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Chapter Text

Jericho, 17, Debuts with Hit Song "Ruby"

Kongpob Sutthilak, better known by his stage name Jericho, has recently debuted as one of GMMp3's first solo artists. So far, his debut has been a great success, with millions of fangirls' hearts being captured immediately by his beautiful vocals and raw lyrics, not to mention his handsome appearance. Kept well-hidden from public eye, Kongpob had been training with GMMp3 for over four years before his debut; however, due to a want to continue traditional schooling, his training was made much more challenging, and there were times when he and GMMp3 feared he wouldn't debut.

Naowarat Atitarn, his manager, says this: "When I first heard him sing, I was immediately in shock. How could there be doubt of his debut with a voice like that? Of course, I didn't realize just how trying things were for him, and I definitely didn't consider how tough it would be for a mere twelve-year-old." When asked if there was a set time on his contract for how long he has to work with Jericho, Naowarat stated that he "can't disclose certain dates or information," but he has "hopes that [he] can work with Jericho for a very long time."

Watch the MV for "Ruby" here!

Download "Ruby" here!

Written by Kwang Chaiprasit. Edited by Phaibun Leekpai. Published 9 August 2015.

Naowarat Atitarn, Idol Jericho's Manager, No Longer Working with Jericho, Claims "Things Just Weren't Working Out"

18 September 2015

Pairote Sangsorn Hired as Jericho's Manager, "Excited to Work with Such a Talented Individual," He Says

29 September 2015

Any Managers for Hire? Pairote Sangsorn Quick to Go

12 February 2016

Jettrin Kaouthai Jericho's New Manager, Aiming for a Five Year Contract

21 February 2016

Despite Sweet Nature, Jericho Seems to Not Work Well with Managers: Jettrin Kaouthai Quits After Only Three Months

22 June 2016

Sunya Meesang Jericho's Hired as New Manager, Appears to Be Off to a Good Start

5 July 2016

So Long, Sunya: Welcome to the Ex Life

7 January 2017

Vit Omlamai Jericho's New Manager. To Wish Him Luck or Not to Wish Him Luck, that is the Question

30 January 2017

What Went Wrong? Long List of Jericho's Ex-Managers Grows Longer with the Resigning of Vit Omlamai

17 August 2017

New Strategy: Hire a Woman—Chompoo Kitjakarn on Being Jericho's Manager, In Spite of Different Genders

24 August 2017

Feminine Touch, But Not the Touch Needed: Chompoo Kitjakarn Leaves Position as Jericho's Manager After Just Nine Days

3 September 2017

Sarawut Maleenong: "It requires a certain type of insight into the life of the idol." What It's Like Being Jericho's Manager, and How to Last More than a Week

29 October 2017

The Rocky Relationship of Manager and Jericho: Meant to Last? Or Cursed from the Start? Sarawut Maleenong No Longer with Jericho, Worried for Future Managers

28 January 2018

Before even reading the letter, Arthit knows what it says. As soon as P'Pim dropped the letter on his desk with silent solemnity, an apologetic look in her honey-brown eyes, Arthit knew.

Mr. Rojnapat, he begins to read anyways, Thank you for your continued service to our company. You have been a vital asset in the productivity of everyone here, whether it be with your positivity or management skills. It is with a heavy heart that we must inform you of Mrs. Aromdee's return from maternity leave and ask that you resign. Please have your things packed and moved out by Monday.

Thank you again,
Kittikorn Leelapun, CEO.

That was Friday. Come Monday and Arthit is making sure the desk that was formerly his is entirely clear. P'Pim stands off to the side, legs rubbing together nervously, shifting the fabric of her dress and creating small swishing sounds. When Arthit deems the room ready, he turns to her. "Thank you for all your help; I couldn't have done it without you."

P'Pim tucks a short strand of hair behind her ear. "It was the least I could do. You've done so well and been so sweet. It'll be so different when you're gone. N'Arthit," she smiles, "you brought a different energy to our company. Thank you, really."

"Ah, P'," Arthit can't help but get embarrassed, "you're really too kind." He takes a glance at the clock on the wall, eyes widening when he realizes what time it is. "I should really go." He gives his ex-coworker a final wai. "Thank you again, P'Pim. I hope you have a good life."

P'Pim gives him a kind wai back. "You too, N'Arthit. I'll see you around sometime, okay?"

Arthit gives a quiet, "okay," back, ducking his head once in a short bow before walking past her through the door, out into the main building. "Sawasdee krub, P'Pim," Arthit says one last time.

P'Pim smiles and waves at him through the window. "Sawasdee ja."

Arthit stops once he's outside, turning to look back at the building filled with people he's come to know, friends he's come to make. Now, it's all gone. In his pocket, his phone vibrates. Quickly, Arthit pulls it out.

"Hello?" he asks, having not checked the caller ID.

"Hey! Arthit!" It's Bright. Arthit has to refrain from hanging up immediately.

"Ai'Bright!" he chides. "What is it?"

"Are you busy right now?" the other asks.

Arthit frowns. "No. Actually, about that, I—"

"Good," Bright interrupts him. "I need you to come help me with something. I'm at the bar."

"Really?" Arthit asks. "Now?" He hesitates, unsure whether or not what Bright needs help with is actually important. He sighs when the other confirms he wants Arthit to go now. "Fine. But! You need to pay me."

"Oh? What for?"

Arthit swallows. He wasn't fired. But that's the best he can say. Unless.... "I was replaced. I'm going to be a bit tight on money these next few weeks while I'm looking for a new job."

Bright takes a second to respond. "Okay. But only because you're my friend. If I didn't know you, you'd be out of luck."

Arthit shakes his head. "Of course." He hears shuffling from the other end. Before the other can hang up, Arthit stops him. "Ai'Bright! Before you hang up..., I just want to say," he licks his lips, "thank you."

