surrender

The restaurant was cozy, the soft lighting casting a golden glow as Ira strutted through the crowd to meet her new producer.

Ira was usually talkative, that is her charm, people liked that the most with Ira, she may have been bratty but can be professional if need be, but tonight, something shifted the moment she saw someone seated beside her new producer.

Tawan, her ex-bodyguard.

It had been two years since Tawan had abruptly resigned, disappearing from Ira’s life without explanation. And yet, here she was, casually chatting with Bam like she belonged in this environment, as if fate had decided to fuck her insides like the alcohol didn’t work already from the last night’s party. Her head began to throb by thinking about it and reminded herself not to invite her friends for a wild night right before an important meeting the day after. And also to stop herself from getting the fork on the table to just stab her bodyguard with it.

“2 years… no calls, no texts. Nothing at all. You Ta–Ira! This is not the time for goodness sake.” Ira cleared her thoughts, casually walked and hugged her new producer.

“You must be Bam. I am–“

“Ira, of course. The famous Ira. Nice to meet you. By the way this is…”

“Tawan.” Ira said.

Bam has been producer in the industry for a decade. She already knew what someone was thinking even before they speak. The subtle annoyance in Ira’s expression didn’t go unnoticed by her. She glanced between the two women.

“Oh, you’ve met already?” she asked, her tone curious but light.

“Yes,” Tawan cut in smoothly, her voice firm. Ira was about to say something, but Tawan, again, cut her off, “She’s a colleague.” she continued, leaving Ira with her lips parted and a faint furrow in her brow.

The words were clipped, intentional. Tawan’s sharp interruption annoyed the famous idol. But then Ira’s eyes flickered to Tawan, as much as she wanted to slap the face of that beautiful face, she could not help but still feel something every time that damn bodyguard opens her mouth.

Bam, sensing the tension, started discussing why they need to meet and tackled each agreements in the contract and other matters related to her upcoming album.

After an hour or so of discussion, Ira grew unusually quiet, her responses slow and distracted. It was Tawan who noticed first. The way Ira’s hand trembled when she reached for her drink. The faint flush rising to her cheeks. The sharp intake of breath.

And then it happened.

Ira swayed in her seat, her hand clutching her throat as her breathing turned labored. Tawan was out of her chair in an instant.

“Is there a berry in that?” she barked at the waiter, her voice sharp and commanding.

The waiter froze, eyes wide. “Y-yes, it’s part of the sauce—”

“She’s allergic to it!” Tawan snapped.

“Call an ambulance. NOW.”

The waiter bolted, and Tawan turned back to Ira, gently tilting her head up to keep her airway open.

“Ira,” Tawan said, her voice soft yet firm, “look at me. Breathe slow. One. Two. Three. That’s it. You’re with me.”

Ira’s eyes, wide and glassy, locked onto Tawan’s as she struggled to draw in air. Despite the panic in the room, Tawan remained steady.

Bam watched the scene unfold in stunned silence, her heart pounding. She had never seen Tawan—normally so detached and composed—looked this frantic.

Within minutes, the paramedics arrived, rushing in to assess Ira’s condition. Tawan stepped back just enough to let them work, but she stayed close, her hand brushing Ira’s as if unwilling to let go. As the paramedics loaded Ira onto the stretcher, she clung to Tawan’s gaze, her eyes filled with something unspoken. Even as the ambulance doors closed, she didn’t look away.

Bam stood frozen, watching the ambulance drive off.

“She’ll be okay,” Tawan said, her voice quieter now but still firm.

Bam turned to Tawan, her thoughts racing. She had known Tawan for two years, seen her calm in every emergency, unaffected by almost anything. But tonight, she saw something else—something raw and vulnerable in the way Tawan had reacted to Ira.

“You care about her,” Bam said, the realization settling heavily in her chest. Tawan stood quietly. Bam knew she wouldn’t get an answer anymore so she didn’t press any further. She simply nodded, though the truth lingered between them.

Tawan’s mask of nonchalance had cracked. And no matter how much she tried to deny it, her emotions were as clear as day. “Ira wasn’t just a colleague.” Bam thought as she cupped her girlfriend’s face and kissed her. “Let’s go home. I can just set up another meeting with her once she’s okay.”

“Okay. Let’s go home.” Tawan replied, though the hesitation in her voice betrayed her.