Chapter Text
Green and violet neon bled across the room in fractured halos, carving through the dense haze that lingered in every corner like a secret too dangerous to utter aloud.
A low, sultry bass pulsed through the space. Jazz notes melted into one another, smooth and intoxicating, their vibrations seeping through the floorboards and climbing the legs of every patron before settling deep within their bones.
The air itself felt heavy.
It carried the sharp sting of aged whiskey worth more than most monthly salaries, the velvet-soft murmurs of influential women trading confidential whispers, and beneath it all lingered the unmistakable scent of something forbidden. Burnt weed, perhaps. Illegal or not, William neither knew nor cared enough to find out.
Leaning back in his seat, he watched a bead of condensation slide lazily down the side of his glass. His gaze drifted across the room, and with every passing second, his dissatisfaction grew.
This wasn't what he'd signed up for.
He had wanted a private, high-energy bar. Somewhere loud and vibrant. Somewhere, he could lose himself in the crowd, ride the pulse of the music, and pretend that he was a normal twenty-one-year-old, just like his former classmates.
"Best spot in the city, man," he'd said. "It's the kind of place where you get the good stuff. A place where you can forget everything, reconnect with yourself, and have the time of your life. Trust me, bro. You'll definitely like it."
Apparently, Jaxon was wrong. It seems that his cousin had vastly different ideas of what constituted fun.
William shook his head and scanned the room once more.
Several men occupied a corner booth, passing joints between them as though they were sharing cigarettes. Another group appeared to be inhaling something William had no desire to identify. Elsewhere, a pair seemed entirely unconcerned with the concept of public decency.
A sigh escaped him.
This was not what he'd imagined.
For the record, William was the image of composure—a disciplined young executive, polished and sophisticated... although the reality was far less glamorous.
At heart, he was energetic, outgoing, and hopelessly enthusiastic. Yet life had seated him at a table of discipline before he'd ever had the chance to enjoy his youth. He spent evenings nursing expensive wines when he would have been perfectly happy with a convenience-store bought soda.
Ever since coming of age, it felt as though his inner child had been ripped away from him.
Buried beneath endless contracts, drowned in meetings, smothered beneath expectations.
And always, always overshadowed by the title he never asked for:
Heir to the Kaewpanpong Conglomerate.
The day he turned twenty-one, his father handed him the company.
No discussion. No negotiation. No question of whether William wanted it.
The decision had been made so long ago that sometimes he wondered if it had been settled before he was even born. On some days, he actually thought that maybe, he was only born just to take over his parents’ business.
"Enough of your nonsense, William. You're an adult. Start acting like one." His father's words still echoed in his memory. All he'd done was ask for a weekday off after receiving an invitation to a private resort gathering.
Not from close friends, admittedly.
They were former classmates he'd barely spoken to during school, yet they'd thought enough of him to extend an invitation.
For the first time in a long while, William had felt genuinely excited.
Someone wanted him there.
Someone wanted him around.
Although his father had dismissed the request without another word and sent him straight back to work.
So here he was, William, twenty-one years old, possessor of a billion-dollar inheritance, and owner of precisely zero friends.
To the public, he wore a carefully crafted mask befitting his status. Only his bodyguards and his longtime nanny knew the truth—that beneath the tailored suits and flawless manners lived an overexcited puppy desperate to experience life.
When his office lights finally switched off at seven in the evening, he had barely eleven hours left to be himself, which he used every one of them.
Sneaking into rundown arcades, losing hours in gaming arenas, playing single-player games because they didn't require anyone else.
Because, unlike everything else in his life, they never expected him to be anyone but himself.
And now, here he sat. Wasting another evening in a desperate attempt to make friends, surrounded by luxury, vice, and enough illegal activity to make tomorrow's headlines.
William raised a hand and signaled for the bill.
As he waited for the staff member to return, a shadow fell across his table.
He looked up slowly, raising eyebrows to the woman who stood before him.
She wore a fitted black leather suit and a lace mask that concealed most of her features, revealing only her eyes and lips. The dim neon glow painted her silhouette in shifting shades of violet and emerald, lending her an almost unreal appearance.
Without speaking, she slid a black card onto the table.
Then she pressed a finger to her lips, eyes meeting with William.
Be quiet.
Before William could react, she turned and disappeared into the crowd with remarkable ease, slipping between bodies without attracting a single glance.
