Chapter Four: Sud
NMonday, Noi is all business when we meet up in one of the rooms of the theater arts building. He’s sent me several LINE messages over the past few days with screenshots of pieces of the script and ideas for how we’ll play it. I knew he would be like this once he committed himself, and I also knew it would ground me.
Halfway through practicing the first quarter of our lines with Bekki and Koman watching us from folding chairs against the wall, Bekki suddenly stops us.
“Mee Noi, you’re being too familiar with Sud. I told him you guys are too brotherly.” I open my mouth to argue, but she keeps talking. “Put yourself in your character’s place and think about Sud’s character as someone you’re interested in. Or, if it’s easier, pretend Sud is somebody you like that way.”
Noi looks at me like I’m a math problem he’s trying to figure out before nodding.
Bekki claps her hands. “Okay, start again with your line, Sud. Action!”
This time, the scene goes differently. The change in Noi’s demeanor alters everything and, in reaction, my portrayal of my character strengthens. It’s a great feeling.
“Cut! That was so much better!” Bekki enthuses. “You guys might need to do some skinship practice before our next rehearsal because although your line delivery is really good, you still look a bit awkward when you touch,” Bekki says after we run through the scene half a dozen more times.
“We’re pretty familiar with each other,” I say to Bekki.
“Sure, in a brotherly way, but not in a romantic way. Practice being boyfriends before our next rehearsal.”
We agree to try. I wonder if Noi’s okay with it, but I’m afraid to ask. He’s doing me a huge favor, and I know it isn’t easy for him.
***
“Are we going to cuddle?” Noi asks.
“What?” I say, then remember the skinship Bekki suggested. It’s a few hours later, and we’re sitting in the living room of the apartment I share with two roommates, about to watch one of Noi’s weird fantasy movies. I prefer explosions and machine guns over arrows and axes, but he won the coin toss.
“I guess we could,” I say, offering him the bowl of popcorn I just made.
Noi scoots closer to me, and I start the movie. Noi’s quiet a moment while he munches on a handful of popcorn, then he says, “Okay, well, you’ve done a lot of dating. How do we start?”
I think about the times I’ve watched movies with girlfriends. Usually, we’re making out before the end of the first scene. I don’t tell Noi that.
Lifting my arm, I say, “Come a little closer.”
Noi wipes his hands on a napkin and ducks under my arm, nestling up to my side. Imagining doing something like this with Ez, Team, or any of the other guys in theater arts makes my insides squirm, but it feels perfectly natural with Noi. I knew it would.
While the opening sequence of the movie plays, Noi talks about our scene. “After Put confesses, he and Leo sit down, then Leo puts his arm around Put. Do you think they’re sitting like this rather than the way we did it today when we rehearsed?”
“Bekki didn’t say it was wrong.” I think about it. “Maybe Leo and Put are a little too freaked out by the confession to snuggle this way. We’re doing this right now so we’ll be more comfortable with the end of the scene, I think.” At the end, the characters don’t kiss, but they do share an intimate hug and are about to kiss when the scene cuts off. It’s important that their connection looks real.
Studying our positions, Noi instructs, “Pull me closer.”
I do. Now our legs are pressed together, and my hand naturally slips midway down Noi’s upper arm.
“I think this is the way we should do it,” Noi says. “Okay, let’s watch the movie. Oh, you missed the first part. The elves are preparing to visit the underground world of the dwarves.”
“Of course they are,” I mutter, earning me a pinch on the thigh, but soon Noi relaxes, resting his head against my side. I find myself absently stroking his arm as I watch the elves on the screen pack up their duffle bags before jumping on their horses and riding toward a large orange sun.
A half hour later, just when the fight scene begins between the elves and dwarves and the savage trolls, my roommate Ford gets home. Stopping in the middle of the room, he stares at us. “Uh, am I interrupting something?”
“Shh, this is the good part,” Noi says, shooing Ford away with his hand.
I don’t look at Ford because the leader elf just skewered a troll with his sword and green blood is spurting everywhere.
After the scene ends, Noi pauses the movie and puts the popcorn bowl on the table. “Yuck, that was gross.”
“I thought it was cool,” I say. “Best part so far.”