1

He rubs his face in frustration.

400,000 baht.

That's a lot of money to earn in just one month.

Sky Wongravee exhales sharply, leaning back against the wall before sliding down, head bowed in defeat.

He'd do anything to save his uncle, Sunny Suwanmethanont who's currently battling lung cancer.

But money. That's the biggest problem right now.

He has no one.

No one to turn to. No one to help him financially.

Time feels frozen as Sky lets out a heavy sigh.

Working as a barista in a small coffee shop in the heart of Bangkok barely covers the basics, let alone the city's high cost of living.

He leaves the hospital with slouched shoulders, burdened by the weight of reality.

Sunny needs to stay another night, adding even more to the already overwhelming hospital bill.

Each step feels heavier than the last as Sky walks toward the bus station, his eyes unfocused.

The glow of the city night slowly lighting up around him.

As he lifts his head, his gaze lands on a flyer taped to a pillar at the station.

A job offer. Escort needed.

100,000 baht per hour.

He swallows hard.

Sky stares at the flyer, the bold numbers flashing in his mind like a warning.

100,000 baht per hour.

It sounds unreal. Too good to be true.

But desperation dulls doubt, and right now, he doesn't have the luxury of being careful.

His fingers tremble as he pulls the paper off the pillar, folding it neatly as if it were something precious.

His heart pounds, not from excitement, but fear.

Desperation. Hesitation.

"It's just one hour," he tells himself.

One hour, one night, one deal.No one needs to know.

He forces himself to breathe, to move.

The paper now feels heavier in his pocket than the entire burden on his back.

As soon as the bus arrives, Sky climbs in and takes a seat by the window.

He closes his eyes, then opens them again, repeatedly, as the vehicle moves smoothly toward his destination.

His fingers brush lightly against the paper in his pocket, and a twitch runs through him.

Once he gets home, he'll call.

Yes, he'll call to ask about the job that promises an unbelievable 100,000 baht per hour.

After a twenty-minute ride, he finally reaches his stop.

His small rental house sits wedged between two others in the middle of the city.

But as he approaches the front gate, two familiar figures are already waiting for him.

The couple who owns the rental house.

"It's been three months already," the husband snaps. "You keep saying you'll pay the full amount, but we've barely received half."

Sky lowers his head, a tight lump forming in his throat.

"I'm barely getting by with my job as a barista," he says, voice low. Half pleading as he finally meets their eyes.

The woman sighs, crossing her arms in frustration.

"We've been patient, Sky," the woman says, her tone softer than her husband's but no less firm.

"But we can't keep waiting forever. If rent isn't paid by next week, we'll have no choice."

Sky nods silently, ashamed.

There's nothing left to say. He doesn't even have enough for rent, let alone for his uncle surgery.

The couple walks away, murmuring to each other as they disappear behind their gate.

Sky stands there for a long moment, staring at the ground, fists clenched at his sides.

Eventually, he unlocks the front door and steps inside.

The house is quiet.

Too quiet.

Just a small fan whirring in the corner, and the faint sound of traffic beyond the thin walls. He drops his bag and sinks onto the edge of the worn-out mattress.

His eyes drift to the wall clock.

11:11pm.

He pulls the folded flyer from his pocket, smooths it out on the bed, and reads the number again. It's already burned into his mind.

Sky reaches for his phone, hands trembling, and dials.

It rings once. Twice.

Then a calm, professional voice answers.

"Agency line. May I help you?"

Sky swallows hard. "I saw your flyer. I'm calling about the escort job."

"First-timer?"

He hesitates. "Yes."

"Good. Share your location and bank account number. We'll send a driver to pick you up at 10pm on Saturday. You'll be meeting a VIP client in three days. Your outfit will be delivered before then. Dress well. Hair slicked back. No perfume. Just confidence."

"What about the payment?" Sky asks, his voice laced with desperation.

There's a brief silence before the voice speaks again.

"We'll pay you based on the number of hours you spend with the client. But once we pick you up on Saturday, the first 100,000 baht will be deposited into your account."

Click.

The call ends.

The silence after the call is deafening.

Sky lowers the phone slowly, staring at the blank screen like it might offer answers, or maybe just reassurance.

It doesn't.

His heart pounds, too loud in his chest. His palms are sweaty. One hundred thousand baht. Just for showing up. Just for being someone else for a night.

He doesn't know what the client will expect. He doesn't want to know.

But his uncle needs treatment. The rent is overdue. There are no other options left.

Sky sinks onto the mattress again, burying his face in his hands. He doesn't cry but his eyes burn.

His whole body feels heavy with the weight of a decision he never thought he'd have to make.

***

"You're daydreaming."

Sky flinched slightly when a tap landed on his shoulder. It was View Benyapa, his co-worker.

He offered her a soft smile that barely reached his eyes, shaking his head.

"I'm just thinking about my uncle," he said, though the truth was, Sunny barely crossed his mind at that moment.

His thoughts were tangled around tonight.

View gave him a concerned look, but Sky brushed it off and returned to preparing drinks for the customers.

It was lunchtime, the rush hour. Everyone needed their daily caffeine fix after a long morning at work.

Sky, well-known as W Café's handsome barista, continued working behind the counter.

With sharp features, a perfect side profile, and drinks as impressive as his looks, he served each customer with his usual charming smile.

Even if it was only skin-deep today.

