Chapter 2
The orphanage was Max's family. There was a time he had hoped to be adopted into a family, but after countless times being passed over because of various reasons ranging from not being sporty enough, or not excellent enough in academics, to eventually being too old, he had come to not expect it anymore. As he was becoming one of the older kids, Max helped take care of the younger ones. For the longest time, being labeled "average" felt like a curse preventing him from finding a family. But as he found himself being involved more and more with the day to day work taking care of the kids, he thought "average" wasn't really that bad.
It was a typical Sunday at the orphanage. Max was in the kitchen with the orphanage caretakers preparing their weekly "special" lunch. Calling the lunch "special" was just a way to make things a little fancy for everyone. They rarely had guests at this lunch, but everyone would dress up for it just because. Sometimes, if there was an occasion, they would add on some small celebrations, be it a birthday or some academic achievements of the kids, or welcoming a new kid or saying farewell to one. All in all, it wasn't special to any outsiders, but it was always something the kids look forward to every week. Oh, and the food was always a bit more glamorous. Again, just because. "Why not?" That had been the reason given to Max when he had first asked the question when he was eight. And like a tradition, he passed the sentiment on to whoever would ask. When he was nine, he had asked to join the preparation for these lunches, which had started with him fetching various cookwares, moving on to being taught how to properly prepare meat and vegetables, to later being assigned a dish. For his fourteenth birthday, he had asked if he could be in charge of the whole thing for once, and to his surprise, P'Marie had agreed.
P'Marie was the one in charge of the kitchen at the orphanage. She taught Max how to cook and introduced him to Thai television. That had led to them calling each other "phi-nong" despite them not being Thai nor speaking the language. "It makes us feel like we are in the universe with the characters. It's fun. It's one of the little things that put a spring in my steps." Max had explained this to a newcomer who asked about him, P'Marie and how he became the second favorite cook of the whole place (right behind P'Marie, of course).
"Nong Max!"
"Yes, P'Marie."
"Sammi is looking for you."
"Oh thank you. I am done with the braised pork as well. I will be back to help you plate in a flash."
Sammi was a boy who lived next door to the orphanage. His family had moved to the neighborhood when Max was nine. Max had often found the boy visiting the orphanage's garden. The little boy would sit and spacing out for a long period of time until he was called back to the house by his mother. Max had found the behavior very strange, so he had gotten curious and had decided to approach the boy one afternoon. Despite his many trials, the little boy would not open his mouth to answer any of Max's questions. When the boy had gotten the call from his mother to return home, Max had been left dumbfounded as he had never before encountered somebody like that. But Max wouldn't be Max if he gave up, so the next day, he had decided to change tactics: Max had found himself monologuing the entire afternoon, talking about himself, what food he liked to eat and cook, the trees in the garden, the bird nests he stumbled upon a few years before and about million other things. By the time the little boy had left, Max's throat had been completely dry and he couldn't speak for the rest of the evening. One of the caretakers had warned that he might get a fever the day after. It hadn't come, but an idea had popped into his head. The following afternoon, instead of preparing to talk for hours on end again, Max had brought with him some paper and his box of colored pencils to meet the little boy. For a minute, Max had thought the boy had been scared off by his incessant talking the day before. But the boy had been only a little later than usual. He had also been carrying a bottle of water which he had given to Max the moment he had arrived. Max could not hold his laughter because it was really funny, adorable and quite touching. "For Max," the boy had said. Max had taken the opportunity to point at himself and say his name again. He then had pointed his finger at the boy with a questioning look on his face. "Sammi, with an 'i'," the boy had replied. They had then spent the afternoon "talking" to each other by drawing pictures. Max had found out Sammi was three years his junior and that they shared the same birth month. Sammi had found that birth-month detail extremely interesting. Ever since, Sammi and Max had become almost inseparable. Sammi would introduce Max as his older brother. Sammi's mother was very grateful that her son had found a wonderful friend like Max. She had explained to the caretakers and Max on one of her visits that Sammi was autistic. Max, at the time, hadn't had a clue what that actually meant, except that Sammi was different, so Max would need to take care of Sammi differently as well. In the following years, it didn't matter how busy Max's school work got, he would always find time for Sammi. Their brotherly bond was well-known and loved in the orphanage.
"Max! Sammi has a birthday present for you. Happy sixteenth birthday, Max," said Sammi when he saw Max appear.
"Thank you, Sammi," said Max as Sammi presented a drawing. Sammi loved drawing for Max since that afternoon in the garden. It became their thing."Are you excited to receive yours in three weeks?"
"Sammi can't."
"What do you mean?"
"Can Max give Sammi's his birthday present early? Sammi is moving away."
Despite the apparent nonchalant tone that others might mistakenly hear, Max saw sadness dawning on the younger boy's face. Max had heard that the family found a special school in another town a few hours away for Sammi, and that they would move but he didn't expect it so soon. Max pulled Sammi into a hug, a privilege that only he had, and comforted the boy.
"It's all right. I will make sure you get your present before you leave."
"Sammi is scared."
"Sammi will be fine. I know my Sammi will be good there. And I promise to write to you often, okay?"
"With drawings, please."
"With drawings, yes. Every month. And you will send me yours as well, right?"
"Sammi will draw the new place so Max can imagine it." Sammi didn't like taking photos.
