The Glimpse Of Us

Morning light streamed through the wooden shutters, casting a golden glow across the dining space. The scent of freshly prepared breakfast—steamed rice, crispy fried eggs, warm soy milk, and fluffy pancakes—lingered in the air. Orm had just finished plating the dishes when a voice from the other room caught her attention.

"...And don't forget to take care of yourself. Your voice is barely there. I know you're a workaholic, but your body needs rest," Lingling said, firm yet affectionate.

"Sure, sure," came a nasal, hoarse reply. "I miss the nagging Lingling. Okay, got to go now. Bye, love you."

Orm stilled.

"Bye... love you too." Lingling's voice was steady, casual. A soft beep signaled the end of the call.

Orm cleared her throat lightly. "Lingling."

Lingling turned toward her, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips. "I heard your footsteps."

Orm exhaled, stepping forward. "Breakfast is ready. Let's eat." Orm took Lingling's hand, gently leading her to the dining table.

"Wow, smells nice. Don't tell me you made all this?" Lingling teased, amused.

Orm scoffed, pulling out a chair for her. "You know very well Mae Chu did all the work."

Lingling chuckled, trailing her fingers along the table before sitting down.

As they ate, Orm took a sip of her soy milk before asking, "Who were you talking to just now?"

Lingling paused, then answered simply, "My best friend. She's caught a bad flu."

Orm hummed in understanding, taking another bite of her breakfast. It seemed like a normal conversation between friends, nothing unusual.

A moment later, Lingling spoke again. "There's an event today at Lam Pao Dam Park. I was invited to attend. Would you like to come with me?"

Orm, mid-bite into a pancake, perked up. "What kind of event?"

"The Phu Thai International Festival. If you really want to see how lively Kalasin can be, this is something you shouldn't miss." Lingling's lips quirked slightly. "But I should warn you—we'll be staying until night."

Orm grinned, finishing off her breakfast. "I don't mind. As long as you're there, I'm in."

As they prepared to leave, the trio of dogs gathered near the doorway, watching them expectantly—especially Uni, who sat by Orm's feet, tail wagging in hopeful anticipation.

"Oh, you have to stay home, Uni," Orm cooed, scratching behind the Pomeranian's ears. "We'll be back late."

Uni let out a dramatic huff.

Orm laughed, scooping her up for one last snuggle before setting her down. "Be good, okay?"

With one final glance at the dogs on the porch, Orm and Lingling stepped out into the morning light, ready for the day ahead.

In the car, after setting the GPS, Orm eased onto the road. The gentle hum of the engine filled the space between them.

"Mae would be so surprised if she saw me driving now," Orm mused, navigating the quiet roads with ease.

Lingling turned slightly. "What do you mean by that?"

Orm chuckled. "Have you ever driven in Bangkok? It's chaos. Everyone's rushing, cutting each other off, never giving way. If you don't have a strong heart, you won't survive behind the wheel."

Lingling smirked. "Are you saying you were a road bully?"

"No! But my mum hated me driving because I honked too much and—maybe—cut in a little too often."

Lingling chuckled. "I think you drive just fine."

"That's because the drivers here are so nice and patient. No one even goes over 70 km/h. Look at that—he actually used his signal properly before turning!" Orm shook her head, laughing. "Bangkok me would never believe this. I think my temper's improved just by being here."

Lingling smiled knowingly. "Yeah, driving in Bangkok can drain your energy."

Orm blinked. "Wait—you've been to Bangkok?"

Lingling nodded. "I used to. Before I lost my sight."

At that, Orm fell silent, her hands steady on the wheel.

***

They finally arrived at Lam Pao Dam, where the Phu Thai International Festival was already in full swing. The sprawling festival grounds buzzed with life—music, chatter, the rhythmic beats of drums blending into the lively atmosphere. Rows of colorful tents and booths lined the area, displaying traditional crafts, textiles, and mouthwatering local delicacies.

Orm stepped out of the car, stretching her arms before turning to Lingling. "Wow. This is... a lot bigger than I expected."

Lingling smiled. "It's a major celebration. The Phu Thai ethnic community holds this festival in different locations every year, and we're lucky it's in Kalasin this time."

Orm's eyes swept over the crowd, immediately noticing the vibrant traditional attire, particularly the intricately patterned skirts worn by many of the women. "And you're a Phu Thai?!!" she asked, turning to Lingling in surprise.

Lingling chuckled. "My mother is. I'm not sure if I can fully claim the identity, but I grew up around the culture."

