Arthur stood outside the flat, marvelling at the Bangkok skyline as the city hummed with life around him. The neon lights reflected in his fatigued eyes, but his resolve remained unshaken.
It had been a week since Mia and Pim had told him the truth.
He had to find him.
Arthur had made a vow to himself: no matter how long it took, he wouldn't stop until he saw Nick again. Until he had the chance to stand in front of him and make him know that leaving had never been an option.
So, he started searching.
The first place he went was their former apartment—the one they had shared before everything broke apart.
Arthur understood it was a long shot. Nick was clever enough to avoid places related to their history, but a part of him hoped that maybe—just maybe—Nick had come back.
But when he arrived, the place was lifeless. The balcony where they used to sit late at night, whispering dreams to each other, now overlooked the city in stillness. The landlord, a middle-aged man who had always been fond of them, shook his head.
"He left months ago," the landlord stated. "Didn't say where he was going. Just packed up and left."
Arthur clenched his hands. No forwarding address. No hint of where he had gone.
One dead end didn't mean it was over.
Reaching Out to Old Friends
Next, he tried Nick's old buddies.
Most of them hadn't heard from him since he left. Some were truly astonished to learn that Arthur was seeking him; others exchanged nervous glances as if wondering whether to say something.
"Are you sure he wants to be found? One of them asked cautiously.
Arthur's jaw constricted. "Yes."
They told him nothing.
It was the same pattern everywhere. People either didn't know, or they didn't want to say.
Arthur wasn't naive—he recognized that some of them were safeguarding Nick's wishes. If Nick had told them to be silent, they would honour that. But what Nick wanted and what Nick needed were two different things.
And Arthur wasn't going to stop.
The Long Hunt Begins
Weeks stretched into months.
Arthur searched relentlessly, following every available lead.
He called Nick's parents, but their responses were unclear and uncertain.
"He's doing fine, Arthur," his mother had murmured over the phone, her tone carefully measured.
"Do you know where he is? Arthur asked, gripping the phone tightly.
A pause.
"I don't think it's my place to say."
Arthur repressed his irritation, realizing that he wasn't going to get any aid from them.
Instead, he tried other avenues. He investigated employment postings under Nick's name, reached out to former teachers, and even contacted others who had worked with Nick during internships.
Nothing.
He had evaporated as if he had never existed.
And still, Arthur refused to give up.
Every time tiredness crept in, every time he felt the weight of hopelessness push down on him, he reminded himself of one thing.
Nick had left not because he wanted to, but because he thought he had to.
Nick still loved him—Arthur understood that now.
And that meant there was still a chance.
Six months into the search, Arthur was running on fumes.
He sat at a small café along the Chao Phraya River, sipping a cup of coffee that had long gone cold. His phone rested on the table in front of him, another dead-end message looking back at him.
Someone had suggested meeting Nick in Singapore. Arthur had spent weeks chasing that lead, contacting individuals, and even considering flying there.
But it had turned out to be false.
The disappointment settled firmly in his chest.
For the first time, doubt crept in.
What if he doesn't want to be found?
Arthur had been so sure that Nick was only lost, that he just needed a cause to come back. But what if Nick had actually chosen to disappear?
What if Arthur was the only one clinging to the past?
The notion drove a stinging ache across his chest.
He sighed gently, rubbing his temples.
Pim and Mia had noticed the toll this was putting on him.
"You're exhausting yourself," Pim had whispered, eyeing him with troubled eyes. "You haven't been painting. You barely sleep."
"I'll rest when I find him," Arthur had whispered.
Mia frowned. "Arthur, what if he doesn't want to be found? "
Arthur had snapped then, fury swelling over.
"He does want to be found! He just—" He stopped himself, taking a shaky breath. "He just doesn't know how to come back."
Mia sighed. "You're assuming that. But what if… what if he's attempting to move on? "
Arthur's hands curled into fists.
"No. He's hiding because he thinks he doesn't deserve to come back." I know, Nick,
that was the difference.
And that was why Arthur couldn't stop.
One night, Arthur sat in his dimly lit apartment, looking through old images.
His phone buzzed. A message
Unknown Number: I don't know whether this signifies anything, but I saw someone who looks like Nick in Bangkok. Near the river, a little bookstore.
Arthur's heart pounded.
He bolted upright, grasping his jacket.
The rain had started by the time he reached the location, the streets shimmering under the city lights. He searched feverishly, checking bookstores and scrutinizing faces in the crowd.
But there was no indication of him.
Hours passed, and the rain-soaked through Arthur's clothes, but he didn't go. He stood there, staring at the empty street, frustration gnawing at his chest.
Had he been too late? Has Nick truly been here?
Or had it just been another false lead?
Arthur's hands trembled.
His chest ached.
For the first time in months, the scepticism felt overwhelming.
Was he following a ghost?
Was Nick really gone?
He wiped the rain from his face, but he wasn't sure if it was just water or the burn of tears.
Then, he inhaled sharply and steadied himself.
No.
Nick was out there.
And Arthur wasn't giving up.
Not yet. Not ever.
No matter how long it