The sound of a lock clicking in place made Jade shiver in fear. He dug his fingers into the silky sheets and stared in horror at the smiling demon looming over him.

“There now,” crooned the saccharine voice. “That’s much better. You won’t be able to run off and get into trouble this time, kitten.”

Jade glanced at his ankle and then back at the demon. He was already walking away at a brisk pace, leaving Jade behind in his gilded prison.

“Wait!” he screamed, tugging desperately at the chain attached to his ankle. “Don't leave me here! I'll be good, I promise!!! I won't run again!! P’Tian!”

______

Jade opened his eyes in a panic. His heart was pounding, and despite the weight of sleep still clinging to his eyelids, his body felt tense and alert. Resisting the temptation to give into sleep again,  he stared into the darkness and forced his brain to focus. He was lying on a bed. The sheets were cotton, not silk, and they smelled like fragrant wood and citrus, not his preferred rose and vanilla. Except for the shallow, ragged breaths escaping his mouth, it was quiet: unnaturally quiet, like being underwater or wrapped in a thick blanket. He tried to sit up, but he realized he couldn’t move. Something heavy and solid was wrapped tightly around his waist.

Jade quickly shoved the thing away and scrambled to an upright position, blindly kicking the sheet and blanket away in the process. His back hit the headboard with a thud, and his right leg landed on something solid and warm. The thing let out a low groan, and Jade hastily withdrew his leg. Shit. Not something, someone.

It was a man, and Jade was in his bed. Is it him? No, can’t be. He doesn’t wear this scent. Cedar and Citrus, that’s someone else. Exhaling shakily, Jade brought his knees to his chest and tentatively reached down to check his ankle. To his great relief, instead of a leather cuff and metal chain, he felt only bare skin. After taking a few deeper but still shaky breaths, he got out of bed and started pacing around the room. See, Jade? You’re fine. You can still walk around freely. There's no chain. It was just another bad dream.

Gradually, his shitty memory began to kick in. The cheap carpet under his feet and the scent of acrylics and other chemicals was familiar. After  some mental prodding, in a flash of images, he knew exactly where he was. But knowing didn’t calm his nerves. He paced around the dark studio and took deep breaths, but they didn't help. His heart continued to race. His stomach was a knotted mess, and his hands continued to tremble. He stumbled toward the bathroom, but he couldn’t throw up. No matter what he did, the angry butterflies continued to swarm his body.

A cigarette, just one.

The idea disgusted him, but at this point, Jade was willing to try anything to calm his nerves and drive the memory of that taunting smile away. Cursing under his breath, he left the bathroom and snatched his phone from the charger. After locating the flashlight feature, he started digging though Yok's stuff. Eventually, he found a pack of cigarettes and a cheap plastic lighter hidden in the pocket of a pair of paint-splattered work jeans.

With an irritated sigh, Jade grabbed the smoking items and made a beeline for the door. On the way out, he tossed his phone on the table. If he’d been more awake, he would’ve noticed the display read 2:47. But Jade wasn’t thinking about the time. He just wanted to get outside, flood his system with nicotine, and stop feeling like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

Once outside, he shut the door, settled on the ground a few feet away, and withdrew a cigarette from the pack. He held the cigarette in place with his mouth, flicked the lighter, and used his left hand to shield the flame from the breeze. The awful taste made him want to throw up. Instead, he simply took a drawl, held it for a brief moment, and exhaled slowly, letting muscle memory take over.

Jade stared up at the night sky and willed his mind to go blank, occasionally taking a drag from the cigarette and absentmindedly picking at the bandage on his left palm. Slowly, his mind began to calm, and he could think clearly again. It was just a bad dream. As long as I don't seek him out, he won’t come after me. As long as I stay away from his territory, he won’t find me.

One cigarette turned into two. Because as much as he hated cigarettes, Jade hated their withdrawal symptoms even more. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't hear the door open and shut.

“Yok?”

Jade flinched. “Shit,” he hissed as the cigarette slipped out of his grasp and fell to the ground. Sighing in annoyance, he snuffed it out and tossed it with the first one. Once that was done, he inclined his head towards the man standing near the door. “P’Dan, what are you doing up so late?”

Dan walked over and sat next to him. “I could ask you the same thing.” His gaze drifted to the open pack of cigarettes and lighter. “Can’t sleep?”

Jade inhaled softly and withdrew a third cigarette from the pack. “Had a bad dream,” he replied, placing the cigarette between his lips and reaching for the lighter in front of him.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Jade scoffed and shook his head. No way in hell. He flicked the lighter, shielded the flame, and guided it towards the cigarette in his mouth. By now, the foul taste was becoming familiar. He took a drawl, held it a brief moment, and released the smoke into the night air. “No, I’d rather just forget it.”

It was quiet for a few minutes as Jade smoked his third and final cigarette. He decided three would be his limit no matter what. Despite the pain of having to deal with withdrawals, he refused to become a chainsmoker. Two in the family is enough.

While staring up at the night sky, Jade let his mind wander freely. He thought about his past, and the people he used to know. His thoughts quickly centered around the chestnut-haired man he once loved and worshiped: Tony Ma. Under the haze of the cigarette smoke, his memories became soft and dreamlike. He remembered the rainbow lights of the club where they met, the warmth and thrill of their first night together, and the luxury of chocolate and vanilla silk against his bare skin. But above all, Jade remembered the moment he got his name.

When he came to his senses, he was falling. He screamed in surprise. But before he could hit the floor, a strong arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him up again. Heart racing, he turned and met a pair of concerned brown eyes.

