Carta Visa Chapter 2

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I can’t wait till he actually learns Alexey’s name, that way I won’t have to use the word ‘hottie’ all the time.

As always, English is not my first language, corrections are welcome.

Bold: The characters are speaking in English.

“Many people have claimed that living in this condo brings happiness. The north points to fame,  the east points to wealth, the west points to support, while the south points to spiritual protection.” (TN: The auspicious directions or feng shui)

“That’s not all Petch,” the previous owner of the room said as she lowered her voice to a whisper, like she had a secret hidden away from the rest of the world. Her thick elongated eyelashes covered in mascara batting up and down dramatically. Umm, is this place secretly a harem?

“Hey Pae,” I interjected mid sentence when suddenly, a manicured hand as large as a sugar palm leaf came thwacking down on my head. My transs.e.xual friend and owner of this apartment looked at me surlily.

“You’ve got b.a.l.l.s to call me Pae, are you looking for a death wish? It’s Jessica!!!”

“Theres no need to overreact, geez Pae,” Before I could finish, Pae- I mean Jessica was close to stabbing me in the eyes with her stiletto heels. Good thing I already persuaded her to knock the apartment price down another two hundred thousand. If not, then I’d be slapping my mouth right about now.

“Yeah, yeah, whether your name is Jessica, Amoeba, Paramecium, or whatever else, it’s up to you. Just know that I’m a different species from you. I’m not the type to eye-rape every handsome macho guy I meet, like a certain someone.

“I do no such thing! Petch you think too lowly of me.”

“How about the guy next-door to the right? Are they hot?”

“It’s off the charts,” Pae’s eyes turned s.h.i.+ny and sparkly. “He’s sharp, cla.s.sy, doesn’t talk much, cold, but kind-hearted. Ooooh, and when he curses in Russian its satisfyingly raw and s.e.xy.”

“And the corner room?”

“That’s G.o.d reincarnated,” Pae said dreamily as she twisted her body left and right. “He’s handsome and has a heart of gold. Whenever he sees little ol’ Jessica with her shopping bags he always volunteers to help carry them for her. He also speaks Russian but has never said anything not polite, Jessica’s like so pleased~”

“The guy’s probably gay,” I concluded. My theory that well-mannered men are typically h.o.m.os.e.xual has been proven correct many times.

“Tsk, you really have bad judgement!” Pae retorted.

“And aside from this condo being your personal harem?” I moved to the real story at hand when suddenly the doorbell rang. Wide-eyed, Jessica grabbed a mirror up to examine herself, then strutted to open the door. Looks like she’s already forgotten that I own this apartment now. Appearing at the door was a foreigner as large as a Gorilla with a stone cold face comparable to the Stonehenge. Jessica leapt into his arms, reminding me of the dog at my parent’s place when it hasn’t seen me for a mere 5 minutes.

“Darling~” Jessica then ran back to drag away her 30 kilo suitcase, waving and smiling at me as if she’s off to go compete in the next Miss Universe. “I’m going now Petch, bye-bye, see you next summer.”

“Hey wait a sec, other than a harem you said there was something else here!” Not able to resist my curiosity, I ran after her. Jessica turned around, putting on an innocent face and sweet smile (Which I hope to G.o.d that I never fall for. Heavens, I rather hang myself with coriander stalk tied around my neck instead).

“Honestly, there’s nothing~ I was just pulling your leg.”

“Out with it.”

“…It’s haunted.”

“What!? That’s it, I’m selling this apartment back.”

“I’m joking. Bye-bye Petchy, you’ll find out soon!”

….

What the h.e.l.l. In the end, Pae ran off to Germany with her husband, leaving me to ponder over the newfound knowledge by myself. Ponder while sitting up, ponder while lying down, ponder while doing somersaults across the bed. That is, until the sound of a ringing phone startled me out of my reverie. Only then did I realise that it was 8pm. Picking up the call, the security guard downstairs informed me that my pizza had arrived, and that I were to go down to get it. However, being too lazy to take two trips in the elevator from the 12th floor I protested to the security guard. In the end, to no avail I begrudgingly headed downstairs.

