Chapter 12: CHAPTER ELEVEN

Thame was scheduled to leave for Korea tonight.

His bags had been packed for a while now, all neatly arranged by the housekeeper. He had been given one free day to spend with his family, but the house was empty. His parents showed no interest in sharing a meal or spending time with him before his departure. They were too busy with their real estate business and had only remarked casually, “It’s just three months.

You’ll be back for the concert soon enough, no need to make a fuss.”

Thame knew it would be the same even if he were leaving for a year.

He had grown used to the emptiness of his home since he was a child. It no longer felt like loneliness—just an unchanging reality. He had no siblings, only a series of Golden Retrievers, all named “Happy.”

At home, Thame spoke mostly to his dog and occasionally to Alexa, asking her to play music.

One thing lingered in his mind, though: the orange tree.

He wasn’t sure who had been taking care of it. When he’d visited the Mars dorm the previous day, everyone’s belongings had dwindled to almost nothing. He couldn’t tell who from the band might have been stopping by.

But someone had. He thought back to what Po had said at the suit shop after recounting the story of the orange tree:

"You’re not a bad leader, Thame. You’ve done everything you could to make Mars succeed. The shame is that you all chose to drift apart instead of trying to mend what was broken."

Thame remembered those words clearly, spoken just as Po finished mending a suit.

—

Po answered his phone while buying his usual sandwich.

“What?”

“Aren’t you going to tell me anything about the Mars boys?” Baifern demanded.

“What do you want me to say? I’m a professional employee. I can’t leak company secrets, and I’m definitely not spilling the artists’ secrets.”

“Oh, please. I’m not asking for company secrets. I’m a good fan; I just want to know how cute they are. Were there any sweet moments? Did you meet my bias yet? Pepper?”

“I haven’t talked to your bias.”

“Ugh, what a waste. Why did I even help you get this job?”

“To help me get a job,” Po replied dryly.

“Well, congrats on that. Now, have you found a new man yet?”

Po blinked as the sandwich vendor handed him two sandwiches, as usual.

“120 baht,” the vendor said.

“I only ordered one,” Po muttered.

“What?” the vendor asked.

“Nothing. Two’s fine,” Po replied, paying as always. Baifern, overhearing everything, let out a mocking laugh.

“Seriously? You can’t even tell him you only want one sandwich? I give up on you.”

“Shut up.”

“When will you finally find someone else to buy sandwiches for?”

“Not anytime soon!”

—

Po returned to the suit shop with two sandwiches. Uncle Choi chuckled when he saw them but said nothing; his laughter said it all.

“Eat them and lock up when you’re done. I’m off to bed.”

Po nodded, unwrapping one sandwich. He stared at the other, debating whether to keep it for breakfast or throw it away.

Before he could decide, the shop’s doorbell rang. He turned toward the entrance and froze.

Standing in the doorway was someone who should have been at the airport, someone who was supposed to be gone from his life for the next three months.

“Thame? What are you doing here?”

“I don’t want to go to Korea.”

“What?”

“What you said to me… about it being a shame we didn’t try to mend things. I think I want to try.”

“But—”

“Po, I need your help,” Thame interrupted, stepping closer. “Help me bring my friends back and make Mars whole again. You’re the only one who can get through to them. You’re the only one who can help me.”

Po was stunned, speechless. He had no idea how to respond. Thame kept approaching, as though waiting for an answer.

For some reason, Po’s heart pounded. Maybe it was the intensity of Thame’s gaze, or the raw sincerity on his face—so different without makeup—or maybe it was the sheer determination of a leader who had never truly wanted to abandon anyone, who only wanted what was best for everyone.

“If you’re willing to help,” Thame said, gesturing to the sandwich Po was holding, “give me that sandwich. I saw you were about to throw it away. If you’ll help me, give it to me.”

Po stared at the sandwich in his hand. That sandwich had once symbolized care and devotion, a gesture he made daily for someone he loved. Baifern had once joked it would go to someone new in his life.

Slowly, Thame reached out for it, waiting.

Po made his decision. He handed the sandwich to Thame.

TO BE CONTINUED.