“Are you okay, Nong?”

He squinted at his rescuer and then grinned at the familiar face. "Ah! It’s you! We just keep running into each other. Don’t we, Phi?” he said, giggling as he clung onto the man's arms.

"That we do…Must be fate,” the handsome man replied, eyes sparkling. “Tell me, what's your name?"

Feeling a bit playful, he shook his head and folded his lips into a pout. “No, you first."

The man laughed and stroked his hair gently. “Okay, cutie. My name is Ma Tianyu, but friends call me either Tian or Tony.”

"Nice to meet you, P’Tian,” he replied, beaming at the man whose sports jacket he was currently hanging off of. P’Tian had such lovely eyes, and he smelled really good too.

"And whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”

Hmm…I don’t feel much like Akk right now. I feel more like a… He glanced around the club until his eyes caught on a statue of a fierce but elegant dragon carved out of light green stone. “Jade,” he replied, giving Tianyu a confident smile. “I’m Jade.”

“Jade,” Tianyu echoed, running his eyes over the newly-dubbed Jade’s face. “A lovely name for a lovely boy.” He leaned forward and whispered, “Well, Jade, since our paths have crossed again, would you be interested in keeping me company for the night? Mind if we go somewhere quieter? I'd love to get to know you better.”

Jade’s smile widened. He grabbed Tianyu’s cheeks and brought their lips together in a chaste kiss. A few seconds later, he pulled back and giggled at the surprised look on his new friend’s face. He’d never done anything like that before. He, Jade, felt tipsy with happiness, like he was floating on air. It felt so damn good. He never wanted it to end. Why did it have to? Heart racing, he leaned forward and whispered in the handsome man’s ear: "Okay, P'Tian, take me home with you."

Jade sighed as he remembered how stupid and gullible he used to be. One fateful meeting followed by two fucking years of mind games. Love at first sight, my ass. As he felt his anger begin to spike, Jade took another drag of his cigarette and forced his restless mind to focus on something else.

I should pay Hia a visit. If I go on a weekday, I’m less likely to run into Yok’s friends…Hia will be so surprised to see me…and happy.

He felt a tightness in his throat as he thought about seeing his Hia again. Ever since the night they met outside that bar, Gumpa’s garage had become his safe haven. No matter how many times Jade pushed him away or how much stupid shit he did, Hia always accepted him back. With a heavy sigh, Jade blew out a cloud of smoke, and his mind drifted off again.

He couldn't believe it. He'd finally bought his first set of makeup: an eyeshadow palette, blush, and lip tint. His heart was pounding the entire time he was in the drug store. The checkout lady thought he was buying a gift for his girlfriend, and Jade didn’t bother to correct her.

He knew he couldn't go home to try them out. At this time of day, Mom would still be home. It was too risky. He wasn’t ready for her to see him like this. So instead, he snuck into P’Gumpa’s garage and into the small bedroom Hia had made for him. Hia told him he’d be out doing errands, so Jade knew he’d be able slip in and slip out. No problem.

Eagerly, he set his bag down by the large mirror and sat on the floor in front of it. He paused as he looked at his reflection. Did he really want to do this? Then he looked at the bag of makeup, took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. Yeah, he did. He really did.

Jade ripped open the packaging and carefully applied the soft pink eyeshadow onto his eyelids. His hands trembled, and the makeup smudged everywhere, but it was just practice for now. Nobody would see him.

He applied the blush to his cheeks and put on the lip tint before admiring his reflection. “That’s better,” he murmured. “I look…pretty again.” The words sent a shiver down his spine. He gulped and closed his eyes before opening them again. His breath caught as he stared at his reflection. It was definitely an amateur job, but…he’d done it. He’d actually done it.

He released the breath he was holding and laughed as he pulled out a small makeup wipe to remove any smudges or smears.

“Jade?”

He flinched and whirled around to face the owner of the voice. It was none other than Gumpa. Shit. Jade had been so excited to try out his makeup that he’d completely forgotten to lock the damn door. Now Hia was standing in his room and staring at him in shock and confusion. It wouldn’t be long before that confusion turned to anger, and…oh shit, Hia was going to kill him.

“Hia!” Jade spoke in a rush as he tried to hide the makeup. “I-I thought you were still out!? It's not what it looks like! I swear!”

When Gumpa approached, Jade involuntarily shrank back. Hia wasn’t much taller than him, but he was older, stronger, and much better at fighting. He was a boss. Like P’Tian, he had connections. This garage was his territory, and Hia was a tough guy. He wouldn’t accept a sissy putting on makeup in his garage, especially someone he thought of as a little brother. Jade braced himself for an angry lecture, attack, or both.

But instead of yelling at him or hurting him, Gumpa joined him on the floor, gently took the wipe from Jade’s hand, and began cleaning up the smudges and smears. When he finished, he smiled at Jade, and his eyes were kind.

“You’re…not mad at me?” Jade asked in a voice close to a whisper. He could hardly believe what was happening.

Hia only shook his head and rested his hand on Jade’s shoulder. “No, of course not,” he replied, squeezing his shoulder gently. “You look nice.”

As the memory came to an end, Jade suddenly became aware of Dan watching him. “What is it, Phi?” he asked, keeping his gaze fixed on the sky and returning to his memories of Hia. I wonder if he’d be happy to see me, or would he rather have Yok, like everyone else? He might still hate me for trashing his garage.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about your nightmare?”

Jade sighed in annoyance and snuffed out what remained of his cigarette. “Positive.”

“Then is there anything I can get for you?”

