You are mine

Orm point of view

3 years has passed since Only You tour ended, Orm and Lingling travelled around Asia for a year before going each way apart. Ling started to be more busy with photoshoots with more and more brands, going abroad for weeks to meet French and Italian brands, while Orm started to build her little queendom in Thailand, thriving in acting and modelling and keeping her brand Keep Silent the first brand of the country, growing famous sponsors one after the others. Lingling and Orm were still friends, best friends they will answer separately to journalists, but they both knew the truth, they were more than friends, at least that what Orm used to think before she saw Lingling drifting away. Here’s a continuation of the passage, building on Orm’s perspective:

At first, Orm convinced herself it was just the distance. Lingling was working with international brands, rubbing elbows with European designers and jet-setting to glamorous cities, while Orm’s focus remained firmly rooted in Thailand. Their schedules rarely aligned, but whenever they did manage to talk, Lingling’s smile—bright, genuine, and familiar—always eased Orm’s worries.

But over time, things began to change. The calls became less frequent. The texts, once filled with emojis and inside jokes, grew shorter, more formal. Lingling would send pictures from Paris or Milan, looking effortlessly radiant in couture gowns, captioned with a quick “Wish you were here.” Orm would respond with a thumbs-up emoji or a simple “Looks amazing,” knowing deep down that it wasn’t enough, she wanted to say more, that she wanted to be more than friends, that she wanted to be with her every single day, that she was in love with her for years now. But she didn’t, and today, even if it was never spoken between them, there was no real relationship left and she hated herself for letting Lingling go.

Flashback, two years ago

Orm’s family had gathered in the backyard to celebrate Att’s bachelor’s degree. The air was alive with laughter and cheers, creating a lively and joyful atmosphere. Yet, Mae’s attention kept drifting toward Orm, who sat apart, frequently glancing at her phone and forcing cheerful smiles that didn’t quite reach her eyes. As the soirée drew to a close, Mae and Orm found themselves sitting side by side, a quiet moment amidst the festivities.

Sensing that something was bothering Orm, Mae decided to speak up. She had a feeling it had to do with Lingling, though she wasn’t sure how to approach the subject. Mae hesitated for a moment, watching as Orm stared blankly at her phone, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the screen. Gathering her courage, Mae leaned closer and gently said, “Orm, are you okay? You seem... distracted. Is it about Lingling?”

“Did you know?” Orm’s voice was barely above a whisper, her words trembling as tears welled in her eyes.

Mae blinked, her chest tightening. She didn’t need to ask what Orm meant; she already knew. This was about Lingling’s departure to Italy.

Mae hesitated, guilt flickering across her face. 

“I… I did,” she admitted softly, her voice tinged with regret. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Orm let out a shaky breath, her hand clutching the phone tightly.

 “Why didn’t she tell me herself?” Her voice cracked, betraying the hurt she tried to suppress.

“I think she didn’t want to make it harder for either of you,” Mae replied, her gaze fixed on Orm’s trembling hands. “But she should have. You deserved to know.”

Orm shook her head, blinking back tears. “It feels like I wasn’t important enough for her to say goodbye properly. Like I’m just… forgettable.”

“You’re not,” Mae said firmly, reaching out to gently touch Orm’s arm. “You’re anything but forgettable, Orm. Lingling made a mistake, but that doesn’t change who you are or what you mean to the people around you.”

Silence hung between them for a moment, the hum of distant conversation from the rest of the party a faint backdrop.

“Why does it still hurt so much, Mae?” Orm finally asked, her voice a broken whisper.

“Because you care about her,” Mae said, her voice gentle with understanding. “And caring about someone always comes with risks. But it also shows how strong you are, to feel that deeply. But, baby, it’s never too late to tell someone how you really feel. Never.”

Orm closed her eyes, a single tear slipping down her cheek, her shoulders rising and falling with a heavy breath. Mae stayed close, her hand resting lightly on Orm’s, offering quiet reassurance.

Some wounds couldn’t be mended with words, but Mae knew the power of simply being there. And in that moment, Orm wasn’t alone.

End flashback

Today, Orm’s thoughts once again drifted to Lingling. She knew Lingling had returned to Thailand after months in Italy, where she had worked alongside P’Mam for Versace and other prestigious luxury brands that vied to have her as their face. Mae had always stayed in touch with them, but since Orm had moved out of her parents’ house, she no longer overheard their conversations.