Orm's curiosity only grew as she observed the festival around her. "These skirts—they're everywhere. What are they called?"

"Sinh," Lingling answered smoothly. "A traditional handmade skirt. Each pattern and weave style represents a different region."

Orm's mind clicked. "Wait, the resort staff—they wear sinh as part of their uniform, right?"

Lingling nodded. "Exactly."

As they walked deeper into the festival grounds, Orm tugged at Lingling's hand, her excitement palpable. "Okay, where do we start? There's so much going on!"

Lingling smiled, letting Orm take the lead. They passed several booths showcasing traditional crafts. One caught Orm's eye—a group of skilled artisan women weaving intricate patterns into silk fabric.

Orm watched in fascination as the weaver's hands moved deftly across the loom. "Whoa... this is amazing. Look how fast they are!"

"This is mut mee," Lingling explained. "Ikat silk weaving. It's a traditional craft passed down for generations. The patterns are carefully planned before dyeing the threads, which is what makes it so intricate."

Orm leaned in closer, watching the women work. "That's insane. The details are so delicate."

Nearby, another booth demonstrated silk dyeing techniques using natural materials. A woman stirred a large pot filled with deep indigo dye, while others used turmeric and ebony fruit to create earthy hues.

Orm turned to Lingling with a mischievous grin. "I kinda want to dip my hands in and see if they turn blue."

Lingling raised an eyebrow. "Do you plan on walking around with blue hands for the rest of the day?"

"...Fair point."

They continued wandering, stopping at a clothing stall where the vendor enthusiastically explained the meaning behind different sinh patterns. Orm's eyes lit up when she spotted a deep emerald green skirt. "This one! I love this color."

The vendor smiled warmly. "A good choice. Green symbolizes prosperity and harmony."

Lingling ran her fingers along the fabric, her touch gentle but knowing. "And this one?" she asked, gesturing toward a rich ruby red sinh.

The vendor nodded approvingly. "Red represents strength and passion."

Orm grinned. "Perfect. We're getting these."

Minutes later, both of them had changed into their sinh skirts, blending in more with the crowd. Orm twirled dramatically. "How do I look?"

Lingling's lips curved. "You sound like you're posing."

Orm huffed. "Well, I can't see myself, but you can see me, right?"

Lingling's smirk deepened. "No, Baobao, I can't."

Orm froze. "Oh—wait, I—" She groaned, realizing her mistake, before dropping her head in defeat. "Koh̄k (lie)."

Lingling laughed, crossing her arms in amusement. "You got caught."

Orm sighed. "I walked right into that one."

They continued through the festival, stopping at various food stalls where Orm eagerly tried everything in sight. She handed Lingling a skewer of grilled sticky rice coated in egg. "Try this—khao chi. It's crispy on the outside, soft inside."

Lingling took a bite and hummed in approval. "Not bad."

Next, Orm picked up a handful of kraya sat, the sweet, crunchy snack made of puffed rice, peanuts, sesame, and sugar syrup. "Here, open up."

Lingling raised an eyebrow. "You're feeding me now?"

Orm grinned. "Yes. Just eat."

Lingling complied, chewing thoughtfully. "Sweet. Crunchy."

Orm nodded enthusiastically. "Right? It's addictive."

Then came khao poon nam jeow—a spicy, tangy noodle dish. Lingling took one bite and immediately perked up. "This... this is good."

Orm watched in amusement as Lingling took another spoonful. "I should've known you'd love this. You and your noodle obsession."

Lingling didn't deny it, only savoring another bite.

They were about to try another dish when Orm spotted something at one of the stalls that made her stop in her tracks. Her eyes widened in horror. "Oh, no."

Lingling turned her head slightly. "What is it?"

Orm pointed dramatically. "Larb dip."

Lingling frowned. "Raw meat salad?"

Orm swallowed hard. "Yep."

Lingling's lips twitched. "You're not going to try it?"

Orm took a slow step backward. "Nope."

Lingling smirked. "Scared?"

"I just have limits, okay?" Orm huffed.

Lingling chuckled but didn't push her.

As they continued, a rhythmic melody filled the air, drawing their attention. A group of musicians had gathered, playing traditional Phu Thai music with a mix of khaen (bamboo mouth organ), phin (lute-like instrument), saw (bowed string instrument), and drums.

Orm's eyes lit up as she watched dancers move in sync, their graceful movements flowing effortlessly with the music. "This is amazing," she murmured, completely mesmerized.