“Nope.” Jade tossed the butt aside and turned to look at Dan, totally prepared to let him know how unwelcome his company was right now. But when their eyes met, his breath caught as he saw the depth of tenderness and concern in Dan’s face. Kind brown eyes implored him to draw close and accept the care and support of the person in front of him. Looking into those eyes, Jade felt fragile, like a ceramic figurine balanced on the edge of a shelf. One wrong move, and he might just break. Vulnerable. Weak. Pathetic… Nope, not going there. He took a deep breath, thought for a moment, and decided to take the subtler approach than simply asking Dan to fuck off: “Gum, I guess, extra minty. I’ve heard it can help with quitting.”

Dan grinned. His relief and joy were obvious. Jade’s stomach twisted in discomfort and with something else, something he refused to name. “Okay,” Dan declared, “I’ll see if the convenience store is still open.”

“Great.” Jade returned the warm grin with a tiny polite smile. “Thanks, P’Dan.”

Dan’s lips twitched, and his grin became a look of unbearable, stomach-in-knots fondness. “No problem, Yok. Anything I can do to help, anything, just name it.” After saying this, Dan leaned over and gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek. Before Jade had a chance to react, Dan had already stood up, turned around, and gone back inside.

Jade stared at the closed door in a daze, absently touching the part of the cheek where Dan’s lips had been. As soon as he was aware of his action, he immediately gave said cheek a solid slap. Don’t get attached. That’s Yok’s boyfriend, dumbass. He doesn’t give a shit about you. Jade sighed heavily and leaned against the wall. Don’t get attached. Don’t get attached. Don’t get attached.

——-

Ayan groaned and rolled over to turn off his alarm. Squinting at the bright screen, he saw it was 7:05. Barely two hours of sleep, great. He sat up and rubbed his face with his hands. His whole body felt like crap. A few measly hours of sleep hadn’t changed that. He’d probably feel less crappy if he’d gotten a full six to eight, but after a day like this, Ayan wasn’t sure if getting a decent amount of sleep was even possible. The memory of that painful and awkward conversation with Yok still weighed heavily on his mind, and how could Ayan possibly sleep when he knew something was wrong with Yok?

Besides, it’s not like he hadn’t tried. Somewhere around 3 am, he’d tried to shift his mindset away from worrying and problem-solving towards letting go and sleeping. He put aside the notebook, turned off the light, and put in his trusty earbuds. After that, he queued a playlist of calming instrumentals, pressed play, and settled in to sleep. But the soft guitar music hadn’t helped his mind settle. Instead, it only reminded him of Dan and Nong and the time they spent in the music room together.

He recalled Nong’s bright smiles, warm hugs, and childish energy. Then he thought about the apology gift Nong had drawn for him — birds in flight, mirroring Yok’s tattoos — and how eager Nong was to be forgiven and loved by him. Nong was a sweet child, so full of life, and Ayan had only met him twice before he was gone. The only proof Nong existed was in the drawings he left behind: the gift of birds carefully tucked away in Ayan’s keepsake box and the handful of crayon drawings sent to him by LINE. Ayan knew his time with Nong would end when adult Yok returned, but he still wasn’t prepared for the loss he’d feel when the inevitable switch finally happened. At least I had the chance to say goodbye…this time.

Ayan sighed and flopped backwards on the bed, resting his head on the pillow again. He’d miss Sunflower, sure, but he was truly happy Yok was back. He’d missed his Bigfoot, and he was dying to see Yok again and catch up on everything that happened while he was away. This was his state of excitement on Saturday morning when he first saw the message from Dan announcing Yok’s return. But sometime between the announcement of Yok’s return and Ayan’s conversation with the man himself (proving that he hadn't run away again to start a new life in a new city), the excitement and optimism Ayan felt regarding their reunion had drained considerably. And despite his best efforts to turn things around, their phone call felt stilted and strained from beginning to end. No matter how many times he tried to lower Yok’s defenses, his boyfriend remained guarded, reluctant, and distant.

Like talking to me was a burden, and he was only there because he hadn't thought of a good enough excuse to hang up yet…Or maybe he isn’t Yok after all. Or maybe he is Yok, but he’s still angry about our fight. But why would he be angry about a fight he doesn’t remember? Unless he was just so angry that he lied about what he did and didn’t remember to avoid talking about it. Or maybe he isn’t Yok, and the personality I fought with two weeks ago is the one I talked to last night, and he, Jade, is holding a grudge. What the hell is his problem with me anyway? Unless he’s Yok, and I’m making things more complicated for myself. But Sunflower said I fought with Jade, not Yok, so what if Yok really can’t remember anything, but he still has Jade’s residual anger somehow? Is that even possible? Damn, this is exhausting. 

Ayan groaned and stared up at the ceiling. Just thinking about that baffling and painful conversation left him feeling surly, restless, and just drained. Is there even a point in getting up today? Although he couldn’t think of a good reason to do so, he reluctantly sat up and dragged himself out of bed. He pulled on the first pair of shorts and a shirt he found, dropped his phone in his pocket, and made his way downstairs, not bothering to try and tidy his appearance. He slowly descended the stairs and walked to the kitchen.

“Aye, do you want some coffee?” his mom asked as her eyes swept over his tired and disheveled appearance.

“Yeah, that'd be nice,” he replied, going to get a mug from the cabinet.

Before he could reach it, his mom blocked his path, set a plate of food in his hands, and redirected him towards the table. “Here, Aye, sit and eat while I make you your coffee. I’m sure you’ll feel much better once you have some food in you.”