Everyone else remained consumed by their own indulgences, while William stared after her, brows knitting together in confusion.
Then his attention dropped to the red card resting in his hand.
LHV
33rd floor, The Elysium Bldg.
His frown deepened.
Was this some kind of prank? Or perhaps an invitation to some under-the-table business deal?
He turned the card over in his hand, his eyes scanning the sleek, now black surface.
✨Bordeaux, Desire, Silk & Money✨
Come play with us, if you dare.
The bill arrived.
Without looking away from the card in his hands, William quickly handed over his WISDOM card to the staff, his attention still fixed on the strange black invitation.
“Oh, you’re the chosen one today?” the staff said.
That finally pulled William’s gaze up. “What?”
The staff returned his card with an easy grin, then leaned in slightly as if sharing a secret.
“Every month, one customer here gets selected and invited to that bar. It’s a pretty slick, hidden gem, mostly for…” he paused, glancing around theatrically, “…you know. The rich queer crowd who enjoy whips and drinks.”
He gave a casual wink before turning back toward his station, leaving William frozen on the sofa, visibly confused.
Whips? Queer? What??
It didn’t make sense to him, but his eyes caught the glowing light from his phone.
8:39 PM.
Still too early to go home.
The staff’s words lingered in William’s mind as he tried to make sense of everything. He did want to have fun tonight—and besides, it wasn’t even late yet. It wouldn’t hurt to try, right?
After a brief internal debate, he finally stood. He slipped into his dark red leather coat, ran a hand through his hair to fix it out of habit, and pushed his sunglasses onto his face even though the night outside was already dim. Not that it mattered—being seen was always a risk he couldn’t fully afford.
He left the bar with the card still between his fingers and made his way toward the elevator.
The doors opened with a soft chime. As he stepped inside, he immediately raised a hand to press the thirty-third floor but quickly paused, his finger stopped mid-air.
The panel only went up to thirty-two.
A small pause followed, uncertainty creeping in. Before he could decide what to do, the elevator attendant noticed his hesitation.
“What floor, sir?” she asked with a wide, polite smile.
William hesitated. Saying the wrong thing felt strangely embarrassing—what if there wasn’t even a thirty-third floor? What if she laughed at him?
Instead, he slowly showed her the card.
Recognition flickered across her face.
“Ooh… you’ll need the gold elevator, sir,” she said. “You can find it down the left hallway, at the very end.”
The doors opened again as she gestured him out with a courteous nod.
William followed her direction, gaze shifting toward the hallway.
The lights at the end flickered faintly, casting unstable shadows along the walls.
He hesitated.
It was now or never.
When the elevator doors slid open, William was met with a dim lobby washed in low red light. A single chandelier hung at the center, its crimson glow faint but steady, as if the room itself were breathing in slow pulses.
To the side of a gold-framed door stood a masked bouncer in a black leather jumpsuit, motionless and unreadable.
William paused.
For a moment, doubt flickered—brief, unwelcome. Should he really be here?
No. He had already decided. And besides… what could possibly go wrong?
He stepped forward, only to be stopped by an outstretched palm.
“Oh, wait,” William fumbled into his blazer pocket and pulled out the card. After a short glance, the bouncer stepped aside and opened the door without a word.
Inside was not what he had expected.
Not another muted lounge filled with smoke and quiet deals, nor the familiar backdrop of politicians and vice disguised as luxury.
This was different. Sharper. More deliberate. It was… explicit.
A dance floor sat at the center of the room beneath a rotating disco ball, scattering red and silver light across the space. A bar lined one side, while a small raised platform stood at the edge like a stage awaiting attention.
A few people moved through the floor in slow, unhurried rhythms, as though time had softened around them. They looked… unbothered. Almost euphoric.
William’s gaze drifted, taking it all in.
Every staff member wore the same black-laced mask he had seen earlier, their identities reduced to symmetry and shadow.
He shifted slightly to the side rather than fully entering, observing first, trying to understand the place before it could claim any part of him.
Then his attention caught on the stage.
Ten chairs stood aligned above it. Six were empty, four were occupied.
The seated figures were dressed in matching, provocative black leather ensembles—fitted, structured, intentional. Two of them, he realized, resembled the woman from earlier. Hair tied back, lips painted in dark contrast, their presence both composed and unsettlingly confident.
