WHILE THE WORLD ISN’T WATCHING

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CHAPTER 1: AIRPLANE MODE

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The Bangkok heat gave no quarter, not even at eight in the morning. The sun was already filtering through the blinds of Boom's apartment, painting golden stripes across the wooden floor. Even though they didn't live together, the left side of Boom's closet already had enough of Smart's things to consider him a part-time resident. Boom stood in front of the stove, barefoot and with messy hair, focused on not ruining breakfast. The sound of an egg frying in the pan was the only thing breaking the morning silence, until he heard footsteps dragging down the hallway. Smart appeared in the kitchen doorway, stretching with a lazy smile. He was wearing one of Boom's shirts, which looked a little tight and visibly short on the sleeves, making him look rather funny. Without saying a word, Smart picked up his phone from the table, connected the Bluetooth speaker, and put on a song with a soft, catchy rhythm. In a matter of seconds, the kitchen turned into their personal dance floor. Smart began to slide across the cramped space, keeping time with his shoulders and hips. With each movement, the fabric of the shirt stretched a little more, until he did a perfect spin that ended right next to Boom. —Smart —said Boom, turning around with the spatula in hand. As soon as he saw him, he let out a clean laugh and shook his head—. What are you even doing? Did you really put on that shirt? It's mine! It's too small for you, take it off. —What are you talking about? It fits me perfectly, it's a slim-fit style —Smart replied with total nonchalance, striking an exaggerated pose in front of the fridge—. Besides, it's your fault for leaving it within reach. You already know I like wearing your stuff. Does breakfast smell good, or am I distracting you with my great sense of style? Boom pushed him gently with his hip, trying to keep a straight face while the corners of his lips betrayed him with a small smile. —Go over there and take that shirt off before you rip it on me. If you keep jumping around me and distracting me, the food is going to burn and you're just going to have to eat plain toast. —I'm not touching you —Smart defended himself with a laugh, taking a step back to do a shoulder roll—. And it's not ripped, it's just... a bit snug. —Sure, sure. Sit down already, it's ready. Once at the kitchen counter, with the plates served and two steaming cups of coffee in front of them, the atmosphere grew quieter. Boom picked up his phone out of habit, seeing the cascade of Instagram notifications, messages from his manager, and tags from fans. He sighed, placing the phone face down. Smart noticed. He rested his chin on his hand and looked at him intently, with that soft expression he saved only for when there were no cameras around. —Eight days —Smart said suddenly. —What? —asked Boom, taking a sip of his coffee. —Our schedules. I checked it with my manager yesterday, and you don't have any recordings or in-person events either. We have eight days off, Boom. Boom looked at him, processing the information. It was rare for their schedules to align with so much blank space. Lately, when they were separated by work, time felt heavy, like a constant hum of anxiety that only turned off when they were back in the same room. —Are you proposing that we disappear? —Boom raised an eyebrow, though he was already reaching for the Airplane Mode button on his phone. —I'm proposing that nobody knows if we're in Bangkok, on Mars, or locked up right here. Just you and me —Smart smiled, picking up his own phone and turning the screen off completely—. Zero socials. Zero stories. Let the world miss us for eight days. Boom looked at his phone, then looked at Smart and his tight shirt. The idea of not having to say goodbye at the door that night, or the next, filled his chest with a sense of peace. He slid his finger across the screen, activated airplane mode, and left the phone on the kitchen table. —Fine —said Boom, with a knowing smile—. We're starting off on the right foot. Now eat your breakfast and go change before that poor shirt suffers any more, dancer.