As Kieran settled into the taxi, en route to his residence, an overwhelming surge of emotion consumed him, and tears cascaded down his cheeks unabated. Unbeknownst to him, an indescribable weight had been imposed upon his heart due to Hardin's probing inquiry about his eventual return. The gravity of the situation pressed upon him, rendering him utterly desolate.
What if he couldn't fulfill that expectation? What if, by some unfortunate turn of events, his father discovered his cohabitation with Hardin? Kieran harbored an unwavering conviction that such a revelation would forever sever his connection to their shared abode, and consequently, to Hardin himself.
Upon his arrival home, Kieran ascended the staircase without delay, seeking solace within the confines of his room. The absence of his parents, who were still en route from the Philippines, offered a respite, sparing him from the obligation of engaging with either Arthit or the household staff. The burden he bore upon his shoulders seemed insurmountable, as if he were carrying the weight of the entire world.
What had he truly anticipated from this dwelling? It failed to evoke the comforting embrace of a traditional home, for it had become a place that crippled him emotionally. Collapsing onto his bed, Kieran found himself consumed by a maelstrom of thoughts. The impending arrival of his parents loomed ahead, mere hours away, intensifying the turmoil within him.
Weary and despondent, Kieran fixated his gaze upon the ceiling, his heavy eyelids succumbing to the weight of his exhaustion. As sleep enveloped him, he found a fleeting respite from the relentless torment of his relentless thoughts and haunting "what ifs." In the depths of his slumber, he yearned for a profound and uninterrupted rest, a sanctuary where he need not wake again.
The weight of his existence bore down upon him, the belief that he was an affliction upon his own family, a misfortune in the eyes of his father, eroding any remnants of hope within his fragile heart. As he drifted further into the realm of dreams, an unspoken wish lingered, the desire to vanish entirely, for his very presence seemed to cast a shadow upon the lives of those he loved.
Kieran stirred from his slumber, roused by the sound of jubilant laughter permeating the air. The merry echoes of celebration filled his senses as he stretched his arms and ventured out of his room. Descending the stairs, he was taken aback by the sight that greeted him—a tableau of blissful togetherness, his parents and Arthit gathered around the lunch table, radiant with happiness.
A bittersweet smile tugged at Kieran's lips. This scene was all too familiar, a recurring tableau of familial joy that he had grown accustomed to witnessing. While his loved ones reveled in shared moments of mirth, Kieran found himself grappling with the elusive pursuit of his own happiness, forever pondering how to attain the same sense of contentment that seemed effortlessly bestowed upon them.
Kieran's mother gently roused him from his dazed state, concern evident in her eyes as she posed a question that cut through the fog of his thoughts. "What's wrong with your face, Kieran?" she inquired, her voice laced with worry. "Come here, my son. I missed you. What happened? Were you involved in a fight?"
Kieran took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the weight of unspoken emotions. "I missed you too, Mom," he murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of relief and longing. He enveloped his mother in a tight embrace, seeking solace in her presence.
But his mother, undeterred, pressed for answers. "Please, Kieran. Tell me what happened. What's wrong with your face?"
Kieran hesitated, his gaze averted. "It's nothing, Mom. I'm fine," he replied, his words a feeble attempt to shield his pain from her worried eyes.
As Kieran distanced himself from his mother, his gaze shifted to his father, Mr. Pornthip. However, his father's indifference was palpable. Mr. Pornthip seemed oblivious to Kieran's presence, his face devoid of any emotion as he mechanically consumed his meal. Kieran mustered the courage to approach his father.
"Just sit there," Mr. Pornthip curtly commanded in a strained tone.
Feeling powerless, Kieran obediently took his seat, his heart heavy with a sense of isolation. His eyes met those of his brother, Arthit, who mirrored a profound sadness. Kieran couldn't discern the cause of it, uncertain if it was directed towards him or rooted in other complexities of their shared existence. As always, Arthit feels sorry for Kieran.
"Are you sure you're alright, son?" his mother asked with concern, noticing the numerous bruises on his body.
Kieran flashed a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Mom. I'm fine."
Mr. Pornthip turned his attention to Arthit. "So, Arthit, how's your work going?"
"I'm fully committed to my profession, Dad. My work at the hospital takes top priority," Arthit proudly replied.
"That's why I'm so proud of you." Mr. Pornthip patted Arthit on the shoulder. "I have something for you, Arthit."
"Is it from the Philippines?" Arthit asked excitedly.
"Yes, indeed."
"Thank you so much, Dad."
"No worries Arthit. You're a good son, you deserved it."
Arthit glanced at Kieran "Ah, Dad, Kieran was in university, and he belonged to the top five. Guess his entrance exam score.”
"Let's not talk about that. Respect the table Arthit.” Mr. Pornthip stopped eating, his face suddenly darkened when he heard Kieran's name.
Kieran's face turned crimson. Was it too much to ask for a little respect? Discussing his entrance exam in such a dismissive manner felt like a painful blow.
This wasn't the first time he had experienced his father's disregard for him. His heart ached with a poignant sorrow. Sitting there, he felt utterly broken and wounded. It was excruciating to be present in that room, his father feigning ignorance of his existence.
As he sat there, listening to their mundane conversations, he couldn't shake off the overwhelming sense of not belonging. It was a profound loneliness that engulfed him, highlighting his estrangement from his own family. He felt like sitting naked in the middle of some snarky jerks who laughed and insulted him.