They held whips and cuffed restraints with an ease that suggested this was not performance for shock, but routine.
William swallowed.
Am I in the right place?
The third person was a tall, heavily built man. His presence is unmistakably physical. He wore a black leather shirt paired with matching skinny trousers, his buzzcut sharp against the dim red lighting. In one hand, he idly held a belt, as though it were nothing more than an accessory.
William had already started to turn away—instinct urging him to leave before he understood too much when his gaze caught on the last figure.
And stopped.
The man sat at the center with an unnerving stillness, an aura that felt almost dangerous in its restraint. His posture was relaxed, one leg crossed over the other, his back resting against the chair as though the entire space belonged to him without question.
Unlike the other men, he wasn’t dressed in uniform or a leather shirt. Instead, he wore a fitted long-sleeved jumpsuit similar to the women’s attire, the material clinging cleanly to a lean but clearly defined frame.
He moved with slow intention, adjusting the collar at his throat as he lifted his gaze.
And the most striking part of it all? He was holding a red riding crop, and a ball gag hung loosely on his neck—although William didn’t know what it was called. He knew it was a whip and a mouth stuffer.
Before he could fully process it, the woman from earlier appeared at his side again, as if she had been there all along.
“You want to drink?” she said softly, her voice warm and deliberate, “or do you want to have fun?”
William’s mind felt like it short-circuited.
Should he really try this? It looked tempting to him, really. But he was not really into kink plays or BDSM. God knows he hadn’t even had his first experience.
He was already leaning toward refusing, telling her he would just take a drink and leave, when his gaze drifted back to the man on the stage.
Something about him kept pulling William’s attention back, insistently, as if his thoughts had stopped fully belonging to him.
And then it happened.
Their eyes met.
Just for a moment.
The man’s gaze was calm, inviting in a way William had never seen before. Not loud, not obvious, just enough to make him forget what he was supposed to be thinking.
The man looked away again, shifting his posture with practiced ease, as though nothing had happened, but somehow, it made William’s knees wobble a bit.
A strange, unsteady pull in his chest.
“I… I’ll take the fun,” he said quietly, almost surprising himself.
When he looked back at the woman, she was already smiling.
“Rates depend on your buddy,” she said, tilting her head toward the stage. “Anyone catch your attention yet?”
William didn’t like how fast his heart was beating. He didn’t like how conflicted he felt. His instincts were screaming at him to leave, to turn around and forget all of this, while something quieter, more reckless, kept insisting he stay and say "just go for it."
He turned toward her fully. “The guy in the center.”
His cheeks quickly flushed red when he saw the lady smirk, teeth showing. A flicker of amusement crossed her face, sharp and immediate, like she’d been expecting that answer all along.
“Of course,” she murmured under her breath, almost teasing.
Then, louder, she added, “He doesn’t allow personal intimacy. No kissing, no sexual contact. Just play, strictly scene-based.”
Her smile widened slightly.
“Do you still want him?”
William hesitated for only a second too long before nodding.
Too quickly. Too honest.
“Twenty-five thousand baht, 2 hours."
William’s legs were bouncing subtly on the ground, hands grasping his knees as he settled on the big red sofa, placed at the corner inside the black and red room. The same red chandelier from the lobby earlier cast dark red lights, engulfing the whole space.
The low sound of the air-con filled the silence, along with his shallow breaths as he just realized the danger he had stepped into.
William is a very adventurous person, but he has never indulged in these… explicit plays.
He looked around, gulping when he caught a lot of BDSM equipment hanging on the wall like displays, hanging proudly.
He didn’t look at the silicone figures resting on the table, though. He pretended he couldn’t see them as if his life was endangered, not slipping a double look when he caught a glance upon entering the room.
“He’ll be here in a minute, Sir. Enjoy.” The lady winked at him earlier before leaving him.
Now, beads of sweat trailed down his temple as he tried to gather his senses, making an effort not to bolt out and run away from this absurd decision he had made once again.
His thoughts were cut off when the doorknob suddenly twisted.
‘Shit, shit, shit!’ William chanted in his head, gaze locked on the guy who just opened the door.
The man in the suit only made one step inside and stopped, eyes scanning the other’s face.
Wide eyes, red cheeks, fluffy hair.
This... is his client today?
The guy suddenly took a step backward and quietly closed the door, leaving a confused William inside.
