Act 2:

Saturday comes.

There are rows of trees in front of Apo's apartment, their canopy is agedly large, casting a wide shadow under the scorching sun. Apo waits for him, clad in black shorts matching a forest green shirt, a bag on his back, and a pair of orange converses on his feet. He is hiding in the shade made by a sky of green.

"Why didn't Po stay inside?" Mile chides, adjusting the AC, as the other settles in, "What if you get heatstroke?"

The boy giggles, "I just got out, it wasn't that long."

Apo looks... utterly lovely today, Mile doesn't know what else would be more suitable to describe him. He is the vision of a sweetheart next door. Dark hair falls on his front head, swaying lightly with his move, unstyled and fluffy. His shirt is three-button-unbound, revealing a span of tan skin, and his shorts are... short, which hike up even higher when he sits down.

"P'Mile?"

Mile blinks, doesn't realize he's staring. Apo cocks his head, "Are you alright?" He glances down gingerly, "Is wearing this weird?"

"No, you're fine." The older rushes to answer, feeling his face heat up, "Very handsome."

Apo grins like a cat that got its cream. Mile has to look away, dazzled by that bright smile and offended by his own ill manner. It was off-limits. Extremely unbecoming.

The road they go is filled with Apo's humming and babbling. He chats about whatever comes to his mind, asks whatever question he thinks of, cracks some childish jokes then crackles at his own mindlessness. They stop at a convenience store to buy some water and a cup of ice cream for Apo.

"You seem excited." Amusement swells in Mile's chest, as Apo sings a happy tune whilst nibbling his ice cream.

"I am." The other waves his little spoon, eyes curving into two crescents, "Thank you, Phi, for the invitation."

Mile feels the turmoil in him is smoothed a little. He's always a defenseless soldier before Apo's brilliant force, every weapon is lowered and all armor is rendered useless. People say he indulges the boy too much, but they don't understand that it comes naturally like breathing. He likes taking care of the boy, in the same way Apo does to him.

The exhibition is held in a small, hidden alley, right in the city center – such a contrast, as if you want my attention, but don't want to be noticed too much. Perhaps because they arrive in the afternoon, there are not many visitors. The photos are divided and placed in different areas. Some photos depict the buzz and fatigue of life, some show the placidity of the outside and inside the photographer's soul.

Apo observes each photo, immersing in the story each conveys. Occasionally he will turn towards Mile and share his point of view. Many Mile understands, many he doesn't, but it doesn't matter, he enjoys watching Apo enjoying things and expressing his love. Under the light of the studio, standing among works of art, he is the most perfect one. Fate may have spoiled Mile's artistic soul by letting him meet Apo because not only he's very beautiful, but his whole existence is bewitching.

A hand on his shoulder starts him.

"Mile," P'Fuz smiles warmly, "So good to see you."

P'Fuz is over thirty, broad and tall, his shoulder-length hair is tied up in a small bun. His appearance is kinda rough, but he's a beauty-loving person. They're exchanging some words when Apo creeps up next to him, silent like a true feline. P'Fuz immediately greets the younger, who gives him a wai in return.

"I rarely have a chance to talk with a photographer. Your work is tremendous." Apo compliments, not out of courtesy, Mile can see his earnest respect weaving with some secretive admiration. P'Fuz must notice too, based on his clear-as-a-day shyness.

"Oh no. I-I'm semiprofessional." He stammers, looking at Apo. "Did you two just arrive? Do you want a tour?"

Apo perks up, his face radiants with the excitement of a kid rewarded with candies, thus Mile decides to go with the flow. P'Fuz leads them around the studio, telling stories behind each photo. The younger (youngest) absolutely engages in the whole conversation, asking this and that, commenting on these and those. Mile realizes Apo really knows so much about photography. Like, so so much. Yes, Apovision is his trademark, but Mile doesn't expect Apo to be this passionate about the field.

"Wow, I would think you're an expert if I didn't know better." P'Fuz praises, clearly understands everything Apo says, at the same time intrigued by him. The boy squirms in the way he usually does when he's shy, cheeks dusky pink.

