Fireworks Across the Fence

Bangkok, late in the afternoon. A ten-year-old boy lounged against his front gate, chewing gum like he belonged in some gangster flick. His name was Nawin Rattanakorn-Sirisuk, and his face had the fixed look of someone already exhausted by the world. "Hi. I'm Nawin," he said without much feeling, staring right at… well, you.(Obviously you 😅) "And welcome to my life. Or, in my words: 'The Bangkok Circus That Refuses to End. First up: Exhibit A......... He gestured toward the man across the street, folded over an engine, smeared in grease, mumbling along to a terrible rock song. "That's my dad. Kawin Aris Sirisuk. He genuinely believes repairing cars makes him hot. Spoiler: mostly it leaves him reeking of petrol. He keeps calling my Papa 'baby, darling, pretty......' like some rejected soap actor. Honestly, I'm pretty sure he rehearses it in the mirror. He's thirty, but in his head? Twelve." Kawin scrubbed his hands on his jeans, noticed Tarin on the porch, and instantly yelled:"BABY! You look way too pretty to stay mad at me today!" From the porch, Tarin barely reacted. He only lifted one eyebrow and drank his iced coffee like royalty. "That's Tarin Phadet Rattanakorn. My papa. He's thirty-two, ridiculously gorgeous, fully aware of it, and he swings sarcasm like a blade. Papa claims he's 'moved on' from Dad, but the second Dad flirts with anyone else, Papa goes full Terminator. I personally live for the drama." Tarin smirked over the fence. "Kawin, call me 'pretty' one more time and I'll dump this coffee on your head. The hot one." "Worth it!!!" Kawin shouted. Nawin sighed. "This is what I mean. Children." He snapped his gum, then flicked a hand toward the massive villa next door. "Now for Papa's side of the family. Rich, loud, theatrical. Exhibit B: my grandfather Suthep Rattanakorn." Right on cue, Suthep walked out shirtless, showing off to the sun while carrying a lawnmower over one shoulder like a handbag. "Fifty-five, owns a modeling agency, apparently allergic to shirts. Around the neighborhood, people call him 'Uncle Abs.' My dad Kawin once called him 'Dad' by accident, and honestly, I don't think Grandpa Suthep ever recovered." Kawin's voice floated over: "Morning, Dad..............I.....I mean Uncle!" "KAWIN!!!" Suthep bellowed like some thunder god. Nawin didn't so much as flinch. "This happens weekly." