2026-05-23, 06:46 AM - Word count:
Sitting in the academy dorm at night, a number of the players had decided on a movie night. Joe watched a couple of the Spanish speakers seemingly arguing about what they were going to watch. He wasn’t too sure if they were having arguing per se, or if they were just trying to put forward each of their preferred movies. Such is living with numerous cultural identities and languages. Joe, Tang and Bruce McAllister were sitting on a couch. His two friends seeming occupied by their phones, Joe’s eyes moved from the group trying to decide on a movie to one of the windows. It was dark already. Dark, and a little cloudy. It took him back to the day that, in hindsight, had changed everything. That had led to his being here, on a different continent, far, far away.
Following Joe’s enrolment in a new school, perceived by his old friends as being rather posh, he had felt a growing sense of distance from them, which was not in any way alleviated by the awareness that they were not exactly ones for studying. Life at his new school meant that Joe needed to put in at least some sort of effort, if nothing else then just to avoid being singled out by the teachers, and it made him feel almost like he was doing something wrong. Had his friends known, would they see him the same, he wondered, or would they look at him with eyes otherwise reserved for the wealthier city boys and girls? The thought alone kept him a little paranoid. Little jokes and comments would sometimes come off as snide remarks, and knowing that reacting would accomplish nothing but create an actual alienation, he avoided addressing it, but on the inside, he felt it chipping away at him.
It was Sunday morning. Well, as “morning” as it gets with teenagers largely devoid of adult supervision, anyway. Taking refuge from the sun in a courtyard covered by a roof, a few of the older boys had assembled, bringing with them bags containing soda, some light food and snacks. Joe grabbed a stick piercing a couple of Isaan sausages as the boys spoke about their plans for the evening. There was a party of sorts somewhere. Some girl that one of the older boys seemed to have the hots for would be there. If he were to be really honest, Joe had little interest in going, but now was not the time for honesty. Rather, it was the time for him to prove that he was still one of the guys. Most of all to himself.
The sun had long set. Dinner was done, Joe’s younger sister was in bed, and he was supposed to be so too. He wasn’t too sure where Tok was, but judging by the silence, he could deduce that it was likely that his father was already fast asleep. Or perhaps that he, too, had snuck out, most likely to drink whiskey with the other parents in the neighbourhood. Little could he have known that Joe’s plans were not all too dissimilar, as the youngster chose the option least likely to get him caught: escaping by the window in his room. Which sounds a lot more dramatic than it really was, room being on the ground floor and all. In hindsight, he may have gone with that route thanks to some cartoon he’d seen where the characters would slide down the drain pipe, but he obviously hadn’t the time to entertain such ponderings. After all, he had somewhere to be, and sometime to arrive. Some of the boys had agreed to meet by the same courtyard they’d been hanging out at earlier. There, three of the older guys, who had access to scooters, would each bring along another boy or two to their destination a couple of kilometres away.
Joe was welling with excitement at not only the fear of being found out, but also the prospect of finally having a chance to be one of the boys again. And with the older guys, nonetheless. To be present for the creation of the stories that would be circulated during the following week. Hell, if he were lucky, something really wicked would transpire, and he’d be in on it for months to come.
Joe confirmed that his sister was sleeping before he opened the window. After having done so, he waited for a moment, just to ensure that she was still fast asleep, before he crawled out, and shut it ever so softly behind him, leaving a tiny broken-off branch that would prevent it from locking him out. A small stone was then placed on the outside, as to avoid it blowing open, and after a final gaze in through a slight opening in the curtains, he felt confident enough to head out.
Arriving at the courtyard, he was greeted by a small crowd. “So, you’re finally joining us, are you? First time, right?” someone asked him. Joe simply nodded a “yeah,” as he walked into the group, looking around to see who was there. More or less just the older boys, after all. Perfect. He’d more or less be the only one of his age attending. That’d send his stock right back up.
Not many moments later, Joe got on the back of a scooter, the handles of which were cluttered with plastic bags, and off they rode into the night.