I pressed the b.u.t.ton to call the elevator. Admiring the view of Bangkok under the s.h.i.+ning lights of Phetchaburi road I sighed. As a photographer no matter where you look, you end up seeing beauty in all things. It was the reason as to why I regrettably smashed open my ‘piggy bank’. The money that I’ve saved up in the 26 years of my life has been to buy an apartment in the middle of this city, despite knowing the heavy responsibility that comes with it; and even if it was bought from a close friend after all.

“Excuse me, are you the owner of room 1204 that moved in recently?” A voice next to me greeted loudly, startling me but also making me squint at the sight of his dazzling smile. The foreign man had deep blue eyes and was wearing an Adidas jogging outfit… what is with those s.h.i.+ny sparkling eyes~.

“I-I am.” And who are you?

“My name’s Sasha, I’m in room 1206. Miss Jessica told me that you’re a good friend of hers.”

Woaaah Pae… When you’re with this guy you get automatically upgraded to ‘Miss’ Jessica. I smiled dryly. I couldn’t just pretend to not know her, but calling her Jessica makes my mouth itch.

“My name is Pha-cha-ra. You can call me Petch. ” I spoke English all of a sudden. Looks like Jessica’s spirit is trying to take over, she seems like she would be powerful ent.i.ty. Why couldn’t she have possessed me when I went to the emba.s.sy? That hottie would have been cursed so viciously that nothing would be left of him except for his ashes.

In that moment, the elevator reached the ground floor. Sasha excused himself to go exercise in a separate part of the building, parting ways with a wide smile like we were  close friends. It made me feel weirdly refres.h.i.+ng inside. My life probably won’t get any worse than the hottie next-door that I have to deal with. I accepted the box of pizza, still wafting a delicious smell to hold close to my chest. Protecting ‘my precious~’, I carefully took it upstairs, hoping that it would suffice for several meals since I had already spent the majority of my hard-earned money on the apartment. I’d better start saving up again soon, since it’s going to take quite sometime before I can get myself back on stable ground. Luckily, I won’t have to pay for the last three installments for my car since Ma’ offered to help cover the rest; that is, after discovering that had been frugally home cooking to the point where the kitchen nearly caught on fire multiple times.

The elevator doors opened alongside the appearance of a tall familiar figure that I had just met this morning. A feeling of anger and resentment boiled up from my stomach as I stared hard at him. You black-hearted person. You inconsiderate guy. You b.a.s.t.a.r.d! Hae~ Don’t come near me, I’ll bite you.

“What’s up, Mr. Drunkard. Did you fix up your visa form yet?” Look at him!! Only now does he actually speak Thai, and clearly at that! “Does your place have a dictionary? If not I’ll let you borrow mine.”

“Eck-cuse me! My name is Phachara, not Mr. Drunkard!” Hey, it happened again. Jessica my friend descending down to possess me again. I’ve been wanting to curse this guy for a long time!

Ah, why is he laughing?

“Okay, Petch.”

Hm? How does he know my nickname, is he a stalker?

“Don’t forget to correct it, that is unless you want to waste another trip to the emba.s.sy.”

Hmph!

The hottie looked at me from head to toe and then at my pizza. I tightened my grip on the box, fearing that he would ask me to share it with him. Certainly, it would make for an unappetizing meal.

“When you’ve finished eating, come meet me in room 1202. We need to talk.”

I raised my head up to his face, feeling uneasiness in my heart. His way of talking was roundabout, annoying, and commanding, as if he’s actually my boss. Isn’t this guy just an emba.s.sy staff? Why is acting so high and mighty?

“I’m not free today.”

The hottie looked sharply at me, raising the corners of his mouth in that annoying way. Two long slender fingers moved to touch my face, jerking it left and right. It was then that I broke out of my confusion and brushed the hand away, “Don’t touch me.” Doing coquettish things like this makes me feel protective of my body you know.

“Those two went too far…”

Shocked, I recalled the moment in which I drunkenly got out of the car and loudly cursed at the BMW, drawing the attention of several pa.s.sersby. The hottie exited his car with a sour face, along with two officers whom I have no idea where they appeared out from but either way proceeded to beat me up till I was battered and bruised. At that time I was still drunk so I didn’t think much of it.

This hottie is right. It’s been two days yet the corner of my mouth still showed signs of bruising. The cuts and injuries on my body was still there as evidence too. With me being so fair-skinned, typical of someone with Chinese migrant parents, the injuries stood out more so.