Lingling tilted her head, listening intently. "The khaen... it carries the melody so well."

Orm looked at her, intrigued. "You recognize the instruments just by listening?"

Lingling nodded. "Of course."

Orm turned back to the performance, watching as the dancers stepped and twirled with precise coordination. The crowd clapped along, cheering them on.

"I want to learn that dance," Orm declared.

Lingling chuckled. "I had a feeling you'd say that."

And before Lingling could stop her, Orm was already making her way toward the dancers, excitement brimming in her every step.

Lingling sighed, but a small smile played on her lips as she followed, already knowing that wherever Orm went, chaos—and laughter—would surely follow.

***

By late afternoon, the festival had quieted. Stalls were closing, the crowd had thinned, and laughter from lingering children filled the open park.

Orm and Lingling stayed for dinner at the organizers' invitation. Lingling was scheduled to appear on stage, though she hadn't said why.

With the festival setup clearing and the tents dismantled, Orm finally noticed the vast stretch of Lam Pao Dam. The shimmering water reflected the sky's deepening hues, stretching endlessly with no land in sight.

Then she saw it—a bicycle rental stand.

Grinning, she grabbed Lingling's hand.

"What are you—"

"Let's ride a bicycle!" Orm declared, already leading the way.

Lingling hesitated. "Baobao, you do remember I can't see, right?"

"That's why you're sitting in the back. I'll do the work, you just enjoy the ride."

Lingling sighed but didn't resist, letting Orm settle her behind her. As Orm pedaled, a breeze brushed Lingling's face, carrying the scent of earth and water. The steady rhythm of movement, the freedom of coasting—it had been so long since she'd felt this.

She wasn't walking cautiously, wasn't navigating familiar spaces. She was simply moving, the wind in her hair, the world shifting around her at a pace she didn't have to control.

And Orm—Orm was the one making it happen.

Lingling relaxed, leaning slightly against Orm's back, feeling the warmth of her steady frame.

Then—

The bicycle wobbled.

"Wait—Orm?"

"I got this, I got this—"

She did not have this.

Orm hadn't noticed the incline. The front wheel wobbled, and before she could correct it—

"Oh no—"

They tumbled onto the grass. Orm instinctively twisted, pulling Lingling against her as they rolled before landing in a tangled heap.

Lingling's head rested against Orm's chest, their limbs entwined in the soft grass.

"...Are we dead?" Orm mumbled.

Lingling let out a huff of laughter. "I don't think so."

Orm opened one eye to see the sky bathed in warm hues. The wind rustled the trees, the festival music faded in the distance.

"Well, that was dramatic," Orm chuckled breathlessly. "I swear I had it under control."

Lingling shifted, settling her head more comfortably against Orm's chest. "Mm. Is that why we're on the ground?"

"Shh. Just enjoy this moment." Orm tightened her arms slightly, letting herself sink into the quiet warmth of Lingling's presence. Her fingers brushed through soft, lavender-scented hair.

Lingling didn't move. Didn't protest.

She simply stayed there, listening to Orm's steady heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of her breath.

The dam stretched endlessly before them, silver with the coming night. The wind whispered through the trees, and somewhere in the distance, the last echoes of the festival played on.

She didn't see any of it.

But right now, she didn't need to.

***

As the evening settled in, the festival's energy shifted. The bustling crowds had given way to a more refined atmosphere as attendees made their way toward the community hall for the closing ceremony and dinner. Rows of tables had been set up, each adorned with woven Phu Thai textiles and floral arrangements, their colors rich under the glow of hanging lanterns.

Orm and Lingling's seats were positioned near the stage, offering a clear view of the night's proceedings. While waiting for the event to begin, Orm glanced around the hall, her gaze drifting to a display on the far wall.

It was a collection of framed photographs and certificates—snapshots of the Phu Thai community's achievements over the years. Curiosity piqued, Orm stood and wandered closer, scanning the familiar and unfamiliar faces in the images.

And then—

She froze.

Her eyes locked onto a photograph of a much younger Lingling, standing on stage, shaking hands with an official while holding a gleaming trophy. Beside her stood two other young individuals, equally victorious, their smiles bright with accomplishment.

"P' Ling!!" Orm's voice shot up an octave as she practically sprinted back to Lingling's side. "This is you!"

Lingling barely had time to react before Orm was back at the display, pulling out her phone to snap a picture. She then spotted something else—a framed sheet of handwritten music sheet, the ink slightly faded with time.