A year ago, Mae frequently brought up Lingling, asking endless questions in an attempt to unravel what had happened between them. Mae only knew that something significant had occurred—something Orm had sworn never to speak of again. Over time, Mae had stopped asking, the name Lingling fading from her conversations as if she’d accepted that Orm’s silence wasn’t ready to be broken.

Orm shook the thoughts away as she neared the Channel 3 building, its gleaming facade reflecting the morning sun. Today was important. She had a meeting with her co-stars Alex, Bow, James,Nychaa and Dew to finalize preparations for the premiere of "Whispers in the Fog," the highly anticipated horror movie they had poured their hearts into.

The buzz surrounding the film was palpable, with industry insiders predicting it would be a massive success. For Orm, this project wasn’t just another stepping stone in her career—it was a testament to her resilience and growth.

As she stepped through the sleek glass doors, Orm took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. Whatever emotions Lingling’s memory stirred, they would stay locked away for now. Today wasn’t about the past—it was about shining in the present.

Inside the sleek Channel 3 conference room, the creative team and cast gathered around the polished table. Alex, Bow, and Dew were already deep in conversation about the premiere of "Whispers in the Fog." James and Nychaa were discussing their upcoming scenes, while Orm quietly skimmed through the final edits of the film on her tablet.

Dew, ever the sharp and efficient boss, stood at the head of the table, his presence commanding attention. "Alright, everyone," he began, his voice steady and authoritative. "The premiere's just around the corner. Let's make sure we're all aligned. Alex, how’s the marketing team doing?"

"All set. The trailer’s out, the posters are getting great traction, and the guest list for the premiere is locked," Alex responded confidently.

"Good. Bow, media schedules?" Dew continued.

"Everything’s ready. We’ve got press interviews, photoshoots, and some exclusive content to drop. Just need the final sign-off from you on timing," Bow answered, looking up from her notes.

Dew nodded, satisfied. His gaze then shifted to Orm, and for a moment, the room quieted. “Orm, how are you feeling about the premiere? Ready for the press, the interviews?”

Orm gave him a small smile, trying to mask the nerves she felt inside. "I'm good, Dew. Ready to go," she replied, her tone confident despite the fluttering in her stomach.

Dew studied her with a look that seemed to pierce through the façade, his expression softening slightly. The two had a history that went beyond business—Dew had been close to both Orm and Lingling, always looking out for them since they’d first entered the industry. He had watched them grow, mentored them, and seen firsthand the strain Lingling’s departure had placed on Orm. 

“Alright, we’re good then. Thank you, everyone,” Dew said with a small smile, her sharp yet warm gaze sweeping across the room. One by one, the cast and team began to gather their belongings, chatting briefly as they left.

Orm stayed in her seat, her phone in hand, scrolling absentmindedly. Dew lingered, her eyes fixed on Orm as the room gradually emptied. When the last person left, Dew stepped closer.

“N’Orm, please look at me,” Dew said softly, her tone gentle yet commanding.

Orm hesitated before lifting her eyes, and in that moment, the cracks in her composure were impossible to hide. Her tears shimmered, her vulnerability laid bare. Despite the strong, polished exterior she always showed, Dew could see just how close Orm was to breaking.

“I can’t believe she’s been back for weeks and didn’t contact me at all, P’Dew,” Orm finally said, her voice trembling, her words spilling out like a dam breaking. Before she could stop herself, she stepped forward and collapsed into Dew’s arms, her sobs muffled against Dew’s shoulder. “Since when did I become a stranger to her?” she whispered, her voice fragile and filled with anguish.

Dew wrapped her arms around Orm, holding her tightly, offering the quiet comfort only someone who truly cared could give. She didn’t say anything at first—words couldn’t fix this.

After a moment, Orm pulled away, hastily wiping at her face. “Sorry about that,” she muttered, her voice tinged with embarrassment as she sat down again, burying her face in her hands.

Dew crouched beside her, placing a steady hand on Orm’s arm. “You don’t need to apologize,” she said softly, her voice filled with understanding. “You’ve been holding this in for so long, N’Orm. I’ve seen it, even if you thought no one noticed. But you don’t have to carry this alone.”

Orm didn’t respond, her fingers pressing into her temples as if to block out the overwhelming emotions.

Dew’s expression turned pained. She had known this moment would come. All throughout filming, Orm had been distant, her usual spark dimmed. Everyone had noticed the change, but no one could find the words—or the courage—to reach out to her.