Ayan didn't have it in him to argue, so he sat down and began picking at his food. On any other day, the breakfast would’ve looked and smelled delicious: buttery eggs cooked with equal servings of chopped spinach, bell peppers, and mushrooms. But today he could hardly stand the smell because of how nauseous he felt. So instead of eating, he tasked himself with dividing the eggs and veggies into two separate piles.

Redirect your anxious energy was something his treatment team liked to tell him time and time again, but Ayan still hadn't found a reliable activity or set of activities to redirect his anxiety. Instead, he maintained a short list of tasks. Depending on the day, each activity yielded low to moderate amounts of relief. Friday, it was cleaning the house. Saturday, it was alphabetizing their collection of DVDs and magazines, and today, it was deconstructing his omelet into piles of egg and veggie.

He was nearly done with his food classification when his mom returned with the promised cup of coffee. As soon as the mug was in front of him, Ayan grabbed it and downed half the contents in one go. The hot coffee was a welcome jolt to his taste buds. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Hard night?”

Ayan glanced at her and frowned. There’s that face again. He knew he shouldn’t have been surprised to see her worried expression, but still it left him with a stinging feeling. “Yeah, I couldn't sleep,” he muttered.

She placed her hand over his. ”Do you want to talk about it?” she asked softly. “Was it nightmares again?”

Ayan swallowed hard at the mention of nightmares. In the days following his uncle’s death, he’d developed severe nightmares which left him a screaming, sobbing mess. After Akk’s disappearance, the same thing happened. The nightmares were chronic, and the ending was always the same. They began with Ayan desperately chasing a figure through the tall grass. Sometimes it was Uncle Di, and sometimes it was Akk. The figure, dressed in white, was always far away but never out of sight. No matter how exhausted he felt, Ayan would continue to chase until they arrived at a familiar place. There, he’d find Uncle Di or Akk, his white shirt billowing in the wind, standing on the edge of the cliff. Then, before Ayan could stop him, the figure would disappear over the edge, leaving him to be overcome by unrelenting waves of shock, sadness, rage, and despair. The nightmare always ended with him screaming and sobbing as he clutched Uncle Di’s necklace (or Akk’s blazer) close to his heart.

After that, Ayan would wake up: face drenched in tears, heart pounding, lungs heaving, and throat sore from screaming. Sometimes his mom or one of his friends, whoever was tasked with watching him that night, would be at his bedside. Sometimes it'd just be him and a dark, empty room. Whatever the case, despite who was there and wasn’t, the experience was the same: the same dream with the same ending played out repeatedly, an endless torture crafted by a grieving and guilt-ridden mind.

“Aye?”

Pulling himself from his thoughts, Ayan laughed humorlessly. “No nightmares, Mom, just thoughts. You would've heard me if it was a nightmare.“

She frowned. “Thoughts about Yok?”

Ayan pressed his lips together and averted his eyes. He picked up his fork and resumed sorting his food. He didn't want to talk, especially not about Yok. He didn’t want to share his theories about Yok with his mom or anyone else. If he said them aloud, they’d feel real, too real. But although he didn’t want to speak, he felt the words burning in his throat anyway, demanding to be said.

Either Yok is back, and he’s holding a grudge, or Yok never came back, and one of the others is posing as him. Sunflower said there were five, so if he’s not Yok or Sunflower, that leaves three: Jade, Curse, and… Akk. One of them hates my guts.

“Aye…”

“Hm?”

“Is everything okay with you and Yok?”

Ayan shrugged and continued sorting his food as if her question didn’t feel like a shard of ice piercing his mind and heart. “What do you mean, Mom?”

“The walls aren’t that thick, Aye. I heard you talking to him last night.”

Ayan didn’t have to look at her to know she was smiling at him sadly. He could hear it in her voice. It was a look he’d become painfully familiar with, first with Uncle Di and now him. He set down his fork and rolled his eyes. “Of course you did.”

She sighed. “I also know when something’s bothering you, son. Tell Mom what’s going on. Did you and Yok fight again?” She squeezed his hand gently, clearly trying to reassure and encourage him.

But instead of being a comfort, her grip felt like a vice, equaling the one wrapped tightly around his heart. Ayan took a deep breath and exhaled shakily. “I don't want to talk about it, Mom,” he said, voice low and heavy with emotion. “Please just let it go, alright?”

She inhaled sharply and there was a long pause. Then she cleared her throat and said, “Okay, honey, I understand. Just know that…when you’re ready to talk, I'll be here to listen. And if not me, you can always talk to your friends or therapist. Just tell someone, Aye… Don't keep this locked up inside.” She slowly let go of his hand and took a sip of her coffee.

Ayan’s stomach twisted uncomfortably. He was torn between keeping things to himself and telling his mom what was going on. After taking a swig of coffee, he made his choice. He raised his head and said, “Mom?”

“Hm?” Her reply was tentatively hopeful.

“Do you remember how P’Dan and I told you about Yok’s disorder and how he has multiple personalities?

She nodded and a gentle smile played on her lips. “I remember. You introduced me to N’Sunflower and explained how that child exists as a personality separate from the Yok I met before.” Chuckling softly, she added, “I was so shocked when he squealed ‘Auntie’ and hugged me outright. But thinking back on it, that’s just the sort of thing a child would do. He’s a sweet boy.”

Ayan couldn’t help smiling at the memories of Nong. “Yeah, he is.”

His mom smiled back, then her smile became a frown. “Did you and that child have a fight?”

“Huh?” Ayan shook his head. “No, it wasn’t Sunflower. The one I talked to yesterday…I’m pretty sure it was Yok.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, wow. How did that go?”

