The production office feels like the kind of place where serious adults make serious decisions. So, maybe my choice of (You kang-roo this!) T-shirt wasn't the best. The office Pim and I are led to is all glass walls and filled with sleek black furniture. It has the faint smell of expensive coffee and printer toner. I walk in beside Pim, who is practically vibrating with excitement, while I try very hard to look like I belong here and not like a lost dumpling who accidentally wandered into corporate territory. Which is ironic since I have been going to Dad's office since I was very little. I used to sit on his lap while he held meetings and reviewed documents. He would take the time to explain the work he was completing. Many evenings, I would fall asleep in his arms, and he would later tuck me into bed. Yet, here I am feeling like a fish out of water.
After we sat down, a lawyer slid a thick folder across the table. "We had your family's legal team review everything. It's all standard procedure, but please take your time."
I nod politely and start signing.
Page after page. My hand moves, but my brain is somewhere else entirely.
This is fine. Totally fine. I am signing official documents that say I am going to be on TV. As an actor. Playing a musician who falls in love with a CEO. Opposite Prinya Jaturapattarapong. I came to Bangkok to paint quietly and heal. Instead, I am now contractually obligated to pretend to fall in love on camera for twelve episodes. Excellent life choices, Wei-Wei. Ten out of ten.
I flip to the next page and sign again, a little more firmly than necessary.
Pim leans over and whispers, "You're doing great."
I give her a weak smile; internally, I am screaming in several languages.
What if I forget all my lines? What if I trip over a cable and ruin an entire take? What if P'Prinya looks at me the way he did in the audition room again, and my brain just… blue-screens forever? Not relevant, Wei-Wei. Focus. Just sign. You are a calm, collected, and professional dumpling.
Finally, the last page. I sign my name one last time.
The lawyer smiles. "All done. Welcome to First Frequency."
Pim lets out a tiny, delighted squeak and squeezes my arm. "See? That wasn't so bad!"
I manage a small nod.
They lead us into another room. It's bigger, with a long conference table and more people already gathered. The production crew, the director, and a couple of assistants with tablets are all assembled like some kind of Avengers crew. The energy in the room feels focused but friendly (luckily).
I sit down, trying to take everything in without looking like I'm cataloging the room like a nervous spy. There are whiteboards with episode breakdowns, storyboards pinned to the wall, and someone's already placed name cards around the table.
Across the table, directly opposite me, sits P'Prinya.
He's in a simple dark shirt, sleeves rolled up once, looking calm and composed, like he does this every day. Our eyes meet for half a second. He looks back with that same quiet, interested look from the audition. That look makes my stomach do an embarrassing little flip-flop.
I quickly look back down at the table, pretending to be fascinated by the wood grain.
Focus! That is not relevant right now. You are here for a meeting. I repeat, a professional meeting. Do not stare at his sharp jawline. Do not think about how his voice sounded like melted chocolate over deliciously sweet strawberries. And do not think about his dark chocolate almond-shaped eyes. Focus. You are here as a serious, albeit amateur, actor. Not as the guy who is quietly losing his mind over the way P'Prinya looks at him.
The director clears her throat, starting me out of my rant, smiling at everyone.
"Alright, now that we're all here, let's get started."
****
The director clears her throat and smiles at the table.
"Before we dive into the schedule, let's do this properly." She gestures between us. "Lu Xiao Wei, this is Prinya Jaturapattarapong. Prinya, this is Xiao Wei, our Tawan."
P'Prinya stands first.
He's taller up close. When he gets up, he makes the room feel smaller without trying. His movements are economical; nothing is wasted. Then he extends his hand across the table.
"Nice to officially meet you," he says, voice low and even. Not unfriendly. Simply… not warm.
I stand too, hoping my palm isn't clammy, and shake his hand.
His grip is firm and steady but not crushing. I also notice how warm his skin is and immediately file it under "not relevant right now, please stop cataloging."
"Nice to meet you, too, Phi," I manage. Darn it, my voice came out softer than I wanted it to. "I… watched a couple of your dramas last week. For cultural education."
A tiny flicker crosses his face. Is he laughing at me? I was entirely serious (mainly because Bas was entirely serious about educating me). "I hope they were useful."
"Very," I say, then immediately regret it because now I sound like I've been studying him.
We let go. I sit back down a little too quickly. (I am just going to pretend that I'm not embarrassed.)
P'Prinya remains standing for half a second longer, then lowers himself into his chair with that same quiet economy of movement. I noticed that he's still in a way that seems very controlled. Not stiff per se. Just… contained, as if everything he does has been thought through.