And Dew knew the truth Orm didn’t yet—the one thing that might break her completely. But was now the right time to tell her? Could Orm handle it? Dew’s hand lingered on her arm, her lips parting as if to speak, before she hesitated. Dew exhaled slowly, the weight of the situation pressing on her shoulders. Lingling had been back in Thailand for three weeks now, but it wasn’t widely known. She’d returned quietly, focusing on wrapping up the final scenes for You Are Mine. The production had been kept under wraps, and Lingling’s tight schedule had made it easier for her to avoid public appearances—or reaching out to Orm.

Dew had heard about Lingling’s return almost immediately through industry whispers, but she hadn’t known how to tell Orm. Lingling’s absence had left a scar, and her sudden reappearance, tied to a massive project with Change 2561, would only complicate things further.

As Dew glanced at Orm sitting silently, she knew the clock was ticking. The teaser for Lingling’s movie would be out tonight, and there would be no escaping it. It wasn’t just the film; it was the confirmation that Lingling had been back for weeks without so much as a word to Orm and Dew is pretty sure when she will see what the project is about she will boil with every emotion possible. 

“N’Orm,” Dew began, her voice softer now, cautious.

Orm looked up, her face guarded. “What is it, P’Dew?”

Dew hesitated, then spoke carefully. “Lingling’s been back for a few weeks as you know but she was finishing her last scenes for the new movie. I thought… I thought you should know before tonight.”

“What about tonight? What new movie?” Orm asked, disbelief etched across her face. She tried to piece together Dew’s words, but the revelation hit like a storm. Lingling had a movie project? Orm’s mind raced, fragments of thoughts crashing into each other as she stood abruptly, pacing the room.

“What are you talking about, P’Dew?” Her voice was louder now, teetering on the edge of panic.

Dew hesitated, her calm demeanor cracking under the weight of what she was about to say. “We’ve collaborated with Change 2561… for the new sapphic movie,” Dew began carefully.

But before she could continue, a sound escaped Orm—a sharp, guttural noise that made Dew’s heart sink. It was as if Orm’s heart had broken audibly, a raw and unguarded expression of pain that filled the room.

Orm froze mid-step, her hands trembling as they gripped the back of a chair. “You’re telling me… Lingling is in this movie? 

“Yes,” Dew admitted softly. “She’s the lead.”

Orm let out a shaky breath, her eyes wide and unfocused as the weight of the revelation settled in. “She’s been back for weeks… and now this? She didn’t say a word. Not a single word, P’Dew.”

Dew stepped forward cautiously, her voice steady but empathetic. “I didn’t want you to find out this way, N’Orm. I know it’s a lot to take in, and I didn’t know how to tell you. But I didn’t want you blindsided when the teaser drops tonight.”

Here’s an improved version with refined language and emotional depth:

"Who's the lead with her?" Orm asks, her voice tense. She has to know. She needs to know who the lucky woman is—the one who gets to kiss her Ling now. Once, she had been that lucky one.

“Sonya Saranphat,” P’Dew replies cautiously. She’s well aware of Orm's jealous streak and knows all too well the effect Lingling has on women.

Orm rises abruptly, her chair scraping the floor. She can't stay here—not like this. She needs air. Space.

“I’m sorry, P’Dew. I need to go. I need to be alone.” She grabs her bag and turns to leave.

Just as she reaches the door, P’Dew’s voice follows her.

“I’m here for you, N’Orm. Always,” she says softly.

Orm hesitates for a second, her heart heavy. She leaves the building with more weight on her shoulders than when she arrived.

Tonight, she will have to confront a part of her past she’d fought so hard to bury—and she can’t do it alone. She needs to go home, back to the comfort of her family. She calls her mother to tell her she is on her way.

The familiar scent of jasmine greets Orm as she steps through the gate. Mae is already on the porch, her eyes soft with concern.

“Orm?” Mae’s voice is gentle but steady.

Orm’s composure crumbles. She doesn’t speak—she doesn’t have to. Mae pulls her into a warm embrace.

“You’re home now,” Mae whispers.

The weight in Orm’s chest eases, just a little. She lets herself be led inside, where love waits to hold her together.

Mae guides Orm to the kitchen table and sits across from her, eyes filled with quiet concern.

“What happened, Orm?” Mae asks gently.

