Chapter Text
The asphalt track shimmered under the midday sun, radiating heat that only added to the intensity of the moment. Engines roared to life, a symphony of mechanical power that reverberated through the air. Riders clad in leather suits and helmets straddled their sleek machines, eyes fixed on the starting lights ahead.
Anticipation crackled like electricity as the countdown began. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Go!
The riders launched forward as if shot from a cannon, their bikes accelerating with a thunderous roar. The smell of burnt rubber and gasoline mingled in the air as they leaned into the first corner, knees skimming dangerously close to the ground.
At the front, two riders broke away from the pack, their bikes inches apart as they weaved through a series of hairpin turns. Each twist and turn tested their reflexes and skill, pushing them to the limits of control.
On the straightaways, speeds reached dizzying heights, the wind whipping against visors and helmets. The lead changed hands several times as competitors seized every opportunity to gain an edge, drafting behind rivals and lunging into overtaking maneuvers with split-second precision.
Halfway through the race, fatigue began to set in, but adrenaline surged as victory beckoned tantalizingly close. The crowd, a blur of faces and waving flags, cheered on their favorites, the noise blending into a constant roar that spurred the riders onward.
As the final laps approached, the battle for supremacy intensified. The leading duo exchanged aggressive maneuvers, each refusing to yield an inch. With the finish line in sight, they entered the last corner neck and neck, the outcome hanging on a knife's edge.
In a heart-stopping sprint to the finish, one rider managed to inch ahead, crossing the line mere milliseconds ahead of the competition. The checkered flag waved triumphantly, signaling the end of an exhilarating contest.
Amidst the deafening applause and cheers of the crowd, the victorious rider slowed to a victorious crawl, helmet lifted to reveal a mix of exhaustion and elation. The taste of victory was sweet, earned through sheer skill, nerve, and a relentless pursuit of glory in the unforgiving world of motorbike racing.
Mahasamut, Mahasamut, Mahasamut! Was ringing through the air. A islander who was always in love with motorbikes, finally joined his first official race in chiang mai after he was sponsored by a kind tourist who saw his skills and sponsored him for this. But winning this means his life at BKK starts. He will be allowed to participate in the Grand Prix Thailand set to take place in the next 3 months. He looked through the crowd who were shouting his name, not a single face stood there who he recognized, did victory look like this? Loud and lonely? He thought. He missed his home, not like he had any family there too, his father had abandoned him when he was 16. His mother chose to follow his father too. Friends, maybe he had a few, but they also settled down with their lovers and spouses. What he missed though was his hometown, his island, his sea. But to achieve something in life we need to lose some things too. He gave up his life at sea to take a chance in his 1st love, speed .
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He needed some job in BKK to survive through the next 3 months of preparation for the Grand Prix. If he won, a full sponsorship for 2 years, with a modeling contract with Ducati sponsored by Patheera Groups worth 10 million Baht.
To leave his life behind, he changed his number, with a hope of not looking back to his pains from the past. He started his journey from there on his bike. 700 kms could be tiring but the destination would definitely make it worth it, he thought.
Throughout his way he kept receiving calls from different numbers asking for someone named Jakkrit. He was tired after picking almost 8 calls when it suddenly started raining hard, he was just 50 kms away from Bangkok, darkness had started engulfing the skies. He stopped his bike and took shelter near a small shop on the roadside. His phone rang again. Another new number.
“Hello” some voice floated in.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Krit?”
“It’s a wrong number.” He replied, a bit of irritation in his voice.
“But it was Krit’s number.”
“Don’t know but now it’s mine. Ok?” He spoke in a harsher tone “Loan, bank, dating service whatever you are calling for, stop calling me anymore. I am going crazy because of these calls.”
A sobbing sound floated in his ear, like someone is weeping in sadness. Mahasamut felt bad for shouting at this person, he was frustrated since morning and took out all his anger on this person, but now he felt bad. “Hello, excuse me, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to… I mean…they recycle the number after 90 days of no usage so maybe that's why… I mean I just bought the number this morning.”
“They?” Said the voice on the other side along with soft whimpers.
“Telecom company.”
“Thank you for telling me, when someone dies, we shouldn’t call on their number to listen to their voicemail.”
“Oh I am so…. I mean. Is it more than 90 days… I mean, how many days has it been…” Mahasamut wasn’t sure how to deal with this. He had never had any experience in grieving.
“171 days 6 hours 10 mins.” after this the call got disconnected itself.