"Ah?" Bright asks. "What are you thanking me for? Hurry up. I don't have all day."

Arthit nods, despite the other not being able to see him. "Okay. I'll be over there soon."

"Good," Bright says, "I'll see you." And then the line goes dead.

Arthit nods again, locking his phone and slipping it back into his pocket. He gives one last glance back at the building before turning and going on his way.

"Oh, you're here," Bright says, looking at him from over by the bar. "Good. Come count this for me." Arthit nods and makes his way over to the other man, spotting a pencil, notepad, and stacks of baht on the counter. "You know," Bright continues, "I hired this kid to do it for me, but I don't trust him. I don't trust you either, but I'd rather have you take my money than some brat."

Arthit sends the other a flat look, grabbing the pen and starting to count the cash. "Don't be ridiculous," he chides. "Like I'd want any of your money. Who knows how you got it?"

"Hey! Hey!" Bright frowns. "I got this money through this bar. It's my baby." He shakes his head. "No shady business here. I'm an honest man."

Arthit glances at him before going back to counting. "I'm sure."

Bright nods before going off to clean some tables.

"Arthit," he says when he moves back behind the counter, "why are you out of work?"

"My position was temporary," Arthit explains. "The woman who had it before me had to go on maternity leave. I took over for her."

"But you didn't have to work in the company at all?" Bright asks. "That's why big places like that are getting scammed. They hire people like you!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Arthit questions, looking at his friend. "I have all the qualifications. They even ran three background checks on me." He makes a motion with his hand. "Three!" He shakes his head. "It's fine, now. I can find work elsewhere. I'm not going to worry too much."

Bright pats him on the back. "That's the spirit, my friend. Keep talking like that, and I might even take pity on you and hire you to work for me."

Arthit sets down the cash he'd been holding, looking over to the other. "In your dreams!" he shouts. He marks down that he's on the next stack. "Either way, I might head home for some time. I haven't visited my parents in awhile. I should let them know how I'm doing."

"Is that wise?" Bright asks. "You just lost your job. No man wants his son coming home just to tell him that."

"Like you can speak about being wise!" Arthit scolds. He sighs, setting down the pen and handing the other the notepad. "Here," he says, "that should be it." He glances to the stacks. "Maybe I should take some. How do I know you'll pay me?"

Bright cocks his head as he reads over the numbers. "Have I ever been anything but a man of my word?" He looks at the money before nodding and setting down the notepad. "It's good," he says. "Thanks. Now," he grabs a couple of bills from one of the stacks, "take this. You're lucky I'm in good business right now; otherwise, you'd get much less than this."

Arthit looks down at the money his friend placed in his hand. "What am I supposed to do with this?" he asks. "Fifty baht? That'll last me less than half a week! No. Half a day!"

"Maybe," Bright suggests, grabbing the money back, "you should start spending less, then." He shakes his head and grabs more. (Much more, Arthit is pleased to note.) "Here," he tries again, "Twenty thousand. Is that enough, huh?"

Arthit takes the money. "It's fine." He counts it quickly before pulling out his wallet.

"Ah, uh, Ai'Bright," he says suddenly as he's walking out of the bar, "if you have any other jobs like that where you need my help," he looks away, "I can help." Bright opens his mouth, but Arthit interrupts him. "But don't take that to mean you're better than me!" Bright shuts his mouth.

"Okay," he says.

Arthit nods before leaving.

He hears about it in an email from Knott, who had been helping him on his hunt for jobs.

Its pay is a lot more than what you had been previously making, his friend informs him, with up to 2 million baht a year. Maybe even more than that, depending on the continued success of this kid. The only thing is that it's a lot of work. He's got this thing where his manager doubles as his assistant. And there's a bad rep there due to his inability to keep a manager.

But I know you can do it. You're the right kind of man for this job, Ai'Arthit. Reply as soon as you've made up your mind. This is looking to be your best option.

Knott

Arthit closes his eyes and leans back, rubbing his hands over his face. He knows nothing of celebrity life. Could he really take on this job successfully? He's sure some of that email was Knott buttering him up. But.... He reads over the possible pay again. It's a lot. He could live comfortably for years with that kind of pay. He glances to the clock on the wall.

Mind made up, he types up a response to Knott.

He's discussing a future photoshoot with Wad when Maprang gives him a tap on the shoulder. "Your newest manager is here," she says, reading over something on her tablet. She looks up at him then. "Try to keep him for more than eight months. He's cute."

Kongpob smiles sheepishly. "I'll try. Where is he?"

Maprang goes back to her tablet, pointing in the direction of the hall. "In my office. I'm having him read over your schedule before he does anything else. Just wait here." She locks the tablet, tucking her stylus behind her ear. "After he's finished, I want you to join me in giving him a tour of the building."

Kongpob nods, and she nods back, dismissing him to go back to conversing with Wad. Maprang turns and goes back to her office.

Thirty minutes later, she comes out, a man following behind her.

Kongpob smiles at them when they come to a stop in front of him, exchanging greetings with his new manager. "Is everything all sorted?" he asks them.

Maprang nods. "You're free to lead the way."

Together, the trio heads off, Maprang back on her tablet, Kongpob introducing everyone and everything, and Arthit trying to retain as much information as possible.

Chapter Text

It's been three weeks since Arthit's began working with Kongpob, and the younger is steadily beginning to see the elder's true personality. Or, at least, a different side of the man.

"You came at a good time," he had told Arthit as they were touring the building.

"What do you mean?" the other had asked him.

Maprang glanced up from her tablet. "Sarawut luckily left right before Kongpob's schedule cleared up, so you don't really have to be on top of things too much right now." She tapped something on her screen. "You can ease your way into it."