Orm squinted at the neat script at the bottom of the page. Three names were signed at the bottom. The first two were unfamiliar to her. The third—

"Lingling Sirilak Kwong," she read aloud. Her eyes widened. "P' Ling! Is this your handwriting?"

Lingling chuckled softly. "It should be."

Orm stared at her, completely floored. "Wait—what is this?"

Lingling, still seated, reached for her glass of water and took a measured sip before answering. "That," she said, "is the song that won the Thailand Contemporary Music Championship when I was seventeen."

Orm's jaw dropped. "You what?"

Lingling tilted her head slightly, as if amused by Orm's reaction. "I won the competition with my best friends. We wrote that song together."

"You—" Orm's brain short-circuited for a moment. "You—wait—you competed? And won? At seventeen?"

"Mm." Lingling nodded. "It was a national event. The winning piece was performed at the closing ceremony. We worked on it for months."

Orm could hardly process the information. Lingling wasn't just talented—she was an award-winning songwriter?!

Before she could demand a full explanation, the hum of a microphone crackling to life drew her attention.

"May I have your attention, please," an announcer called. "The formal ceremony is about to begin. Kindly take your seats."

Orm blinked, still reeling, but Lingling simply extended her hand. Orm grasped it instinctively, guiding her back to their table. But even as they sat down, Orm couldn't stop sneaking glances at Lingling.

What else don't I know about you?

The ceremony began with speeches from community leaders, their voices filled with warmth and pride as they spoke about the preservation of Phu Thai traditions. Orm listened absently, still fixated on what she had just learned.

Then, an elder took the stage, his voice clear and steady.

"Tonight, we would like to honor an individual whose dedication has greatly contributed to the preservation of our heritage," he announced. "A woman who has ensured that our traditions—our art, our music, our craftsmanship—continue to thrive, not just within our community but beyond."

Orm's ears perked up as the speaker continued.

"For her unwavering support of local artisans, her efforts in uplifting Phu Thai culture through her work, and her deep connection to our people, we present this recognition to—"

"Lingling Sirilak Kwong."

A ripple of applause spread through the hall. Orm turned to Lingling, eyes widening.

Lingling exhaled softly before standing. Orm, still momentarily stunned, quickly recovered and took her hand, guiding her to the steps of the stage. A staff member reached out to assist, and Orm let go, stepping back as Lingling ascended to the center.

The elder smiled as Lingling reached the center, where a ceremonial scarf—a Pha Khao Ma, intricately handwoven—was draped over her shoulders by one of the village grandmothers. It was a gesture of respect, an acknowledgment of her role as a guardian of Phu Thai heritage.

Lingling bowed her head slightly in gratitude.

From the audience, Orm watched, her heart thrumming with something indescribable.

First, she had learned that Lingling was an award-winning songwriter.

Now, she was watching her be honored as a protector of culture and tradition.

She had known from the start that Lingling was remarkable—but tonight, she was beginning to realize that she had only scratched the surface of who she truly was.

And for the first time, Orm wasn't just admiring Lingling.

She was in awe of her.

***

As the dinner concluded, the hum of conversation faded, leaving behind a peaceful quiet. The festival grounds were nearly empty now, the energy of the day dissolving into the stillness of the night.

Orm and Lingling wandered toward a wooden bench near the water's edge. The vast stretch of Lam Pao Dam reflected the sky, its dark waters illuminated by the full moon, which cast a silver glow over the rippling surface. The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of damp earth and distant blooms.

Orm exhaled slowly, absorbing the beauty of the moment. "It's peaceful here."

Lingling hummed softly in agreement, her fingers grazing the edge of her skirt as she sat in quiet contemplation. Then, she spoke—her voice gentle, yet carrying the weight of a story long kept.

"I was seventeen when I moved to Kalasin."

Orm turned her head, surprised. Lingling rarely spoke about her past so openly.

"My parents decided to return to my mother's hometown. I didn't have a choice—I just followed. But everything was different. The language, the culture, the way of life. I struggled to fit in." She let out a small chuckle. "It took me a long time to find my place."

Orm listened closely, sensing the vulnerability beneath her words.

"The one thing that kept me going was music," Lingling admitted. "It was my escape, my connection to something familiar." She tilted her head slightly. "I found people online who shared that passion—two of them became my closest friends. We created music together, pushed each other to be better."

Orm's heart clenched. She already sensed where this was going.

"And then," Lingling continued, a nostalgic lilt in her voice, "we entered the Thailand Contemporary Music Championship. We spent months composing, refining, practicing. And somehow... we won."

