If you want to say it positively, I’m just someone who cares a lot about other people’s business. If you want to say it negatively… well, I guess I’m a nosy busybody. Especially when it comes to Phong and Kiên—I just couldn’t leave it alone.
The next day, I invited Kiên to lunch. There are plenty of cheap student cafeterias around the dorm—most use meal tickets. Each ticket covers up to 30 meals, and the whole set costs less than 400k.
Across the street from the dorm is a narrow, winding alley with almost no traffic. About a minute in, we reached a small rice stall. The food’s good—slightly pricier than the others, but quiet and comfortable. We ordered two plates before sitting down. Before I could say anything, Kiên beat me to it: “So what’s this private lunch about?”
Damn, he’s sharp. I smiled awkwardly, caught red-handed, but before I could speak, he added: “You saw everything last night, didn’t you?”
I jumped, glancing around: “How’d you know?”
He shrugged: “I was drunk, not dead. I knew someone was at the window. When I got back, you were the only one still awake.” Then he leaned close to my ear: “I even saw the cum stain you left on the wall near the drying pole.”
From detective to suspect in seconds. I blushed through the whole meal. After we finished, I suggested we buy drinks and sit on the benches in the nearby apartment courtyard. I asked: “You said you only dated girls before. So why do it with Phong?”
He took a sip of water, legs crossed casually: “Yeah, I only dated girls. Doesn’t mean I only like girls.”
I blinked: “Wait—fuck, you’re bisexual?”
Kiên raised an eyebrow and nodded. I pressed: “But you know Phong likes you, right? Oh shit…”
I blurted out the secret without thinking. But Kiên dropped an even bigger one: “Oh, so that’s it. I thought he was just a pervert who drugged me so I’d fuck him.”
I played dumb: “What? When did this happen?”
Kiên: “The night we all drank. You passed out early; everyone else was dead asleep. He brought me water. After I drank, I didn’t feel clearer—I just got so hard I thought my dick would explode.”
I hissed: “Keep it down, idiot! But how do you know for sure he did it?”
Kiên: “No proof, so I let it slide. If I had evidence, I’d have dealt with him already.”
I teased: “Didn’t you ‘deal with him’ last night? In a very hands-on way.”
Kiên: “You think I’m joking? He drugged me—he owes me. Letting me use his hole is just payment.”
I clicked my tongue: “Yeah, he messed up first. But I can see he really likes you. If you don’t feel the same, why kiss him like that?”
Kiên answered calmly: “Kissing makes his hole relax. Easier to slide in.”
I was speechless. I couldn’t defend Phong—he did wrong. But I couldn’t stop Kiên either. As long as Kiên wanted, Phong would spread his legs willingly. Caught in the middle, I was completely stuck.
I’d rather Kiên explode in anger, yell a hundred curses—easier to handle. But this calm? It felt like he was plotting something. If Kiên was a hunter, Phong was prey drunk on the bait—ignoring the danger just for a moment of pleasure.
Whatever. If I can’t intervene, I’ll let it go. At least Kiên promised to message me whenever he and Phong got busy. He likes being watched. That’s all.
This past month, Phong’s been noticeably happier. Every night Kiên climbs down to sleep in his bed—whether they fuck or not. Seeing him like this makes me worry. He’s walking on clouds right now. When he realizes Kiên’s just toying with him, it’ll feel like falling into hell. But what can I do besides watch them fuck?
Apparently Kiên told Phong about the “audience” too—because now when I stand outside the window, Phong treats me like air. I spy like I’m not spying. If they didn’t only do it late at night, I’d have dragged Ngọc Lễ and Duy Long along to watch.
Ngọc Lễ and Duy Long share a bunk—Long on top, Lễ below. Last night they couldn’t sleep. I asked why. Duy Long: “I don’t know—felt like an earthquake. My whole bunk shook for half an hour.”
Ngọc Lễ: “Fuck, I dreamed a ghost was chasing me. The ghost ran making this clanging sound—like someone banging metal pipes against the wall.”
I laughed inwardly: Of course. Your bunk’s right next to Phong and Kiên. Surprised you didn’t wake up sooner. Only someone like me who doesn’t sleep through it misses the show.