“Not great.” Ayan grimaced. “He…he seemed mad. Before he left, we got into an ugly fight. Then he and Nong switched places. Although Nong and I were able to make up, Yok…I think he’s still holding a grudge. He told me he doesn’t remember the fight, but I’m pretty sure he does. Actually, given the whole multiple personalities thing, I’m not even sure it was Yok I talked to yesterday. I mean he said he was Yok, but…I don’t know, Mom. Something about him was off. I can’t put my finger on it, but he was different somehow. All last night, I kept replaying our conversation and trying to figure out where it went wrong. But for the life of me, I…I just don’t know.”

His mom looked thoughtful for a moment then took a sip of her coffee. “You know,” she said, after lowering the mug, “for any kind of relationship to work, you need to communicate what you feel with the other person. Otherwise, it’s far too easy to misunderstand each other and be hurt. Did you try letting Yok, or whoever this one is, know how you felt?”

Ayan scoffed. "I tried, but he just brushed it off and said we should forget about it.”

“I see…That does sound like someone holding a grudge.” She wrinkled her brow in thought. “During your time together before, did Yok tell you about his disorder?”

Ayan shook his head. “No, I only found out after he left. His Hia told me and P’Dan about it when I met Sunflower for the first time.”

“Was that the same day you snuck out of the house and took the car without permission?”

Ayan swallowed uncomfortably. “Yeah, same day.”

She pressed her lips together and looked like she wanted to say something but instead muttered “I see,” and took a bite of her food. After swallowing she continued with “Did you sneak out to meet them? Is that where you were all day?”

Ayan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “…Not exactly. I had a bad nightmare and just left to get some fresh air. Then I ran into P’Dan while I was out…one thing led to another, and I decided to join him at the Garage for lunch. I stayed out much longer than I planned to. Sorry.”

His mom smiled softly. “You don’t need to apologize again, Aye…” Then she cleared her throat. “Back to Yok though, you said you found out because his Hia told you?” She looked confused. “I didn’t know Ak—Yok had an older brother. I thought it was just him and his sister. How old is this Hia? Was he at the funeral?”

Shit. “Uh, well, no. They’re not blood-related. Yok’s Hia is just... somebody who took Yok in and cared for him, and you know, kept him out of trouble. He owns a garage that Yok and his friends frequent. That’s where I met him…He’s a good guy, Mom. Maybe one day I’ll have the chance to introduce you guys."

Sorry, Mom. I know you miss your cousin, but things are complicated enough already. I promise, when I get things with Yok figured out, I’ll make sure you guys meet.

Unaware of how close she came to stumbling across Ayan’s secret, his mom smiled warmly. “Ah, well, I’m glad Yok has someone like that looking for him and his friends…Wait, did this Hia tell you about Yok’s disorder without his knowledge?”

Ayan frowned. "Yok signed a medical release thing, so his Hia can talk about it and show his records if need be. Given how secretive Yok is and how uncertain and crazy things used to be with Yok mentally checking out and regressing to a child, it seemed like the only way to understand what the fuck was going on. He didn’t want to, but he made an exception because of how serious things were.”

“And how did Yok take it when he found out you knew?”

“He didn't take it well. He was pissed that his Hia went behind his back and told P'Dan and I about it. Apparently, he never meant to tell anyone which I think is completely ridiculous because something like that is impossible to keep hidden for long.”

“Perhaps, but that would also explain why he’s so angry. Imagine how difficult it is to come back and find out everyone knows one of your deepest secrets, especially a secret you never meant to tell anyone.”

Ayan thought it over then sighed in frustration. Being a person capable of empathy was such an annoyance sometimes, especially when he’d rather blame someone else for his shitty feelings. “I’d feel awful,” he admitted. “Pissed that it got outed without my consent, embarrassed, and completely overwhelmed. Okay, fine. Fine,” he said grumpily. “I see your point. Yok has a right to feel pissed and want to take it out on someone.” Someone he cares about and feels safe enough to lose his shit with.

His mom put her hand on his shoulder. “Can I give you a suggestion, Aye?”

Ayan nodded reluctantly.

“While I don’t know what it’s like to be in your shoes, honey, but I know what it’s like to love someone that keeps pushing you away,” she said with that familiar sad smile. “My advice is give Yok space. Let him readjust to how things are now and instead of worrying about him, spend that time working on your own things. It’s okay to take a step back. Re-evaluate . Find the things you can change and figure out what you can do to make that change happen. It’s okay to put yourself first sometimes, Aye.”

Ayan wrinkled his nose. “You sound like my therapist.”

His mom laughed. “Is that a good thing?”

Ayan smiled a bit. “Depends on the day.” He finished off his coffee and took a bite of veggies. As he did, he thought about his mom’s advice regarding the situation with Yok.

Maybe the real issue isn’t getting Yok to open up to me; it’s finding the context to understand him better. I don't need Yok to open up to me about his disorder and past. Whether he decides to or not, I can still love and accept him as he is. And learning more about OSDD will help me love him better.

“I think I need to find more information on OSDD,” Ayan declared.

“Sounds like a plan,” his mom replied. Her face reflected something he hadn’t seen in a long time: pride. She was proud of him. “And maybe you could include Khan or Wat in your research. They were Yok's close friends, right?”

Ayan nodded and thought it over carefully. “Yeah…good point. I'll see if they can come over.” Now that he had an action plan, he was starting to get excited. Research was something he enjoyed, and research that could crack upon the mystery plaguing him for days? He couldn’t wait to get started. He went to leave the table, but his mom immediately sat him back down.

