"Keng, pack your bags. Take only what you'll need. We're leaving-now."
The words came so suddenly that Keng didn't process them at first.
He had barely stepped into the house, his school bag still hanging from his shoulder, when his father's voice cut through the air with a firmness that immediately felt wrong.
Too urgent.
Too final.
Keng looked up, confusion settling across his face.
"Leaving?" he echoed slowly.
"Where?"
"England," his mother replied sharply, her tone leaving no space for discussion.
"Just go and pack."
For a second, Keng thought he had misheard.
"England? But why? What's happening?" His voice rose slightly, unease creeping in.
"There's no time to explain," she said quickly, already turning away as if the conversation was over.
"Just pack your things."
But nothing about this made sense.
Their family had always been stable-comfortable, even. They weren't the kind of people who left everything behind overnight. They weren't the kind who ran.
Yet that was exactly what this felt like. What Keng didn't fully understand in that moment was the weight of everything his parents were hiding.
Their business had collapsed faster than anyone expected. Debts had piled up, one after another, suffocating everything they had built.
What once felt secure had begun to crumble, threatening to drag all of them down with it.
Leaving Thailand wasn't just a decision. It was survival. And in their desperation to protect him, they chose distance over explanation.
"I'll be back," Keng said suddenly, his heart beginning to race.
"There's somewhere I need to go." But even as he spoke, his mind had already gone ahead of him.
To Ping.
Ping, who had finally started opening up.
Ping, who had begun to trust him.
Ping, who looked at him like he mattered.
He couldn't disappear on him.
Not like this.
Not without saying anything.
"You can't go anywhere," his father said firmly, his voice cutting through Keng's thoughts.
Keng turned, frustration rising. "But Dad-"
"Do you want to make this situation worse?"
his father continued, his tone hard.
"But-"
"No, Keng," his mother snapped.
"Enough. Go to your room and pack." Her voice ended it.
Completely.
Keng stood there for a moment, frozen, the weight of their words pressing down on him.
Then, slowly, he turned and walked toward his room. Each step felt heavier than the last. Like he wasn't walking forward- but being pulled away.
Inside his room, everything was exactly as he left it.
Normal.
Unchanged.
And yet, it felt distant already. He dropped his bag onto the floor, staring blankly at his things. Clothes lay scattered, untouched, as his thoughts spiraled out of control.
Ping's smile.
Ping's quiet voice.
Ping finally letting him in.
If he vanished now... Ping would break. The thought alone made his chest tighten painfully.
Keng tried.
He really tried.
He went back to his parents, again and again, his voice growing more desperate each time.
He begged them, promised he would be quick, that he would be careful-that he just needed a few minutes. Just a few minutes.
But they refused.
They didn't let him out of their sight.
Not once.
Not until it was time to leave.
And just like that- he was gone.
-
When the plane finally landed in England, something inside Keng shattered. It wasn't loud. It wasn't visible. But it was there. A quiet, irreversible break. The unfamiliar air, the cold atmosphere, the distant voices-it all felt wrong. None of it felt like home. Because home wasn't a place anymore. It was someone. And he had left him behind.
Days passed.
Then weeks.
Keng found himself thinking about Ping constantly.
Every single day. He wondered how Ping was doing.
If Ping hated him.
If Ping was hurt.
If Ping was still waiting.
Keng had always believed he was strong. Someone who could endure anything thrown at him. But when it came to Ping- he realized he wasn't strong at all.
He stopped eating properly. He argued with his parents almost every day. He shut himself away in his room, the walls closing in on him like a prison.
"I need to go back!" he shouted more than once, his voice breaking.
"You don't understand-I left someone behind!" Tears streamed down his face as the words slipped out before he could stop them.
But no matter how much he pleaded- nothing changed. England became his cage.
And Ping... Ping became the regret he carried every single day.
-
One day, Keng sat at his desk, a blank sheet of paper in front of him. His hands trembled slightly as he began to write. He poured everything into it.
Every apology.
Every explanation.
Every feeling he couldn't say out loud. He told Ping how sorry he was for disappearing.
How much he missed him.
How he hadn't forgotten.
Not even for a second.
When he finally finished, he stared at the letter for a long time, his chest tight.
Then- he froze. He didn't know Ping's home address. The realization hit him like a wall. For a moment, panic set in. But then- he thought of Tao. After a long pause, he decided to send the letter there instead. It was the only way. Carefully, he folded the letter and placed it into an envelope. Then he reached for something else.
The small doll. The one that held quiet memories between him and Ping. He placed it gently alongside the letter, hoping-praying-it would reach him.
Just as he was about to leave the room- his mother appeared. Her eyes immediately fell on what he was holding.
"Where are you sending that?" she asked, her voice sharp.
"Home," Keng replied without hesitation.
Her expression changed instantly. "You can't send this to Thailand!" she shouted, rushing forward and snatching both the letter and the doll from his hands.
"If your father sees this, he'll be furious! We could be tracked-you don't understand the risks!"
"But Mom-" Keng's voice cracked with desperation.
"I'm sending it somewhere safe! Please, just trust me!"
But she didn't. She couldn't. Without another word, she took both items and hid them away. Leaving Keng standing there- empty-handed. Helpless.
-
He tried to get them back. Again and again. He waited for moments when no one was watching, sneaking into his mother's room, searching desperately for where she might have hidden them. But every attempt failed.
Until one day- he was caught.
"Keng, what are you doing?" his father's voice roared, fury evident.
The argument that followed was loud.
Explosive.
Years of pressure, fear, and frustration collided in that moment.
And in the chaos- his father grabbed the letter.
Before Keng could react- he burned it.
"No!" Keng lunged forward, panic flooding him.
The paper curled, darkened, and disappeared into ash within seconds. Without thinking, Keng reached for the doll, pulling it away just in time. The heat burned against his skin, causing him to flinch as pain shot through his finger.
But he didn't care.
The doll remained in his hands.
Safe.
It was all he had left. A piece of Ping. A piece of everything he lost.
- After that, things only got worse.
Keng was watched constantly.
Every movement monitored.
Every action questioned.
He felt trapped. Completely powerless.
Months passed like that. Each day heavier than the last. Each night filled with memories he couldn't escape. He replayed everything.
The laughter.
The quiet moments.
The way Ping looked at him. And every time- the same thought followed.
He left him.
-
A year passed.
And then- finally- news came.
They were returning to Thailand.
The moment Keng heard it, something inside him surged to life again. Relief. Urgency. Hope. This time, he didn't hesitate. He sat down immediately and wrote another letter. Carefully. Deliberately. This time, he wouldn't fail.
He sent it to Tao. And this time- nothing stopped it.
-
Even while continuing his studies in England, Keng never stopped thinking ahead. He remembered Ping's dream university. Something Ping had once mentioned casually, not knowing how deeply Keng had held onto it.
So Keng planned.
Quietly.
Carefully.
He made sure his friends would enroll there first. He would follow later. It wasn't safe. It wasn't easy. But none of that mattered. Because this time- he would see Ping again. No matter what.
And when he did- He wouldn't leave.
Not again.