Page 42 of Baby Love

I ask my mother about Som, and when she coolly tells me she had my pet euthanized, the feelings of betrayal and heartache hit me hard. I didn’t even need to call forth those memories I had ready.

How could she do that? Why? Why didn’t she consult me? I would never see Som again.

“You’re remembering all the times you had with your cat. What a comfort Som was to you,” P’Big says over the intercom. “Let the emotions show on your face.”

Ma snaps at me about leaving the cat with her and how it was her decision to make, and that brings on the guilt even though I know I couldn’t take Som with me to Bangkok. Ma continues, arguing that the cat had lived a long life and that the treatments would have been too expensive. All excuses, I think, because she didn’t want to take care of my pet. She’s never been fond of Som, and she’s never gotten over her anger that I’m gay and that I left for Bangkok. We argue. The argument swells, takes on layers. Ma brings up my sexual orientation and her disappointment in me. The long, heartfelt diatribe falls from my lips. The lines come easily because of how deeply I feel them. I don’t have to search for the words I need—they’re right there on the tip of my tongue, ready to fall as I tell my mother how my sexuality isn’t her concern, how she had no right to do what she did, how I’m happy being away from this gloomy house and her overbearing personality. How I’m living my life the way I want to live it.

She tells me to get out if I hate it so much. Turning, she throws the vase of flowers at me, and I barely remember to duck so they crash against the wall, creating a mess of water, petals, and glass on the hardwood. When she leaves the room, slamming the door behind her, I fall to my knees, a sob wrenching from my throat. After that, I lose it, sobbing into my hands, and I can’t stop when P’Big calls it a wrap. Someone helps me up from the floor. Shaking all over, I sag into the nearest chair and bring my knees to my face. As reality returns, the emotion continues to batter me until I’m spent.

“It’s okay,” a soft voice permeates my thoughts, a hand gently stroking through my hair. “It’s okay. Cry it out. All that emotion needs an outlet.”

Lifting my tear-stained face, I blink at P’Park kneeling in front of me.

I say on a choked breath, “I-I don’t know why I can’t stop c-crying.”

“You just need to get it all out, that’s all.”

Khun Aat—I mean, P’Luke approaches and rests a hand on my shoulder. “You did very well with that scene, Nong. You should be proud of yourself. It’s the reason why you’re having so much trouble coming back to yourself now.” He ruffles my hair. “Don’t be embarrassed. People in this business are used to it.”

Glancing around, I see that he’s right; the staff is busy coiling up cords and moving lighting. P’Big is talking to Khun Mild on the other side of the room, her script open between them. Not one of them is paying any attention to my emotional state.

I nod and try to smile, but my mouth wobbles and it turns into another sob. I’m surprised when P’Park pulls me into his arms, holding me while I cry and making shushing sounds in my ear. P’Luke leaves us alone.

My heart hurts.

Because I haven’t had this type of comfort from anyone since my mother was alive.

Because my father never loved me enough to touch me this way.

Because my soul yearns for this kind of a connection with someone.

Clinging to P’Park, I continue to cry sporadically for the next twenty minutes. When a blanket falls around my shoulders, and I hear P’Big ask, “How’s he doing?” I have a headache and my eyes feel swollen.

“He’s okay. Just working through some emotions,” P’Park tells him.

“His next scene isn’t until after lunch. He can take his time.”

After a few more moments, P’Park takes me into another room where he helps me wash my face and gives me a bottle of water to drink. Then he has me lie down on the couch and covers me with a blanket. I’m exhausted.

“Nong Park?” I hear Khun Lee say from the doorway just as my eyes fall shut. “That video of you and Spin dancing. Did you arrange that?”

“No, Khun, I didn’t know anyone was filming us.”

“Well, it was nothing short of an ingenious publicizing maneuver! It’s everywhere on social media, and it’s gained SPPT hundreds of new followers. We must get some behind-the-scenes clips out as soon as possible.”

I don’t hear any more.

Chapter Eighteen: Park

Spin did an amazing performance for his scene between Boom and his mother yesterday. Afterward, he broke down until he wore himself out crying. I got him to take a nap, and after that he was better.

I’ve spent the past hour and a half filming the scene where Khao sits in his bedroom and thinks about Spin. The editing department will insert various flashbacks, so it’s mostly closeups of Khao silently running through a gamut of emotions, which is kind of difficult to do when I don’t have someone acting in the scene with me. Still, it wouldn’t have taken as long as it did if lighting issues didn’t come up.

I’m starving, so I fill my plate with food catered by the studio. I’m halfway through eating when I notice Spin’s just picking at the food on his plate.

“Not hungry?” I ask him.

He shakes his head. "Not really. I still have a headache from yesterday."

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