Orm hesitates, staring at her phone. It’s 6 p.m. now—she’s counting the minutes, maybe the hours. Her breath catches as she places the phone down and looks at Mae, her voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s Ling... I know why she’s back. And it has nothing to do with me.”

Her heart clenches at the words. Deep down, she had hoped—hoped that Ling’s return to Thailand was somehow connected to her. But she was wrong. So wrong. And she hated herself for hoping.

Mae’s brow furrows as she reaches for Orm’s hand, squeezing it gently.

“What? What do you mean?” Mae asks, confused. P’Mam had only mentioned Ling’s work, nothing specific.

Orm exhales shakily. “P’Dew told me... she’s starring in the next sapphic movie. And her co-star? An actress from another network—someone who’s been obsessed with Ling for years.” Orm’s voice cracks, her emotions tumbling out in a breathless rush. “I’m angry, Ma. So angry. And sad. And heartbroken. And... mad at Ling. But mostly... at myself.”

Her chest rises and falls, her breaths shallow. Mae reaches out, resting her other hand over Orm’s trembling fingers.

“Okay, honey. Calm down,” Mae says softly, her voice steady and warm. “Breathe. You’re going to be okay.”

Mae watches her daughter with quiet concern, her own thoughts spinning as she tries to make sense of it. Ling, kissing someone else on screen? She knows this will shatter Orm—but she also knows it’s time for the truth. This charade has gone on far too long.

"Listen to me, Orm," Mae begins, her voice calm but unyielding. "This isn’t just about a movie—it’s bigger than that, and you know it. Ling kissing another woman on screen isn’t the real issue. The truth is, whatever you had with Ling—it ended over a year ago."

Orm flinches, the words cutting deeper than she expected. She feels like she’s unraveling, but she doesn’t stop Mae. She needs to hear this.

Mae takes a breath, her gaze steady. "And I’m going to be honest, my dear daughter—because someone has to say it. I speak for the entire LingOrm fandom when I ask: what the hell happened that night? Because whatever it was, it changed everything. It changed Ling. It changed you. And no one knows why."

Orm’s breath catches in her throat. The memory surges forward—the night she broke Ling’s heart, the night she stood there as Ling cried and did nothing. She could have stopped it. She could have fixed it.

Tears burn at the corners of her eyes, but Mae doesn’t look away. Orm knows that her mother isn’t trying to hurt her—Mae is trying to pull her out of the wreckage before she drowns in it completely.

Flashback that night ( 3 years ago)

They were at the end of the Only You tour in Bangkok and everything was going perfectly well to finalize the tour. Ling and Orm were only growing closer and everyone around them kept asking themselves when are they going to be together. The chemistry was off-charts and the entire world was falling in love with lingorm. 

At the end of the show, some of the Only You cast—Orm, Ling, Kate, Nene, and Smith—headed out for drinks to celebrate the end of the tour. The bar they chose was lively, filled with the hum of conversation, bursts of laughter, and the pulse of music. The dim lighting glowed over groups of people dancing, drinking, and unwinding after a long day.

It was close to midnight, and the energy in the room had reached its peak. People were more animated, tipsy giggles rising above the music. At their table, the drinks flowed freely—but not for Ling and Smith, the only two abstaining.

Ling leaned back, absentmindedly stirring her soda as her gaze drifted across the bar, settling on Orm. She was on the dancefloor with Kate and Nene, spinning and swaying, her laughter ringing out. Orm’s dancing had turned bold, carefree, and a little reckless—a sight that made Ling’s heart race and her stomach twist at the same time.

Smith noticed and smirked, nudging Ling out of her thoughts.

“Are you ever going to tell her?” he asked, his tone teasing but knowing.

Ling blinked, pulling herself back from the reverie. "What? What do you mean?”

Smith laughed. “Come on. You know exactly what I mean.” He nodded toward Orm, whose hair whipped around as she danced.

Ling sighted, her gaze lingering. “I want to go home... but I don’t think her night’s over yet.”

Smith raised an eyebrow as Ling stood, her eyes narrowing as two men edged their way toward Orm and Nene. A chill ran down Ling’s spine, her protective instincts flaring. She started toward the dancefloor, determined to intercept them.

Smith groaned and followed her, half-expecting Ling to throw a punch.

But before the strangers could get any closer, Orm turned, sensing Ling’s approach as if by instinct. A wide, radiant smile spread across her face as she threw her arms open.

