Chapter 16: CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Po felt slightly relieved that he hadn’t been caught, and Thame had managed to bring back two of his friends. Thame explained how Jun returned first, and after Jun, Pepper followed shortly after to their shared home. Pepper was naturally easygoing, but what surprised Po was Thame’s sudden change in mood after sharing this news.

“Why didn’t you call me at all!” Thame scolded, showing up at Uncle Choi’s suit shop, where Po was.

Po flinched at Thame’s outburst. “I was trying to handle Jun’s cornering me.

I didn’t think calling you would help since you were banned from entering the building anyway.”

“I could’ve figured something out! I could’ve called someone to help!”

Thame argued.

“And who would you call?” Po countered.

Thame went quiet. His expression made it clear he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“If you were going to help, why didn’t you call me yourself?” Po turned the argument around. He thought this would make Thame pause, but instead, Thame snapped back.

“You think I didn’t try? But when I gave you my number, did you give me yours?”

Po froze.

“You didn’t,” Thame answered for him.

“Oh…” Po realized, feeling guilty. Thame handed over his phone.

“Give me your number,” he demanded, his eyes fixed on Po. Po avoided his gaze, reached for the phone, but Thame quickly pulled it back.

“What, changed your mind?” Po asked.

“No, I just realized… I don’t want to save it in here. I’d rather remember it.”

“Why?”

“In case the company confiscates my phone one day,” Thame said, almost shyly, avoiding Po’s eyes. “I’d still want to be able to contact you.”

Po didn’t understand why Thame said this, but his words made Po’s face feel warm, and it seemed like Thame felt the same.

“Say those ten digits. I’ll remember them all.”

Po recited his phone number, and Thame repeated it slowly, over and over, with the same focus and care he seemed to give every task in his life. Po didn’t know if Thame treated everyone like this or if it was something special. He didn’t know much about Thame’s personal life. All he knew was that Thame’s sincerity made his heart swell.

No one had paid attention to these ten digits in a long time. For years, they were only his to remember. Now, someone else would hold onto them.

“I’ll remember yours too,” Po offered.

Thame chuckled softly, almost teasingly. “Then let’s remember each other’s numbers, okay?”

Po never thought something as mundane as a phone number could feel so significant. But somehow, it did.

—

That night, Thame called Po. When the call came through, Po was in the shower, listening to music. His phone was always on silent, so he missed the call. By the time he noticed, the ringing had stopped. Panicking, he scrambled out of the shower, barely drying off, and quickly dialed back, still half-dressed and with foam from his face wash clinging to his cheek.

Thame picked up after just one ring. “Po.”

“Uh, hey,” Po stammered, his voice uneven as he tried to wipe his face.

“What’s up?”

“I need your help with something. It’s about Dylan.”

Of course, work.

It made sense. What else would Thame call him about, if not work?

“I told you about the song I pitched to Pemika before I got the Korea offer, right?” Thame asked.

Po nodded, recalling the conversation. “Yeah, I remember.”

“What I didn’t tell you is… it wasn’t my song. It was Dylan’s.”

“Ah…” Po murmured.

“I promised him I’d push that song for the group no matter what. But before I could deliver on that promise, the Korea offer came. Dylan was furious when he found out I wasn’t going to fight for it anymore.”

Thame continued, his voice heavy. “That song is still in Winner Entertainment’s archives. It’s probably in the storage room in the basement.

Dylan never uploaded it to the cloud. He stored it on a hard drive. And when he found out I chose Korea over his song, he smashed it to pieces.”

Po could picture Dylan’s reaction - his silent demeanor masking a storm of emotions. Dylan had always seemed intense, the kind of person who could intimidate others without a word.

“Dylan didn’t want to be an idol,” Thame admitted. “He only stayed because he trusted me to get his music out there. And I let him down. If we can find that song and promise to fight for it, we might be able to bring him back.”

“I see,” Po nodded. “I’ll figure out a way to get it.”

“Jun will help you,” Thame assured him. “He’s good at making up excuses.

He’ll get you into the archives without raising suspicion.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him,” Po said with a small laugh. “Makes sense now why you said he had to come back first.”

“Exactly,” Thame replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“I’ll handle it,” Po promised.

“Thanks. That’s all I needed… Oh, wait.”

Po thought Thame was about to hang up, but then his voice softened.

“How was your day?”

The simple question, paired with Thame’s unhurried tone, made time seem to slow. He didn’t have to ask. He could have ended the call at work. But he didn’t.

“It was fine,” Po replied. “Just going through old clips of you guys to put something together.”

“Need help?”

Po hesitated. “No, I’ve got it.”

“Don’t say ‘no’ so quickly,” Thame chided gently. “I want to help.”

The sincerity in his voice caught Po off guard. Most people accepted his refusals without a second thought. But Thame… Thame insisted on being there for him.

“Alright,” Po relented. “I’m piecing together something sentimental - like a farewell montage.”

“Got it. Check out the clip from our trip to Hua Hin, about two years ago.

There are some good moments there.”

Po jotted down Thame’s suggestions, his heart swelling with warmth at the small but significant gesture. Thame wasn’t just giving him a task; he was sharing pieces of their story.

Po felt something different that night. It wasn’t the giddiness of infatuation or the rush of excitement. It was quiet, comforting, and deeply fulfilling. It was a connection that lightened his burdens and left him wondering if this was what love - real, enduring love - felt like.

TO BE CONTINUED.