"I swear it's not that hard, P'," Kongpob reassured the elder when he saw the confused look on his face. "Really, once you develop a routine, it's pretty easy on out."

Arthit's expression turned flat. "I've been a manager before. The only thing I'm confused about is the personal assistant thing. What exactly does that entail?" It's clear he was asking Maprang, but it was Kongpob who answered, causing Arthit's face to screw up more.

"You'll have to be with me a lot," Kongpob answered. "And make sure you remember any allergies or medical conditions I have." He paused. "I don't have any, by the way."

Arthit looked him up and down briefly. "Could've fooled me," he murmured.

Maprang didn't hear, and Kongpob ignored it, continuing on: "You'll be in charge of grocery shopping and booking hotels and sometimes making phone calls or setting up meetings." He tilted his head. "It overlaps a lot with your duties as a manager."

Arthit pursed his lips. "I see," he had replied.

Since then, the elder seems to have only gotten colder. Kongpob isn't sure if it's his real personality, but it's definitely more him than whoever that person was that walked into the building on Thursday. Kongpob can't tell if he likes it or hates it.

It's as he's working on a new song that the elder approaches him.

"What is that?" Arthit asks, nudging him with his shoe.

Kongpob looks up, tucking the pen into the notebook. "Oh, P'Arthit," he looks down at the book, the unfinished lyrics, "just a song I'm working on. Do you want to hear it?"

Arthit purses his lips. "No, thanks. Actually, Kongpob, I came to tell you that you have an interview scheduled with DUAL Magazine on Saturday. It's after the meeting with N'Wad and his team." He motions to the notebook open on Kongpob's lap. "Don't slouch when you write. I'll have to tape a meter stick to your back if you keep sitting like that."

Kongpob smiles, straightening out his posture. "Okay, then, P'Arthit. Is that all?"

The elder nods. "Er. You can get back to writing." Kongpob nods back before the elder scolds him again: "And quit with the slouching!" Kongpob straightens his back one more time. Arthit studies him for a second before deeming his posture is fine and walking away, leaving Kongpob alone with his lyrics.

Saturday comes much too quick, and Arthit finds himself jotting down the last notes of the meeting with N'Wad before shutting the legal pad and tucking it into his bag. He caps the pen he'd been writing with and places it carefully in his shirt pocket. From across the table, Kongpob meets his eyes. Arthit nods, and, after politely exchanging goodbyes with everyone in the room, the two leave to go to Kongpob's interview.

"Her name is Yihwa Punyawong. She's been at this company for twelve years; she's more on the talkative side. She likes starting rumors," Arthit says, and then he pauses. "Kongpob," he begins, looking to the younger with a steady gaze.

Kongpob stares back. "What is it, P'Arthit?"

Arthit licks his lips, figuring this should be the first test Kongpob endures. "You know what girls like, right?"

Kongpob looks confused. "What?"

"You know," Arthit urges, "what girls like about idols."

Kongpob shakes his head, leaning away some. "What do they like?"

"They like you," Arthit says. "They want you. They won't want something that's been tampered with." He pauses, making sure he has the younger's eyes on him. "You get what I'm saying, right?"

Kongpob swallows, and Arthit watches the way his Adam's apple bobs with the movement. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Arthit refrains from rolling his eyes. "So Khun Yihwa is going to want the details. She'll want the details. But you can't give her anything, okay?" He holds back a smile when he sees he still has Kongpob's full attention. "Even if you've done something with anyone, you say you haven't. Okay?"

"But, P'Arthit, I—"

"You don't want to disappoint a million girls, right, Kongpob?" Arthit questions, leaning back in his chair.

Kongpob licks his lips, teeth gnawing at his lower lip, as he looks away briefly. Finally, he shakes his head. "Okay, P'. I don't."

Arthit pats the younger on the knee. "Good. Make sure to respond with that if she asks."

Jericho Confirms He Is Single... and Also Untainted!

A recent interview with popular idol Jericho has confirmed that he in fact has no girlfriend and that he's untouched, totally pure. (How romantic for the lucky girl that gets him, right?) A blushing darling, Jericho has managed to capture our hearts once again with his sweet personality and charming face. Who knows what else we will learn about this cutie in the next few weeks?

Click here to see the full article as published in DUAL Magazine!

Written by Yihwa Punyawong. Edited by Sangrawee Narkbunnum. Published 4 March 2018.

Anonymous said:
That's so cute that he's a virgin!!!! I wonder what he'd be like in bed (๑>◡<๑)

jerichosgirl17 replied: OMG I know right!!?!? He's so handsome too 
so he probably doesn't even need experience >///<

QueenK2219 replied: what is wrong with u guys!!! Obviously he's lying, 
like a guy like him would be a virgin nowadays......

HaniSweets said:Is it really ok to talk about these things though????? I don't want to offend him ^^

honeyjericho replied: he knew what he was getting into when he 
became an idol ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) fantasize away girl!!!

Anonymous said:
I don't know what I'd do if he had a gf..... I think id die!!!!!!

jerichosgf replied: same, why do u think i chose this username?? 
so another girl could date him?? no way!!!!!!

Leela said:
Does anyone else think it's kinda sad that he's never been with a girl before? What if its bc some contract says he cant... idk if i could do that

ginagina12 replied: omg your right.. Thats actually rly sad!

Arthit doesn't say anything about the interview; he doesn't even praise Kongpob nor chastise him. When Kongpob reads the article and hands the tablet over to Arthit, the elder still doesn't say anything. He just takes the device wordlessly and reads over them himself. He hands it back easily and shrugs. Kongpob remains standing by his side. Finally, Arthit looks at him. "What is it?" he asks.

Kongpob stares back, eyes locked right on Arthit's. "How was it? Was it okay? Are you angry at me?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Arthit scoffs. "What do I have to be angry at you for? You did as I said. And," he motions to one of the comments, "with only miniscule disapproval."

