Present Day – At the Café
"Ko Kyaw Zin!" I greeted warmly as I stepped into the quiet little café. There he was—calm, smiling, and exactly the same as I remembered. He had been assistant teacher in university that I attended when I was in Yangon, and more than that, the one who helped me get the scholarship to study in the UK. Now, after four long years, we were meeting again.
"Ngwe," he stood and patted my shoulder like a proud older brother, "long time no see. You've changed a lot—you look more mature now."
"Haha, really?" I chuckled, taking a sip of the coffee in front of me. "I guess I have."
"So, how are you doing these days?"
"I'm great. I heard you left your job at the university?"
"Yes," he nodded. "I'm working at a design company now. Actually, if you're job hunting, I can introduce you to my boss. I'm sure he'd like you."
"That would be amazing. I've been looking for something, and I'd really love to work with you again."
"I'll call you after I talk to my boss," he said with a reassuring smile. Then his tone shifted, becoming more careful. "And... how's your situation with Paing Say Yan? Have you met him yet?"
Ko Kyaw Zin was the only one who truly knew what happened between me and Paing. I had no reason to lie or hide anything from him.
"Yes," I said quietly, eyes lowering to my coffee. "I saw him. He's... the same."
"I—" he began, but before he could finish, a voice interrupted.
"Ngwe Nay Kha. What are you doing?"
We both turned.
Paing Say Yan.
He appeared breathless, as if he'd just run here, his shirt sticking to his skin slightly with sweat. His eyes were sharp, his expression—furious.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, standing. "How did you know I was here?"
"That's what I should be asking you. I already told you—I don't like it when you talk to him.
I called you, and you didn't answer," he said, voice low but sharp. "I went to your house—you avoided me. But then I see you, smiling and talking to him here like nothing's wrong."
His eyes darkened.
I laughed, dry and sharp. "Why do you think you can tell me what to do? Why should I care what you don't like? You and I are nothing now. Just strangers."
"That's what you think," he shot back. "But I've never seen you as a stranger. You're my friend. You're mine."
"Bullshit, Paing Say Yan." I glared. "I'm not yours. I'm not even your friend. Stop showing up in front of me. I hate you so much, I could throw up just from seeing your face. Leave. Now I'm talking with Ko Kyaw Zin."
"I'm not leaving," he said, stepping forward. And before I could react, he grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of the café, ignoring the startled looks from nearby tables.
"Paing Say Yan! Let go! What the hell are you doing?!" I shouted, struggling as he pulled me to his car. Once inside, he slammed the door and locked it.
"Open the door," I demanded. "Right now."
"Why are you treating me like this, Ngwe?" His voice cracked, frustration evident in his tone. "I gave you four years. Isn't that enough? Can't we just go back to how things used to be?"
I laughed bitterly. "Are you insane? You're the one who destroyed everything—and now you want to go back like nothing happened?"
"You didn't even give me a chance to explain," he said, looking at me with pleading eyes. "You just left. Disappeared. For four years. You never let me say anything."
"Because I didn't want to hear it!" I snapped. "Now open the damn door."
"No. I heard you refused to work at my father's company. Why?" His voice trembled. "We made a promise... to work together. After graduation. Why are you breaking it?"
"A promise?" I laughed again, more broken this time. "Are you seriously clinging to that promise after what you did? You think I'm some fool who'll do whatever you say just because we were friends?"
"It's not like that—I just want things to be like they were," he murmured.
"You slept with my girlfriend, Paing Say Yan!" I shouted. "You cheated behind my back—with the girl I loved! Did it never cross your brilliant mind that she was your best friend's girlfriend?!"
"Ngwe," he said, his voice sharp with frustration. "So… you're angry because of her? Is that it? Are you really this angry because of that damn girl?"
His face closer, eyes burning. "You mean… she was more important to you than us? Than our friendship?"
I stared at him, stunned—not by the question, but by how little he understood.
"You're not listening to me at all," I said quietly, my voice shaking. "You never have."
"Ngwe, I—"
"Don't call my name." My voice was ice. "Just open the door."
He hesitated, then finally unlocked it.
I yanked the door open and stepped out, but before walking away, I turned back.
"Oh, and just so you know—I'm going to work with Ko Kyaw Zin. So don't try to push me into anything."
"You're not allowed to work with him," he said firmly, eyes narrowing. "You can hate me all you want, but not that. I won't allow it."
"You don't get to allow anything."
"I can stop you," he replied, his voice cold now. "I'm not the same Paing Say Yan anymore. If you join that company... I'll destroy it. I have the power. You know I do. I'll ruin every company you try to work for."
"You're unbelievable," I whispered. "You've always done whatever you wanted—never once thinking about how other people feel."
"Because you're mine," he said, as if that was explanation enough.
"I was never yours."
I grabbed the front of his collar, one hand already pulling back, ready to strike him across the face. He didn't flinch. He stood still, eyes closed, as if ready to take the hit.
But I didn't.
I stepped back.
And I walked away.
Why is it always like this with him? Why is every conversation so hard? Why does my heart still ache, even after everything he's done?
Does he truly think I'm that easy to manipulate? Maybe I was, once. Maybe I gave him too much power over me. Maybe that's why he turned into the spoiled child who never learned how to lose.
Flashback – High School Days
Every morning during high school, Paing Say Yan would show up outside my house, waiting with his bicycle to take me to school.
Back in the early days, we used to ride our own bikes, side by side. But everything changed in the middle of ninth grade.
I had a terrible accident—a ten-wheeler truck crashed into me.
I still remember the sound. The moment. The pain.
My right arm was broken. My body was bruised, scraped, torn. But the truth is, I was lucky. If Paing Say Yan hadn't been there—if he hadn't pulled me out of the road —I might have died right then and there.
That day burned itself into both of us.
I didn't cry on the way to the hospital. But he did.
Sitting beside me, helpless, his hands shaking as he looked down at my bloodied skin, he cried as if the world was ending.
After that, he never let me ride a bike again. Not once. Whether it was school, the bookstore, or anywhere else—he insisted on taking me himself. The trauma from the accident hit him harder than it did me.
One morning, like so many others, I found him waiting outside my house, standing beside his bike.
I grinned and teased him, "Are you tired of waiting for a 'sorry' song?"
Without missing a beat, he flashed me that annoyingly charming smile. "Alright—anything for My Babe. Gin Char Nar."
"Don't call me that so loudly," I warned, rolling my eyes as I stepped closer. "People might get the wrong idea. They already think we're... something else."
He laughed. "Well, that just shows you care. You and I are just honest friends."
"Just honest friends, huh?" I repeated, a little too quietly.
Then, casually, he pulled something from the front basket of his bike—milk and a boiled egg, still warm. He handed it to me without a word.
"I'm not sick," I said, raising an eyebrow. "You can have it if you want."
He shook his head firmly. "No, you have to eat. Even if you don't feel like it. You've been studying too hard lately—you're getting too skinny. It's like your bones are disappearing."
I let out a soft laugh.
"If you won't eat it," he added dramatically, "I'll feed it to you myself."
"Okay, okay—I'll eat it, Boss," I surrendered, taking the food from his hands.
That's how it always was between us.
No matter how much I teased him, no matter how annoyed I pretended to be, I always gave in.
Again and again.
Because deep down, there had never been any hesitation between us.
Not back then.