“That can wait until you finish eating. I'm glad you are willing to learn new things to help your boyfriend, but you can't help him if you don't help yourself.”

“Yes, Mom,” Ayan muttered with a sigh and began to eat. The food was room temperature now but still edible. It probably helped that he didn’t feel like throwing up anymore.

She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “That’s my boy.”
_____

Several hours, a hot shower, and a hefty research session later, Ayan sat at the table with his notebook and phone while Khan and Wat made lunch. He hadn't wanted to invite them over at first. They still were in the dark about Yok's disorder. Because of their history with “Sunshine” (a nickname for Nong that Ayan found adorable), they knew about Yok’s habit of regressing under intense stress, but that was it.

Ayan didn’t feel great about revealing Yok’s disorder to his friends without his permission. But after diving into the research on OSDD, he was dying to share what he learned with his friends and hear their history with Yok’s different personalities, especially Nong and Curse of Suppalo. Not that Ayan was thrilled to spend an afternoon reliving Suppalo memories, but maybe it wouldn’t be as painful to hear if he focused the conversation on events that took place before his time there. Before Akk hit his breaking point.

So Ayan pushed aside his worries and made the call. Barely an hour later, Khan and Wat were standing in his doorway with bright grins and a bag of sodas and movie snacks. Ayan hadn’t told them the true reason he invited them over, only that he wanted to hang out.

In no time at all, the sodas were in the fridge, the snacks on the counter, and a pizza was in the oven. The kitchen was full of light-hearted chatter, as his friends cheerfully updated him on what was going on with their jobs, boyfriends, family, and life in general since they last talked. Like always, Ayan pushed aside the faint envy and discomfort he felt while hearing about their much fuller and seemingly happier lives and did his best to chime in every so often, like a good friend would. Today had turned out to be relatively a good day, so it wasn’t that difficult for him to participate. Still, the fact that his brain was chock-full of facts about Other Specified Dissociative Disorder made it somewhat hard to focus on the specifics of what his friends were saying. His attention kept drifting in and out.

Eventually, the timer for the pizza went off, and the conversation was put on hold as Khan went to retrieve it from the oven. Ayan got out the plates and utensils, and Wat mixed up a serving size bowl of salad and placed it on the table. After Khan returned with the pizza, they assembled their plates and began to eat. Just then, Wat suddenly changed the topic.

“So, Aye, I heard you met Sunshine.”

After overcoming his initial surprise, Ayan replied, “Yeah…twice actually, he’s a sweet kid. He and P’Dan came over to visit two days ago. Nong spent the first part napping. Then I showed them the music room, and we spent the rest of the afternoon playing games.” Ayan couldn’t help grinning a little when he remembered the paper crown Nong made for him. All hail, King Aye, Master of Games.

Wat grinned. “I’m sure he loved that. Sunshine always got excited when Khan brought out the guitar.”

“Not to mention the lollipops,” Khan added. “Can’t forget the lollipops… and crayons, definitely crayons.” He snorted. “Hey, do you remember when he borrowed your Biology notebook?”

Wat groaned. “Two weeks of notes, absolutely useless. He said it would look better in color.”

Khan snickered. “Remind me again, how the hell did you explain that colorful mess to Teacher Rasamee?”

Wat shrugged. “Told her my baby cousin came to visit and mistook my Biology notes for a coloring book.”

The two ex-prefects exchanged a knowing look and immediately burst out laughing. Their laughter was contagious, and Ayan couldn’t help joining in. When the laughter finally ceased, Ayan glanced over at his notebook and cleared his throat. This was as good an opening as any. “Was regressing to Sunshine a common occurrence back then?”

“Yeah, after big tests or meetings with Chadok, Akk—Yok would regress to a little child.” Wat took a bite of pizza and chewed thoughtfully. “It was a major shock at first. We had just barely become friends, and a few weeks later, there was a major exam. Yok had clearly been spending all his time studying. Hardly slept or ate. Anyways, after the test, the school allowed us to go home early, but the three of us already had plans to hang out; so as soon as it was over, Khan and I followed Yok to his dorm room.”

Wat sighed and sipped his soda. “Yok was unusually quiet. When we finally got there, he was staring at us with wide eyes, innocent and anxious. He didn’t say a word until we were inside. As soon as he was in the safety of his dorm, he broke down crying… I'll never forget how he apologized to us. ‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry, friends. Don't leave Akk! I didn't mean to! Please don’t be angry.’”

Khan sighed heavily. “We must’ve spent at least an hour comforting him. When Yok finally calmed down, he sat on the floor and started playing with his hands and drawing invisible shapes on the floor. Then Ai’Wat gave him some markers and a piece of paper, and the next thing we knew, he was drawing silly pictures.”

“It was like his brain was replaced with a kindergartner’s,” Wat added. “After that, we learned to keep a stash of art supplies, lollipops, and kiddie games around during exam season. I still can’t believe Akk was able to maintain his grades despite everything. Maybe the pressure to keep his scholarship and be the best Suppalo prefect he could be was enough to keep him from falling behind. Then senior year hit, and things started changing: P’Mes graduated; Akk became Head Prefect; The World Remembers began protesting: Teacher Dika left; and Akk began meeting with Chadok more and more. In the midst of all this, Sunshine visits became increasingly sporadic, and eventually, the kid just stopped showing up. Actually, come to think of it, that was right about the time you transferred in.”

“So right about when he started acting as Suppalo’s Curse?” Ayan mused aloud. “Or I guess it wasn't acting..."