"So you're happy?" Kongpob asks.

Arthit purses his lips and goes back to flipping through some papers. "I didn't say that either."

Kongpob presses his lips together before nodding once and setting down the tablet. "Okay," he says, "okay, then." He takes a seat next to the elder. "What now?"

Arthit shrugs. "That's what I'm figuring out. For now," he looks to the younger, "you're free to go."

The idol is about to stand before hesitating, instead settling back into his spot next to Arthit's side. "You know what?" he asks rhetorically, making the elder glance over at him. Kongpob leans back into the couch cushion, going so far as to even stretch an arm out behind his senior. "I think I'd rather just stay here, then." He rolls his head on his neck to look at Arthit. "With you," he adds on.

Arthit's brows furrow as he gives the younger a disturbed look, head swiveling to look at the arm that's come to rest on the back of the couch. He scoots forward so he's seated on the edge of the cushion. "Hey," he chides, "don't be weird."

"What do you mean, P'Arthit?" Kongpob asks, knowing full well what the elder means, the smile on his lips giving it away.

Arthit shudders and moves to sit on one of the chairs across from him. "Forget it," he says.

Kongpob merely continues to smile, arm still across the back of the sofa.

It's two weeks after the interview that Kongpob learns Arthit really loves spicy food, but, even more than that, he loves torturing Kongpob.

"Really?" Arthit asks when Kongpob rattles off his meal. "Your taste is so babyish. How can you eat such bland food?"

For the most part, they've been eating separately, Arthit usually going off to get food while Kongpob is writing songs or practicing guitar, things that Arthit doesn't need to be there for. Kongpob, meanwhile, gets food when Arthit is away, either scheduling things or in meetings that Kongpob doesn't need to be in. Either way, in the end, neither knew the tastes of the other. Until now, of course.

Arthit is still going on about how sissy Kongpob's meal choice is when the waitress arrives back with their drinks. An iced coffee for Kongpob and a....

"Pink milk? I never took you as the type," Kongpob says, lifting a brow at the other's drink choice. They had ordered drinks separately, Arthit having arrived before Kongpob in order to secure a table. Clearly, Arthit didn't think this all the way through.

"Hey!" Arthit scolds. "What are you saying?"

Kongpob inspects him for a second before taking a sip of his coffee. "Nothing, P'. In fact, I think it suits you."

Arthit grits his teeth. "Are you making fun of me, Kongpob?"

The younger tilts his head. "Make fun of you? What for?"

Arthit scowls, but he doesn't say anything till their food arrives.

"Here, Kongpob," he says, looking at the younger, "let me take this as a chance, as your manager and assistant, to teach you a couple of things. First," he cocks his head, "you do know how hard it is to get a grain of rice, don't you?"

Whatever way this is going, Kongpob doesn't trust it. "Yes," he answers anyways, "I know."

"Then...," Arthit glances down at the food in front of them before going back to Kongpob, "you should show your gratitude for it. Afterall, girls like a man who is humble and who is aware of and can appreciate hard work."

Kongpob's grip around his utensils tightens with Arthit's next question: "You know how to pray before eating, right?" The metal digs into the idol's skin, leaving red indents.

Kongpob nods anyways. "Yes," he repeats, "I know."

Arthit nods, a small smile playing on his lips. "Good. Then you should show everyone that you appreciate your rice."

Kongpob only kind of wants to choke the elder with his spoon. He doesn't, and instead, he lets a breath and braces himself for humiliation. He still hesitates, however, leading to a taunt from the elder. He shakes his head before reciting:

"Every dish of your rice.

(A few nearby patrons look over at the pair.)

Every dish of your food.

(One of them snaps a picture.

Kongpob swallows.)

Do not waste it. Every bit of it is valuable.

(He notices someone else has started filming.)

There are many people, he continues on anyways, who have nothing to eat, and there are many innocent kids..., his eyes lock onto Arthit, despite the other not looking at him but rather the other customers. Kongpob doesn't care; he keeps his gaze on the elder.

... who still go hungry," he finishes. The crowd begins to disperse as he lifts his fork and spoon to dig into his meal. But, of course, his manager stops him.

"Hold on," Arthit says, eyes now back on him. At Kongpob's questioning look, Arthit picks up his plate and leans across the table to take Kongpob's plate and place his meal down instead. "Okay," he says once he's set down the younger's plate in front of himself, "now that dish belongs to you."

"What for?" Kongpob asks, unsure what the elder wants him to apparently learn from this.

"Well," Arthit answers easily, "my dish is full of nutrients, with the chicken, basil, and egg, unlike yours. As an idol, you're supposed to stay healthy and fit. What I was going to eat is obviously the better option."

Kongpob purses his lips but picks up his utensils anyways. "Fine, then. Thank you."

Arthit watches him take a bite. Kongpob can feel the heat beginning to burn his tongue, his lips, his throat, and that was without anything added to it.

"How is it?" the elder asks.

Kongpob hates it. "It's good," is what comes out instead.

"Really?" Arthit questions. "I thought the food here when I came last week was a bit bland. Here," he scoops out a spoonful of sliced chili peppers (are you serious?), placing them all over the chicken and egg. Arthit adds another spoonful. "The more the better," he explains.

Kongpob begins to wonder if two days straight of nothing but choreo would hurt more or less than this. He takes a bite and quickly comes to a conclusion: It would hurt so much less.

Finally, long after Arthit has finished eating, Kongpob finishes the meal. There are still chili peppers on his plate, he knows, and he hopes and prays Arthit doesn't make him eat those standalone. Luck must finally be on his side, because when he says he's done, Arthit merely nods and waves a hand for the bill.

"I'm sorry, P'Arthit," Kongpob says when the elder hands the waitress the proper amount of cash.