“But if you don’t want to have a chat with me that’s fine, just take those injuries as a deserved punishment. What’s done is done… I actually wanted to settle this another way.

The hottie c.o.c.ked one eyebrow and headed into his room, leaving me in confusion.

What did he mean…

This question churned inside my head and I couldn’t brush it off even with food laid out in front of me. I turned on the television to watch some football and munched on my pizza. But a question that’s lodged in the heart made me full faster than normal. I couldn’t even pay attention to the football game. To sum up, I’ll probably have to go back and demand an answer from that guy.

Getting beaten up because I ‘deserved it’, is there such a thing?

Huaah, overthinking it is gonna make my p.i.s.s yellow. Let’s just go to rooftop, sip some beer, and take pretty pictures for fun instead. That said, I grabbed my trusty Canon 450D camera, still s.h.i.+ny brand new and hung it around my neck. Along with two cans of Singha beer, I pressed the elevator b.u.t.ton, and headed up to the rooftop.

Let’s just have a bit today, else I won’t be able to wake up in time for the visa application tomorrow, and that’s going to be a problem.

Taking pretty photos, sipping beer, stargazing, and a woman by your side, these are truly the four ideals of one’s life. Albeit, the latter point may be excruciatingly hard to obtain. I looked at the photo of the stretching Phetchaburi road covered by nightfall in my camera and finish the rest of the beer at the bottom of the can, as if indulging in the beauty of Bangkok at night. From initially one camera, it multiplied into two more lenses and my trusty tripod. Such a pity that I don’t have an extra hand, otherwise I would’ve nicked  another two cans of beer.

Cold beer and pretty photos, these are the two cures for a horrible day.

“You’re quite skilled.”

A low discordant voice sounds out from behind, complete with the smell of tobacco that was unfamiliar to my nose. Recoiling as if attacked by a creature not of this world, I was met face to face with the hottie, now in casual stay-at-home clothes and a cigarette in his hand. I open my mouth to chase him away but realized that this was the first time he had ever said anything nice to me.

“That’s because the ‘equipment’ is high quality stuff” I stuck out my chest to receive his compliment. (TN: Petch is talking about himself)

The grey eyes beneath those coffee-coloured eyelashes narrowed with a trace of an amused smile. “How immodest.”

Uwah! How about I smash your face in with my tripod?

“Try it. Hit me with that tripod and you’ll be the one to take a dive off this building. Whatever you decide it’s up to you.”

Threatening me like he actually could read my mind I froze and stared at the hottie with anxious suspicion, “Who are you exactly?”

Those pair of grey eyes looked at me, huffed the cigarette into his lungs, then faced the other way, releasing cigarette smoke into the thin air which slowly floated away from the high-rise building.

“You’re a freelance photographer correct?”

“Yes, now answer my question.”

“The salary must be pretty good since you managed to afford this apartment here.”

“I sc.r.a.pe by. If someone hires me, I’ll take the job no matter what kind of oddity it is.” With that said, my mouth was itching to curse at him. “Typically I’m not that free sit around, drink beer, and take pictures for fun you know? It’s just that this idiotic visa is a waste of time for me when I’m trying to make a living, and you’re to blame for this.

The hottie raised his eyebrows high.

“You want entry that bad?”

“Am I not welcome?”

“Probably.”

I’m seriously angry now. When this guy appeared, the nice atmosphere died completely. I decided to abruptly end the conversation, quickly pack up my belongings in frustration and walk to the rooftop door, that is until I was halted by the other.

“Wait, Phachara.”

I side-eyed him. Tch! Now you decide to speak nicely? “What?”

“Make sure you prepare all the correct doc.u.ments, I think you’re missing an important one. If you don’t know what it is, just call up the staff. Deal with it in an orderly fas.h.i.+on before you go hand it in. Remember this, no one wants to waste their time with you too. It’s a waste of time when others are trying to make a living.”

Woiiiiiii!!! This b.a.s.t.a.r.d’s gone too far! I’m definitely going to make this foreigner bleed. I place my camera bag on the floor and walked right up to him, putting one hand on my hip as if to show how unimpressed I am.