Arthit hesitated, his voice trembling. "But Dad, my younger brother is—"
Mr. Pornthip's hand crashed down on the table with a resounding thud, causing an empty glass to topple and shatter upon impact. "I've warned you not to bring that up. What do you want from me? To applaud and celebrate a son who embraces immorality? Can you truly expect me to cheer and show support for a son whom I've invested so much in, only to see him choose a path shrouded in darkness?" He shook his head, disappointment etched deeply on his face.
"Honey," scolded Mrs. Suttiprapha.
"If others can accept it, I just can't wrap my head around accepting someone like Kieran. Why is it so hard for people to be honest, act with integrity, and live a normal life?" Mr. Pornthip's voice carried a tone of disapproval as he spoke, not bothering to look directly at Kieran.
"Dad, society has come a long way in accepting different sexual preferences and orientations. Kieran's intentions aren't malicious," Arthit countered, defending his younger brother.
"Pom tha mai dai." (The hell I can't) He shouted. “Good intentions? Do you mean by liking boys? Now tell me about Sodom and Gomorrah, Arthit.”
Arthit rose from his seat, a surge of determination evident in his voice. "Enough with the shackles of homophobia or any other biased beliefs you hold. Regardless of anything, Kieran is still my brother. You can't deny the fact that he's your own flesh and blood."
Kieran, sitting there in silence, felt a mix of emotions. He knew that speaking up would only escalate the situation further. While appreciative of Arthit's attempt to defend him, Kieran understood that Arthit was also constrained by fear—fear of their father's reaction.
"There's nothing else to say. I really effed up.” Mr. Pornthip stood up and left the table. He went to his room and slammed the door shut.
"I'm sorry, Pee and Mae, I'm so sorry," Kieran said and his lips quivered.
His mother enveloped Kieran in a warm embrace, her affectionate gesture flooding him with solace. Arthit, too, drew Kieran into an embrace, their shared act of compassion rendering him shattered, consumed by sorrow. Silently, tears cascaded down his cheeks, and after a contemplative pause, he resolved to go to his dad's room defying his mother's attempts to dissuade him.
Each step he took was burdened with a profound weight, as if he were traversing an insurmountable obstacle. Nevertheless, bereft of alternatives, he cautiously unlatched the door and crossed the threshold, his movements laden with deliberation. And once inside, he secured the door, locking the world out.
"What brings you here?" Mr. Pornthip inquired abruptly, his tone laced with urgency.
Kieran stumbled over his words, his voice faltering, "I just..."
"Simply articulate your desires, Kieran. But remember, you already possess the answer. If you implore me to accept you, then you already know."
"Dad-"
"Don't even address me as Dad, I implore you, for the sake of all that is sacred."
Tears streamed down Kieran's face, each word from his father inflicting unbearable pain upon him. "I'm sorry for being attracted to boys, sorry for not harboring the same personality like my brother Arthit," Kieran sobbed.
"I have already expressed that the solution to your plight lies within you."
Kieran sank to his knees, his voice trembling, "I apologize!"
"Gam-lang tham baa a-rai yùu wa?" (What on earth are you doing?) Mr. Pornthip's voice brimmed with confusion.
"I am deeply sorry, Dad."
"Now, let me enlighten you. I commanded Nuea to tail you and inflict harm," Mr. Pornthip's lips curled into a sinister grin.
Shock overcame Kieran, his eyes widening in disbelief. Why should he be surprised? Deep down, he had harbored suspicions that proved to be accurate. "I can't..." The realization that it was his own father who orchestrated the assault by Nuea and his cohorts pierced him with excruciating pain.
"Don't act like I was the one who committed mistakes here. Nuea told me about Hardin and you—” He clenched his fist in his lap. “St*pidest effing son.”
"Daddy, please," he said in a pleading voice.
"So much shame and disgrace. I wanted grandchildren from you, and here you were begging me to accept your relationship with that guy? And now I have a son-in-law? What is happening to you?" after saying this, he received a strong kick on his face from his daddy. He fell to the floor, and his mouth started bleeding.
"What honorable name are you carrying, Kieran?"
"Suttiprapha," he wipes his lips, stained with blood.
"Such a disgrace." Mr. Pornthip clenched his fist, grabbing Kieran by his shirt and delivering a forceful punch to his face. "How dare you, Kieran. I raised you to be a man."
Kieran's head jerked back from the impact, his eyes filled with pain and confusion.
"Do you love that guy?" Mr. Pornthip demanded.
"I do, and what's wrong with that? It's not about being gay." Kieran's voice cracked as tears welled up in his eyes.
"Do you even understand?" Mr. Pornthip spat in his son's face. "You're utterly repulsive. You were born a man to be a man, not to transition into a woman. You supposed to like girls not boys.”
"I have strong feelings for him. Dad, and he feels the same way about me," Kieran said tearfully, wiping his cheeks.
Mr. Pornthip pondered deeply. A plan formed in his mind, causing his entire face to brighten up. "Alright, don't worry."
"What are you saying, Dad?" Kieran asked with a fragile voice.
"Let me figure it out." He stood up, composed himself, and wiped the blood off his fist. "I'll do whatever it takes."
Kieran shook his head, aware of the malicious thoughts running through his daddy's mind. He could sense that his father was brewing something sinister, a plan to further crush him. The mere thought of it seemed to suffocate him, stealing away his breath. As his dad left the room, Kieran was left alone, hugging himself for comfort.
"If this morning is our last day together, why don't we make the most of it?" he whispered to himself, consumed by resentment. Yet, deep down, every fiber of his being hoped that his darkest thoughts wouldn't become a reality.