"Huh?" Arthit asks, looking to the younger. "What for?"

"I don't understand what your lesson was supposed to be," Kongpob answers honestly.

Arthit studies him for a second before nodding. "I see. Well, Kongpob," he says, shaking his near-empty cup of pink milk, ice sloshing around loudly, "it's to further build your image. Eating bland, sissy food like minced pork omelette over rice... that's really not something girls like. And, as you said, you want to please your fans. Well, wouldn't it be more pleasing for girls to imagine you as someone manly? Who can protect them?"

"What does me protecting them have to do with spicy food?" Kongpob asks.

Arthit takes a sip of his drink. "I already said. Eating spicy food looks more manly than some bland tasting dish. Okay?"

Kongpob doesn't believe him, but he nods anyways. "Okay."

After the "I'm a virgin" interview and the meal from Hell, along with a few other stunts, Kongpob finally gets a break from his senior's torture.

"Are you sure he's a good manager if he's making you do these things?" Kongpob's co-producer and closest friend, Aim, asks one day when their working on Kongpob's newest album.

Kongpob shrugs. "He's the only one who doesn't seem to have quitting or getting fired always on his mind. Also, I don't think he does it all out of cruel intent; some of his ideas actually do benefit me." He takes a sip from his water bottle. "I don't see anything wrong with keeping him longer. I'm curious as to what else he can come up with."

Aim inspects him with a critical eye before shaking his head and adjusting the microphone. "Whatever you say, Kong. I still think you're crazy."

The idol tilts his head briefly, just a quick left-right, before strumming his guitar once. "Maybe," he says when the sound dies out.

Chapter Text

"Hey, Kongpob," Arthit says, holding up a printed-out article from the Internet, "have you seen this?"

Kongpob takes the paper from his manager, eyes scanning it over. "No," he says when he's done reading, "should I have?"

"It would've been nice," Arthit replies. "Your schedule is clear that day. Since we're ending your resting period, I was thinking of adding it to your itinerary."

Kongpob reads over the article again. "Really?" he asks. At the elder's look, he lets out a breath and nods. "Okay. I can do it."

Arthit takes the paper back from him. "Good. I'll call and let them know, then." He's about to turn and walk away when he stops. "Oh, and, Kongpob?" he says, making the younger look to him.

"What is it, P'Arthit?" the younger responds.

"If you join," Arthit begins, "which you will, you'll need to win every event." He faces the younger. "You know that, right?"

Kongpob swallows. Another one of Arthit's lessons. He glances away briefly before nodding. "I know."

"Good," Arthit says, turning back around to walk out.

Before he can fully step out, however, Kongpob is calling him back in.

"P'Arthit," Kongpob says in response to the elder's what? "If I win every event...," he slowly raises his eyes under his lashes to meet Arthit's, "then I will get to ask for a favor from you."

Arthit scoffs, lifting a brow. "Really? What for?" he queries. "I'm already your manager. You ask me to do things everyday."

"Maybe," Kongpob agrees, "but this will be different." He meets the elder's gaze. "Not work-related."

Arthit tilts his chin up at him. "You're crazy," he says, but then he lets out a breath, shakes his head, and adds: "but fine. I'll take the deal." Kongpob breaks into a smile, but by then, Arthit is already turning around and making his way out of the room.

"Is he really that bad?" Knott asks when he and Arthit meet for lunch on Wednesday.

"Yes!" Arthit nods. "Of course! But I'm not quitting," he adds quickly when he sees the other's look. "It's fine. He's irritating as hell, but I can manage."

Knott takes a sip of his drink before nodding. "Er, er," he says. "If you say so."

Arthit nods. "I do say so."

They finish lunch quickly after that, Arthit checking the time while doing so. "Shit, Knott!" he curses. "I'm almost late." He looks to the other. "You said you came on your motorcycle, right?"

Knott nods.

Arthit lets out a breath. "Can you give me a ride? You know I normally don't ask for stuff like this."

Knott studies him for a second before nodding. "All right. Okay, okay. I will." When they reach the bike, Knott tosses his friend a helmet. "Hurry up. Get on."

Arthit straps on the helmet before swinging his leg over the seat. "Thanks again," he says before Knott nods once and starts up the motorcycle. He lifts the kickstand, and then the pair is off on their way.

"Two weeks, okay? That's when will have lunch again." Knott confirms when Arthit gets off the bike, placing the helmet on the back.

"Yeah, of course," Arthit agrees, taking a step back. "That's fine."

The two share a nod before Knott drives away.

Arthit turns to enter the building, only to see Kongpob waiting for him outside.

"Hey, Kongpob!" Arthit scolds. "What are you standing outside for?" He looks around. "What if someone spotted you?"

Kongpob uncrosses his arms and makes his way to the older man, smile on his face. "Really? No one's around, P'. Unless you want something to happen to me?"

"It'd be better than having to deal with you all day," Arthit responds easily, re-adjusting his bag.

Kongpob merely continues to smile, finally lifting his sunglasses to put them on the top of his head. "Come on," he says, "you should get inside." He holds out a hand between them. "Don't want you to get sunburned."

Arthit ignores the hand. "I'm not going to get sunburned," he says.

"Of course not," Kongpob agrees easily, following after him as the elder pushes open the entrance doors.

No GF? No problem! Jericho still captures the essence of romance in new hit single "For You"

Much like he did three years ago, Jericho has managed to win our hearts once again. Though he claims to not have a girlfriend, he sure seems to be good with romance! What seems to be a giant thank you turned plea for love, Jericho layers rich vocals with smooth guitar and soft piano. It's a shift from the bright synth of his last album, but is anyone really complaining? (We certainly aren't!)

Keep an eye out for Jericho's next album, Glass Box, coming out April 20th!

Watch the MV for "For You" here!

Download "For You" here!