“They hired you to work for them, so you should work honestly. Do you think you’re all that great? Your territory is just a tiny mouse-hole-emba.s.sy, don’t think that I’m not brave enough to touch a meager visa staff like you.”

The hottie stared at me, his eyes as if already replaying the scene of me getting kicked off the building, “Go ahead and try if you’re brave enough like you say you are”.

With that, my patience which was already running thin, mixed with the alcohol in my body caused me to yank at the hottie’s s.h.i.+rt collar, an action lacking any processing from my brain. The other hand clenched in a fist rushed towards his face. Say goodbye to your good looks today f.u.c.ker!

Except… narrowly, my punch didn’t make contact with anything but the skin at the tip of his nose. The hottie smiled scornfully and then everything happened in an instant. I remember myself getting tossed into the air, back hitting the cement floor of the rooftop hard.  The hottie’s face above me was plastered with a cold expression. I moved to get up but found a leathery shoe pinning down my left shoulder. The hottie lit another cigarette, then proceeded to calmly exhale the smoke.

“What do you think you’re doing, Mr. Phachara?”

Grrrrr~ Is he blind or something? Does it look like I’m eating a meal with you? You dare ask such as question! I wish I could have been born a rottweiler, that way I would bite into his ankles and make him cry out loud: Eng! “Release me, woi!”

The hottie removed his feet, before squatting down next to me, watching me with a mocking smile as I try to push myself up into a sitting position with difficulty.

“You’re more amusing than I thought. Miss Jessica said that you were an odd guy, but I never thought I would find you amusing to this extent.” He clicked his tongue with a ‘po!’ sound. “Has anyone told you that you’re a funny guy? You have a bad mouth but you’re really funny.”

“Shut up!” Uuuu… my body hurts all over. I look at the hottie in front of me with resentment. You beat me up like this, and then still have the b.a.l.l.s to tell me that I’m funny? I’m not a punching bag woi! Do you think I exist to get punched at again and again just for you conclude that it was a fun exercise? I try to move my body but it fails to act as intended. Just s.h.i.+fting my hip is enough to cause tears to well up. Huu huu huu, mommy… if my bottom half becomes paralysed I’m complaining to the ministry of foreign affairs that an emba.s.sy staff bullied me.

The hottie stood up, walked to grab my camera bag and opened it up. “Hey! What are you doing?” Don’t, don’t, don’t. Don’t you so much as touch my sweet child, my little Canon. “What are you planning to do with my camera- You b.a.s.t.a.r.d! You– You– You! What the h.e.l.l is your name!” The white light of the flash blinded my eyes and before I could see clearly again the hottie had already disappeared, leaving behind a pitiable Thai youth with a sprained hip and a single camera. I reached for my sweet child, my little Canon, consoling her and then pressed a b.u.t.ton to look at the latest picture taken.  It was a picture of a young man with disheveled hair and a shocked face, leaning dead against the edge of the rooftop wall. It kind of resembled those victims in fear-inducing slasher films, quite scary indeed.

Eventually, carrying my body gently back to my apartment, it felt as if parts of me were going to fall off piece by piece. I looked at the door of apartment 1202 which belonged to the hottie resentfully. Just you wait you b.a.s.t.a.r.d! Tomorrow your BMW will have marks on it like zebra!

My sight tripped over a white name card inserted just above the keycard panel to my own room. To the left was a picture of two golden unicorns facing away from each other. To the right was something like a golden sun above a circular blue floor. Meanwhile, at the back was the name of the country in Russian and details of the name card’s owner, also in Russian. I flipped it to the other side, reading the English which made me freeze for a whole three seconds.

What does it say, Alexander Nazarbayev… did I read it correctly? The last name feels annoyingly familiar. That said, what is this guy’s position? Is he an emba.s.sy security guard? …Hah? Consultant of Political and Foreign Affairs. Umm, what does it mean? An adivisor for politics? And foreign countries? I’m not really sure, but if theres one thing I’m sure about… he really is a powerful guy woi!

Uu, I played with the wrong person. If I ever fail to get a visa, it’s definitely going to be this time!

P.s. After thinking about it again, I’d consider myself pretty lucky for not getting thrown off the building by his policemen/bodyguards.

Carta Visa Chapter 2

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Carta Visa Chapter 2 summary

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