The one for me

chapter 2 kitchen confessions

Win set his phone face-down on the coffee table, the muted buzz of notifications already fading into irrelevance. It was his break day—studio tour done, fans teased, privacy reclaimed. BigEye licked his hand, oblivious to the chaos, but Win's gaze lingered on the sprawled figure behind the bean bag: Juju, in a dusty gray work jacket slung over a loose white T-shirt that hugged his broad shoulders, faded jeans streaked with site dirt, scuffed boots kicked off haphazardly, and wavy ginger hair falling in exhausted waves.

With a quiet sigh, Win rose, scooping BigEye under one arm.

"Come on, boy. Outside." He nudged Juju's shoulder with his bare foot. "

Juju. Up. Food.and please for gods sake change out of that dress"Juju mumbled something incoherent—a slurry of Thai and English, eyes half-lidded like he'd run a marathon in his sleep.

"Mmm... five more... stars alignin'...

Win shook him harder, voice low but insistent.

"Kitchen. Now. BigEye, out."

The golden retriever bounded toward the garden door, tail whipping like a metronome.Juju groaned, finally cracking one eye open.

"BigEye! Back here, traitor!"

The dog skidded to a halt, trotting back to flop at his feet. Juju stretched languidly, all extroverted energy flickering to life despite the exhaustion. He hauled himself up, ruffling Win's hair as he passed.

"V, my hero. Starving architect reporting for duty."

True to word, he ducked into his room, emerging minutes later fresh—hair down in soft waves, blue T-shirt mirroring Win's, black pants fitted just right.In the kitchen, Juju claimed the dining table like a throne, legs kicked up, while Win moved with quiet efficiency—chopping lemongrass, sizzling garlic in a wok, rice steaming on the counter.

The space smelled like home: spicy basil chicken taking shape, simple but perfect.Juju launched into his day without prompting, words tumbling out in a rapid-fire stream.

"V, you won't believe the site today. That high-rise downtown? Client's flipping out over the cantilever—says it looks 'precarious,' like I'm building on clouds. I told him, 'Boss, physics doesn't lie, but your tie does.' Spent hours redrawing elevations, schmoozing the crew. Architect life, am I right? Oh, and traffic—Bangkok rush hour is a war zone."

Win plated the food, sliding a steaming bowl to Juju before sitting across from him. Normally ice-cold with the world, Win thawed around Juju—words flowed freer, smiles cracked his facade.

"You're gonna miss our birthday for that crap?" He poked at his rice, nagging already. "

Juju shoveled a bite, grinning around it.

"V, the project ,. Project deadline—can't ghost the team."

Win's fork paused, clinginess bubbling up. He leaned forward, eyes narrowing but lips quirking.

"Stay. Please? I'll nag you all night if I have to,its our birthday ."

A real smile broke through—rare, warm, the kind that lit his face like stage lights. Juju had that effect; Win clung to him like gravity.Juju's phone shattered the moment, blaring a upbeat ringtone. He glanced at the screen, thumbed speaker without thinking.

"Cutie! What's up?"Juju baby! My sweet boy, come home soon. Mommy misses you. And your birthday—wait, you and Win's big day in two sleeps! What's the dress code, hmm? Something sharp for my Juju?"

Win's smile vanished, jaw tightening. Bad blood surged—years of resentment.

"Tell Dad—Mr. Thanachart—to handle his own damn work," he cut in, voice edged like shattered glass. "Stop overexerting his power on employees. Juju's not his mule."

The line went silent. Juju's eyes widened—tension crackled, a quarrel brewing. Win's mom, caught in the crossfire again. He snatched the phone, taking it off speaker.

"Ma, yeah, heading home tonight. Miss your cooking like crazy. Talk soon." He hung up fast, exhaling sharply before fixing Win with a pointed look.

"V, seriously—don't vent your anger at Dad on your own mom. She's just trying."

Turning back, Juju's energy flipped to pure cling—sliding his chair closer, draping an arm over Win's shoulders.

"Veee," he cooed, nuzzling like a puppy despite his height. "Hungry. Tired. Let's quarrel after I devour this masterpiece, yeah?"

That wide, megawatt smile hit—dimpled, infectious.Win melted. Utterly. His cold shell cracked wide open, a soft laugh escaping as he leaned into the touch.

"Fine. Eat, i***t. But you're not missing our birthday"

Plates cleared, Juju sprawled on the couch with BigEye draped across his lap, scrolling job sites while humming off-key. Win lingered at the sink, scrubbing a wok longer than needed, the hot water scalding his hands.

His mind drifted—unbidden—to that night two years ago, the study thick with cigar smoke and ultimatum.The heavy oak door had slammed behind him. Mr. Thanachart loomed behind his desk, blueprints of skyscrapers spread like battle plans.

"Music? Music? Winay, you're the heir to Thanachart Architects—the number one firm in Thailand! Generations built this empire, and you want to waste it chasing guitar dreams like some starving busker?"

Win had slammed his demo CD on the desk, voice shaking with fury.

"It's not a waste! This is me—studio, stage, sound that hits the soul. Blueprints suffocate me. I can't breathe in your concrete world!"

His father had risen, towering.

"Selfish brat. I've given you everything—education, connections, a legacy. Throw it away? Then you're no son of mine. Pack your things."

The door had burst open—Juju, sweaty from soccer, chest heaving, eyes blazing.

"Pop, stop!" He'd planted himself between them, hands up like a referee.

"Hear me out. V's music... it's real. He's got talent burning inside. Give him two years—just two—to make it work. If he crashes and burns? Fine, he comes back, suits up, takes the firm.I can work as an architect pop"

Mr. Thanachart had scoffed, eyes flicking dismissively to Juju.

"Juju, your dad's studio.srisuk he ,Architect track,its not easy "

Juju hadn't flinched, jaw set. "Pop. Every blueprint, every code, every client pitch. I swear it. But let V fly first."

Silence. Their father's eyes had narrowed, calculating. Then a curt nod.

"Two years. Don't make me regret this." Deal struck. Win free. Juju bound—abandoning his own family's legacy for Thanachart's chains.Win snapped back to now, drying his hands roughly. Juju glanced up, sensing the shift.