Written by Ama Srisati. Edited by Porntip Rojumanong. Published 3 April 2018.

"Are you performing 'For You' at the event?" Arthit asks a few days after the release of the song's music video.

Kongpob shakes his head. "No, I think I'm doing something different. Don't worry about it, P'Arthit," he adds when he sees the other's concerned look.

"Fine, then," Arthit shifts easily into the stern person he usually is. "Just be ready by the thirtieth, okay?"

Kongpob nods with a small smile on his lips. "Okay, P'Arthit." Out of an unusual sign of respect, he gives the other a wai as the elder leaves, making Arthit hesitate.

"Say, Kongpob," he says hesitantly, "what are you working on?"

Kongpob's smile grows tighter. "Just a song, P'Arthit."

Arthit pauses, eyes slowly going from left to right, tongue peeking out from pink lips before disappearing again as the elder nods his head. "Okay, then. Keep doing that."

Kongpob nods back, eyes staying on his manager as the other exits the room. He lets out a breath at the unfinished lyrics in his notebook. Twenty-three days. He can do this.

Arthit doesn't know how he let it happen. One minute, he was going over Kongpob's schedule, checking for any inconsistencies, the next, he's got Maprang banging at his door, telling him to meet one of the higher ups because there's been an inconsistency.

Cautiously, Arthit knocks on the door to Deer's office. "Sawasdee krub, Khun Deer," he begins when the elder opens the door, giving the older man a polite wai. Deer nods at him before letting him inside.

"Sawasdee, Khun Arthit," the elder responds once Arthit is seated in front of him. Deer taps his pen to his desk twice before setting it down and picking up some papers.

"Arthit," he says, dropping the formalities, "what is this?" He hands the younger the papers.

Emails, transcripts of phone calls, screenshots of LINE messages. Arthit swallows. "My conversations with some of the companies I contact for interviews and the like." It's hard to get the words out.

Deer nods. "Have you noticed, ever, that you have been leaning towards certain companies over others?"

"I—what are you saying?" Arthit can't help but ask.

Deer lets out a sigh, leaning forwards as he laces his fingers together on top of the desk. "Are you being biased? Is there something I'm missing? Do you realize you've scheduled a physical interview the same time as one via phone?"

"I what?" Arthit had not realized he'd done that. "I'm sorry; I didn't know. I can fix it."

Deer purses his lips. "See to it. And try not to do it again or show bias. Or whatever it had been that you were doing."

Arthit nods. "Of course, Khun Deer."

"I don't want to put you on probation, N'Arthit," Deer tells him.

"Yes, Khun Deer." He stands. "Is there anything else?"

Deer shakes his head, and Arthit gives him a wai. It's as he's about to walk out that Deer stops him. "Wait. N'Arthit."

The younger turns back around. "Yes, Khun Deer?"

The elder smiles kindly. "You can call me P'."

Arthit is momentarily speechless. When he regains his words, he gives another wai. "Thank you, P'Deer."

As soon as he has the door shut behind him, he lets out a breath. He gives himself a moment before pulling out his phone.

"Ah, hello, is this Areumda Studios? Yes, this is Arthit Rojnapat calling on behalf of the interview with Jericho...."

He's been working non-stop for the past thirteen hours. Arthit knows this purely because his conversation with Deer was at eleven in the morning, and now it's midnight. He lets out a breath as he leans back in his chair. He's turned off the overhead lights and instead turned on the lamp on his desk, its soft light giving the room a warm glow. He closes his eyes before sitting up again and looking down at the list of companies he's been contacting.

Most are crossed out, and the few that aren't luckily aren't his top priority. A knock on his door startles him.

"Yes?" he calls out.

The door opens, and in steps Deer.

Arthit straightens up immediately, giving the elder a respectful wai. "P'Deer, what are you doing here?"

"I was about to leave when I noticed you're still here," the older man says. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, uh," he picks up the list to show the elder, "I've been double-checking Kongpob's schedule and making sure everything will run smoothly these next few weeks."

"It's late," Deer says, handing Arthit the list back. "You should get some rest."

Arthit nods. "Yes, of course." He nods again. "Thank you, P'Deer."

Deer gives him a tight-lipped smile before wishing him a goodnight and leaving, door swinging shut behind him. Arthit lets out a breath when he's done. "Okay," he says to himself, looking down at the papers scattered across his desk, "okay." He begins to pack up.

Kongpob's not sure how long he's been in the studio's practice room. All he knows is that it's late. He sets down his guitar. "I'm going to check and see if we're the only ones here," he tells Aim, his friend lowering the volume on the keyboard he's been messing with. The other nods, raising the volume back up when Kongpob goes to leave.

Kongpob shuts the door carefully behind him, walking down the hall. Most of the offices' lights are off. Most, but not all. He stops when he hears Deer's voice. When he sees the shadows under the door move, he hides in a little alcove used as a little resting place, two chairs and a small table taking up the space.

It's only until after a couple of minutes have passed since he heard Deer exit and go a different direction down the hall that Kongpob comes out of his hiding place.

Only to run straight into Arthit.

"Kongpob!" Arthit scolds when he nearly crashes into the younger. "What are you doing here?"

"I was going to get some water before going back to the practice room down the hall," he answers, semi-truthfully.

Arthit lets out a breath before pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. "Okay, well, hurry up, and, also, get some rest soon. You're about to be very busy very soon."

He continues to chastise the younger, but all Kongpob can focus on is the way his hair looks when down. He kind of wants to touch it. Run his fingers through it. See if it's as soft as it looks.

The lightbulb in his mind begins to flicker.

Arthit keeps reprimanding him.

"P'Arthit," Kongpob says suddenly, making the elder stop mid-sentence and look at him with furrowed brows. Kongpob smiles and leans in close. "When you are angry...," he can't stop himself now; the words flow out on their own, "your expression is quite cute."