He heard some whispers and arguments outside and William took that moment to release the breath he didn’t know he was holding.
The guy stepped in again with a loud sigh, pushing the door closed using his back, locking it from behind.
‘Fuck.’ William thought. ‘This is really happening.’
His heartbeat suddenly spiked when the guy slowly made his way toward the center of the room, placing the riding crop and the mouth gag on the table.
“How old are you?” The guy broke the ice.
His tone was deep with the right pitch--cold, and distant as ice. He didn’t even bother giving a glance at William as he reached out for the remote to lower the temperature.
“…21.”
The guy paused, now meeting his eyes. “You sure you’re not a minor?” He replied again with an infuriating mockery in his voice, crossing his arms as his hip pressed on the corner of the table.
However, it annoyed William a bit.
Sure, his face doesn’t look like it—he is more than aware that he radiates a golden retriever vibe in the middle of a storm. But still, he tried his best to look mature tonight, and that was the last thing he wanted to hear from a stranger.
William cleared his throat, “I am. Old enough to pay you.”
The guy paused. His left ear twitched, the sentence lighting a fuse inside.
He didn’t like being slapped in the face about the position he was in. He never wanted this, not even for a bit.
He accepted the conditions to be hired as he believes this is the only available job during his available time. But unlike his colleagues, he has the lowest rate with the fewest customers due to his rules.
No kiss. No tongue. No sexual intercourse involved. Just play, and surrender yourself to him.
He can play, but he would not give up his body to someone for money.
He’s desperate for the dollars, but not desperate enough to give himself away.
But, even though he has an irregular number of clients per night, he actually had the highest reviews from them.
Matter of fact, he maintains his client’s reviews well, making his customers recommend him to others with the line “You’ll reach heaven in a sinless way.”
His mind drifted back to his present client’s words, “Old enough to pay you.”
He glared at William.
He hated what he said.
“Then I don’t need your money. You can leave now.” He coldly announced, picking up his own tools from the table.
William panicked, his posture quickly faltered.
He knew he had said something bad.
William was about to say "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it", yet he had no idea why different words came out of his mouth as if he was possessed by a mean guy, “This is how you do your job? Very unprofessional.”
The guy paused on his tracks, head turning in slow motion, “Excuse me?”
William, who tried to cough out his nervousness and faked an arrogant face, fixed his posture—eyes drifting to the side, then back at the guy.
“I mean, you came here to work, yet you don’t even do your job properly. I see why you don’t have a client tonight.” William retorted, looking down at the stain on his leather. ‘Shit. I’m gonna get myself killed.’
The guy didn’t move. Instead, he just stood there for some long, agonizing seconds, body halfway turned to the door.
After what felt like an eternity, the guy let out an amused laugh.
William looked up to meet his gaze again—only this time, the eyes he was looking now were furious, dark, and mixed with a tinge of… seductiveness. The kind of gaze that stirred something deep inside William’s stomach.
The guy strode closer to him, stopping only when he was in front of William. Using his leather-gloved hand, he put two fingers under William’s chin, forcing him to look upward.
Shit.
“What’s your name, rich kid?” He said as he slowly put the mouth gag on top of William’s head, dragging it down to his neck.
“W-William.”
Suddenly, he leaned down—face to face—his breath fanning against William’s, “William, hm?” He repeated, straightening up.
He let the mouth gag hang on William’s neck as he reached for the knot at the back of his head, removing his mask.
William’s gaze locked on him as if he was hypnotized, breath halting when the other finally showed his full face.
He was… beautiful.
“I usually don’t do this, but you triggered something in me, Mr. William.” He said as his two fingers pinched the zipper of his top.
‘Oh my God, oh my God,’ William repeated in his head like a mantra when the striking, beautiful man slowly tugged his zipper down, revealing the fairest, smoothest skin William had ever seen. The sight was followed by the well-toned abs under it, ending the view to a ridiculously snatched waist.
“I go by Red, but you can just call me Est.” William’s breath completely left his lungs when the guy straddled his lap, both of his knees on either side of his thighs.
“Blue Roses is your safe word.”
Suddenly, the alcohol William had consumed earlier seemed to be taking effect, leaving him slightly dizzy under the closeness of the moment.
The other was seated on his lap, his full weight settled against him. A faint trace of mint lingered on his breath, brushing softly across William’s face and making him swallow hard as his mouth suddenly went dry.
