Chapter Nine Chinda
“They’re so adorable,” Fon gushes.
I’m going to have bruises from the death grip she’s got on my hand, but I’m too distracted by what’s happening on stage to care at the moment.
I don’t think Pravat’s arm has left Rama’s waist the entire time they’ve been up there, and I’ve never seen Rama look so at ease in a crowd.
Every time they touch, the fans go wild, screaming so loudly I’m going to be deaf by the time the event’s over.
Several couples from the series stand with them on stage, but the chemistry between Rama and Pravat is what’s garnering the most attention.
Of course, they give fan service, doing things like lifting each other and whispering, eliciting cheers from the crowd.
But I can see there’s something special between them.
And Rama spent the night with Pravat. All night. I nearly combusted when I realized he hadn’t come home.
“Wouldn’t be the first time two leads fall in love,” Fon says close to my ear.
“My brother is straight,” I remind her as well as myself.
“Was straight,” Fon says with a smirk.
When the fan meet is over, I wait for Rama downstairs near the back entrance. He appears with Pravat and two bodyguards, looking tired and carrying a bag full of gifts and letters from fans.
“You did great, Kwang,” I say.
“Don’t call me that!” Rama snaps. He rarely raises his voice—he doesn’t have to. Like our father, a look from him can quell a person. Suddenly all eyes are on us.
“Sorry, I forgot,” I whisper. I don’t know what Rama has against the nickname given to him at birth, but he despises it. It means deer. Perhaps he feels it makes him sound weak.
Wrapping an arm around my shoulders, Rama says contritely, “Sorry, Nong Sao. I’m just really tired.”
I nod. When I look at Pravat, I notice he’s studying Rama.
In the backseat of the production company’s car, Rama pinches his nose between his fingers and sighs before leaning his head against the window and closing his eyes. Pravat raises his brow at me in question. I just shrug and shake my head. I stopped trying to figure out my brother long ago.
I’m excited to see a real bl love scene filmed. That excitement is only slightly lessened by the fact that my brother is playing in the scene. Still, I hope to forget that part and enjoy it anyway.
But the experience doesn’t turn out exactly as I imagined.
Although I’ve seen plenty of behind-the-scenes footage on the internet, I’m unprepared for how often the director micromanages Rama and Pravat’s movements.
He stops the scene so many times to adjust their positions, I want to scream.
I don’t know how Rama and Pravat manage to keep their focus.
Forget romance—by the time it’s over all I can think about is how sore Pravat’s arms must be from hovering over Rama on the bed and how one of the sound guys must have a crick in his neck from lying on the floor for hours holding a microphone out of sight of the camera.
When they finally take a break from filming, I have to laugh at the comical way Rama’s head flops back and he’s instantly asleep.
Pravat gives him an affectionate look before rolling over beside him and scrolling through his phone.
My eyes are heavy. Yawning, I wonder how much longer it’s going to be.
Judging by the way the crew members are chugging coffee, I don’t have hopes of it being anytime soon.
When Tida’s assistant walks by, I stop him and ask.
“I’m afraid it’ll be a couple more hours,” he tells me. “Why don’t I drive you home? Tida won’t mind.”
I take him up on it. If I don’t get some sleep, I won’t be ready for my afternoon classes tomorrow.
At home, I send some of the behind-the-scenes shots I took today to Fon and May for the website before turning out my light.
I’m not sure how much time goes by when I’m jerked awake by the sound of a crash in the living room.
Padding into the hallway, I peer around the corner to find Rama picking up one of the lamps from the floor.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
He jumps. “Fuck, Chinda, you scared me!”
He looks disheveled and absolutely dead on his feet.
I assist him in getting untangled from the cord that he’s somehow wrapped around himself, and, when he proceeds to trip over the rug, I take him firmly by the arm. “Let me help you to your room before you kill yourself.”
Once he’s sprawled on his bed, I sit down beside him.
“Did you enjoy filming the love scene?” I ask. The only reply I get is a growl, so I poke him in the side. “Rama. I assume it was a lot of hard work, and I can tell you’re exhausted, but can you throw me a bone, here?”
Sighing, Rama opens his eyes. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.
I mean, not the kissing—I don’t have a problem with that.
I was worried about being stiff and unnatural because of the cameras.
But, oddly enough, I kind of forgot about them when we were really into the scene.
” He yawns. “Sorry, I’m just really beat. ”
I get to my feet. “That’s okay. Goodnight.
” A little giddy to hear he got lost in his scene with Pravat, I return to my bedroom.
I have several notifications on my phone and prop myself on pillows before going through them.
Several photos of Preed Pra Saowaluk and his newest co-star are posted to the bl fan site since I last looked.
Reading the comments, I’m bothered by the caustic tone of some of them directed at Pravat, saying that Preed’s fortunate for having a better co-star this time around and speculating on whether my brother will be harassed in the same manner.
I reply to a few of them, defending Pravat, before tossing the phone on the floor and rolling over to sleep.