"Good. I am looking forward to it. Now, are you hungry? Do you want to come celebrate my birthday with me?"
"Yes, Max. It's so sad that Max won't celebrate Sammi's birthday with Sammi."
"Who said I won't? Come. We will party for the both of us today, and I promise I will do something special on your birthday as well. I will draw something so you can imagine it too, okay?"
"Yay. Sammi's brother Max is the best."
True to their promise, since that sixteenth birthday of Max, they would send each other letters and drawings every month. The letters and drawings kept coming and going until they stopped. Max kept all of them in a box in his closet.
—
Makx finished reading the document of conditions handed to him by Alice and had a perplexed look on his face.
"I'm sure you read this, Alice. Can I ask questions?"
"Of course. I assume you are a little concerned about the lunch time clause, right? I heard from EZ that sometimes you would want to work through lunch when creativity strikes."
"Oh no. I actually completely understand that. Well, correction, I was annoyed at it for a bit until I got to the part stating he would have his autistic brother in the room the whole time. I can imagine what that is like. The lunch time clause makes sense. Scheduling when taking care of his brother is important. I guess you don't know the specifics either, but if he has to write it out like this, it must be important enough. I am more curious about the non-disclosure part," explained Makx as he took another look at the document.
"PT is notorious for keeping his creative process to himself. Have you heard that some people actually called him snobby for always avoiding talking about it? I am baffled at human's logic sometimes."
"They actually say that? I don't remember PT having that vibe when I met him."
"And you would remember that correctly. Trust me, he is anything but snobby."
"So do you know what that's about?" Makx asked, hoping that Alice would know.
"No, unfortunately. My guess is that he just likes to maintain that mysterious image of his. I have talked with the few artists that have worked with him. They said the conditions seemed like formalities more than anything. Then again, this is new territory for many involved. It will be his first full-length record after all. Note that you can't even talk about it to your direct manager or me either. I don't think it's a problem since we can't talk about it publicly, we don't really need to know either. Most of these conditions are non-standard, but they don't seem that unreasonable. I am a little worried about the deal-breaker though. Are you sure you will be okay with his brother being present the whole time?"
"I am very sure," answered Makx. For a brief moment, a memory of him and Sammi flashed in his mind.
"PT assured me that his brother won't cause problems. But if anything were to happen that you couldn't make it work, let me know. PT is reasonable enough to adapt along the way."
"Have you met the brother?"
"I haven't had the chance to formally meet the guy, but I have seen him. He looked quite docile then. No outbursts, considering it was quite loud and hectic where we were."
After a brief moment, Makx announced, "I agree with everything. I will do it. I trust you, Alice."
"Good. Sign that document. I will make arrangements so we can move this forward. Hopefully, you guys can be in the studio next month."
"Out of curiosity, who do you think the new guy will sign?"
"How should I know? I am not a mind-reader," exclaimed Alice.
Makx looked at Alice and raised his eyebrows. Of course he wouldn't buy what Alice just said. Of course Alice could make an educated guess, would make that guess and would probably be right about it. "Come on, Alice. You are a mind-reader and don't you dare denying it."
Alice sighed and pointed at Makx, "I trained you too well. Fine. My guess is one of the five models they nicknamed 'the Runway Princesses'. It will depend on who will be more popular in the next six to nine months. Considering the way the new guy sees things, I would make a bet on either Zazouzie or Bambee"
Makx saw a fleeting nose crunch on Alice's face. "You have an opinion."
"No, I don't."
"Sure, I believe you," said Makx sarcastically.
"Of course I do. I have heard them try to sing before, and I fear for the future of music. If I had to sign any one of them five, and trust me, it would be at gunpoint, I would go with Ollie. At least she has something to work with."
"No, but tell me how you really feel." Alice was the one to introduce Makx to sarcasm. He thought he might as well use it against her sometimes.
"Baby, I demand you feed me your braised pork next weekend to make up for that remark just now."
They both had a good laugh. Makx loved to cook still. And Alice was arguably his biggest fan at that. If she could find the time, in addition to coming to dinner, she would love to watch Makx cook. She once described Makx in the kitchen as a cross between an artist at work and a kid in a playground. Alice could have criticisms for his music sometimes, but never his cooking. She especially enjoyed it on their secret trips to Makx's old orphanage. On second thought, the kids at the orphanage were greater fans of his. "I used to be the favorite around here, you know," Marie had once told Alice that. On one occasion, Alice expressed how she thought these trips should not be so secretive and that his fans would just adore Makx more had they known. But Makx, being Makx, refused, and Alice understood and respected that. Ten years since he had left this place, but this family of his remained too precious to be used as an image booster. Alice loved him more because of that, and she grew to love the place as well. It was no surprise for Marie to find out Makx and Alice had been anonymously and generously donating to the orphanage.
"Hey sis, I am planning to visit P'Marie and the kids next weekend. Would you like to come?" Makx asked Alice on his way out of her office.
"Sure! I miss them. And I have been dying to find out what P'Marie thinks about that series finale."
"I really don't like that you are siding with P'Marie in wanting the two of them to get together after all the borderline toxic things that happened."
"It's fiction. It's fantasy. It's my guilty pleasure. And most importantly, it's your problem that you don't like it. Now get out before I start my rant on why your ghost ship will never ever work."
With that, Makx chuckled at Alice and walked out, not after a tight hug for the older woman whom he considered his sister.
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