It was safe to say that the party was… different to what Joe had expected. He’d seen some sort of parties in American teenage movies, but it wasn’t anything he’d paid too much attention to. Even so, he figured that this wasn’t quite the same thing. It did have several of the characteristics. It was in someone’s house, although he wasn’t sure whose. In fact, it had appeared somewhat imposing to Joe as he had gotten off the scooter, with the volume escaping the door that was opened for him and his friends. There were a lot of people, some of whom were holding bottled beers of familiar brands in their hands. Singha, Chang, Leo. Others had plastic cups or bags containing beverages. Entering the house, there was a distinct odour that he struggled to identify. That much seemed to align with the movies. More or less, anyway, given that the context was obviously a lot more familiar to him, with the types of beverages he could make out, not to mention the attendants’ appearances. It was a lot more dimly lit, however, and the atmosphere also felt somehow different to what he had imagined. In combination with the slightly claustrophobic, and partially wooden interior of the house, these factors gave it all a bit of an illicit feel to Joe. He also wasn’t quite sure what he was even supposed to be doing there. Normally, he had no difficulties interacting with friends, strangers, children or adults, but here in the noise of the many voices blending with music of different genres escaping two different rooms, he wasn’t too sure how to act. The guys he’d arrived with had quickly split, with some heading off to the largest room on the floor, others to look for people they knew. Just a minute or two of absorbing the energy of the place was what it took for Joe to have lost track of the guys’ whereabouts. Well, other than this one older bloke who seemed wildly engaged in trying to impress a girl who Joe could only take to be the one whom he’d gone there to see. Not being close enough with the guy to break into the conversation, Joe stood around for a moment, trying his best not to look too out of place. Slowly making his way to what must have been the house’s living room, someone handed him a cup and informed him of its content, only the noise made it nigh-impossible to make out what was said. Joe half-shouted “thanks!” to the guy, and looked around to see if he could find anyone he knew.
After struggling to make out any faces in the dark, overcrowded room, Joe had considered for a moment if he could perhaps sneak a seat on what he suspected was a very worn-out sofa in the middle of the room, although it was hard to judge its exact state given the situation, but had decided he’d probably best not try to squeeze in between people he didn’t even know. After all, he had no idea what kinds of people would be in a place like this. All he knew was that it didn’t feel as though he should be one of them. Instead, he had made his way back to the wall near the opening that led to the hallway, as to at least have something to lean against.
Standing there, shoulder on the porous-looking wall, he tried a sip of whatever substance it was that he’d been handed. The mystery liquid was not what he’d hoped. Far from it, in fact, and thinking back, his reaction must have revealed as much, because it wasn’t long before a girl who had been passing by stopped in her tracks, looking at Joe. She seemed to be a few years older, a much better fit for the general crowd. Perhaps around eighteen.
“Hey. What are you drinking?” she asked the boy.
Not sure what it actually was that made up the contents of his mostly full cup, Joe went the first thing that came to mind, asking “would you like some?” and moving the cup somewhat in her direction.
The girl accepted the cup, peering at it for a moment before she put it against her lips and took a sip. She made a sound to indicate that she liked the flavour as she returned the cup to Joe with a “thank you,” before asking for his name.
“My friends call me Joe,” he said, trying his best not to look like a kid out of place, which, mind you, isn’t all that easy when you’re nearly a head shorter than the girl you’re talking to – who isn’t exactly tall to begin with.
“Joe, huh? I see! That’s a nice name! Well, you can call me…” she seemed to think for a moment, perhaps wondering whether she ought to provide him with her real name or not, before saying “Gin. Nice to meet you, Joe.”
“Nice to meet you too” was all he could think to say. Seemingly picking up on it quickly, Gin opened her mouth again, “is this your first party?”
Joe wasn’t quite sure what to answer. He could provide her with the half-truth that he had, of course, been to parties before. Only it had been with his dad, and that he’d been sat bored with the kids as their parents got to drinking. In fact, could those even be considered parties? They definitely were nothing like this one. Nor like the ones he’d seen on the big screen. He decided to answer truthfully, “yeah. Are they all like this?”
The girl laughed in a way that might on another occasion have bothered Joe, but which he just found to be kind of charming in this case. “I don’t believe so, no. There don’t have to be so many people. Of course, they also get a lot rowdier sometimes. Who did you come here with?”
“Just some of my friends.” Joe wasn’t sure if he should start listing them or not. “How about you?” he decided to ask her instead.
“Oh, just some of my friends,” she giggled.
The conversation with Gin had been the first pleasant moment of the night for Joe, and he had felt a little sad when she had been grabbed away by one of her friends who wanted her to go upstairs. She had even protested for a moment before eventually budging. Joe had stayed downstairs. Luckily, or perhaps not, he eventually spotted one of the guys he knew. Not a close friend (to be fair, none of the people he had gone with were), but a familiar face was at least something for him to latch onto. Following the guy outside, he was just about to call out to him, before he felt his clothes being pulled in the opposite direction to that which his body was heading in. What the…
Looking backwards, he saw something that looked like the shadow of his father, Tok. Except it should have been just that. A shadow. But a shadow cannot grab your clothes. A ghost? Perhaps a ghost can. And perhaps a ghost would have been less scary than what he actually saw when he got a proper look at the man behind him. Behind five layers of frown, a pair of slightly intoxicated eyes revealed greater displeasure than the rest of his father’s face. Fearing what would come if he did anything else, Joe quietly followed his father over to his scooter. Here, he grabbed his helmet, pushed it into Joe’s chest, and got on the scooter.