“Baobao!” Orm giggled, stumbling into Ling’s arms without hesitation. Her grip was tight as she wrapped herself around Ling’s neck.

Ling caught her, steadying her with firm hands around her waist. Up close, she could see the flush on Orm’s cheeks, the slight glassiness in her eyes.

“You’re very drunk, N’Orm,” Ling whispered, her voice low and soft, laced with concern.

Orm only giggled again, burying her face in Ling’s shoulder. Ling held her a little tighter, ignoring the noise around them. For that moment, it felt like it was just the two of them. And it was getting harder and harder for Ling to pretend this wasn’t exactly where she wanted to be.

Ling tightened her hold around Orm’s waist, her voice soft but firm.

“Come on, N’Orm, let me take you home. You’ve had enough for tonight.”

Orm pulled back slightly, swaying but defiant, her lips forming a playful pout.

“Nooo,” Orm slurred, waving her hand in protest. “The night’s still young!” She grinned and spun clumsily, nearly bumping into a passing server. Ling caught her again, exasperated but patient.

"Orm..." Ling’s tone softened, but her chest felt tight. Why can’t she see I’m just trying to protect her?

Before Ling could say more, the sound of a familiar voice pierced through the noise of the bar.

“Having fun, N’Orm?”

Ling’s heart sank. She turned to see Popor standing near the bar, holding a drink, her smile sharp with something darker beneath it. Popor was radiant and confident in a way that made people turn their heads—and Ling hated that she did.

Popor wasn’t just a friend; she’d had an obvious crush on Orm for years. Ling had always felt the tension, the unspoken rivalry. And now, seeing Popor here, with her eyes locked on Orm, made the jealousy in Ling’s chest burn hotter.

Orm’s face lit up at the sight of Popor. "P’Popor!" she squealed, waving excitedly.

Ling felt like she’d been punched in the gut.

Popor made her way over, her eyes flicking between Ling and Orm with a knowing glint.

“Looks like someone’s having a little too much fun,” Popor teased, though her gaze lingered a second too long on Ling’s hands, still resting protectively on Orm’s waist.

“I was just trying to get her home,” Ling muttered, already sensing how this was going to play out.

Orm leaned into Popor’s side, laughing. “But Ling’s being so serious! She’s no fun tonight.”

Ling’s jaw tightened. Popor wrapped an arm around Orm’s shoulders like she belonged there, and Ling felt something snap inside her.

The night only got worse from there.

Orm ordered another drink despite Ling’s protests, and the alcohol finally began to hit her hard. Her balance wavered, and her laughter turned sluggish. Ling tried again to lead her out, but Popor stepped in.

“Maybe you should let her stay,” Popor said casually. “She’s fine.”

Ling’s temper flared. “She’s not fine.”

Popor raised an eyebrow. “You sure it’s her you’re worried about? Or is this about something else?”

Ling clenched her fists at her sides, trying to keep her composure, but her mind raced.

Then, as if fate was mocking her, Orm tripped over her own feet and fell into Popor’s arms instead of hers but Ling didn’t hear any of it. 

Popor steadied Orm and gave Ling a pointed look, as if she’d already won. Ling’s heart was a storm of jealousy and guilt. She’d come here to protect Orm, to stay by her side. Smith, who saw the tension rising in Ling.

"Orm, please... let’s go home," Ling pleaded, her voice trembling as she watched Orm lean heavily into Popor’s arms. Her heart felt like it was being torn apart piece by piece.

Smith stepped in, his tone calm but firm. "Yeah, come on, Ormie. Let’s call it a night. Even the girls are ready to go."

"Come on, girl, let’s go," Nene urged as she reached for Orm’s hand, but Orm pulled away, defiant. Her eyes locked on the nearest drink, and before anyone could stop her, she grabbed it and downed it in one go.

Ling’s patience snapped. The recklessness, the danger—it was too much. She grabbed Orm’s arm, her grip tight as desperation boiled into anger.

"You’re coming with me," Ling said, her voice low but furious. "Whether you like it or not."

She began dragging Orm toward the exit, their friends frozen, watching in uneasy silence. But Orm jerked to a sudden stop and shoved Ling away with surprising force.

"Get away from me!" Orm shouted, her voice cutting through the music.

Ling staggered back, stunned. Orm had never spoken to her like that. The Orm she knew wasn’t there—this version was someone else entirely.

