'A game about survival'
The sun is sinking below the horizon, casting long shadows across Pattaya’s narrow sois, where the air is heavy with sultry heat and the smell of street food. The city roars to life, as if the night were a mask hiding its true face. Neon lights flicker impatiently above the entrances to bars and clubs, like beacons for lost souls. Nok sits at the bar, her legs crossed, eyes as sharp as knives. Her lips curl into a half-hearted smile as a group of tourists stroll past. They are noisy and cheerful, like children who don’t realize that the toys they are playing with have long since broken.
Nok, her name means bird, but that sounds like a joke now. Her wings were broken years ago, pinned down in this city that suffocates her as much as it embraces her. Her body is tired, but her mind is in constant fight mode. “You have to be ready,” she thinks. “Ready to play, ready to flee.” She looks out to the horizon where the last rays of sunlight light up the water. There’s something menacing about the way the night tightens its grip, as if even the air is holding its breath.
Then a man approaches. Not your average tourist; something about his posture, perhaps the way he moves too confidently, betrays that he’s been here before. His eyes, dark and searching, linger on hers for a moment, and a shiver runs through her that sets her nerves on edge. There’s a game going on, she realizes, and she’s not just a piece; she’s also a pawn on a board where the rules are constantly changing. “One more time, Nok,” she says to herself. “One more time to play.”
“How much for an evening of adventure, bird girl?” he asks with a smug smile as sincere as a three-hundred-baht note. She looks at him with a look that is as much an invitation as a warning. “Two thousand baht,” she says calmly. “Or more, if you’re looking for something you won’t find anywhere else.” Her voice is saturated with something both defiant and sinister. It’s a tone that draws the men in, because it promises them a glimpse of danger that their dull lives lack.
They walk together to one of the hotels on the boulevard, a place where the rooms stink of cheap disinfectant and broken dreams. As she walks down the narrow corridor, she feels the tension building in her body, not like fear, but like a kind of premonition. There’s something different about this man. It’s the way he looks at her, as if he’s not just seeing her body, but trying to fathom something deeper. “What do you really want?” she asks suddenly, her voice louder than she intended.
He turns to her, his smile turning into a grin that has something animalistic about it. “Maybe I want to see if those wings of yours still work,” he says, his eyes flashing with desire and something much darker. She feels her heartbeat quicken. This is no ordinary customer. This is not a man who simply wants to forget, but someone who is looking for the edge of the abyss, and he wants to take her there too.
Before she steps into the room, a thought flashes through her mind: “I can still run now.” But then she hears the door slam behind her and realizes that escape is no longer possible. In a split second, everything falls into place; the tension, the way he moved, his words that sounded a little too much like a challenge. This is not a game she can win. This is survival.
But Nok is not the type to give in easily. “If you think you can break me, you’ll have to try harder,” she hisses, taking a step toward him, her eyes boring straight into his. It’s a moment of stillness, a dark dance between predator and prey, the roles not yet determined.
The night closes in around them and the sounds of the city grow muffled, as if the world itself is holding its breath to see how this will end. She knows it’s not just about money, or lust, but something much deeper, a longing for something she herself may not be able to name. And as she slowly pulls him closer, she feels a kind of triumph, however fleeting. “If I’m a bird,” she thinks, “it’s time to show I can still claw.”
About this blogger
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My age officially falls into the category of 'elderly'. I've been living in Thailand for 28 years - try to do that. The Netherlands used to be paradise, but it fell into disrepair. So I went looking for a new paradise and found Siam. Or was it the other way around and Siam found me? Either way, we were good-natured.
ICT provided a regular income, something you call 'work', but for me it was mainly a pastime. Writing, that's the real hobby. For Thailandblog I'm picking up that old love again, because after 15 years of hard work you deserve some reading material.
I started in Phuket, moved to Ubon Ratchathani, and after a stopover in Pattaya I now live somewhere in the north, in the middle of nature. Rest never rusts, I always say, and that turns out to be true. Here, surrounded by greenery, time seems to stand still, but fortunately life doesn't.
Eating, especially lots of it – that’s my passion. And what makes an evening complete? A good glass of whisky and a cigar. That’s about it, I think. Cheers!
Photos, I don't do that. I always look ugly in them, even though I know Brad Pitt pales in comparison. It must be the photographer, I think.
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Dark and true. A game as you can also observe in our own country.
Dear Farang Kee Nok,
Beautifully described again, nice that you share your stories with us
Regards Peter