Est pulled up the mouth gag, protruding the ball in William’s mouth.
“Inside this room, I am in charge. You have no right to disobey me, understood?”
Weirdly, William nodded at every word. Even he was surprised at himself for being obedient.
“Good. Open your mouth.”
William hesitated, yet slowly parted his lips when Est’s eyes narrowed when he didn’t obey quickly.
Est smirked, pushing the ball inside William’s mouth as he tilted his head.
“Good boy.”
In the most (not gay) weird way, that sentence turned William on so much that he had to inhale through his nose as the heat finally took over him.
William never knew that this day would be the day he would engage in this kind of sexual play. He always told himself that his first intimate session would be with his future partner. His forever. Yet here he was…opening up fully to a stranger—a devastatingly beautiful stranger.
Est never broke their gaze while reaching for his riding crop from behind, grazing it under William’s chin, slowly, and firmly.
The cold leather sent shivers down William’s spine, his eyes flaring to his wrists when he realized that Est was cuffing him.
He looked up and paused as his eyes landed on the beauty mark resting on top of Est’s lips. Simple, yet utterly attractive. Est licked the mole when he saw the younger guy staring at it.
Suddenly, Est leaned back a little and whipped William’s chest. Not hard—barely a graze, yet it stung.
William groaned lowly beneath him, his tent growing as it pressed against Est’s thigh. As shameful as it was, Est instantly noticed the poke, “Oh, you liked that?”
Snickering, Est slapped his tool again, now on William’s thigh, twice in a row. The younger winced at the feeling, his moan muffled by the gag.
Est had no intention of giving out his 100% dominant side. The boy looked innocent, too innocent, like he didn’t even know what was happening.
He also had no intention of being nice. He just wanted to teach this kid a lesson, something… memorable for his first play. Making him crave something that will never happen again.
The reason why he had to step outside earlier was that he had to ask if this guy was a minor, as he looked oddly young.
Est smirked as he saw some tears forming in William’s eyes, “Look at you…” He said as he grabbed William’s chin, forcing him to look straight into his eyes.
“Where’s your arrogance earlier? Hm?” Est teased as he placed the crop on top of William’s fly, pressing it hard. William groaned at the sensation, his eyes not leaving the attractive round ones of the man on his lap.
Est tapped the crop on his boner—from light taps to becoming a little bit harder, causing the other to flinch in his seat. Est smirked victoriously, lifting William’s cuffed hands and threw them over him, making the person below embrace him.
William gulped loudly when their distance became increasingly small, chest an inch apart, his tent becoming more obvious now.
“You’re not gonna last this, bad boy.”
Suddenly, Est grabbed a fistful of William’s hair and tugged it backward, grazing the crop along the younger’s neck, tracing the visible veins on it.
The crop trailed down from William’s jaw, down to his abdomen, and settled on top of his boner again. Est’s eyes just followed his tool while moving, smiling and enjoying what he was doing.
It had been long since he truly enjoyed his job—his clients were all groomers and just plain perverts most of the time, so encountering someone who looked this innocent was a good experience for him. Est looked back at William’s eyes, noticing how that gaze never left him.
“What are you looking at?” He asked with an aggressive tone, slapping William’s face in a forced but not painful way to the left, both of his hands flying around William’s neck, thumb on his jaw to make him look back at him again—his grip tightened, “Do you enjoy this?”
Suddenly, a tear left William’s eye, his gaze turning into the most pleading way, his breath becoming shallow, and Est could feel the other’s hard-on pressing against his abdomen.
Est paused at the scene in front of him, watching how red the younger had become, his eyes caught the small trail of drool from William’s stuffed mouth. Est looked up into his eyes again and stopped.
A beat passed, then he frowned.
“Fuck.” Est whispered as he let go of William’s neck and rested it on the other’s shoulders, feeling something break inside him. He shifted closer, grinding his lower core against William’s tent.
The younger grunted loudly and threw his head back—which Est caught and forced him to look down at their hardness. “Watch me like the good boy you are.”
Unable to resist the older’s command, he willingly watched as his tent and the growing hardness from the older grind together.
William’s leg started to shake a little, making Est harshly hold the other’s thigh, “Stop moving—”
Est quickly grabbed his crop to slap it against William’s thigh, the younger’s eyes shut closed due to the pain—although it made William feel more hot, and undeniably, shamelessly, crave for more.
