THEWEDDINGPLAN, Chapter 0:
There are only two types of good men: those who aren’t married… and those who become someone else’s husband. Inside a famous fast-food restaurant located in a bustling business district, a young man was carrying a tray laden with a massive hamburger, a large Coke, and upsized French fries toward a window-side seat, inhaling the tantalizing aroma of fatty food deep into his lungs.
“Exhausted like this? Only a double big burger will do!!” Namnuea, a robust young man with a love for food, muttered to himself as he set the tray down and plopped into the seat. He rubbed his palms together, declaring war on the pile of food, ready to dive into the battle.
Slurp
“Wooood!”
One hand grabbed the Coke and took a big sip.
Crinkle crinkle
“Yum!”
The other hand unwrapped the hamburger, and he took a huge bite without a care for looking cool.
Then he chewed heartily, savoring the delicious flavors, washing it down with the meal that everyone says… “Want to die from clogged arteries or what?!”
It was a thought he shrugged off without much concern. Because Namnuea believed he wasn’t fat… just a soft, cuddly guy who’s warm to hug, that’s all.
Who the hell can quit fast food? It’s quick, easy—you’re in and out of the shop in no time. No need to waste time cooking yourself. In the rush of today’s working world, this hits the spot perfectly. Chomp.
Another big bite, not caring that sauce is smearing the corners of the mouth. Just wash it down with a drink, savor the break to the fullest before diving back into the chaos of dealing with picky customers.
“Today, it sounds like Sis Eim said a big client’s coming in… Ugh, I’m so done with these high-society types,” muttering to oneself while shaking the head, brushing the thought out of an already overloaded mind, and digging back into the food without a care for anyone else.
Finally, the massive burger is gone, the last fry swept into the mouth, and the Coke slurped dry. The young man with the charming name grabs a tissue to wipe his mouth with a rather appealing gesture…
It’d be even more appealing if he hadn’t just eaten like he didn’t care about looking cool.
“Alright, food time’s over.”
After finishing, a glance at the trusty watch shows there’s still about half an hour of break left. Sitting by the window, he props his chin on his hand and gazes out at the bustling mall outside.
A moment of calm for Namnuea.
But if anyone thinks he’s doing this to unwind amid the crowd, casually watching people pass by and guessing where they’re rushing off to, who they’re meeting, or what troubles they’re tangled in—just to reassure himself he’s not the only one grinding away in the capital city—they’d be dead wrong.
Because Namnuea… is checking out guys.
That one’s pretty hot, but probably plays for the same team. His big eyes catch a sharp-dressed guy in a suit, and he chuckles to himself. After all, he’s gay.
Not bi, not fluid, but full-on gay, through and through.
That guy’s got a wild vibe, but he’s probably got a wife.
Namnuea laughs harder at his own thoughts as a bearded guy struts by the glass, only to feel a pang of disappointment when a gorgeous woman clings to his arm.
After watching people for over fifteen minutes, finding no one particularly interesting or eye-catching enough to make his heart skip a beat, Namnuea stands up. Ever polite, he doesn’t wait for the busy lunchtime staff to clear his table. He takes his tray to the designated spot himself. But just as he’s about to turn and leave the restaurant— Freeze.
Oh, damn it, Nuea, you messed up big time!!!
The thought struck him when he glanced at a corner of the restaurant and saw a man sitting there, looking exactly like his type.
He’d wasted fifteen minutes staring outside the restaurant, unaware that there was something this fine right behind him all along.
Nuea mentally scolded himself. He hadn’t expected a handsome, tall, muscular man in a perfectly tailored suit— obviously custom-made—to be chilling in a fast-food joint like this. The more he stole glances, the more he noticed the man’s sharp, striking features: thick eyebrows, a prominent nose, and beautiful lips. Everything about him screamed perfect. Realizing this, Nuea pretended to walk back to his original table, acting as if he’d forgotten something. He glanced left and right, all while sneaking looks at the man taking a big bite of his hamburger.
He was seriously Nuea’s type.
Normally, guys with a build like that wouldn’t touch high-fat foods like this. No, they’d be chugging protein shakes or eating grilled chicken to bulk up their muscles—not sitting here eating junk food for Nuea’s eyes to feast on.
But that was it.
Nuea wasn’t the type to walk up and strike a conversation, fake-spill water on him, or brush past to “test his manliness.” He just sighed with regret for not looking inside the restaurant sooner and decided it was time to head back to work. But then— no way, please don’t let it be true—he turned to the front of the restaurant, and his round eyes froze. A stunning, perfect woman was walking in.
She had a gorgeous figure, flawless features, and was wearing a form-fitting dress with a Hermès bag slung over her shoulder. She stood there, looking left and right, making someone as perceptive as Namnuea mutter under his breath:
“This way.”
Had he ever misjudged something, Nuea?