Something in their talking demeanor doesn't sit right with Mile, it itches him even when they're in his car to home. It itches Mile even a few days after, when he sees Apo posts a photo of a glass cabinet with cameras neatly arranged inside, tagged #Apovision. A simple close-up photo, but the sunglow color and equipment stock-still behind the glass give Mile a feeling of contemplation.

Coincidentally, on the same day, P'Fuz posts a photo of a pair of hands holding a vintage camera. It wouldn't be worth mentioning if the blurred cabinet behind isn't exactly the same one in Apo's photo, not to mention those hands - Mile identifies easily - are Po's. No captions below.

Well, P'Fuz also has a camera shop.

His phone is so close to bursting fire with how hard Mile stares at it. For whatever reason, ever since he discovers the coincidence of the two posts, Mile has felt like something wants to crawl out of his gut. Many times during the day he unconsciously picks up his phone and opens IG before he can catch himself – Stupid! There's so much to do but his mind keeps wandering! But jitters and uneasiness bother him until the evening, he decides to give up.

"Is that Apo?" It is nothing strange to message your friend, right?

"Yeah. He needed a new lens." P'Fuz replies after a long moment, "I asked him for a picture because the angle was a vision."

Of course Apo is a vision. Mile also wants to ask more, but at the same time he isn't sure what he wants to ask. Oh, he knows your store? Oh, you and him talk? Oh, I don't know you and he have been this close.

P'Fuz sends another text. Mile almost drops his phone.

"Thank you for introducing me to him. I thought you had forgotten."

Forgot what? Mile frowns, it seems he did forget something.

Out of the blue, a memory snaps in his mind.

.........

The first time P'Fuz asked for Apo's contact, it was in a fugitive conversation.

"What?" Mile laughed, tipsy and silly, "P'Fuz is a fan too?"

His friend just shot him a shy smile, "He's beautiful. And a good actor, my mother watches his series."

"He is." Mile nodded. Everyone talks about Apo that way. However, this suggestion was quickly swept away by the fun.

Mile couldn't remember the second time P'Fuz mentioned this. It was just that at a gathering, everyone talked about his famous BL series.

"You two look so nice together." Someone joked, "Are you dating?"

So many people had asked that question, the answer was automatic. "No, we're colleagues."

Some cooed in disappointment, others laughed and "I told you so". After that, when everyone was ready to leave, P'Fuz sought him out.

"Is it ok for you to introduce me to Apo?"

This request made Mile curious, "You want to get to know him?"

P 'Fuz nodded, "I like him."

A simple statement, yet it struck the protectiveness in Mile. What did he say at that time?

Ah right, he said he would ask Apo.

And he didn't. He forgot. For real.

.........

Mile doesn't have that much time to fuss over this, hence he tries to brush it off. As always.

.........

Today is a long day, they've finished an intense scene and a gloomy cloud hangs on their heads. Mile watches Apo and Bas clinch to each other, it takes Bas forever to stop his tear, with a lot of aid from Apo, although the older is in no better state.

Mile's heart aches.

"Hey, let's go somewhere," Tong suggests after they're done removing make-up. Everyone agrees. The four are lost cats right now, being vulnerable together is still better.

They choose their familiar private pub, in which they can have their own space to enjoy their exceptional drinks. Mile loves this place, loves that they can sit in the dark, listening to some old jazz, chilling while having light, pleasant conversation. They're having fun, in general, enjoying the satisfaction after a hard-working day.

At some point, Mile notices Apo is inching closer to him, centimeter by centimeter. They're sitting on the same sofa, Tong and Bas are opposite. Apo appears sluggish and relaxed, but Mile feels his own neck stiff just by looking at the younger craning his. He puts his arm down the backrest, causing Apo to halt his talk and give Mile an inquisitive glance.

"Borrow my arm." Mile says, softly in a way surprising even himself, "So you won't strain your neck."

The way Apo is blinking at him reminds Mile of a rabbit given a lecture - must be the liquor thinking, but this prompts Mile to almost reach out to stroke his hair. Almost, he's stopped by Tong's gagging noise.