Khan and Wat both looked uncomfortable at the casual mention of Akk’s actions as the Curse. They exchanged a series of glances, as if having a silent argument. Eventually, Khan sighed heavily and broke the silence.

“Yeah, maybe,” he agreed. “But we also suspect you might have had something to do with it.”

“Me? Why me?” Ayan’s heart twisted uncomfortably. He was pretty sure he knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from them anyway.

“Well,” Wat said thoughtfully. “Back then, Akk was obsessed with uncovering your evil master plan to sabotage Suppalo and, you know, obsessed with you in general. You guys also spent a lot of time together, so maybe spending time with you somehow discouraged him from regressing. Or maybe his actions as the Curse and the guilt he felt because of that made him less likely to let down his guard with us as Sunshine…I guess we’ll never know.” He sighed and took a large bite of salad.

“Yeah,” Khan said quietly. “It’s like after changing his name, everything Akk-related became off limits. And honestly, I’m not sure he even remembers being Sunshine. It’s like his age-regression came with built-in amnesia to spare him the embarrassment.”

Tell them. They deserve to know.

“Actually,” Ayan said, “I learned something about Yok that explains why he does that…It's a little complicated though.” Sorry, Yok.

Now all eyes were on him. Khan had a knowing look on his face; he surely figured it out by now. Ayan took that as his cue to continue explaining.

“Yok has this disorder… OSDD. I've been looking stuff up on it, so I can show you my notes. But he… he has multiple personalities.”

Khan sighed and muttered. “Shit, well, that explains a lot.”

Wat, in contrast, cycled through expressions of shock, bewilderment, and then deep reflection. “I’m not familiar with OSDD,” he said after a long pause, “but I do know a little about multiple personalities and split personalities. Those mental disorders show up often in psychological films and dramas. There's M. Night Shyamalan’s film Split and Golf Tanwarin’s series Payak Rai Sai Lub, to name a few. But, outside of seeing it in film, I don’t know much about it. However, in films, it usually has to do with seriously repressed trauma and a fractured sense of identity.” He frowned deeply. “Can I see your notes, Aye?”

Ayan nodded and handed over his notebook. Wat wiped his hands with a napkin, cleared his plate away, and placed the notebook in front him. After taking a deep breath, Wat opened the notebook and flipped until he found a page labeled “Facts About OSDD”. As Wat began to read, Ayan watched his friend’s expression change to show a number of feelings, including surprise, confusion, sadness, and acceptance. Eventually, Khan scooted his chair closer to Wat and started reading over his shoulder. Soon, his face was reflecting the same dynamic parade of emotions as Wat. This is what they read:

^^^^^^^^^
FACTS ABOUT OSDD
Other Specified Dissociative Disorder

OSDD is in the category of dissociative disorders. Although it’s similar to the better known Dissociative Identity Disorder (DiD), formerly known as Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD), OSDD is considered independent.

Dissociative disorders involve problems with memory, identity, emotion, perception, behavior and sense of self. (as defined by American Psychiatric Association)

There are two types of OSDD:
_ OSDD-1a
_ OSDD-1b

(Which one is Yok?)

Some individuals with OSDD-1 lack both amnesia and highly distinct parts, and other individuals with OSDD-1 have highly distinct parts but rarely or never switch between them. These latter cases are also sometimes described as OSDD-1b. They may or may not have dissociative amnesia for aspects of their trauma history, and they may occasionally experience episodes of amnesia due to extreme stress or reminders of trauma.

An individual with OSDD-1b has a subjectively continuous memory; different alters do not have different versions of their history for daily life because all relevant information is accessible to all alters.

These symptom clusters are
A) general dissociative symptoms defined as
-memory problems
-depersonalization
-derealization
-post traumatic flashbacks
-somatoform symptoms
or trance states;

B) partial dissociative intrusions, which describes internal interactions or overlap between dissociative self states and which can manifest as passive influence, hearing alter voices, or self alteration

C) full dissociative intrusions, which describes switching between dissociated parts of the self with associated amnesia.

Individuals with OSDD-1 may meet only two of the clusters. Of these, meeting criteria A and B is most common.

(Based on the above, Yok is OSDD-1b.)

^^^^^^^^^

Once he finished reading, Wat closed the notebook and said, “Yok having this disorder makes a lot of sense. It explains all of his forgetfulness. He was always good at remembering the things he had to do as prefect. Hell, it was practically ingrained in his mind, but things like specific people, dates, and day to day things he always had trouble with. He could generally remember what he did, like a rough outline of the day, but the specifics were never there. Like he could tell you he ate lunch, but not what he ate.” Wat shook his head. “How did you find out, Aye? Did someone tell you about this, or did you figure it out yourself?”

Ayan shook his head. “P’Gumpa told me the day I met Nong, uh, Sunshine at the Garage the first time. Phi is like Yok’s big brother, and four years ago, Yok got a psych evaluation done, and his OSDD was diagnosed.” Along with a bunch of other disorders and addictions. “Yok’s legal name is Jirasak Boonyawatana now, fyi. Don't know when or how he got it changed, but that’s the name on his psych evaluation.”

Wat’s eyes widened. “So that’s also the name his university would have on file. No wonder when we asked around, there was no connection between the guy we saw in the news footage and the name Akk Pipiphattana.”

“Yeah,” Ayan replied softly. “That’s why.”

“Damn…if we had only looked closer,” Wat muttered, looking sad and guilty. “ Shit, Aye. I’m sorry. I—”

Ayan held up his hand to prevent Wat from continuing his apology. “Forget it. I didn’t tell you guys because I wanted an apology. I told you because as his friends you deserve to know what’s going on…” Feeling a fresh wave of jitters, Ayan grabbed his pencil and started to fidget with it. “Speculating about what-ifs is pointless. I know you guys were only trying to look out for me.”