Once Joe had gotten on, Tok had taken off. He kept a moderate pace as they headed towards home. For the entire time, Joe thought of nothing but the punishment that awaited him. A punishment that never came. They reached home in silence. Tok gestured for Joe to go to bed. Bewildered at the whole scenario, Joe quietly obliged.
That one night’s events had led to what Joe initially thought of as his punishment. After all, punishment surely must have been coming his way, must it not? It never really did, though, and Tok didn’t ever really mention what had occurred. Which, more than anything, led Joe to speculate as to how he had known that he had gone out, not to mention where he was. It had felt as though his father had eyes everywhere, or that he was psychic or something. From that day onwards, Tok had asked Joe to help him set up the stall in the morning, and to close it down in the evening. Perhaps that was the punishment, Joe thought, or at least part of it. Whenever he had asked about why Tok suddenly needed assistance, he never got the answer he wanted, however. It was always just something about Tok growing older, sales being up, whatever have you. Never that Joe had done something wrong. Even so, Joe had been defiant for a good while, before eventually joining the school’s football team. What a decision that turned out to be.
Back in the present, the lads had finally decided on a movie. Peña’s suggestion seemed to have been triumphant, perhaps owing to his recent performances on the pitch. Only now did the next problem dawn upon them. The Spanish speaking guys had gone with an American movie, which was probably to be expected, and with a simple headcount, it was obvious that they would be watching it with Spanish subtitles. Joe and Tang looked at each other. Bruce, sat between them, seemed oblivious to their realisation, until he noticed the incredulous looks that they were sharing, and started laughing. Before long, they were all chuckling along, and that one party felt so far, far away.
After the movie was done, Joe had gone back to his dorm room. Lying in bed, he remembered how he had eventually overheard Tok telling some of the other stall-keepers about how he had once gone to pick up his stupid son from a party, and how the kid had apparently gone with a bunch of troublemakers who had brought not only alcohol much too hard for kids their age, but also lighter gas for sniffing. A bunch of idiot kids, he referred to them as. Only then had Joe understood that his dad hadn’t been trying to punish him. He’d been trying to keep him out of trouble. As he drifted off to sleep, Joe directed a single thought towards Gin. What was she up to now?
Following Joe’s enrolment in a new school, perceived by his old friends as being rather posh, he had felt a growing sense of distance from them, which was not in any way alleviated by the awareness that they were not exactly ones for studying. Life at his new school meant that Joe needed to put in at least some sort of effort, if nothing else then just to avoid being singled out by the teachers, and it made him feel almost like he was doing something wrong. Had his friends known, would they see him the same, he wondered, or would they look at him with eyes otherwise reserved for the wealthier city boys and girls? The thought alone kept him a little paranoid. Little jokes and comments would sometimes come off as snide remarks, and knowing that reacting would accomplish nothing but create an actual alienation, he avoided addressing it, but on the inside, he felt it chipping away at him.
It was Sunday morning. Well, as “morning” as it gets with teenagers largely devoid of adult supervision, anyway. Taking refuge from the sun in a courtyard covered by a roof, a few of the older boys had assembled, bringing with them bags containing soda, some light food and snacks. Joe grabbed a stick piercing a couple of Isaan sausages as the boys spoke about their plans for the evening. There was a party of sorts somewhere. Some girl that one of the older boys seemed to have the hots for would be there. If he were to be really honest, Joe had little interest in going, but now was not the time for honesty. Rather, it was the time for him to prove that he was still one of the guys. Most of all to himself.
The sun had long set. Dinner was done, Joe’s younger sister was in bed, and he was supposed to be so too. He wasn’t too sure where Tok was, but judging by the silence, he could deduce that it was likely that his father was already fast asleep. Or perhaps that he, too, had snuck out, most likely to drink whiskey with the other parents in the neighbourhood. Little could he have known that Joe’s plans were not all too dissimilar, as the youngster chose the option least likely to get him caught: escaping by the window in his room. Which sounds a lot more dramatic than it really was, room being on the ground floor and all. In hindsight, he may have gone with that route thanks to some cartoon he’d seen where the characters would slide down the drain pipe, but he obviously hadn’t the time to entertain such ponderings. After all, he had somewhere to be, and sometime to arrive. Some of the boys had agreed to meet by the same courtyard they’d been hanging out at earlier. There, three of the older guys, who had access to scooters, would each bring along another boy or two to their destination a couple of kilometres away.
