Wen

I am Wen Channarong, an illegitimate son of Pravat Kittibun, the CEO of the biggest hotel chain in the country. However, this fact remains unknown to everyone. I'm happy living my quiet life as well. Though my father recognizes me as his son, I'd rather live my life in peace, away from the controversies of wealthy individuals. 

My father supported my entrepreneurial aspirations, allowing me to start my own business. I deliberately chose not to venture into the hotel industry and opted for a location away from the bustling streets of the main city. That's how DRY&DIRTY, a small diner and bar, came into existence. While it may not be a large establishment, the business was thriving.

I found a two-story building on the outskirts of the city and fell in love with it. I knew this would be the perfect spot for my bar. I can also utilize the second floor as my living space and office. The bar's outdoor seating area has a few seats to accommodate our smoking customers. Inside, tables and chairs that can seat small and large groups of diners are spread across the floor. A small elevated stage stands on the corner which hosts some small-time musicians that help lighten up the mood of the bar. The kitchen is quite spacious, which includes the staff break room. Meanwhile, the bar counter is situated in the middle of the room. It's not that big, but it's spacious enough to accommodate probably a hundred people. There is a staircase at the back of the pub that leads to a small open area when you reach the second floor. There I keep a few plants that are low maintenance. The liviing room has a big couch that serves as my bed whenever I come home late from closing the bar. The kitchen is spacious because I don't have a dining table. Since I live alone, I just use the kitchen peninsula or the coffee table in the living room. I transformed one room into my office and chose the one with the window on the east side as my bedroom. Having my place just above the bar makes it easier for me to check on my business.

Opening night at DRY&DIRTY had been a success. The cozy, minimalistic bar had a hint of retro vibe that attracted a decent crowd of middle-class workers seeking a place to relax after a long day of work. I watch my patrons enjoying their drinks and chatting with friends, feeling a sense of satisfaction. It may not be the biggest bar in town, but it was thriving and I'm happy with it.

Sometimes, a cozy and intimate atmosphere can be more appealing to customers than a large, impersonal space. The bar had its own unique charm that seemed to draw people in. The carefully curated drinks menu and the warm ambiance made it a popular spot. The bar had become more than just a business; it was a place where people find comfort and relaxation, a place where they feel a sense of belongingness.

Life had settled into a pleasant routine. Since I'm a morning person, even if I go home in the wee hours of the morning after closing the bar, I still get up early to run around town. Oftentimes I go to the gym 3 blocks from my place making sure I stay fit enough to carry drunk customers to the bus station. Then i check on the bar's inventory of drinks and make sure that we have fresh ingredients for the menu that night. On some nights, I even tend the bar myself, mixing drinks and engaging with the customers. It was my way of staying connected to the business and the people who frequented it. I usually tend the bar during the weekends when it's busy.

I woke up one summer morning on a Tuesday and decided to skip my usual jog. Instead, I focused on checking tonight's menu and making some changes to satisfy my craving for something different. I called Top, my head chef, to discuss the modifications. Later in the evening, I decided to work the counter myself, curious about how things were on a weekday. Even though it was a regular workday, there were still quite a few customers in the restaurant.

I was in the midst of charming some ladies at the counter, taking their orders (and numbers)  for margaritas, when a strikingly handsome man in glasses entered the bar. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt and perfectly fitted jeans, his disheveled hair and inviting lips catching my attention immediately. He walked with purpose, heading straight for the far end of the counter. Placing his bespoke jacket on the table, he ordered a shot of whiskey, his voice soft and almost fragile, as if his heart had recently been shattered. He wasted no time in downing the drink as soon as I placed it in front of him and signaled for another, all the while silently gazing at his phone, as if he were eagerly awaiting a message.

He orders another shot of whiskey, his 8th glass, and settles his bill. It's almost dawn now and the bar was supposed to close 30 mins ago. He is the only customer remaining, and half of the staff has already gone home. "Y'all can go now. I'll take care of the rest here," I said to the remaining staff. 

I put the last glass I cleaned back on the rack when I noticed that the guy had rested his head on the counter. I approached him to tell him we're closing but He almost fell from his seat as I tried to wake him up. He was too drunk to stand on his own, so I did what I usually do. I carried him behind me and headed to the bus stop just outside the bar. He held on to me tightly as he let out a long weary sigh. I couldn't ignore the palpable weight of sadness that seemed to hang in the air after that sigh. It stirred something inside me, a sense that this person needed someone by their side in that vulnerable moment. Despite my usual policy of not allowing anyone into my private space, I made a spontaneous decision to take him home.

I closed the bar, and with a sense of purpose, I helped him to his feet. I carried him towards the stairs behind the building, leading the way to my place.

I gently laid him down on the sofa and made my way to the kitchen to fetch some cold towels to wipe his face. As I got closer, the proximity allowed me to appreciate his features more intimately. I couldn't help but notice the fairness of his skin, which seemed almost ethereal in the dim light. 

Carefully, I removed his glasses, revealing more of his face. His eyebrows were thick and expressive, casting a subtle shadow over his closed eyelids. Long, dark lashes framed those eyes, adding to their allure. His cheeks bore a rosy hue, likely from the effects of the alcohol that had left him in this vulnerable state. My eyes couldn't help but be drawn to his lips, which were undeniably enticing, tempting, and utterly captivating. I felt a magnetic pull towards them, a desire that stirred within me. I shook my head, trying to regain my composure and fight the temptation that threatened to overwhelm me.

Just as I was reeling myself back from the brink, he slowly opened his eyes. Those hazel-brown orbs gazed at me with a longing that sent a shiver down my spine. In a soft, imploring voice, he uttered, "Stay."His hands wrapped around my neck ,drawing me closer,and his warm breath caressed my lips. Our lips met in a slow, gentle dance, and I could taste the warmth of his kiss, sweet yet tinged with a hint of bitterness. I was startled by the suddenness of it all, torn between resisting and succumbing to the allure of his soft, trembling lips. But as quickly as the kiss had ignited, he pushed me away abruptly, and the moment was shattered as he began to retch and vomit onto the floor.

I was stunned, then couldn't help but smirk as I realized he was still inebriated. I knew that nothing good happens when you're drunk, and this situation was no exception. Deciding to clean up the mess, I undressed him carefully, not wanting to disturb his rest. Then, I carried him to my bed and laid him down gently. As I watched him, tears started rolling down his cheeks.

"It's gonna be okay," I whispered softly as I wiped away his tears. I dimmed the night lamp before heading to the sofa to sleep.