Tong throws him his signature dirty look. "Love in the air." He slaps Bas' shoulder, "Get me a disinfectant spray."

The two youngest cackle. Mile surges to hit Tong, who sticks his tough out at him, yet Apo leaning on his bicep pulls him back down.

"What? Was I wrong?" Tong huffs. Mile wants to hit him again, "Seriously. You're too sweet. My teeth ache."

"P'Tong, don't embarrass us." Lucky for Mile (or not), Apo pipes up, "My P'Mile is the sweetest man."

His friend turns his smiley eyes toward him, lashes long and curling. He looks like a bashful cat who's accidentally intentionally punched a glass off the table.

Yeah, not guilty nor worried, just bashful.

My P'Mile, Mile repeats this inwardly, his stomach flutters as if there were thousands of butterflies flapping their wings.

Their chatter is full of bickering after that, although it becomes harder and harder for Mile to really stay in the conversation because Apo is so warm against his body, his short hair tickling his skin whenever he shifts.

Mile's head is spinning, alcohol is buzzing in his system. Also, something else.

He drops his head on Apo's shoulder.

"...Phi?"

The boy doesn't wear perfume, and Mile is breathing in his nature baby-powder scent. "...Hm?"

His elbow is pat. "Are you ok? Tired already?"

Tired may not be the best word to describe the flipping of his heart, but it's the easiest one. So, he just hums, the arm that Apo is leaning on folds, caging the younger in. If in a normal situation, he would be more careful because eyes and ears are everywhere, but he doesn't want to be careful at the moment. He feels loose and secure, in a private and familiar space, with like-minded and dear people. Especially, Apo. He's here, right in his embrace.

Someone is snickering. Someone is saying something. But he doesn't care.

The background music is lilting. So is Apo's voice. He is so close. "Does Phi want to leave?"

Leaving sounds appealing. "...Yes..."

"Okay," Is Apo chuckling? "Let's go home."

Whose home? He wants to ask. Or more important, how can they go home? However, Mile trusts the younger would take care of it, the same as Apo always trusts Mile to take care of everything that he can't.

Things are fuzzy after that. Mile vaguely remembers they all decided it's time to say goodbye, Apo asks for his key and he almost falls asleep on his foot waiting for the latter to find his car.

They are quiet on the way home, Mile keeps nodding off to Apo's humming a children's song. The city lights blur around the corner of his eyes.

At one point, he's shaken awake.

"Phi." Apo whispers, "We're here. Po will park the car for you. Can Phi go up by yourself?"

The fitful rest is enough to sober Mile up. Instead, his head begins to protest. He pinches the spot between his brows hoping to ease the throb, "What about you?"

"Huh? What about me?" Repeats Apo, concerned. Then, a gentle hand touches his temple, "Are you having a headache?"

His touch is so sweet Mile wants to melt. Under the depth of the night, and maybe - again - the effect of booze in his blood, Apo is ethereal, despite the exhaustion after a long day. He looks like someone who shouldn't be let go.

He grabs his wrist, "How would Po go home?"

"Oh," The other seems taken aback, but he responds without missing a beat, "I would call a taxi. No need to worry about me."

"Stay for the night, then." He offers quickly so he can't hesitate, "Catching a cab at this hour won't be easy nor safe."

Those brown eyes flick to where Mile clutches him, for a second Mile thinks he would argue, or make some comments. However, he doesn't.

"Alright. But let go, Phi. Po needs to park your car."

.........

Mile gives the other a set of his clothes along with Apo's toothbrush, which the latter left here after his several sleepovers and Mile just puts it away. "It's late, so shower tomorrow, okay?"