He didn’t know he would be into this kind of play, ever.
Est continued to grind their hardness while his crop continued to slap William’s torso—sometimes a little bit harder when the younger closed his eyes for too long, telling him to keep his eyes open to watch.
William whimpered, making Est look back at him. The older leaned closer to his face, whispering in his ear in the most seductive tone, “Are you close?”
But William didn’t respond, just continued to groan under him.
Est reached out to grab some tissues from behind while he stuffed the handle of the crop on his mouth, biting it in place.
William watched him, eyes stuck on how the other was biting the toy. ‘So hot,’ he thought.
Hurriedly, he pulled William’s pants’ garter open and stuffed his hand inside his brief, messily wrapping the tissues around the younger’s tip. Est pulled out his hand, resting it back on William’s shoulder.
Est continued to grind their boner to each other a little bit harder now, removing the crop from his mouth and let it fall on the sofa. He clutched the younger’s shoulders, letting his nail dug onto the other’s skin, mouth parting as well.
His eyes settled back on William’s drool again.
When Est saw a faint smile on William’s lips, it made clear sense that he already forgot the rules he had set on this job.
The younger was definitely, totally his type.
And as his brain forgot how to think rationally for a moment, Est let go of his senses—leaning in and licked the saliva slowly.
William’s breath caught, the sudden wet and warm contact sent intense shiver down William’s spine. He convulsed from below, his load shooting painfully hard into the tissues as his groan caught in a choke.
Est paused on his lap, suddenly realizing what he just did.
William panted, his hair sticking to his forehead as he steadied his breath, his eyes shut as his body shook lightly. He can feel the numbing parts of his chest and thigh getting hotter due to the friction.
Est quickly removed William’s embrace from behind him, tugging the mouth gag up and setting it aside on the sofa.
He stood up quickly, grabbing the small key from his pocket and bent down to unlock the cuffs—his hands shaking a bit as he tried to avoid the other’s gaze.
William continued to watch him, his breath still heavy, lips apart as he tried to wipe the leftover drool from his mouth by grazing it on his shoulder.
After Est had unlocked the cuffs, he went back to the table where he grabbed his mask and hurriedly zipped his shirt back to normal.
“Let’s finish this session. You can pay me half since we didn’t finish the 2 hours—“
“Is Est really your name?” William quickly cut him off, making Est pause for a bit—going back on fixing his clothes. He was thinking on how to cover his boner once he walked outside, ignoring William’s question.
“I’ll pay you higher.”
“That’s not necessary,” Est replied quickly, his voice stern as he walked back from William’s place, grabbing his crop and mouth gag. He strode to the cabinet in the corner and pulled out a black oversized jacket—wearing it to cover his tent.
Not once did he look back at William, thoughts racing from the act he had just done.
He was about to leave the room when William asked something that made him pause once again, “I thought you don’t kiss your clients, and no sexual acts?”
Est didn’t look back, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he noticed that his own tent was not going down, his mind continued to repeat the words “What have I done?”.
He shut his eyes as he sighed, “Don’t come back here, ever again.”
In three quick strides, Est was out the room, shutting the door a bit harder.
William sat still inside, his eyes lingering at the door. He brushed his hair back as he grabbed the remote from the table turning down the temperature, unable to contain the growing pull of his mouth upwards.
“That was… so fucking awesome.” He whispered as his fingers touched the side of his mouth where Est had just licked him.
He stood up, removing the tissues from his underwear and threw them in the trash, his hands becoming busy while typing something on his phone, contacting his personal bodyguard.
“Est, you are a freak of nature.”
William finally walked out of the room.
He paused when he saw the lady from earlier, closing their distance as he dragged her to somewhere darker.
When Est finally got out of the bathroom as he finished his business, he stopped in his tracks when he saw Sasha waiting for him, holding a slip of paper in her hand.
Their gazes met. Sasha walked closer, pushing the small paper to his chest while Est quickly caught it.
“Your pay from your client.” She said, arms crossed with a wide smirk, insisting he look at it quickly.
Est looked down at the cheque—paused when he saw the number of digits on it.
“90,000.00 THB…? What—did you tell him a different rate? I told him to just pay me half!” Est rambled, his hands became clammy as he looked back at Sasha.