"I want to party, Ling, okay?" Orm spat, her words sharp as knives. "And guess what? You’re not exactly the best person for that."

The venom in Orm’s voice shocked even herself, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. The chaos in her mind was winning.

"And tonight..." Orm glanced at Popor, then back at Ling, her next words dripping with finality. "It’s Popor I want to be with. Like it or not."

Ling’s breath hitched. She felt the blow in her chest before the words even settled. Her vision blurred with tears, but she didn’t let them fall. Her fists clenched tightly at her sides.

“Why?” Ling’s voice broke as she stepped closer, lowering it so only Orm could hear. “Why are you doing this to me? Why are you breaking my heart on purpose, Orm?”

Orm blinked, thrown off by the raw pain in Ling’s voice, but she didn’t move. Ling’s words rushed out in a trembling wave.

"You know how I feel about her. And you still choose her over me? For what? A fun night?"

Orm hesitated, but then she nodded slowly. Her expression hardened. "Well... yes. Maybe that is what I want."

Ling’s world shattered. She stared at Orm for a moment longer, waiting—praying—for some sign that this was a lie, that Orm didn’t mean it. But none came.

Without another word, Orm turned and walked back toward Popor, her laughter ringing hollow in Ling’s ears.

Ling stood frozen in the middle of the bar, feeling like the ground had crumbled beneath her.

Kate, Nene, and Smith hurried to her side.

"I’ll stay with Kate to keep an eye on Orm," Smith said softly. "Nene will take you home, okay?"

Ling nodded numbly, unable to form words. The weight of everything pressed down on her as Nene gently led her out of the bar.

The night sky felt colder than it had any right to be. And as Ling stepped into the quiet outside, she knew that something inside her had been irreparably broken.

end of flashback

Mae blinked, processing Orm’s confession before letting out a soft, surprised breath.

“Oh wow... I didn’t expect that, Orm.” Mae’s voice was gentle but filled with quiet sadness. She studied her daughter’s face, regret flickering in her eyes. “Why, Orm? Why did you do it?”

Orm swallowed hard, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “I was drunk that night, but... I didn’t black out. I knew what I was doing at first.” Her voice was unsteady. “I wanted to make Ling jealous with Popor—just for a second. I thought it would be harmless... but then something flipped inside me. This... angry, mean side took over.”

Mae’s face softened as she wrapped Orm in her arms. “Oh, baby,” she murmured, stroking Orm’s hair. “You know not everyone handles alcohol the same way.”

Orm pulled back slightly, shaking her head. “But I can’t blame the alcohol, Mae. I remember everything. Every single word I said to her. I chose them to hurt her—and it worked.” Her gaze dropped to the floor. “I hate myself for it. I should’ve gone home with her. I should’ve stayed by her side.”

Mae hesitated, wiping a tear from Orm’s cheek. “Can I ask you something, Orm?”

Orm nodded, bracing herself. She didn’t know what to expect, but one thing was certain—no more lies.

Mae’s eyes searched her daughter’s face. “Were you in love with Ling?”

It was the same question Mae had asked years ago—the one Orm had dodged with a panicked, resounding no. But not this time.

Orm’s breath caught in her throat, but the truth was already there, rising to the surface. She exhaled slowly.

“I was...” Orm’s voice cracked as she met her mother’s tearful gaze. “And I still am, Mom.” Her voice broke completely, and she buried her face in Mae’s shoulder, sobbing. “I’m in love with Ling. I’ve always been in love with her.”

Mae held her tighter, whispering soothing words as Orm cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.

The confession hurt—it was raw and heartbreaking—but it also felt like a release. For the first time in years, Orm wasn’t running from her feelings. She had finally said it out loud, even if it felt too late.

Lingling point of view

 Lingling’s return to Bangkok had been a whirlwind of chaos. Between settling into her new house and wrapping up the final stages of her movie, she barely had a moment to breathe. Every hour of her day was accounted for—calls, rehearsals, meetings—leaving no time for herself. She hadn’t even called her parents since she’d returned, something that gnawed at her, but the weight of her schedule kept pushing it to the back of her mind.

Bangkok felt both familiar and distant, and for now, she was just trying to keep up.Late at night, when the noise of the day finally faded and the silence of her new home settled in, Lingling's thoughts drifted—always back to Orm.