Apo nods, obedient. The tips of their fingers gaze when he receives his stuff, a weird tinge sparks in Mile. It happens so fast, as a slip of a foot, but enough to imprint in the older's mind even when Apo leaves and he himself goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Mile can't help but notice Apo lingers in his life a lot nowadays. He's always there, obviously, but it feels like Mile's heart starts beating at his course. It acts up every time the younger is around, physically and non-physically. Everything between them moves so simply that one day, Mile was caught off guard noticing something wasn't normal anymore. It confuses and kinda scares him to no end, hence he ignores it, beating himself for being nonsensical. But for some reason – must be the mood - thoughts and emotions come undone and rise to the surface tonight, whereas he just... stares at them and ponders. Not touch nor allow them to come too close to him, as if he were an outsider looking inside his own mind.

And, as an outsider, Mile thinks he's being stupid.

Apo knocks on his door right after he finishes his night routine, snapping him out of whatever is rolling in his mind. Mile rushes to open the door so quick that he should be ashamed of it.

"Oh. Hi Phi!" The younger sounds cheerful and sheepish at the same time, his hand hasn't even lowered yet, "Did I disrupt you?"

"N-No. Do you need something?"

"I-... Po just can't sleep." They're so awkward it feels like a scene from some teen rom-com. Apo flashes him a grin, holding out something. There is a glass of water and a blister of painkillers in his hands. "How is your headache?"

Au, he's completely forgotten his headache, "It's fine. Thank you." He takes the medicine anyway, inclining aside so the younger can go in. The glass is lukewarm. It should awe him that Apo is familiar enough to even know where he keeps the medicines. They crash at each other's place so often anyway, Mile can map out Apo's house easily with a pencil and pieces of paper. "Does Po need help to sleep? Lullaby? Back rub? Bedtime story?"

Apo groans, dropping his ass on Mile's mattress, "Stop it, Phi." He titles his head, and his irises bear a soft golden beam under the ivory light, "Can we chat?"

The younger looks puppy mellow like this, sitting on Mile's bed, in his clothes which are a little oversized on his body. Once again, Mile can't help but indulge the other, and himself.

He gets in under the quilt, back against the headboard, then pats the empty side of the bed. "Come here."

Apo brightens up, crawls in immediately, "Tehe. It's like we were teenagers, having a pajama party."

"We're too old for that." Mile grumbles, giving the other a spare pillow.

The tomato flush on his cheeks can't ease the smugness in his grin. "Nah nah. You're only too old if you truly believe so."

A very Apo statement. Mile watches the latter shuffling around like a baby bird in its nest, before letting out a satisfying sigh, "I miss us sharing a bed."

"Yeah?" They do share a bed a lot, on tours, vacations, or sleepovers.

"Yeah. Do you think we can go somewhere after we finish filming?"

"Hn. Where does Po want to go?"

"Umm." Apo taps his chin in a thoughtful demeanor and turns toward Mile. "Anywhere is fine. Po misses traveling with Phi."

The sincerity in those hazel eyes burns into Mile, "Me too." He says, more open and honest than he intends, but it's fine. "Let's wait until we wrap up, where Po wants to go then we'll see."

The latter frowns, "Why wait until we wrap up to think?"

Mile raises an eyebrow, "If we decide now, Phi is sure you will change your mind."

Apo scrunches his nose, "Po is not that bad."

The older makes a face, which pulls a huff along with a pout out of the other. "That's it. I only want to spend time with my Phi, meanwhile my Phi wants to make fun of me."

Mile chokes back laughter, nudging Apo's shoulder with his own. "Not making fun of you."

The younger giggles, stays pressing against him. "Whatever. Let's focus on our movie first." His voice is high with a hint of excitement, "Let's make Nong ManSuang well-known!"

Fondness floods into Mile, "Nong will. We will."

Apo smiles into the air, pushing his weight even heavier on Mile, he can almost put his head on his shoulder. "I like Khem, Phi. He reminds Po lots of myself."

Mile nods, understanding. "Khem is talented and precious." So are you pop up in his mind.

His friend drops a startling laugh, half embarrassed, half disbelieved. "But people only see his appearance, not his talent nor his dream." A scoff sets between his brows, "They even use it to hurt him."