Sasha just shrugged, still smirking as she pulled out the same, white cheque but it’s under her name, waving the paper in front of his face that says ‘10,000 THB.’
“You… did he… did you tell him something about me?”
Sasha just giggled, already stuffing the cheque back into her pants. “I just told him your first name was Est Supha, and immediately got a tip. Maybe I should have said your full name and gotten 20k. But of course, I didn’t since you would kill me.” She said, teasing Est.
“This girl, I’m gonna smack you in the future.” He groaned as he ruffled his hair, eyes still stuck on the cheque under his name.
“Oh, by the way. He also asked how much your percentage is from your daily rate, so I simply said 8%. Then did you know? He talked to our manager and made sure that they’ll only get the 23,000 from this check, letting you have the 67,000 on your own or he will report it.” Sasha yapped, chuckling. “Not only handsome, but good in math too! You won the prize today, you bitch!” Sasha continued, smacking Est’s shoulder playfully.
“What’s his name? Did you get it?”
Est’s frown became sharper, eyes going back to the cheque.
‘67,000…’ that’s already 3 advanced payment of my Dad’s debt.’ He thought as he stared at the piece of paper.
“William.”
Three days had passed, Est’s life got back on track again.
He paid 40,000 THB to the bank for an early 2 months’ deposit for his parents’ debt, and kept the remaining 12,000 in his account for his month’s allowance—allocating the other 15,000 for the run-down motel he’s staying in now. His upcoming salary was set for next month’s allowance, and his adoptive sister’s school fees.
Although it seems that his next salary will not be the usual since it has also been three days with no clients. Means that he’ll only get 40% of his daily pay.
He sighed as he removed the mask from his face, splashing cold water, trying to erase his thoughts.
Est’s hand rested on the countertop as he watched the water dripped from his face, settling on the still porcelain.
It has been three nights already, and he still can’t remove the guy’s face from his mind.
What kind of job does he have to just throw 90k baht on a slut?
Yes, that’s right. That’s what they call him.
A good-for-nothing slut who engages with weird fantasies of others to survive.
Est grabbed tissues as he harshly wiped his face, throwing them into the bin. He was about to put his mask back on when suddenly, Sasha opened the door heavily.
“The fuck, this is the men’s bathr—“
“Est! Scary men are looking for you!” Sasha shouted while looking petrified, pointing outside the room.
Est frowned, settling down his mask, “What?”
The two went outside with Sasha trailing on his back, her seductive facade snatched away from her.
They were met with 6 big men wearing sunglasses, black suits with mics taped on their cheeks, all having pistols tucked in their holsters.
Est gulped, trying to form a coherent thought. Surely, he didn’t miss any debt payment, right?
“You’re… looking for me?” He called their attention, making them all turn their heads to him.
One of the guys, a bit smaller than the rest, walked forward while holding a white folder.
“Est Supha Sangaworawong? Is that you, kind Sir?” The guy asked, posture straight as a board.
Est looked at their faces, then to the bouncer outside who seemed not to give a fuck. How did he let them in?
“That’s right. How can I help you?”
The guy smiled, opening the folder as he stepped closer.
“Master Kaewpanpong wants to reach out to you regarding a… proposal.” He said as he handed him the Master’s so-called ‘contract’.
“Kaewpanpong…?” Est whispered as he scanned the document, pausing when he saw the logo at the top of the paper, followed by Sasha’s gasp.
“Kaewpanpong… THE Kaewpanpong Conglomerate?” She asked, eyes wide as she noticed the logos from the guards’ suits.
Est’s eyes trailed the logos on their coat as well, then looked back at the paper.
“…Wants to present you with a proposal which includes the following benefits: Free room, free utilities, free food, free service, paid taxes, and… 60k THB monthly salary.” Est read, looking up slowly at the guy in front of him.
“For what?” He asked, making the guy stepped closer as he leaned to whisper something, “Sir, you might want to read the second page.”
Est quickly turned the page over, reading the contents.
“…Companion during his free time, 7 PM - 12 AM on weekdays, full day on Sundays, and rest day on Saturdays. 2-years contract. That’s it?” Est suspiciously questioned but paused when a handwritten note below caught his attention.
“If you don’t like the formal proposal idea, then you can just call me your sugar dadd— Daddy what!?” Est raged, looking up at the guards who all bowed their heads in unison.
Seems like these guards are also weirded out by the idea of their master, all clearly holding back a laugh, still trying to be professional.