The café buzzed with noise, orders being called out, espresso machines hissing, customers chatting but for Sky, it all blurred into the background.

He moved on autopilot.

Pour. Shake. Serve. Smile.

"Thanks, Sky!" a regular customer beamed as he handed over a latte with a swirl of perfect foam art.

He nodded, gave his usual polite grin, and turned away before it could fade.

Time passed quickly when your mind was somewhere else.

By 6pm, the customers began to thin. View glanced over from the counter, wiping her hands on a towel.

"You sure you're okay?" she asked quietly, stepping closer. "You've been off today."

Sky hesitated, but nodded. "Just tired. Didn't sleep much."

She didn't press further. "Well, your shift ends in an hour. Go home and rest, alright? You look like you need it."

He gave her a faint smile. "Yeah. Thanks, View."

Sky resumed his work, helping View prepare ingredients while waiting for the worker who would take over his shift.

Once he was done, he untied his apron and hung it up in the café's back room.

View gave him a slight nod as he passed by, watching him leave just as the part-time worker stepped in.

Sky greeted the part-timer briefly, then quietly made his way home, lost in thought.

Halfway there, his phone buzzed.

A call from the hospital.

"Mr. Wongravee, your uncle requires a minor chemotherapy session before the surgery next month," the nurse informed him gently from the other end.

Sky stopped walking. He pressed his fingers to his temple and crouched down by the sidewalk, his heart pounding.

"How much will that cost?" he asked, voice tight with worry.

"Around 20,000 to 30,000 baht, depending on how he responds," the nurse replied.

Sky closed his eyes, frustration tightening his chest.

Silence hung heavy between them until the nurse softly called his name again.

"Just proceed," Sky said, barely above a whisper. "I'll settle the current bill by Monday at the latest."

He ended the call and stayed there a moment longer, crouched on the edge of the road, the city moving on without him.

Sky finally stood, dusting off his pants as he slowly made his way home.

His house greeted him in silence, just the soft hum of the fridge and the distant noise of traffic outside his window.

He sat on the edge of his bed, the hospital call replaying over and over in his mind.

20,000 to 30,000 baht.

That was on top of the rent.

On top of the surgery. On top of everything.

He didn't cry. He couldn't afford to.

Instead, he stood up, walked to the small mirror above his drawer, and stared at his reflection.

It was time.

Sky changed into the suit they had delivered. The material was smooth, expensive and foreign against his skin.

He combed his hair back just as they instructed and applied gel to keep it neat.

His hands shook a little, but he forced himself to breathe, to move slowly, like he wasn't terrified.

He checked the time. 9:52pm.

His phone buzzed again.

Unknown Number – Your driver has arrived.

Sky grabbed his wallet, his phone, and a single breath of courage before stepping out the door.

Outside, a sleek black car waited by the sideroad.

The driver, dressed in all black, stepped out and opened the back door without a word.

Sky hesitated. Just for a second.

Then he slid in, the door closing behind him with a soft, final click.

The city lights blurred through the tinted windows as they drove, every minute dragging and speeding by all at once.

His heart thudded in his chest.

He had no idea what kind of man was waiting for him tonight.

He only knew one thing, it was a deal with something he doesn't know.

And there was no turning back now.

The ride felt longer than it really was.

The driver didn't speak. He didn't even glance in the rearview mirror.

He just drove smoothly through the heart of Bangkok, where lights flickered off the windshield and the noise of the city faded into silence behind the car doors.

Sky sat with his hands clasped tightly in his lap.

His throat was dry.His mind was loud.

And the closer they got, the heavier the weight in his chest became.

Finally, the car pulled into a gated driveway in front of luxury villa.

It looked more like a private club or a luxury cottege in massive size that no one talked about unless they were invited.

The driver stepped out and opened Sky's door.

"This way," he said simply.

Sky followed him through a main door, past two silent men in black suits who gave a single nod as he walked by.

Security. Definitely not normal.

The walk down the main hallway was smooth and silent. When the elevator doors opened, the driver gestured forward.

"He's waiting for you upstairs."

Sky stepped into the elevator, and the driver pressed the button for the third floor where only two rooms were located.

The hallway was dimly lit.

Elegant, expensive, and almost unnaturally quiet.

City lights spilled in through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting silver reflections across the polished marble floors.

When he reached one of the doors, he raised his hand to knock—

But a soft "Come in" made him pause, then turn the doorknob.

And then—

"You're early," a smooth voice said.

Sky turned.

Standing by the window, a glass of vodka in hand, was a man dressed in deep crimson red from head to toe.

Sharp suit. Sharper gaze.Dangerous in a quiet, elegant way.

He was too young to hold that much power.Too handsome to be that feared.

Their eyes met.

And in that brief moment, something passed between them.

Curiosity. Doubt.

The man took a slow sip of his drink.

"So," he said, voice low and amused, "you're the one they sent me."

Sky swallowed hard, trying to keep his expression neutral. "Yes."

He looked him over, his gaze lingering a moment too long.

"I asked for a fierce company," he said, walking forward with careful, measured steps. "Not a boring one."

Sky flinched slightly but didn't back down.

"I can be whatever you need me to be."

A pause.

The man smiled but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Careful with promises like that," he murmured, now standing close. "In my world, we hold people to them."

Sky caught the small smirk on his lips.

Those hooded, cat-like eyes held a dangerous glint behind their warm amber hue.