“Alright, fine, continue,” Min pointed one of the spoons at Dao and Kiet, who were looking at the strange motorcyclist sitting a few tables away from them. “You decided to get justice and fight the short guy, and then you gave some stranger a punch in the jaw with your forehead. So what happened next?”

“What happened next? He knocked me to the ground like I weighed nothing. I only remember that unpleasant feeling of flying,” Dao frowned. “He was going to deservedly fix my bite and my nose, but some girls intervened. I can't say I was so scared...”

“You're not scared of anything. He was trying to separate two of you, and you decided to increase the degree of intensity and drag him into the fight," Kasem growled at his friend and smiled charmingly. “My little Dao, people like you don't live long. Stop running into men twice your size. Who turned off your instinct for self-preservation?”

“Oh, come on, is this my first fight? I’m used to it. I know where the first aid kit is and where to call in case of bleeding or fractures,” Dao was eating, glancing at his watch. He had only an hour left to get ready and get to the bus stop.

“In our case, it’s to the crematorium,” Min shook his head. “Or a band-aid to a ripped head. While you're waiting for good help, you should call a monk on the second line.”

“I don’t think that guy was threatening me with death. A few bruises at most,” Dao swallowed his rice like a python. “So far, no one from the student council has come to me with the need to report to the dean, and thanks Buddha for that. I'm already feeling like at home there,” he put his utensils on the plate and began to get up. “Alright, guys, I’m off.”

“Hey, where are you going, what about the pink milk?!” Min shouted after him. He didn’t feel sad about his friend leaving and instead took his drink under disapproving gazes. “Kiet and Kasem, don’t look at me like that. My ribs are about to be visible..”

“Well, your conscience clearly isn't,” Kasem added as he handed him a few of pieces of meat. “Here, or the tropical wind will blow you away.”

“Thanks!”

“What a pig,” Kiet said rather loudly, looking off to the side.

“Come on, buddy, Dao is refusing your pink milk anyway, so I’m finishing it. Don’t be rude. It's a habit, our little thing,” Min smiled widely but stopped drinking. “Kiet?”

“I don't mean you, I mean that motorcycle racer guy, who ate and left his utensils. I know Aunt Nii cleans here, and that’s kind of her responsibility, but you should never forget about politeness,” Kiet said softly, but there was a threat in his voice.

The guy they were talking about—the motorcycle racer—had only walked about five meters away from the table before he stopped. He slowly turned back to Kiet. He looked the way a tiger looks at a deer in ambush. The stranger had a distinctive beauty. He had both Thai and Chinese features. As he stared so openly at Kiet, he had a chance to get a better look at that jackanapes. Sharp cheekbones, bronze skin, dark phoenix-shaped eyes, black hair tied in a small bun on his head, a narrow jaw, and plump lips. Kiet wasn't scared of his fierce expression or his beauty. A person who studies masterpieces doesn’t fear either creating or mutilating them. So he defiantly looked at the motorcycle racer too. The stranger headed towards them.

“Oh, something’s about to happen,” Min whispered.

“I’ll turn on my camera.”

“What did you call me?” the stranger said in a low voice, that was full of anger.

“I called you a hog,” Kiet fearlessly stood up from his seat and stood in front of him. “You didn't  introduced yourself, so—” Kasem and Min  opened their mouths as their friend unzipped the stranger’s jacket and saw the name on it. “Well, that's better. Now you're San-pig or pig-San; I let you the choose.”

“Have you had enough of life?” San loomed over Kiet like a shadow.

“P, forgive him, he’s a bit straightforward; he didn't mean to offend you... We’ll clean it all up by ourselves, don’t worry,” Min also stood up and looked fearfully at Kasem. “Stop filming; we’re about to be minced meat.”

“No one is going to be minced,” Kiet stared at San with disgust. “Where are your manners, P?” He specifically emphasized the word “P.” “You’re so cool that your jacket doesn’t allow you to move your hands and take your plate to Aunt Nii?”

“I’m in shock,” San whispered, and his lips contorted into a sinister smile. “And you are a pretty good boy, I see, I’ll teach you to be quiet and—”

Kiet splashed Dao’s pink milk right in his face.

“You talk too much,” Kiet smirked and took a step back as Min clutched his head while Kasem’s broadcast sounds indicated the ratings skyrocketing.

“You're done...”

But the conflict didn’t have time to escalate to dangerous dimensions health for Kiet's health. He was a fool himself, of course, to teach manners to such an ill-mannered cliff. They were about the same height, but the biceps and thighs covered in leather hinted at long hours of training in the gym. Kiet decided to put the blame on Dao, who influenced him badly by his example of getting into trouble. Help came from an unexpected source. Aunt Nii appeared as if from nowhere and hit San on the head with a broom. He, not expecting such an attack from the old lady, covered his face with his hands and began to back away. All the people in the canteen burst into laughter at seeing this. Kasem almost jumped from the sharply increased number of viewers on his broadcast.

“You ungrateful one, I don’t want to see you in my canteen again! I’ll check the cameras and report to the police about you hurting cute Nong Kiet. He’s so polite and kind, and here you come with your fists,” Aunt Nii didn’t hold back her anger.

San growled and gave Kiet a murderous look. He whispered He whispered to him with only lips: “See you soon,” and started to walk away. Kiet stared daggers at him until he got on his motorbike. San grimaced because of the sticky pink milk and pulled out some napkins, wiping his face. He raised his gaze forward, and they settled into another staring contest, hoping to burn each other with their stares. San fastened his jacket and made a gesture to slit the throat, before putting on his helmet. Kiet wasn’t a bit scared and simply showed the idiot a middle finger with a charming smile.

“Kiet, you scold Dao for every single incident, but you almost started a fight over an unwashed plate. It’s not worth it,” Min tucked his head down into his shoulders. “I can take it away by myself.”

“It’s a matter of principle,” Kiet imposingly returned to his seat with his usual carefulness. “Kasem, turn off the camera; this isn’t an ASMR video.”

“Awesome!” his friend smiled. “I thought my phone was going to overheat from all the comments and likes. Now you’re a star too!”

“I thought I was going to overheat,” Min whispered, glancing toward the exit. “We were lucky Dao left. Then it would have been chaos...”