No matter how busy she was, how many meetings or scenes she had, Orm’s face lingered at the edges of her mind. The way Orm’s laugh could fill a room, the warmth in her eyes when she was happy, and the heartbreaking distance in her gaze that night at the bar.

Lingling let out a long, unsteady breath as she sank onto the couch. She had told herself over and over that she’d moved on. That she could live without knowing the answers to all the questions Orm had left her with.

But she wasn’t sure if she believed that anymore.

Why did it still hurt so much? Why did Orm’s absence still feel like a missing piece she couldn’t fill, no matter how successful or busy she became?

Ling closed her eyes, but instead of sleep, memories of Orm flooded in—their late-night talks, quiet walks, and all the moments Ling thought could have been the start of something more.

And beneath all the layers of hurt and regret, there was a truth Lingling couldn’t escape—she was still in love with Orm. And that terrified her.

But she also knew she couldn’t stay trapped in the past. She had to turn the page, no matter how much it hurt. Italy had been a refuge, a place where she could finally breathe again. Filming You Are Mine had been far from the disaster she feared it would be.

At first, she had been hesitant to accept the role, afraid of how people would react to seeing someone other than Orm by her side on screen. The thought of sharing that kind of chemistry with someone else felt impossible. But with her parents' unwavering support—and P’Mam's gentle encouragement—she realized she needed this chance to move forward.

She was grateful it had been Sonya. From the first day on set, Sonya had gone out of her way to make Lingling feel comfortable, showing kindness and professionalism that eased her fears. For the first time in a long while, Lingling felt like she could rebuild something. Maybe it wasn’t the same as before, but it was a start.

Lingling walked into the quiet café where she and P’Mam always met when they wanted to avoid the noise of the city. The familiar scent of roasted coffee beans and fresh pastries felt oddly comforting. P’Mam was already there, seated at their usual table near the window, scrolling through her phone with a small, satisfied smile.

As Lingling approached, P’Mam looked up, her eyes lighting up.

“You’ve seen it, haven’t you?” P’Mam asked, her grin widening.

Lingling nodded and took a seat, her heart still fluttering from the rush of emotions the teaser had stirred. "Yeah... it’s everywhere.”

P’Mam leaned forward, her voice filled with excitement. “The feedback is incredible. People love it! I knew they would. You and Sonya look amazing together on screen.”

Lingling gave a small smile, grateful but hesitant. “I didn’t expect it to blow up like this. I was so scared when we filmed that scene—worried people wouldn’t accept anyone else.”

P’Mam reached across the table and squeezed Lingling’s hand. “You were brave to take that leap, and it shows. Everyone’s talking about your performance, not about who’s missing.”

Lingling’s gaze softened. “It’s... a relief. I didn’t think I’d feel this way.”

“That’s because you’ve worked hard—for yourself.” P’Mam’s tone grew gentle. “And Sonya—she’s been a wonderful partner for you. You two made something beautiful together, and people see that.”

Lingling nodded, exhaling slowly. “I owe her a lot. She made it easier... and I think, for the first time, I believe that moving on doesn’t mean forgetting.”

P’Mam smiled warmly. “Exactly.” She took a sip of her coffee, then added, “And Ling, this is just the beginning. You’re back—and stronger than ever.”

Lingling’s heart swelled at the words. For the first time, she felt proud—not just of the work she’d done, but of the steps she’d taken to heal. The teaser wasn’t just the start of a movie—it was the start of something new for her.

She met P’Mam’s gaze and smiled, the weight on her chest finally beginning to lift. "Thank you, P’Mam—for everything.”

P’Mam chuckled. “You can thank me by believing in yourself a little more.”

Lingling laughed softly. “I’ll try.”

Her attention drifted back to her phone as she scrolled through the flood of reactions from her fandom. P’Mam had been right—people were over the moon. The timeline was filled with praise, excitement, and endless posts of photos, videos, and GIFs of her and Sonya’s on-screen kiss—clips from the movie that was set to release at the end of the week.

But despite the outpouring of love, Lingling couldn’t help the pang of sadness that settled in her chest. She thought of Orm. She wondered if Orm had seen the clips, if she’d watched the teaser—or if she was purposely avoiding it altogether.

P’Mam noticed the shift in Lingling’s expression and gave her a knowing look.

“Thinking about her, huh?” P’Mam asked gently, a small but sympathetic smile on her face. She knew Orm had been Ling’s first love—maybe even her only love, if she were honest. But she’d never pushed Ling to open up about it.