Orm's breath caught. Even though she had already seen the proof earlier, hearing it from Lingling herself made it feel real.

"You won TCMC?"

Lingling smiled. "I did."

Orm gaped at her. As an idol, she understood the weight of such an achievement. It wasn't just recognition—it was validation of true talent.

"That's huge, Jie Jie! Why didn't you ever mention this before?"

Lingling let out a soft laugh. "It was a long time ago."

But to Orm, it changed everything. Lingling wasn't just a songwriter—she was an award-winning musician.

"That win gave me confidence," Lingling continued. "After high school, I moved to Bangkok. My friends and I chased bigger dreams, built something from the ground up."

Her voice softened. "And then... I lost my sight."

The shift in tone was subtle, but it hit Orm like a blow to the chest.

Lingling's fingers brushed over the fabric of her skirt, grounding herself. "At first, I thought it was temporary. I tried treatment after treatment, hoping for a miracle." A quiet pause. "But nothing worked. And after a while... I had to accept it."

Orm's throat tightened. She couldn't imagine the devastation of rising so high, only to have everything taken away.

"I thought I had lost everything," Lingling admitted. "My independence, my career... my sense of self." She exhaled, her expression unreadable. "I felt like I was drowning."

Orm clenched her fists.

"But the people around me never gave up," Lingling continued. "My family, my friends... They reminded me that my life wasn't over. They held onto my shares in the business, made sure I still had a future. And when I was strong enough, they gave me everything they had saved for me." A small, wistful smile tugged at her lips. "So I used it to build something new—something that would give back to this place that became my home."

Orm sat in silence, absorbing every word. She had always seen Lingling as someone composed, someone who had it all figured out. But now, she saw her for who she truly was—a survivor, someone who had lost so much yet refused to be defeated.

And yet, she hadn't let it break her.

Orm thought about her own life. The loneliness of the idol world. The exhaustion of always performing, always giving pieces of herself away. She had spent years chasing perfection, approval, achievements—only to feel emptier each time.

She had come to Kalasin to remember why she loved music.

Lingling had lost so much, yet she had rebuilt herself. If she could do that, then maybe... maybe Orm could, too.

Orm exhaled softly, her fingers tightening around Lingling's hand.

They stayed like that, side by side, the full moon casting its glow over the water.

Orm leaned back, letting out a slow, contented sigh. "It's beautiful..."

Lingling, seated beside her, turned slightly. "Tell me."

Orm glanced at her, watching how the moonlight painted her features in silver and blue.

🎶I think I'll picture us, you with the waves, the ocean's colors on your face🎵

The lyrics slipped into Orm's mind, unbidden, like the soft melody of their duet still lingered in the night air. She swallowed, heart tightening at how perfectly it fit—how perfectly Lingling fit in this moment.

"The lake is glowing," Orm murmured. "The moonlight reflects on the water like a thousand little lanterns floating in the dark. The sky is clear... the stars are bright, but the moon..." She hesitated. "The moon is the most breathtaking of all."

Lingling smiled, as if picturing it in her mind. "It sounds beautiful."

Orm swallowed. Something about this moment—the stillness, the quiet intimacy—made words feel almost unnecessary.

Before she could stop herself, she whispered, "I wish you could see—"

She froze.

But Lingling simply completed the thought for her.

"The beauty of the full moon tonight?"

Orm turned to her in surprise, but Lingling's expression remained calm, as if she had expected it.

Slowly, Orm reached out, fingers brushing against Lingling's hand, tightening ever so slightly.

"Yes."

Lingling let out a soft breath, her fingers curling around Orm's. "Then tell me," she said gently, "how beautiful it is."

Orm didn't answer right away. Instead, she lifted a hand, fingertips grazing Lingling's chin, tilting it slightly toward her.

"It's so beautiful," Orm whispered. "And mesmerizing... like seeing the face of the one your heart longs for."

Lingling stilled.

Orm leaned in, pressing her lips against Lingling's—soft, warm, tentative.

For a heartbeat, Lingling froze. Then, slowly, she melted into the kiss.

When they finally pulled away, Orm rested their foreheads together, fingers still laced. The silence between them was full, unspoken yet understood.

And as Lingling rested her head against Orm's shoulder, a small, knowing smile gracing her lips, Orm knew—

This was the moment everything changed.

🎼I'll leave my heart with your air
So let me fly with you🎵
Will you be forever with me?🎶