Chapter 3 : Lines we weren’t given

“There are things we were never told to say,

but our eyes said them anyway.”

The morning after felt… quieter.

Phuwin woke up to a beam of sunlight cutting through the window blinds, slicing across his bed like a spotlight. He lay still, letting the warmth rest on his face, eyes closed – not asleep, but not entirely awake either.

Pond’s voice from the night before still echoed in his mind.

“Then let’s stop pretending.”

He could still feel the ghost of Pond’s fingers brushing against his hand. So soft. So real.

For the first time in a long while, Phuwin wasn’t sure whether what he felt was relief, fear, or something in between.

Downstairs, Boom was already sitting at their usual café spot, sipping on a matcha latte and scrolling through Twitter half-heartedly. The hashtag #PondPhuwinComeback had been trending all morning.

Aou slid into the seat across from him, black coffee in hand, sunglasses still on even though they were indoors.

“You’re late,” Boom said without looking up.

“You’re early,” Aou countered, smirking.

Boom rolled his eyes. “We had the same call time. That means we should arrive at the same time.”

“I had to detour. Manager called,” Aou said casually, taking a sip of coffee. “You know how it is. Drama, contract stuff, minor crises.”

Boom looked up, narrowing his eyes. “You always have an excuse.”

Aou leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You always need a reason to be mad.”

Boom blinked, then sighed. “I’m not mad. I just – never mind.”

There was a pause. The kind that hung between two people with unfinished business and too many unsent messages.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Aou said finally.

“You’ve been busy acting like nothing ever happened,” Boom shot back.

The words landed heavy.

Aou didn’t respond right away. His fingers tapped lightly on his coffee cup. “It was one night, Boom. We were drunk. Emotional. Wrapped up in filming.”

Boom scoffed, eyes flashing. “So it meant nothing to you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t say anything.”

Silence.

Boom stood, grabbing his drink. “I’m going to the studio. Don’t be late again.”

As he turned to leave, Aou said, more quietly this time, “I remember everything about that night.”

Boom froze, but didn’t turn around.

“Even the way you said my name like you meant it.”

At the studio, the cast had gathered for a full rehearsal. Today was the first day they’d be reading through the entire script together – line by line, scene by scene.

Phuwin sat beside Pond, scripts open, highlighters ready. Their elbows brushed once or twice, and neither moved away.

Across the room, Joong and Dunk sat two chairs apart. Aou came in late, as expected, and Boom didn’t even look at him.

The director cleared his throat. “Let’s begin. Scene one: introduction. Emotions raw, tension unresolved. Remember, this isn’t just a love story – it’s about timing, about what we say and what we don’t.”

Phuwin flipped to the first page. His eyes skimmed the lines he was supposed to read – words he would say on screen, under lights, in front of cameras.

But some of those lines… he’d already said in real life.

Some, he wished he had.

Scene five. A confrontation. Pond’s character confesses he’s always loved Phuwin’s character but couldn’t say it back then.

Phuwin read the script in silence.

When it was his turn, his voice trembled slightly – whether from the script or from himself, no one knew.

“I waited,” he read. “I waited for you to come back. But all I got was silence.”

Across from him, Pond delivered his line without even looking at the paper.

“I thought silence would hurt less than rejection. I was wrong.”

The room went still. Even the director paused before calling cut.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Let’s… take five.”

Everyone shuffled to grab water or check their phones, but Phuwin stayed seated.

Pond leaned toward him. “That line. The last one. I meant it.”