The airport was chaos.
Announcements echoed overhead, suitcases rolled across the floor like they had somewhere important to be, and people rushed in every direction with the confidence of those who definitely knew where they were going.
Wut did not.
"Why are we here so early?" he muttered, adjusting the strap of his bag.
"Because," Pheet said proudly, "I am a responsible traveler."
"You almost burned down my kitchen a few days ago."
"That's unrelated. Look just enjoy it this Okayy"
Wut sighed.
They moved through the crowd, checking the departure screens. Paris. Gate 23.
As they walked, Wut's eyes drifted lazily across the sea of faces.
Then—
He paused.
A familiar figure stood a short distance away, speaking to someone near the check-in counters. Tall. Composed. Dressed like he walked out of a magazine.
Phol?
Wut blinked.
Huh.
Weird.
But… whatever.
He looked away almost immediately.
There are millions of people in the world, Wut. Calm down. He's probably just traveling. Like a normal person. With normal reasons.
Totally normal.
"Come on," Pheet said, dragging him toward their line.
Wut followed.
Still, something felt… off.
The plane was already boarding by the time they reached the gate.
Wut scanned his ticket as he walked down the narrow aisle, counting seat numbers under his breath.
"17… 18… 19…"
He stopped.
His seat.
And someone was already there.
No.
Not just someone.
Phol.
Sitting calmly, one arm resting on the armrest like he owned the aircraft.
Wut stared.
Phol looked up.
"…You've got to be kidding me," Wut whispered.
Phol's lips curved slightly.
"Just my luck," he said.
Liar. Seriously?
"Move," Wut muttered, pointing at the seat.
Phol raised an eyebrow.
"That is your seat?"
"Yes."
Phol glanced at the ticket, then back at him.
"…Interesting."
"Interesting? What does that mean?"
"Nothing."
Wut narrowed his eyes but squeezed past him anyway, dropping into the seat.
Pheet, a few rows behind, leaned forward dramatically.
"WUT."
"No."
"WUT."
"NO."
"That's him, right?!"
"I said no."
"THAT'S HIM."
Wut covered his face.
This trip is already ruined.
The plane took off.
Wut tried to ignore the presence next to him.
Tried being the key word.
His brain refused to cooperate.
Why is he here?
Did he plan this?
No, that's crazy.
But what if it's not?
Wait… is he following me?
No. Stop. That's insane.
But what if—
"Stop thinking so loudly."
Wut froze.
"…Excuse me?"
Phol didn't look at him.
"It's distracting."
"I am not thinking loudly."
"You are."
Wut turned toward the window.
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
"…I might."
Phol didn't respond.
Silence settled between them.
Somehow… it wasn't uncomfortable.
And at some point, without realizing it—
Wut fell asleep.
When he woke up, the plane had already landed.
Passengers were standing, grabbing their bags, moving toward the exit.
Wut blinked, disoriented.
Phol was already gone.
Of course he is.
Great. Perfect. Disappear again like a ghost.
"Wut! Wake up!" Pheet shook him from the aisle.
"We're in Paris!"
"…Yeah. I noticed."
The hotel was elegant.
Too elegant.
Wut stepped inside and immediately felt underdressed.
"This place is expensive," he whispered.
Pheet grinned.
"Relax. We're guests."
Guests of WHO?!
They approached the check-in counter.
And there—
Standing casually, speaking with the receptionist—
Phol.
Wut stopped walking.
You've got to be kidding me.
Again?
Phol turned slightly, as if sensing him.
Their eyes met.
This time, Wut didn't look away.
He walked straight up to him.
"Okay," Wut said. "What are you doing here?"
Phol glanced at him calmly.
"Checking in."
Wut stared.
"…That's not what I meant."
"Then clarify your question."
Wut clenched his jaw.
"Why are you in Paris. On the same flight. In the same hotel."
Phol shrugged lightly.
"Business."
Cold. Simple. End of conversation.
Wut blinked.
That's it??
Before he could say anything else—
Pheet appeared out of nowhere.
"Oh! You're here too!" he said brightly.
Wut groaned.
Of course he is.
Pheet looked between them, then smiled like he just had the best idea in human history.
"Wait," he said. "Why don't you stay with us?"
Silence.
Wut slowly turned his head.
"…What?"
"It makes sense," Pheet continued. "We already know each other, and it'll be more fun."
"No, it will not—"
"I don't mind," Phol said.
Wut stopped.
"…Excuse me?"
Phol looked at him.
"I said, I don't mind."
Pheet clapped his hands.
"Perfect!"
Wut stared at both of them.
You know... i think this is how horror movies start.
Minutes later, they were in the elevator.
Wut stood between them, questioning every life decision that led him here.
Pheet hummed happily.
Phol stood quietly.
Too quietly.
Wut glanced at him.
"…You planned this, didn't you?"
Phol met his gaze.
"Planned what?"
"This... All of this."
Phol tilted his head slightly.
Then, almost lazily—
"If I said yes… would you believe me?"
Wut opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
"…No."
Phol smiled faintly.
"Exactly."
The elevator doors opened.
And just like that—
Wut stepped into a situation he was definitely not getting out of.