“What the fu— which Kaewpanpong is this?” Est asked, side-eyeing Sasha who was now giggling from the side.
“Uhm… It’s Kaewpanpong’s heir, Sir Est. Master William Kaewpanpong.”
That made Est stop.
‘William. That sounds familiar.’
For a few seconds, their area got quiet.
And after realization, the heat quickly rushed to Est’s face, turning red instantly. “Is—is he crazy!?” He spouted, pushing back the folder to the guard chest, already preparing to leave while dragging Sasha by the wrist,
“No! Tell him that I said no! That crazy fucke—“
“Double!” The guard reached out, making Sasha pause, tugging Est to stop as well. “Est… he said double.” She whispered.
The guard straightened his posture to regain composure, fixing his tie. “He said he’ll double it if you agree.”
Suddenly, Est heard the sound of an ATM spewing out cash in his ears. His thoughts wandered to the unpaid debt papers piling on his drawer—slowly disappearing, and him lying down on a bed without worrying if he’ll be attacked by loan sharks in his sleep.
Est slowly turned his head around, eyes squinting while looking at the men.
“120k monthly salary? Are you sure?” He said, looking at them suspisciously.
“Yes, Sir Est. For 24 months only.” The guy nodded, followed by the other men—all nodding in sync again.
He exchanged a look with Sasha who just shrugged.
Est fully turned his whole body toward them, now showing interest.
“So what exactly is my job here?” He asked when one of the men at the back spoke up, “Master William said since he cannot disclose this to the Kaewpanpong and was unable to secure you a formal position, he just said…he’s gonna be your-” The guard coughed, holding back a snort, “your sugar daddy, Sir Est.”
Est loudly slapped his forehead with his palm, shaking his head as he heard contained chuckles from Sasha.
“Does he have a kink about being a sugar daddy?” Est groaned.
“Sir Est, Master William is still a growing kid who wants to explore adulthood, and he said he really liked your dominance—“
“Stop, you’re just making it worse.” Est stopped the man—whom he presumed was William’s assistant by now—raising his palm toward him which was followed by Sasha’s unrestrained laughter. “Shut up, Sasha.” He added.
After some silence, Est sighed as he met the assistant’s eyes again, “When will this start?”
Suddenly, all of the guards’ faces lit up even without smiling.
‘Fuck. I think I made the wrong move.’ Est cursed to himself.
The assistant, however, let out a big sigh of relief. “If you accept, Sir Est, we can pick you up tomorrow.”
Est bit the inside of his cheeks when the guy pulled out a pen from his blazer’s pocket, slowly handing the folder back to Est’s hands.
For 10 seconds, he just stared at the folder, still contemplating. His mind wandered back again on his piling unpaid loans, the anxiety he gets when he stay outside for long, and the feeling of being unsafe in his sleep.
After exhaling a long breath, he grabbed the pen and looked for his name on the paper, signing above it.
“Finally, he’ll stop his tantrums now.” One of the men whispered to the other.
“What is it?” Est asked, looking at the guy who just mumbled.
“Nothing, Sir.”
The assistant got the folder back, beaming when he saw Est’s signature under the contract.
“Great! We’ll meet you tomorrow in your motel lobby, Sir Est.” He said, as they all bowed in unison and turned around quickly, already leaving the room.
But Est suddenly realized something, “What, how did you find out where I’m staying—...aaand they’re gone.” His voice lowered, eyes still locked on the door where the men just walked out from.
Sasha shook him from the side, “That’s great! You can now leave this place. I’m so happy for you!” The girl shrieked, tackling Est with a hug. “I made the right decision to choose him from that tacky bar!” making Est just roll his eyes, trying to remove himself from Sasha’s grasp.
That night, Est quickly resigned from his night shift with LHV (Let’s Have Fun); his final pay will be credited as a cheque within 2 weeks.
He sighed as he stared at nothing, still being sketchy with the job he took.
Probably before, he would have already rejected this ridiculous offer. But something about the younger man made him accept it. So open, so young, so dumb, and so…
“…rich.” He mumbled, eyes wandering from his clearance paper.
“Sugar Daddy, huh? For someone who’s 4 years younger than me. Ridiculous.” He laughed, scratching his head as he searched the name on Google, millions of articles popping up.
“Gosh, what did I get myself into?”