That night Mahasamut couldn’t sleep, the weeping voice kept ringing in his ears, making him restless. With the help from one of his friends who had some connections with some food delivery apps, he got a job. They weren’t paying badly, the only issue was the weather. Bangkok was crying almost every day. Rain was pouring all the time. He picked up his next order, “One single chocolate cupcake” and went on his bike to deliver. Literally the delivery fee is higher than the cupcake, rich people of bangkok I can never understand Mut thought while parking his bike in front of the delivery address. It was a huge house, he looked at the nameplate “The Heaven’s grace orphanage.” He felt bad about judging the delivery. When he went inside the building a party was going on, it looked like a kids birthday party with a lot of balloons and bubbles around him. He asked a few people for his customers' names but no one could reply, how could they, most of them were kids under 10. He took the mic near the music box, paused the music and announced “A delivery for Tongrak Taksakorakarn”. The whole party full of people started looking at him, at some distance in one of the small tents he saw a beautiful man looking at him, holding a mic in his hands he announced. Bring it here. The voice, he immediately recognized the voice. The voice who had kept him awake for a few nights was this. He moved towards the tent in a daze, when he was almost near the tent a small boy ran out of it and grabbed the packet. Uncle Tongrak told me to bring it to him. He couldn’t see him from near, but he handed over the cake and moved away, standing at a far end of the party looking at the man.
A few minutes later the man came out of the tent on a wheelchair, lit a small candle on the cupcake and blew it, “Happy Birthday Krit, see we are again here at your favorite place. I hope wherever you are, you are happier than before.” Mahasamut found himself shocked and in a dilemma. He picked up his phone, called on the number he had saved that night as “ Broken but beautiful voice ” he saw the man on the wheelchair took out his phone and received the call. He first looked at the man and then the phone and ran away from that place.
It was already a week and Mahasamut had not received any call from that number, once in a while he thought about that voice but he was puzzled, his feeling felt like enigma. He had never felt this before but the reality of the person on the wheelchair scared him.
Another day when he had gone to the same area of the orphanage, his heart churned with the memories, guilt started making holes in his chest. He took out his phone and dialed the number. After 3 long rings and an eternity longer wait finally the call was received.
“Hello.” mahasamut said.
After a long pause the other person meekly replied “Hello.”
“I saw you.”
“........”
“I saw you on that day. At the orphanage. Delivery for Tongrak Taksakorakarn.”
He heard a few muffled sobs before “Why didn’t you say hello?”
“I was scared.”
“..................”
“I got scared when I saw you on the wheelchair.”
“Oh.”
“But now I am not scared, so can we meet. I want to meet you once.”
“........................”
“Will you meet me?”
“....................”
“Hello, Tongrak, are you there?”
“Maybe next life?”
“What?”
Beep beep beep… the call got disconnected.
Mahasamut immediately panicked, he ran into the orphanage and held on to the hand of the first sister he saw. “Where does Tongrak live?”
“Who are you?”
“I can explain later, tell me where he lives now, I need to save him.. I am sure he is going to do something.”
“Do I look so naive to you that I will believe it?”
“178 days 6 hours 10 mins, she lost Krit. Now tell me whether you want to save him or not?”
The lady immediately gave him Tongrak’s address, because no one who doesn’t know Tongrak won’t know the dates. Fortunately Tongrak’s house was just 2 blocks away and it was a standalone house, by the lake. He first rang the bell many times and then just jumped into the lake to get into the house from the back side.
When he finally broke the glass door which opened on the lakeside, he found Tongrak on the floor unconscious. “Tongrak” he shook him. “Tongrak, wake up. Tongrak what did you do?” He shaked him many times before calling the emergency services.
When Tograk reopened his eyes it took him some extra time to realize where he was, he looked around himself and found that phone guy, whose name also he didn’t know staring into the abyss “Mr. Wrong Number?”
“Hmm?” Mahasamut looked at him.
“Thank you my angel for saving me. Since the time I lost my best friend to the car accident where I was driving the car I have been saying I don’t care if I die or not, but today when I felt breathless, I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live. Thanks for saving me.”
One month later
Both of them were already busy in their lives, Mahasamut’s event was nearing, racing practice had to be increased. He got busy with his things and Tongrak got busy in his personal life, but still they would try to take out some time for each other. They can’t be called as lovers, but definitely they were more than friends, the way tongrak waited everytime Mahasamut said he would go find Tongrak, both knew it wasn’t just a friendship anymore but no one wanted to ruin it by talking about the feelings first.
When mahasamut was in the racing grounds on an early Saturday morning his phone rang. It was a call from Tongrak. “Hello?” Mahasamut asked.
“Hello, can I ask you something?”
“Tell me?”
“Will you take me somewhere I want to go but no one is allowing me to?”
“I will.”
“We can take my car.”
“I can’t drive, will you come on my bike?”
“I will.”
The place Rak had asked him to take was on an island, and Mahasamut said he would. They traveled from Bangkok to Pattaya by his bike. When they reached the pier from which they were supposed to take a ferry to Koh Larn. “May I?” Mahasamut asked permission to carry Rak from the bike to the ferry. While carrying Tongrak from the pier to the boat, Mahasamut had felt the pain in his chest, like he was going to give away his heart to someone else. They reached Koh Larn and drove to the place Rak wanted to visit. It was a cemetery and Rak told Mahasamut to leave him at a specific place. He looked at the name on the grave.
“Krit Anong
20th Jan 2024”
You will forever be my always
- Tongrak