“Aye…”

Ayan waved their concern away. “I’m fine. But we’re getting off track. This is about Yok, not me. The past is the past…” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair as he pushed the restless energy away and tried to gather his thoughts. “Here are the facts: Yok has OSDD, and Nong, the child personality you call Sunshine, is one of his alters. Under heavy stress, the two of them switch, and Yok starts acting, thinking, and talking like a kid. Meanwhile, the adult personality we know as Yok continues to exist in the background until they switch back. Does that make sense?”

His friends exchanged a glance and then nodded.

“Yeah,” Khan replied, “in a crazy way it does. But I still don’t get it. Why Yok? I know things were hella rough for him before he joined the prefects and even shittier after P’Mes left, but is that enough to cause…well, this?”

“Yes and no,” Ayan said. “According to the research, OSDD is often caused by severe, long-term trauma experienced in childhood…” He took a deep breath and tried not to think too hard about what that meant for his boyfriend. “So most likely, something bad happened to Akk when he was a kid and caused his personality to develop into this system of alters instead of something cohesive. Then he went to Suppalo, and that hellhole aggravated his symptoms to the point that his alters got strong enough to take control from him. Hence, Sunshine.”

“Hold on,” Wat said with a frown. “You said alters, plural. Does that mean there's more than just Yok and Sunshine? How many more are there?”

Ayan sighed heavily. “I’m not sure exactly, but as far as I know, there’s five.”

“FIVE?!” Khan and Wat exclaimed in unison.

“Yeah, five. That’s if we count Akk and Yok as separate personalities. Which, given what we know now,” Ayan mused, “is probably for the best.” He counted on his fingers as he spoke. “There’s Akk, Yok - the current host, Nong - the kid, Curse - the Suppalo fanatic who did Chadok’s dirty work, and finally, Jade - the one in charge before Yok. According to P’Gumpa, Jade is the one the report technically belongs to.”

“Damn,” Khan muttered.

“Yeah, I know it’s a lot.”

Khan snorted. “That’s an understatement. So let me get this straight: Yok has five different personalities running around in his head, like a damn soccer game, and they take turns being in control. Whoever gets the ball becomes Yok, or the guy we think of as Yok, and does whatever the hell he wants until he passes it off to the next one or someone else comes along and steals the ball from him. Is that it?”

Ayan grimaced. “It’s much more complicated and organized than that, but yeah, more or less.”

Khan made a face. “That’s…Hell, I don't even know what to say. I just…I can’t believe that stubborn idiot would try to hide something this big from us. We’re his friends, damn it. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

Ayan inhaled sharply. “It’s not that easy to admit when something’s wrong with you. I mean none of you knew how suicidal I was until...that day at the cliff. Hell, I didn’t want anyone to know how bad things were. I put on a good face for my mom and Akk and everyone until…” Ayan smiled sadly. “I just couldn’t do it anymore, just like Uncle Di. The only difference between me and him is that someone pulled me away from the edge…My uncle wasn’t as lucky…Mental disorders aren't something you just talk about. It takes a shitload of courage to open up and admit when it’s more than just a bad day or bad week. And even when you do, you also have to deal with the fallout.” The worried looks, the walking on eggshells, and the realization that your worst enemy is your own fucked-up mind. “As pissed as I am that Akk—Yok, that stubborn boyfriend of mine hid something this massive. I think, if I was in his shoes, I’d probably have done the same thing.”

"Aye’s right,” Wat declared. “Despite how much it sucks to be left in the dark, we can't expect Yok to tell us about something like this. I mean, you said this disorder develops from childhood trauma, right?”

Wat waited for Ayan to nod before continuing. “Yok probably thought that not talking about his disorder would be enough to make him forget what happened to him. He likely has a load of shitty memories he doesn’t want to acknowledge and would rather keep buried. Hell, given his habit of keeping everything to himself, it would be more surprising if he did tell us.”

“And considering how OSDD affects memory,” Ayan mused. “I wonder if he even knew what was going on with him before it was diagnosed.”

Khan made a series of faces, then huffed, “Yeah, but regardless of what he knew then, he knows now. Just thinking about it makes me want to give that secretive dumbass a piece of my mind and maybe a solid punch to the face.”

Wat rolled his eyes and gave Khan a slap on the head. “Ow,” Khan whined and rubbed the back of his head with an irritated look. “What the hell was that for?”

“Cool it, man. He’s still a kid, so no punching until he can punch back.”

Khan grumbled, “I know that. I mean after Yok gets back, then I’ll punch him in the face.”

“Great idea, dude. Let me know if you need help getting to the hospital afterward.”

“Dude, I don’t need a hospital,” Khan said smugly, crossing his arms and tipping his chair back so the front legs were suspended mid-air. “I have Thua. That’s one of the benefits of dating a med student.”

Wat rolled his eyes. “What about you, Aye? What’s your plan for Yok’s return?”

“I'm going to stay with him. I'll learn whatever I need to about this disorder, and I’m going to help him. I’m not going to lose him again, Wat.”

“That sounds good,” Khan interjected, leaning forward and allowing his chair to crash back to earth again. “But what about the others? What if it's not Yok that comes back but someone else? What then?”

“No matter which of his alters is in control,” Ayan declared, thinking briefly about his stilted conversation with ‘Yok’ last night. “He’s still my boyfriend. It might take a bit of time and effort, but I’m sure I can get through to each of them.”