Chapter 1:unstable Conditions
Unstable Conditions
The red light on the camera blinked.
Fah stared at it, throat tight, palms damp against the table. The weather map behind him glowed with familiar colors—greens, yellows, warnings he had memorized long ago. He had rehearsed this forecast twice already.
“Go ahead,” the producer said through his earpiece. “You’re live.”
Fah inhaled.
“Today, Bangkok will experience scattered rainfall—”
“Cut.”
The red light went off.
“What was that?” Krit, the senior meteorologist, snapped from behind the monitors. “Scattered rainfall? Did you even look at the pressure system?”
“I did,” Fah said quickly, standing up. “The satellite imagery shows instability—”
“You think,” Krit interrupted. “You always think. This isn’t a guessing game.”
The room went quiet.
Fah felt every pair of eyes on him—pity, discomfort, relief that it wasn’t them.
“I double-checked the data,” Fah said, voice steady even though his chest burned. “The model updated late.”
Krit scoffed. “Excuses. You’re on national television, Fah. If you can’t handle pressure, maybe you shouldn’t be here.”
Something inside Fah cracked—not loudly, not enough for anyone to notice, but enough.
“I’m doing my job,” Fah said. “You don’t get to talk to me like that.”
The silence that followed was heavy.
Later that afternoon, the decision came quickly.
Not a firing.
Not a punishment.
A transfer.
“Phuket,” the manager said gently, sliding the paper across the desk. “Just for October. Clear your head. The regional station is quieter.”
Quieter.
Temporary.
Out of the way.
Fah nodded, smiling automatically, even as his chest felt hollow.
The café near the station smelled like burnt sugar and old coffee. Fah sat by the window, fingers wrapped around a cup he hadn’t touched.
Across from him, Mew frowned. “They’re idiots.”
Fah laughed softly. “You say that about everyone.”
“Because everyone deserves it,” Mew replied. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I talked back.”
“You stood up for yourself.”
Fah shrugged. “Same thing to them.”
Outside, the sky was overcast. Not raining. Just heavy.
“Phuket isn’t bad,” Mew said after a pause. “Sea, good food. Maybe you’ll like it.”
“Maybe,” Fah replied.
He didn’t say what he was really thinking—that being liked everywhere still didn’t stop him from feeling disposable.
When they hugged goodbye, Mew held on longer than usual.
“Text me when you land,” she said.
“I will.”
Phuket greeted him with warm air and the smell of salt.
October here was different—quieter, slower, as if the island itself was breathing deeply. Fah dragged his suitcase through narrow streets until the road opened up to the sea.
He left his bag behind and walked closer, shoes sinking slightly into the sand.
The waves were calm.
Then he saw him.
A man stood near the edge of the water, back straight, clothes dark against the pale sky. He didn’t move when the waves reached his feet. He didn’t look around.
He just stood there.
Fah’s heart jumped.
“Oh—no, no, no,” he muttered, already breaking into a run.
He grabbed the man’s arm and pulled hard. “Hey—don’t!”
The man stumbled back, clearly not expecting it.
“What the hell—”
Fah was breathing fast. “I don’t want trauma on my first day here, okay? If you’re planning something, at least not while I’m—”
The man stared at him.
Then frowned.
“I wasn’t doing anything.”
Fah froze.
The silence stretched between them, broken only by the waves.
“You… weren’t?” Fah asked weakly.
“No,” the man said flatly, pulling his arm back. “I was checking the tide.”
“Oh.”
Heat rushed to Fah’s face. “I’m—sorry. I thought you were—”
“Jumping?” the man finished, unimpressed.
“…Yeah.”
The man sighed, rubbing his wrist. “You’re strong for someone who panics this easily.”
Fah laughed nervously. “Occupational hazard. Weather forecaster.”
The man looked at him for a moment longer than necessary.
“…Talay,” he said finally.
“Fah.”
They stood there, awkward, the sea moving quietly beside them.
Neither of them knew it yet—but the weather had already changed.
Unseen Currents(Talay's POV)
Talay stood at the edge of the sea, letting the waves lap at his feet. The water was calm today, almost hypnotic. He didn’t usually come here this early, but something about the quiet morning called him.
The island had its rhythm—soft, predictable, unlike Bangkok. Unlike the people who wanted something from him all the time.
He felt a presence behind him before he saw it—a sudden tug on his arm that nearly pulled him into the water.
“Hey—don’t!” a panicked voice said.
Talay stumbled back, steadying himself. He glanced over his shoulder at the person who had grabbed him—a young man, dark hair messy from the humidity, expression a mixture of fear and embarrassment.
“What the hell—” Talay said, annoyed but calm, eyes narrowing slightly.
“I don’t want trauma on my first day here, okay?” the young man blurted, voice shaking. “If you’re planning something, at least not while I’m—”
Talay froze for a second, realizing the misunderstanding.
“…You weren’t doing anything?” Talay asked, tone clipped.
“…No,” the young man said. “…I was checking the tide.”
Talay exhaled slowly, half-smile tugging at his lips. “Good,” he said flatly. “You nearly ruined my morning.”
The young man’s face flushed, eyes darting everywhere except at him. Talay watched quietly.
“Occupational hazard. Weather forecaster,” he finally muttered, fidgeting with his hands.
Talay’s gaze lingered. Weather forecaster, huh? Calm on the surface, jittery underneath. Interesting.
“…Talay,” he said finally, as if introducing himself for the first time.
“Fah,” the other replied, still looking uncertain.
Talay tilted his head slightly, scanning him—small frame, soft posture, unassuming, but…he could see the tension beneath. People like Fah didn’t usually get taken seriously, yet here he was, standing on his island, challenging a quiet man who preferred solitude.
Talay shook his head lightly, letting the corner of his mouth twitch upward again.
The sea rolled gently at their feet, oblivious to the quiet collision of their worlds.
Talay didn’t speak after that. He didn’t need to.
Some things didn’t need words.
And right now, Talay decided to watch.