Mile recalls Khem's story, the pain of it pinning its claws into him – he can sense it with his whole body. What Apo said hooks into his bell and tugs. He has listened to his friend talk about his experience in the industry, also there and then somewhere in his life, he knows by heart all the hardships the other endured. Now he's anxious to ask how much Khem's story resembles yours? has anyone ever hurt you like that, using your beauty? But Apo is revealing himself and Mile can't hurt him further, nor let him alone in such a state. Hence, he just says, "What Khem went through was horrible, but he's a fighter. He doesn't allow those people to beat him down."

"...Phi is right." The latter replies, after mulling over a bit, "But you know, oftentimes what defeats us is the feeling of loneliness and loss of self." The mood shifts, quieter and raw, and Apo appears so delicate under his unseen burdens. "It's like... We are drowning. We keep struggling but can't swim up, because the one who holds us down is ourselves."

His heart spasms under his ribcage. "It's... suffocating."

"Uh huh." Apo hums, sounds pretty contented. Then, he links their arm together. Mile watches his bicep hugged as if it's a big bolster. His friend is so wonderful warm. "It's ok anyway. He met Chatra."

"Oh," Mile is surprised, he doesn't think he would say so. "Yes. Chatra sees Khem as himself."

Apo chortles, rubbing his face on the joint of his shoulder, kitten-like. If he keeps being like that, Mile's sure he would explode.

They lapse into a comfortable silence after that. It's always enjoyable and serene to stay in silence with Apo. Mile is reeled back to what they just talked about. From Porsche to Khem, he's noticed how Apo has channeled them with his inner world. He had watched Apo change after KinnPorsche, Porsche healed and freed a great part of his soul. Now, though their work is still in progress, Mile starts to see Khem's wake in his friend.

He thinks about Khem, who suffers constant injustice, who desperately struggles to get out, to be able to live as a human being. Mile remembers the image of Khem - brilliant, proud, and stunning. Yet, freedom seems to be just a fragile illusion. Mile thinks about Apo's sweat and blood for this movie, about the frustration, hurt, and beauty he wears for Khem.

But, is he wearing them, or is he extracting a part of his past and soul?

Suddenly, words of The Misunderstanding(*) slip in his head. He remembers Martha trying to the point of malice to escape the reality she was living in.

"Hey Po, I read-" His sentence is cut short, because of the soft snore coming from the person next to him.

Mile freezes, afraid that any sudden movement would jostle his friend. He still has his arms linked around Mile's, cheek smushes due to his leaning on Mile's bicep. Thick, curly eyelashes. High, straight nose. Soft, plump lips. Totally, completely trusting and vulnerable, surrounded by the white of Mile's bed, cozy in his clothes and leaning into his heat. The older finds himself swallowing, his blood pressure is about to hit the ceiling.

Gosh, he's freaking yucky... not normal! Not normal at all!!

The boy's head chooses the exact moment to slip off its position and he's near being face down on the bed if not for Mile seizing him.

"Sh, it's ok." Hushes Mile as his friend furrows his brows and flutters his eyelids. "Lie down, Po."

Apo does as he's told, with help from Mile. He looks like a grumpy kid whose candy dream was cut off. He doesn't sound like one, though. Instead, he mumbles in his low, baby pitch, "...n-d to go..."

"No no. You can sleep here." The other replies, patting him. It's all it takes for Apo to fall back asleep.

Apo turns his back to him. In the dark, he has the silhouette that should appear in a canvas painting, with wide shoulders and a deadly narrow waist. Out of nowhere, the room seems to shrink and the bed feels like squeezing Mile in. The headache creeps back, knocking on his temples. Sleep comes to him like that, lulling his throbbing head and restless heart.

.

Act 2.5:

Two phones placed next to each other on the dressing table suddenly bing, at a same time.

On one screen is a message from "Mom"; The other phone has a message from a person saved as "P'Fuz - friend of P'Mile"

-------

(*) Please read the previous chapter's end note for summary of the play. I just want to write sth simple but then I read a 50-page script just to write 2 sentences, haha.

Two more days until the Lunar New Year. Wishing everyone a Dragon year full of joy and luck!!