Lingling hesitated, then nodded. “Yes...” Her voice was small, almost afraid of admitting the truth. “I don’t know how she’ll react to the movie. And—”

Before Lingling could spiral, P’Mam reached out and placed a hand over hers, cutting her off.

“Ling, stop doing this to yourself,” P’Mam said, her tone soft but firm. “You’re both actresses. It’s normal to have other screen partners. And more than that... you don’t have a relationship with her anymore.”

There was a quiet sadness in P’Mam’s voice. She had never fully understood what happened between them, but she had seen the aftermath—how shattered Lingling had been, how long it had taken her to piece herself back together.

Lingling swallowed hard and looked down at her phone again, the screen still aglow with reminders of the present—reminders of how far she’d come. But somewhere beneath it all, the past still lingered like an unfinished sentence.

“I know,” Lingling whispered. “I just... wish things had been different.”

P’Mam gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “We all do sometimes. But Ling... you’ve done everything you can to move forward. Don’t let the past pull you back now.”

Lingling took a steadying breath, letting the words sink in. Maybe it was time to stop looking for answers she’d never get—and start believing she could be okay without them.

Lingling slipped her phone back into her bag and stood as P’Mam grabbed her coat. “Ready?” P’Mam asked with an encouraging smile.

Lingling nodded, brushing aside her lingering thoughts. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

The late afternoon sky was a soft amber hue as they stepped outside and made their way to the building next to Ch3’s headquarters. The bustling streets of Bangkok moved around them in a blur, but Lingling’s mind was elsewhere.

Friday. The premiere for You Are Mine—her first major event since... everything. But what twisted like a knot in her chest wasn’t the excitement or the nerves about the film—it was the fact that Orm’s premiere was happening on the exact same night.

When they arrived at the sleek glass building, the receptionist directed them to the top-floor conference room. Lingling and P’Mam stepped inside to find Sonya seated casually, a water bottle in hand.

“Finally!” Sonya said with a grin, waving them over. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”

Next to her, Napat—Sonya’s impeccably dressed manager—stood and greeted them with a polite nod. “Ling, P’Mam—good to see you both.” His voice was smooth and professional as always. “Shall we get started?”

Lingling took a seat, trying to focus as Napat handed out the printed agendas.

“The film premiere is scheduled for this Friday at Icon Siam,” Napat began. “The red carpet opens at 6 p.m., and the press junket will start at 5 p.m. to give you both time to speak with reporters before the screening.”

Sonya leaned in with a smile. “The fans are going to show up in droves. It’s going to be huge.”

Lingling managed a small smile, but her chest felt tight. At the same time... across the city, Orm would be walking her own red carpet. The thought stung more than she wanted to admit.

“I hope I don’t trip on the carpet,” Lingling joked, forcing some lightness into her voice.

Sonya laughed. “If you do, I’ll catch you.”

P’Mam glanced at Lingling, her gaze soft with understanding, but she stayed quiet, knowing that Lingling needed to work through this on her own.

Napat cleared his throat, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

P’Mam scanned the agenda and asked, “What about security? With all the buzz around the teaser and the fan theories, I’m guessing the turnout will be intense.”

Napat nodded. “We’ve coordinated with the event team to have additional security. There’s also a designated area for fan interaction to keep things organized.”

Lingling tried to focus as they moved on to the press strategy and afterparty details, but her mind kept drifting. She imagined the flashing cameras, the questions from reporters—and Orm, standing across the city under the same blinding lights.

When the meeting wrapped up, Sonya stretched and grinned. “So... what’s the plan after this? Collapsing from exhaustion?”

Lingling chuckled, shaking off her thoughts for a moment. “That sounds tempting.”

P’Mam smiled as she gathered her things. “Rest up—you’re going to need it. Friday’s going to be a big night.”

Sonya gave Lingling a gentle nudge. “And you’re going to shine. Trust me.”

Lingling returned the smile, grateful for Sonya’s unwavering support. But as they left the room and stepped into the evening air, the weight of Friday pressed down again.

Two premieres. Two lives moving forward.

For so long, she had thought their stories would always be intertwined. But on Friday, they would stand in different places, surrounded by different people, and Lingling would have to face that reality head-on.

This wasn’t just a premiere—it was proof that they were living separate futures. And yet, despite everything, she couldn’t help wondering if Orm’s heart would ache just as much as hers when the cameras flashed.