He stands straight once more.

The flickering in his mind has now turned into a steady light.

"For you to say things like that," Arthit scoffs and shakes his head, "get some sleep, Kongpob."

He walks hurriedly away, leaving Kongpob to stare after his silhouette as it disappears down the long hallway.

The light can only grow stronger now.

Aim is sitting alone in the practice room, messing around with keyboard and wondering what's taking his friend so long, when his phone pings with a notification.

Forget about staying late, the text he received reads. I'm scrapping it. Came up with something better.

Aim lets out a sigh as he thinks about the five other drafts Kongpob had written for this song.

I wonder, Kong, he thinks, turning off the keyboard and unplugging it from the wall, who's finally managed to get your heart all in a mess like this. He thinks of the girls he and the other had met, every singer and celebrity with a pretty face and nicer body; if none of them managed to capture the attention of the idol... "Then who has?" Aim asks aloud, shaking his head before walking out of the room, making sure the door is shut behind him.

Chapter Text

Friday, December 18th, 2015

It's a weekend he has free. The first weekend he has free, actually.

Debuting at seventeen, it's made him begin to blend being an idol with being at school, leaving him unable to properly finish traditional schooling. He can still do it well enough, clearly; it's just a lot more work.

But his company wanted him on screens fast, faster than he expected.

It's okay, though. At the school he's attending, he's met two ex-trainees, Maprang and Aim, both still planning to work within the industry, just not as idols, and an idol who debuted at sixteen, just a year before him, Praepailin. They're all nice and cool, and he enjoys spending time with them.

So much so that, with this free weekend, he's using it to go on a trip to the beach with them. They're going with a handful of other students, a fair blend of juniors and seniors. It's just for fun, a good bonding activity, but as soon as they get to the beach, everyone splits and goes off to do their own thing. Kongpob finds himself with his friend group in a little beach hut, the four of them talking amicably until there's a knock at the door.

They all pause, turning to look at the door. Eventually, it's Kongpob who moves to open the door. On the other side is Oak, a nerdy-looking guy in glasses, someone who looks like he's quiet when, in reality, it's the opposite.

He's holding a case of something that looks suspiciously like—

"Is that alcohol?" Aim asks from behind them.

Kongpob turns around to look at him, and when Oak shushes him, pushing past Kongpob to get into the room, the other's suspicions are confirmed. He closes his eyes for a second, wondering if he's really going to let them get away with this, before shaking his head, glancing outside briefly, and shutting the door.

Oak has already managed to pass cans to Maprang and Prae and is handing one to Aim when Kongpob sits back down.

"And for you," the bespectacled boy says, giving one to Kongpob.

The teen stares at the drink in his hands before giving the other a tight-lipped smile and saying his thanks. He pops it open and takes a sip.

Gross. He looks at the others in the room; Maprang drinks hers easily, Prae seems to be thinking the same thing as Kongpob, Aim is chugging his, for some stupid reason, and Oak is already giving Maprang another can.

Aim nudges Kongpob when he notices the other hasn't been drinking much. "Hey, don't look so down. People're going to think you're depressed or something."

"I'm not depressed," Kongpob says to him. "I just don't really like it."

"Who cares?" Oak asks. "You'll start to like it after awhile."

"Really?" Prae questions. She lifts her can. "I don't think I can stomach much more."

Kongpob tilts his drink to her, giving Aim a see? look. The other boy merely shrugs.

Luckily, Kongpob manages to remain pleasantly buzzed over completely smashed like it appears his friends are getting. (His strategy has been to just set his can down closer to the center, so it gets harder to distinguish which one is his or how many he's had as their collection of empty cans has grown.)

He's getting a bit concerned over how loose-lipped his friends are starting to be, however.

"And he's so hot!" Maprang is saying. "Sometimes I just want to rip off his shirt and lick down his abs—no! Lick all the way to—"

Aim cuts her off. "No! I can't listen to this! No way."

"Why not?" Maprang asks. "Are you jealous? H'm?"

Aim stutters out a negative, already ruddy cheeks growing even redder.

Oak shakes his head. "I'm going to have girls hanging off me in university, you know?" He flexes his arm, consequently spilling some of his drink on his sleeve. Kongpob winces, but Oak doesn't even notice. "It'll be great. They'll all want a piece of this, I swear!"

"Yeah, right!" Aim argues. "They'd rather get with a tree than you!"

"Oh, really?" Oak questions. He looks to the girls. "What do you ladies think? I'll be a total girl-magnet in university, don't you think?"

Maprang laughs, shaking her head, as Prae takes another sip of her drink before leaning forward. "Actually," she says, "I can't answer that."

"Oh?" Oak asks. "And why not?"

"Because," Prae lets out a small giggle, "I don't even like guys."

The room goes silent.

Kongpob sits up straighter.

"What?" Aim asks.

"Yeah," Prae says. She doesn't even seem aware of the change in the room. Kongpob kind of wants to tell her to stop talking. But.... He looks around. There's a good amount of empty cans; everyone but him will likely not remember this. He shakes his head. It's not his place to stop her.

"I've just...," Prae hiccups, "always been more about girls, I guess." She shrugs easily. "I don't know. Guys are cool. Like, I think Kong is really nice," she tilts her can towards said teen, making him look away, "but I just don't feel that way about them."

When Maprang scoots away some, Prae laughs and hits her jokingly on the arm. "I wouldn't get a crush on you, though!" She keeps laughing, and, eventually, the others join in, too.

The night carries on like normal, Prae's confession getting buried under booze and Maprang's rapidly escalating fantasies.

Sunday, April 8th, 2018

Kongpob doesn't think anyone else remembers Praepailin's words from that night. He hasn't talked to her in awhile. The last message having been sent by her, wishing him luck with... who was it? He opens their LINE conversation. Oh, right. She had been wishing him luck with Vit Omlamai.

