as... normal.

But he wasn't.

Ngern was on TV. On billboards. On magazine covers.

Jes was just a guy who worked in a café and took photos in his free time.

There was no reason for their worlds to keep overlapping.

Jes scrubbed at the counter a little harder, willing himself to stop thinking about it. He had more important things to focus on—like finishing his edits for a client and making sure the café's pastry display didn't look sad.

Ngern would go back to his busy, flashy world.

And Jes would stay in his.

That was how it should be.

.............................................................

Jes wasn't sure what was more surprising—the fact that Ngern had shown up at his café, or the fact that he was suddenly acting like a stranger.

He had walked in quietly, wearing a mask and shades like he was trying to avoid attention, his hands shoved into the pockets of an oversized hoodie. Jes had only half-registered his presence as he took his order—a pastry and a drink, simple enough—until he finally looked up and met Ngern's gaze.

For a second, they just stared at each other.

Then, just as quickly, Ngern looked away. He gave a small, almost hesitant nod, then hurried off to a table in the corner without another word.

Jes frowned.

What the hell was that?

He didn't ask, though. If Ngern wanted to pretend like they barely knew each other, fine. Jes wasn't about to force a conversation.

Still, something felt off.

Jes carried out Ngern's order himself, balancing the tray carefully as he made his way over. As he reached the table, he set the plate down and said casually, "Didn't know you were a fan of late-night café runs."

Ngern just hummed, still looking away.

Jes narrowed his eyes slightly. Okay, seriously. This was weird.

"Ngern—" Jes started, but then Ngern finally pulled his mask down.

Jes gasped.

A bruise—dark, fresh, angry-looking—marred the right side of Ngern's cheek.

Jes immediately crouched down to get a better look, forgetting everything else. "What the hell happened to you?"

Ngern winced at Jes's sharp tone, touching his cheek lightly. "It's nothing."

Jes scoffed. Nothing? "You have a bruise the size of a damn golf ball on your face, and you're saying it's nothing?"

Ngern sighed, suddenly looking tired. "It's... work-related."

Jes frowned. "Work-related? What, did your manager start throwing things at you?"

That actually made Ngern laugh, but it was short-lived. He exhaled and leaned back. "It was a stunt scene. Went wrong. Didn't dodge in time."

Jes stared at him. "And you're just walking around like that?"

Ngern shrugged. "It's not as bad as it looks."

Jes crossed his arms. "It looks bad."

"Well, thank you, Doctor Jes, for the professional diagnosis," Ngern said dryly.

Jes rolled his eyes, but a flicker of concern still lingered. "Did you at least get it checked?"

Ngern waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah. The staff took care of it. I just needed some air."

Jes eyed him for a moment, then sighed. "You still look like you should be in bed, not sneaking into cafés like some kind of runaway celebrity."

Ngern smirked, finally looking at him properly. "You noticed?"

Jes snorted. "You're wearing sunglasses at night. It's a little obvious."

That earned another quiet chuckle from Ngern. But as the moment settled, his expression softened, and he said, "Didn't think you worked here."

Jes raised an eyebrow. "And if you had?"

Ngern tilted his head. "I dunno. Maybe I would've picked a different café."

Jes wasn't sure why that made something twist in his chest.

Before he could figure it out, Ngern picked up his drink and took a sip, sighing. "You gonna keep staring at my face, or are you gonna let me eat in peace?"

Jes clicked his tongue. "Eat your damn pastry, movie star."

Ngern grinned, and for the first time that night, Jes thought, Yeah, that's more like him.

..................................................................

Jes wasn't the type to fuss over people.

But as he walked back behind the counter, he found himself still thinking about that damn bruise on Ngern's cheek.

It wasn't just the way it looked—it was the fact that Ngern was here, alone, late at night, acting like it was no big deal. Something about that didn't sit right.

With a sigh, Jes reached into the café's small freezer and grabbed an ice pack. Then, he crouched to dig through his bag—he always carried a small first-aid pouch for when he went on shoots. Fishing out a small jar of medicinal balm, he tucked it into his apron pocket before turning back toward the counter.

He hesitated for a second. Then, on a whim, he grabbed a cup of lemon balm tea, pouring the hot liquid carefully. It was good for pain relief and relaxation. Not that he thought Ngern would admit to needing it, but whatever.

A few minutes later, Jes walked back to Ngern's table and set the tray down without a word.

Ngern blinked at the new additions. His eyes flicked between the ice pack, the jar, and the tea, then slowly lifted his gaze to Jes.

Jes simply pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. "Hold this to your face," he said, handing over the ice pack.

Ngern hesitated, then took it, pressing it lightly against his cheek. His lips twitched. "You always carry this stuff around?"

Jes shrugged. "I take a lot of outdoor shots. You'd be surprised how many times I've tripped over things."

Ngern snorted. "You? Tripping? That's hard to imagine."

Jes shot him a dry look. "Just because you see me once with a camera doesn't mean I'm some kind of expert in walking straight."

Ngern chuckled softly but said nothing more. He adjusted the ice pack against his skin, exhaling through his nose.

Jes leaned forward and nudged the jar toward him. "This'll help the swelling. Just rub a little on before you sleep."

Ngern studied the small container for a second before picking it up, rolling it between his fingers. "You didn't have to do all this, you know."

Jes huffed. "Yeah, well. You showed up in my café with a face looking like you lost a fight with a brick wall. Can't exactly ignore that."

Ngern laughed—a real laugh this time, low and warm. "For the record, the wall punched first."

Jes fought a smile. "Right. And the tea's for that, too?"

"Tea's for you to stop looking like you're about to lecture me on stunt safety," Jes shot back.

Ngern smirked but picked up the cup anyway, taking a slow sip. His shoulders relaxed just a little. "Lemon balm?"

Jes nodded. "It's good for pain relief. And sleep."

Ngern hummed, setting the cup down. His fingers tapped absently against the ceramic. "You know... I really didn't expect to run into you tonight."

Jes crossed his arms. "You think I planned this?"

"No, just—" Ngern trailed off, looking thoughtful. Then, almost as if talking to himself, he murmured, "It's kind of nice, though."

Jes stilled.

Something about the way Ngern said it—the quietness, the unguarded way his eyes softened—made Jes's breath hitch.

But before Jes could think too much about it, Ngern cleared his throat and leaned back. "Anyway, you gonna charge me extra for the tea and first-aid service?"

Jes scoffed. "No, but I should charge you for being an idiot."

Ngern grinned. "Too late, I was born that way."

Jes rolled his eyes, but as he watched Ngern sip the tea again, something settled in his chest.

He told himself it was nothing.

Just concern. Just mild irritation at Ngern's recklessness.

That's all.

...Right?