FAZER LOGINPakin’s P.O.VThe air in the grand living area was thick, heavy with the scent of aged sandalwood and the suffocating pressure of centuries of expectation. Looking down at the polished marble floor felt like I was wading through deep water, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.My father, King Suriyatep, was here. Actually here, standing right in front of me. The confrontation I had been dreading all this time was finally happening.He stood by the tall, arched windows, his silhouette framed by the golden light of the waning afternoon. He didn't say anything immediately, and that silence—that absolute, crushing void of sound—was more terrifying than any shout.Beside me, P’Dew shifted slightly, his expression a mask of royal composure, though I could see the tension in the set of his jaw. My mother stood on my other side, her presence a quiet, comforting warmth, yet even she seemed diminished in the shadow of the King’s mood.As my father finally turned to face us, t
Sean’s P.O.VThe garage was a symphony of controlled chaos—the high-pitched whine of pneumatic drills, the heavy thud of tires being swapped, and the constant, rhythmic chatter of the mechanics. Usually, this was my sanctuary. The smell of grease, burnt rubber, and high-octane fuel acted like a sedative for my mind, focusing everything into a single point of intensity.But for the last week, the symphony had sounded like noise.I was leaning against the workbench, a wrench in my hand that I hadn't actually used in ten minutes. My eyes were glued to the screen of my phone, which was resting on a smudge-covered rag.I was waiting. Waiting for a vibration, a ping, a single word from Pakin.Every time the screen stayed dark, a knot of anxiety tightened in my chest. I knew he was trapped in that gilded cage, suffocating under the weight of protocol and his father’s shadow, but the distance felt like a physical wound.It didn't matter that he was only a few kilometers away in the palace; it
Pakin’s P.O.VThe first few hours back in the palace were a blur of sterile white corridors and the rhythmic, oppressive clicking of polished shoes on marble. The moment the heavy gates had closed behind me, the air seemed to thicken, turning into a viscous syrup that made every breath feel like a chore.I wasn't Pakin the racer anymore. I wasn't the man who had felt the wind whip against his face at two hundred kilometers per hour, or the man who had felt Sean’s calloused hand gripping mine in the dark.I was Prince Pakin, a disgraced ornament of the monarchy, and my life had suddenly become a series of checkboxes and timed intervals.I had forgotten how loud silence could be.The palace wasn't noisy. Quite the opposite, actually. Every hallway was immaculate, every servant moved with quiet efficiency, every guard stood as still as a statue. Nothing was out of place.Nothing was ever out of place.And som
Pakin’s P.O.VThe silence in the car was heavy, thick with a tension that had nothing to do with the adrenaline of the track and everything to do with the destination. The victory at Buriram still hummed in my veins, but it felt like a distant echo, drowned out by the looming shadow of the palace.Two weeks. We had two weeks until the next race, a brief respite that should have been a blessing. But the royal charity ball was only four days away. For most, a ball was a fairy tale; for me, it was a summons. It was the moment I had to stop being a racer, stop being a man who loved another man, and return to being a decorative piece of the monarchy’s carefully curated image.I stared out the window, watching the landscape shift from the raw, industrial edges of the city to the manicured, oppressive greenery of the royal outskirts."I don't want to go," I whispered, the words feeling small and fragile in the space between us.
Pakin’s P.O.VThe roar of the engines was a physical weight against my chest, a rhythmic, screaming vibration that drowned out everything but the adrenaline coursing through my veins. The Buriram International Circuit was a blur of grey asphalt and vivid green grass, the sun beating down on the track until the air shimmered with heat haze.Inside the cockpit, the smell of high-octane fuel and hot rubber was intoxicating, a scent that had become my sanctuary.I was in third place, my eyes locked onto the two cars ahead of me. In first was Sean, his car a streak of aggressive precision, slicing through the air with a confidence that always made my heart race for reasons that had nothing to do with the speed. Right on his tail, like a predator stalking its prey, was Talay.They were neck and neck, their cars dancing a dangerous ballet at two hundred kilometers per hour. Every time Sean shifted, Talay mirrored him. Every time Sean braked for a corner, Talay was there, practically breathin
Pakin's P.O.V"...and while neither Prince Pakin Thanawin nor the Royal Palace has released an official statement regarding the nature of his relationship with professional racer Sean Sahapap, speculation continues to grow after the pair were spotted arriving and leaving the race venue together on multiple occasions."I sighed, reaching for the remote.Click."...Many royal analysts believe the upcoming Royal Charity Ball, which will be hosted by His Majesty next weekend, may finally provide answers. Will the second prince arrive alone, or will he introduce the mysterious Track Dragons racer who has recently captured both the nation's attention and—"Click.Another channel."...#PrincePakin and #SeanSahapap have remained the top trending topics for nearly forty-eight consecutive hours, with fans eagerly debating whether Thailand is witnessing its first openly public royal gay romance—"Click."...Sources close to the palace claim preparations for the charity ball are already underway,
Pakin’s P.O.VThe next day, I went to college, doing my best to act like everything was normal. It was a relatively easy thing to do as long as I kept my head down, but I knew that it would all fall apart once I saw my friends, especially Tew.I walked through
Pakin’s P.O.VI woke to the dull light of morning filtering through cheap blinds, the rays cutting across the dim, cramped motel room. My head throbbed faintly, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure where I was.Then the memories hit me like a freight train. All at once, without mercy.Cship hia laew! (H
Pakin’s P.O.VDon’t ask me how we got here because I have no fucking clue. I could not even remember when or how we stumbled into a random motel in the middle of the night. I did not drink a single sip of alcohol, but everything was a blur.I think I was high on lust.I don’t remember us getting a r
Pakin’s P.O.VMy heart was still pounding in my chest as I gripped the wheel of my Valkyrie, the echoes of the race still fresh in my mind and in the way I breathed deeply.After that performance, I should’ve stayed at the track to soak in the crowd’s awe, to let my ego bask in that glory and solidi