I also pick up on the small scar on his left knuckle, the fact that he responds more than he initiates, and that he keeps staring at me. Am I that weird?
Then, being the professional dumpling that I am, I file all of it away in the mental folder labeled "Professional Observations Only."
The director continues cheerfully, "You two already have natural chemistry from the audition, which is rare and wonderful. We're very excited to see what you build together."
P'Prinya gives a small nod. "I look forward to working with you."
Simple. Minimal. No extra warmth and no extra words.
I swallow. "Me too."
Inside my head, it's a completely different conversation.
I am looking forward to working with you, but I'm also really nervous. I'm afraid I'm going to screw things up and embarrass myself because whenever I speak with you, my brain just seems to go on hiatus. But that's totally not my fault, actually, it's yours for being so handsome. Like, aren't people supposed to be less handsome than on TV? But I will try my best, so please help me and take care of me, Phi. I promise I will be a good dumpling. I will be the best professional dumpling you have ever seen.
I am not a calm dumpling – not at all.
I am a dumpling who just shook hands with Prinya Jaturapattarapong (his hands are so warm) and is now storing this information like it's some kind of important scientific finding.
The meeting moves on. I just keep my eyes on the agenda in front of me, but I can still feel him across the table.
And I hate how aware of it I am.
****
The meeting ends with handshakes and murmurs of "see you on set." The production team drifts away one by one, gathering their papers and tablets, until the room is suddenly, unexpectedly quiet.
Only the two of us remain. Yet, neither of us moves to leave.
P'Prinya is still sitting across the table, his posture relaxed but controlled. He looks at me for a moment, then asks in that low, even voice, "Will your art school schedule conflict with the night shoots in episodes seven and eight?"
So straightforward and professional. Nothing extra.
I blink once, then answer, "No, err, I checked. The faculty is actually quite flexible as long as I don't miss core studio days. I spoke with my professors about it." I hesitate, then the truth slips out before I can catch it. "Honestly… I'm a little nervous. I've never done anything like this before."
The second the words leave my mouth, I want to snatch them back.
P'Prinya doesn't laugh. He just quietly looks at me and says, "It's normal to be nervous. Just show up. The rest will come naturally."
I don't know what to do with his reassurance. It is so genuine; my chest suddenly feels tight and too warm.
Before I can find any words to respond, the door opens again. One of the assistant producers pokes her head in.
"Sorry, we need the room for the next meeting."
P'Prinya nods once. "Of course."
I manage a polite smile, "Thank you," my voice small.
He nods and replies, equally polite, "See you on set."
We both leave.
Outside the building, the afternoon heat is a welcome change for once after the cold nervousness. I stop on the pavement for a moment, trying to process the last ten minutes, when Pim appears beside me as if materializing from thin air.
"Ready to go home?" she asks, grinning.
Big Rock and Slightly Smaller Rock are already waiting by the car.
I nod, still a little dazed.
On the drive home, I stare out the window and try not to replay the whole encounter with P'Prinya in great excruciating detail. (PS: I am utterly and completely failing at it.)
****
Later that evening, I curled up on the couch with a bowl of leftover congee, staring at my phone as it might bite me. Eventually, I decide to call Jingwei.
He picks up on the second ring.
"Xiao Lan'er"
Just hearing that nickname in his low, warm voice makes the tightness in my chest unclench.
"Hi, Gege."
"How was your day?"
I let out a small laugh. "It was… ok…interesting. We finalized all the documents for the series and had the first proper meeting. P'Prinya was there too."
"Oh?" There's a tiny pause. "Are you excited now that you've decided to do this?"
I hesitate, then the truth slips out. "Gege, I'm actually really nervous. I'm scared of messing it up. I don't know anything about acting. I feel like everyone else is so knowledgeable, and then there's me, who doesn't know anything."
"Xiao Wei, listen to me." His voice is steady and gentle. "It's going to be okay. I think it's good that you're stepping out of your comfort zone. I know it can be scary sometimes, but that's the only way we grow."
"I know, Gege."
A soft breath on his end. "I'm proud of you, Little Blue."
My eyes sting a little. "Thank you, Gege." I pause, then add quietly, "I miss you. And I miss home. But… I also like being somewhere where no one knows me. Does that make sense?"
"Yes, it does," he says, warm and sure. "And I miss my little brother too. But you know you can call anytime. I will always be here for you."
"I know." I smile even though he can't see it. "You're the bestest big brother in the whole world."
Jingwei laughs, that quiet, fond laugh that always feels like home. "Goodnight, Little Blue."
"'Night, Gege."
I hang up and sit there with the phone still in my lap for a long moment, smiling at nothing.