The eye-candy of a man stood up, called out to the beautiful woman, and made her smile with relief. She walked straight toward him, and their greeting was far too familiar for mere friends. The onlooker let out a quiet sigh of disappointment. This guy’s definitely taken. But oh well, getting to ogle some prime eye-candy before tackling the afternoon’s work wasn’t bad.
In the end, the guy lingering in the restaurant decided to leave. Unbeknownst to him, the man he found so perfect watched his retreating figure and gave a faint smile.
The Wiwa Square was a large catering company, specializing in weddings and offering comprehensive wedding planning services. Its office was located in a high-rise in the business district, operating under the concept of “You dream it, we make it real.” The company was widely renowned as the go-to for anyone needing help with wedding planning, from small beachside ceremonies to lavish five-star hotel events in the heart of the city.
But it seemed like one of the company’s star employees was feeling particularly down.
“Nuea, what’s wrong with you? You came back and just slumped onto the desk.”
“Eim.”
“Ha, now you dare to call me by my name without adding ‘Sis’ or ‘Ma’am’?” The young organizer could only tilt his head up from the table, looking at his close colleague who was about to smack him with a rolled-up piece of paper, prompting him to clarify.
“I meant I’m full from eating, not calling the beautiful Sis Eim
‘full’ outright, really, I swear!”
“Go on then,” the stunning, well-built woman in her thirties flashed a sweet smile, making Namnuea flinch slightly.
He really didn’t dare mess with her. In front of clients, she smiled as sweet as honey, but with others, it was like she’d slit your throat with poison.
Rustle rustle
“Nuea, you went to eat at McDonald’s again, didn’t you?” “Uh, what’s wrong with that, Sis?” And her nose was ridiculously sharp, because now the stylishly dressed, well-built woman was yelling at him.
“What kind of gay guy are you, huh? You don’t even take care of yourself! Look, your belly’s this soft already!” She didn’t just talk—she grabbed his stomach and pinched it to show the excess fat, forcing him to jump up and step back to escape her redpainted nails, flashing a wide grin.
It’s soft, nice and cushy when hugged, Sis Eim.
“Fat or not, you should lose some weight, dude.”
“Come on, I may not be as slim as you, Sis, but I’ve got guys falling for me all the time… unlike…”
“Nuea!!!”
Time to run! Why wait for Sis Eim to grab a chair and throw it at him? He laughed softly but secretly lost a chunk of confidence.
Pinch
“I’m not even that fat. Sis Eim, you are just skinny as a board,” the young man pinched his own belly, confident that he was just well-proportioned. He just didn’t like working out, so he didn’t have tight muscles or firm flesh that would make guys of the same type swoon. Working in catering, tasting food for clients, and sneaking bites at events—it just made him a bit heavier than when he started, that’s all.
But about guys falling for him…
“It’s been over a year without a boyfriend, Nuea. Just working like this isn’t good for your mental or physical health, seriously,” he grumbled quietly as he walked to the bathroom, unable to stop thinking about the handsome guy he met at the fast-food restaurant.
If I could get a guy like that, I’d never let him go.
He thought while washing his hands, glancing at the mirror. If you ignore the fact that my cheeks are a bit round these days, I’m still pretty handsome, right?
Namnuea lives up to his name, “Nuea,” with strikingly fair skin—not the yellowish kind. His face has a hint of sweetness, small and delicate, with large eyes and well-maintained, vibrant lips. His soft, cuddly build and average Thai male height don’t make him particularly stand out, but overall, Namnuea is known as a good-looking guy who doesn’t openly reveal his sexual orientation.
“I can be a bit narcissistic, can’t I? Alright, back to work. I’ve got a client meeting this afternoon,” he said to himself, stepping out of the bathroom and heading toward the office. But then… No way… It can’t be! The guy from McDonald’s! A handsome man in a suit, standing with his hands in his pockets as if waiting for someone, made Namnuea’s little heart pound. But it wasn’t because he believed in fated love striking like lightning. Instead…
“Uh, are you here for something at Wedding Square?”
Thud
The man turned to look, pausing briefly before the corner of his undeniably sexy mouth curled into a faint smile.
Please don’t let it be true, please don’t… Not…
“Yes, I have an appointment at 1:30.”
…It’s true.
If he weren’t a professional, Namnuea would’ve deflated like a punctured floatie right then and there. But with his life motto echoing in his head, he flashed a businesslike smile and asked to confirm.
“Are you Yiwa?”
“I’m not Yiwa,” the man replied, giving Namnuea a flicker of hope, until…
“Yiwa is my bride.”
Crash
Even though he was more than half-prepared, hearing that this man—perfectly his type—was about to become a groom felt like the ground collapsing beneath his feet. He silently recited his personal slogan:
“There are only two types of good men, Nuea: those who aren’t someone’s husband… or those who are. This guy’s just a husband, that’s all.” Ugh, the pain in this little gay heart was real.
Leave a Reply