But the next night, I was the one who couldn’t sleep. I saw Kiên’s Facebook story: him at a bar, next to a hot girl who kissed his cheek. I froze. When Phong sees this, he’ll be devastated.
Minh Khôi: “Damn, Kiên changes girlfriends like shirts. New hot girl already.”
Duy Long: “She looks kinda… familiar.”
Ngọc Lễ: “Obviously a fuckboy. Perfect match.”
I glanced toward Phong’s bunk—he wasn’t there. Checked the balcony—nope. He never leaves the room after dark. He must’ve seen the story. I called him—no answer, phone off. Then Tùng Dương burst in, panting: “Yo, Phong got hit by a motorbike crossing the street! Security uncle took him to the hospital!”
My blood ran cold, but mostly I was furious. I replied to Kiên’s story: “Fuck you Kiên, Phong just got hit by a bike. Happy now?”
Kiên saw it but didn’t reply. I didn’t care. We locked the room and rushed downstairs to the hospital. Lucky it was close—only 400m. Probably not life-threatening since it was a bike. But I was pissed. I knew Kiên did this on purpose to mess with Phong.
We waited outside the emergency room. Doctor came out—everything fine. Fractured leg, minor head injury from hitting the road, some scrapes. Good thing it was just a motorbike.
Later Kiên showed up. I glared but said nothing. I told the others to head back—I’d stay with Kiên. Doctor asked us to pay the bill. I had no money. That’s when I learned: in our room, it wasn’t just Phong who came from money—Kiên did too. He handled everything smoothly, paying without blinking. I wanted to curse him but couldn’t even speak.
Two hours later, Phong woke up. I was about to go in when Kiên grabbed my wrist, pulled me back, and went in first. When I entered, Kiên was sitting on the bed, holding Phong’s hand, repeating: “I’m sorry. I’m the worst. I shouldn’t have played with you like that.”
Hearing “played with” made me snap: “Fuck, you done playing yet? You knew he liked you, so you toyed with his feelings, his body, and now his life too?”
Phong, just awake, started crying. Kiên pressed his face into Phong’s hair, voice breaking. I continued: “You put him in this hospital bed and you’re still not satisfied? He wronged you first—now he’s paid enough. Let him go! You’re an actor or something? Tired of the performance yet?”
Phong stayed silent. I knew his heart had shattered the moment he saw that story. Then Kiên said: “I’m not acting. I like Phong. For real.”
I scoffed: “Shameless. Just posted pics with your girlfriend, now you say this?”
Kiên shouted: “That’s not my girlfriend! That’s my cousin visiting Saigon!”
I: “How the hell were we supposed to know? What do you want to say now?”
Kiên pulled out his phone, called someone, and put it on speaker. A woman answered: “Kiên! How’s your boyfriend? I feel so bad—I took that photo with you and now this happened. I didn’t expect it to go this far.”
Turns out Kiên asked his cousin how to test if someone really liked him. She suggested making Phong jealous. Classic—anyone in love would get jealous.
Kiên: “He’s awake now. But he doesn’t believe you’re my cousin—thinks you’re my girlfriend.”
The woman: “Awake? Thank God. I’m so sorry—I was tipsy and played a stupid prank. I’ll buy gifts and visit tomorrow.”
Kiên hung up. Phong and I were stunned. I tried to save face: “Then why didn’t you just say you liked him from the start? Why all the hiding?”
Kiên: “I didn’t hide. No one asked, and no one noticed. I sleep in his bed every night. Isn’t that obvious?”
I cursed: “Fuck, how would anyone know? I thought you were just toying with him!”
Kiên: “If I wanted to toy with anyone, it’d be you. Who’d hurt someone as sweet and caring as him? Since day one, he’s taken care of me—food, water, laundry, everything. Like a boyfriend. I’d have to be blind not to notice.”
I huffed: “Yeah, I’m blind. I didn’t see you liked him. Happy?”
Kiên: “What else? Every time I fuck him, I invite you to watch. I kiss him until I can’t breathe—and you still didn’t think I liked him?”
Phong had stopped crying. His face was bright red. I knew I was third-wheeling now. No point arguing—I had no backup.
In the end, I was the only one making a scene. But everything cleared up, and I felt relieved.