Joe was welling with excitement at not only the fear of being found out, but also the prospect of finally having a chance to be one of the boys again. And with the older guys, nonetheless. To be present for the creation of the stories that would be circulated during the following week. Hell, if he were lucky, something really wicked would transpire, and he’d be in on it for months to come.
Joe confirmed that his sister was sleeping before he opened the window. After having done so, he waited for a moment, just to ensure that she was still fast asleep, before he crawled out, and shut it ever so softly behind him, leaving a tiny broken-off branch that would prevent it from locking him out. A small stone was then placed on the outside, as to avoid it blowing open, and after a final gaze in through a slight opening in the curtains, he felt confident enough to head out.
Arriving at the courtyard, he was greeted by a small crowd. “So, you’re finally joining us, are you? First time, right?” someone asked him. Joe simply nodded a “yeah,” as he walked into the group, looking around to see who was there. More or less just the older boys, after all. Perfect. He’d more or less be the only one of his age attending. That’d send his stock right back up.
Not many moments later, Joe got on the back of a scooter, the handles of which were cluttered with plastic bags, and off they rode into the night.
It was safe to say that the party was… different to what Joe had expected. He’d seen some sort of parties in American teenage movies, but it wasn’t anything he’d paid too much attention to. Even so, he figured that this wasn’t quite the same thing. It did have several of the characteristics. It was in someone’s house, although he wasn’t sure whose. In fact, it had appeared somewhat imposing to Joe as he had gotten off the scooter, with the volume escaping the door that was opened for him and his friends. There were a lot of people, some of whom were holding bottled beers of familiar brands in their hands. Singha, Chang, Leo. Others had plastic cups or bags containing beverages. Entering the house, there was a distinct odour that he struggled to identify. That much seemed to align with the movies. More or less, anyway, given that the context was obviously a lot more familiar to him, with the types of beverages he could make out, not to mention the attendants’ appearances. It was a lot more dimly lit, however, and the atmosphere also felt somehow different to what he had imagined. In combination with the slightly claustrophobic, and partially wooden interior of the house, these factors gave it all a bit of an illicit feel to Joe. He also wasn’t quite sure what he was even supposed to be doing there. Normally, he had no difficulties interacting with friends, strangers, children or adults, but here in the noise of the many voices blending with music of different genres escaping two different rooms, he wasn’t too sure how to act. The guys he’d arrived with had quickly split, with some heading off to the largest room on the floor, others to look for people they knew. Just a minute or two of absorbing the energy of the place was what it took for Joe to have lost track of the guys’ whereabouts. Well, other than this one older bloke who seemed wildly engaged in trying to impress a girl who Joe could only take to be the one whom he’d gone there to see. Not being close enough with the guy to break into the conversation, Joe stood around for a moment, trying his best not to look too out of place. Slowly making his way to what must have been the house’s living room, someone handed him a cup and informed him of its content, only the noise made it nigh-impossible to make out what was said. Joe half-shouted “thanks!” to the guy, and looked around to see if he could find anyone he knew.
After struggling to make out any faces in the dark, overcrowded room, Joe had considered for a moment if he could perhaps sneak a seat on what he suspected was a very worn-out sofa in the middle of the room, although it was hard to judge its exact state given the situation, but had decided he’d probably best not try to squeeze in between people he didn’t even know. After all, he had no idea what kinds of people would be in a place like this. All he knew was that it didn’t feel as though he should be one of them. Instead, he had made his way back to the wall near the opening that led to the hallway, as to at least have something to lean against.
Standing there, shoulder on the porous-looking wall, he tried a sip of whatever substance it was that he’d been handed. The mystery liquid was not what he’d hoped. Far from it, in fact, and thinking back, his reaction must have revealed as much, because it wasn’t long before a girl who had been passing by stopped in her tracks, looking at Joe. She seemed to be a few years older, a much better fit for the general crowd. Perhaps around eighteen.
“Hey. What are you drinking?” she asked the boy.
Not sure what it actually was that made up the contents of his mostly full cup, Joe went the first thing that came to mind, asking “would you like some?” and moving the cup somewhat in her direction.
The girl accepted the cup, peering at it for a moment before she put it against her lips and took a sip. She made a sound to indicate that she liked the flavour as she returned the cup to Joe with a “thank you,” before asking for his name.