He lets out a breath. She should be the first person he talks to about this. She knows the most, he's sure of it. But....

2/2/17 stares back at him.

Kongpob lets out another breath. He's not losing sleep over this.

He taps the conversation.

The cursor blinks up at him intimidatingly. After some thought, he types.

Hey, he says.

He closes his eyes.

Only a few minutes later, he gets a reply.

Hi, Kong, the message says. Long time, no talk :) are you ok?

Kongpob locks his screen. He's left in the dark.

Finally, he unlocks the phone.

Sorry, he writes, I'm physically ok, 555

He adds a sticker for good measure.

Even after that, however, his phone begins to vibrate with an incoming call.

"Hi," he greets.

"Kongpob," Prae says, "what's wrong?"

"How's the song coming along?" Arthit asks, dropping a few papers down in front of Kongpob, along with an iced coffee. "The drink is only because of my job," the elder adds when the younger gives him a sly grin.

The idol accepts the drink, anyways, taking a long sip. "Okay. I'm pretty sure I have the lyrics done. Aim is just helping me with the instruments.."

"Good," his manager says. "Are you going to let me listen to it?"

Kongpob's answer is another drink of his coffee.

Arthit scowls before his expression morphs into confusion. "You're usually the one begging me to listen to your songs. Why not this time?"

"It's a surprise," the younger answers easily. He sets down his drink. "Why? Do you want to hear it?"

The elder splutters for a second before shaking his head. "It's fine. Keep being weird. I'm just here to make sure you're getting everything done, anyways."

Kongpob can't stop the smile that spreads on his lips. "Of course, P'."

"So you're done?" Aim asks, taking off his headphones.

"Here," is Kongpob's answer, the older of the two handing over the lyrics easily.

Aim reads over them, eyes widening the more he goes.

"Kong," he says, "these are kind of...."

"I know," Kongpob replies. "What do you think?"

"They're good," Aim answers honestly, "but they seem kind of personal."

"I don't think it will be on the album," Kongpob says. "They are personal, and I want the person they're about... to know that," he smiles, "they're special."

Aim looks lost. "Right," he says, anyways, "okay." He shakes his head. "Whoever she is, she must be lucky to get you to like her."

Kongpob merely smiles, tight-lipped and quiet.

His friend sets down the lyrics on the desk. He rubs his hands together. "Okay, then," he says, "ready to make some music?"

Prae reads over the lyrics easily, eyes scanning the paper quickly. She hands them back to the other. "Do you think it's a good idea?"

"It'll be fine," Kongpob says. "Besides, people would like for us to sing together. Did you look at Twitter?"

Prae laughs easily. "Yes. May always gets on me about that."

"May?" Kongpob asks.

Prae nods. "She's my assistant. You can meet her at the competition."

Kongpob smiles. "That's good. So what do you think? Will you help me?"

Prae licks her lips, looking away from the other, before eventually nodding. "Fine. But you need to help me with my song, too."

The smile on the man's face only grows. "Of course."

"The day before the competition, and I still haven't heard the song," Arthit says. "You're really cutting it close, Kongpob."

He can't miss this opportunity. Kongpob leans closer to the elder, going so far as to shift in his seat and scoot as close to Arthit as his seatbelt lets him. "Are you saying," he begins, a cheeky smile growing on his lips, "that you're worried about me?"

"Who says they're worried about you, huh?" Arthit asks immediately, an eyebrow raised. "Crazy."

Kongpob sits back. "It'll be fine," he says. "I'm also getting some help." He closes his eyes. "You'll enjoy it, P'Arthit. Trust me."

He opens his eyes to see Arthit point a finger at him. "Fine, but only this once!"

Kongpob nods, looking out the window. "Oh, and, P'Arthit?" He moves his gaze to the man.

The elder turns to him. "What is it?"

"Don't forget about our agreement."

Arthit stares at him for a second before his expression turns sour. "How could I? I don't want to owe you anything."

Kongpob smiles cheerfully back in response until the car comes to a stop, and the venue's security opens the door.

Idol All-Stars Competition to Begin Tomorrow

The day we've all been waiting for is finally about to dawn. Eighteen idols, one venue. Eighteen different one-song performances. Who's ready? We certainly aren't!

Tiki: We're here today with Honey Porntip Kunakorn, an idol who's actually debuted only recently. What was it? Early last year? Less than a year ago?

Honey: Yes, I know! It seems so crazy that I'll get to be there with all these popular idols. Seeing as I looked to some of them for my inspiration and motivation to get through training, meeting them will be very exciting.

T: Really? You're so lucky. My poor, old soul has to wait for calls from managers, companies, so much. It's so tiring. You just go! Who are you most excited to meet?

H: (blushing) This is kind of embarrassing. But I—no, no. I can't. Do I have to answer?

T: Oh? Did Cupid's arrow pierce your heart? Who has your gaze?

H: I'm sure this isn't surprising; I mentioned him a couple of times in my vlogs, but... it's Jericho.

T: (laughing) What's there to be embarrassed about? I think it's some female rite of passage nowadays to get a crush on that man. He's so handsome, isn't he?

H: Yes! I also really enjoy his music. I'm so excited to hear what he's prepared for the competition. I kind of hope it's not that great, though. I still want to win! (laughs)

Read the rest of the interview with Honey in a fresh copy of IDOL5 Magazine!

Written by Jan Bunyasarn. Edited by Lin Jetatikarn. Published 29 April 2018.

"Ready?" Arthit asks, looking back at the younger, hand on the car's doorknob. The doors unlock.

Kongpob lets out a breath, dropping his shoulders. He looks to the elder. Nods.

"Ready," he replies.

Arthit opens the door, and camera flashes blind them.