The TV filled the room with noise that didn't quite matter.
Voices overlapped, dramatic music swelling and falling like it expected an audience that actually cared. Pheet didn't. He lay across the bed, one leg hanging off the edge, lazily scrolling through his laptop while the screen flickered in the background.
It was comfortable.
Too comfortable.
His phone started ringing.
He ignored it.
It kept ringing.
Pheet sighed, dragging a hand over his face before reaching for it. "You better be dying," he muttered under his breath as he checked the caller ID.
Pliva.
Wut's sister.
That got his attention.
He sat up slightly and answered. "Hey."
"Heyy, Pheet," she said, her voice bright but carrying a thin layer of urgency. "Hi, how are you?"
"I'm fine. You?"
"I'm good. Um—have you seen Wut? I can't reach him."
Pheet glanced toward the door, then back at the empty room.
"He went out. He'll be back in a while. Why?"
There was a pause, like she was deciding how much to say.
"Oh… okay. Dad said that after the trip, he should come home and talk to him."
Pheet's brows lifted slightly. That didn't sound casual.
"…That's all?"
"Yeah, I think so. Byeee."
"Yeah. Bye."
The line clicked dead.
For a second, Pheet just stared at the phone before tossing it onto the bed beside him.
"…Family drama," he muttered, leaning back again.
The TV continued its performance, completely ignored.
Then—
The door opened.
Wut walked in first.
Phol followed.
And instantly, something felt… off.
Pheet didn't know how to explain it, but the air shifted. Like walking into a room where a conversation had just ended, except no one admitted there had been one.
Still, they came back together.
That said enough.
Wut's voice cut through first. "What was that?"
Pheet pushed himself up on his elbows. "What? Ahh... Told you. Urgent matters."
Wut frowned. "And?"
"Your father called."
Wut's expression changed immediately. "What?"
"Wait. No—Pliva, your sister called." Pheet clarified, sitting up fully now. "She said your dad wants to talk to you."
A beat passed.
"…Now?" Wut asked.
"Well... After the trip."
Wut exhaled, tension loosening just slightly in his shoulders.
"…Okay. That's fine."
But it didn't last.
His gaze sharpened again, flicking briefly toward Phol before returning to Pheet.
"Anyway, what was so urgent that you left your best friend with—"
He stopped.
Mid-sentence.
Because he looked up.
And Phol was already looking at him.
Not casually.
Not accidentally.
It was the kind of look that made time hesitate for half a second too long.
Pheet noticed.
Of course he did.
Wut's expression tightened almost instantly, like he'd caught himself in something he didn't want to name.
"…Never mind," he muttered, turning away. "Forget it."
He grabbed his clothes and headed straight for the bathroom.
The door shut.
Water started running almost immediately.
Too fast.
Too loud.
Pheet stared at the door, then slowly turned back to Phol.
"…What's up with him?"
"I don't know."
The answer came too easily.
Pheet's eyebrow lifted.
"Yeah?" he said, voice light but edged with curiosity. "You sure about that?"
No response.
Phol moved toward the bed, sitting down with a quiet kind of composure, like nothing had shifted at all.
Like the air wasn't heavier.
The other glanced at the TV, then back at him.
Then back at the TV.
"…Wait—"
His eyes widened slightly.
"Why is this not paused—"
He grabbed the remote quickly, lowering the volume instead of turning it off completely.
"Move, I need to sit too. This is my show—"
Phol didn't react.
Didn't even look.
That—
That was new.
Pheet leaned back slowly, watching him now instead of the screen.
"…You two fought."
"No."
"That was fast."
Silence stretched.
Pheet tilted his head, studying him more carefully.
"…You didn't fight," he corrected. "Something happened."
Phol said nothing.
And somehow, that said everything.
A slow smile tugged at Pheet's lips.
"Oh," he murmured.
Inside the bathroom—
Wut stood in front of the sink, both hands gripping the edge as he stared at his reflection.
He looked the same.
That was the problem.
"…It was nothing," he said quietly.
The words didn't settle.
His gaze dropped.
His wrist—
He pulled his hand back quickly, like the memory carried heat.
His chest tightened.
Too tight.
For something that was supposed to be nothing.
You keep staying.
The words echoed, uninvited.
Wut shut his eyes.
"…Shut up."
His voice came out lower this time.
He didn't know if he was talking to himself.
Or to Phol.
Or to whatever this was that refused to stay simple.
He turned the water on higher, letting the sound fill the space, drown everything out.
It didn't work.
Back in the room—
Pheet had fully abandoned the TV now.
Because honestly?
This was better.
He glanced at the bathroom door, then at Phol.
Then back again.
The pieces were starting to line up in a way that felt… entertaining.
Dangerously entertaining.
He leaned back against the headboard, arms crossing loosely.
" When are you confessing? You like him. Right?"
Phol didn't move.
Didn't blink.
Nothing.
Pheet let out a quiet laugh.
"I knew it."
"…Stop talking."
"Oh, so you do talk," Pheet said, grin widening slightly. "Good to know."
Phol leaned back, eyes closing briefly.
That was enough confirmation.
"Wow," Pheet muttered. "This trip just got a lot more interesting."
The bathroom door opened.
Wut stepped out.
His expression was calm.
Too calm.
Pheet sat up immediately.
"You good?"
"Yeah."
"…Liar."
Wut shot him a look.
"I said I'm fine."
Phol didn't look at him.
Not even once.
And somehow—
That made it worse for Wut.
Something flickered across Wut's face before disappearing just as quickly.
He grabbed his phone from the table.
"I'm going out."
Pheet blinked. "Again?? You just got—"
The door closed.
Just like that.
Silence settled over the room.
Pheet slowly turned to Phol.
"…Okay," he said, voice almost amused now. "Now I'm invested. What happened out there?"
Phol leaned back, eyes on the ceiling.
Calm.
Too calm.
"…Don't follow him," he said.
Pheet frowned slightly. "I wasn't going to—"
"He needs space."
A pause.
Pheet studied him.
"Needs space for what exactly? I need to know. ...And you?"
No answer.
Pheet exhaled, dropping back onto the bed with a quiet huff.