“My friends call me Joe,” he said, trying his best not to look like a kid out of place, which, mind you, isn’t all that easy when you’re nearly a head shorter than the girl you’re talking to – who isn’t exactly tall to begin with.
“Joe, huh? I see! That’s a nice name! Well, you can call me…” she seemed to think for a moment, perhaps wondering whether she ought to provide him with her real name or not, before saying “Gin. Nice to meet you, Joe.”
“Nice to meet you too” was all he could think to say. Seemingly picking up on it quickly, Gin opened her mouth again, “is this your first party?”
Joe wasn’t quite sure what to answer. He could provide her with the half-truth that he had, of course, been to parties before. Only it had been with his dad, and that he’d been sat bored with the kids as their parents got to drinking. In fact, could those even be considered parties? They definitely were nothing like this one. Nor like the ones he’d seen on the big screen. He decided to answer truthfully, “yeah. Are they all like this?”
The girl laughed in a way that might on another occasion have bothered Joe, but which he just found to be kind of charming in this case. “I don’t believe so, no. There don’t have to be so many people. Of course, they also get a lot rowdier sometimes. Who did you come here with?”
“Just some of my friends.” Joe wasn’t sure if he should start listing them or not. “How about you?” he decided to ask her instead.
“Oh, just some of my friends,” she giggled.
The conversation with Gin had been the first pleasant moment of the night for Joe, and he had felt a little sad when she had been grabbed away by one of her friends who wanted her to go upstairs. She had even protested for a moment before eventually budging. Joe had stayed downstairs. Luckily, or perhaps not, he eventually spotted one of the guys he knew. Not a close friend (to be fair, none of the people he had gone with were), but a familiar face was at least something for him to latch onto. Following the guy outside, he was just about to call out to him, before he felt his clothes being pulled in the opposite direction to that which his body was heading in. What the…
Looking backwards, he saw something that looked like the shadow of his father, Tok. Except it should have been just that. A shadow. But a shadow cannot grab your clothes. A ghost? Perhaps a ghost can. And perhaps a ghost would have been less scary than what he actually saw when he got a proper look at the man behind him. Behind five layers of frown, a pair of slightly intoxicated eyes revealed greater displeasure than the rest of his father’s face. Fearing what would come if he did anything else, Joe quietly followed his father over to his scooter. Here, he grabbed his helmet, pushed it into Joe’s chest, and got on the scooter.
Once Joe had gotten on, Tok had taken off. He kept a moderate pace as they headed towards home. For the entire time, Joe thought of nothing but the punishment that awaited him. A punishment that never came. They reached home in silence. Tok gestured for Joe to go to bed. Bewildered at the whole scenario, Joe quietly obliged.
That one night’s events had led to what Joe initially thought of as his punishment. After all, punishment surely must have been coming his way, must it not? It never really did, though, and Tok didn’t ever really mention what had occurred. Which, more than anything, led Joe to speculate as to how he had known that he had gone out, not to mention where he was. It had felt as though his father had eyes everywhere, or that he was psychic or something. From that day onwards, Tok had asked Joe to help him set up the stall in the morning, and to close it down in the evening. Perhaps that was the punishment, Joe thought, or at least part of it. Whenever he had asked about why Tok suddenly needed assistance, he never got the answer he wanted, however. It was always just something about Tok growing older, sales being up, whatever have you. Never that Joe had done something wrong. Even so, Joe had been defiant for a good while, before eventually joining the school’s football team. What a decision that turned out to be.
Back in the present, the lads had finally decided on a movie. Peña’s suggestion seemed to have been triumphant, perhaps owing to his recent performances on the pitch. Only now did the next problem dawn upon them. The Spanish speaking guys had gone with an American movie, which was probably to be expected, and with a simple headcount, it was obvious that they would be watching it with Spanish subtitles. Joe and Tang looked at each other. Bruce, sat between them, seemed oblivious to their realisation, until he noticed the incredulous looks that they were sharing, and started laughing. Before long, they were all chuckling along, and that one party felt so far, far away.
After the movie was done, Joe had gone back to his dorm room. Lying in bed, he remembered how he had eventually overheard Tok telling some of the other stall-keepers about how he had once gone to pick up his stupid son from a party, and how the kid had apparently gone with a bunch of troublemakers who had brought not only alcohol much too hard for kids their age, but also lighter gas for sniffing. A bunch of idiot kids, he referred to them as. Only then had Joe understood that his dad hadn’t been trying to punish him. He’d been trying to keep him out of trouble. As he drifted off to sleep, Joe directed a single thought towards Gin. What was she up to now?
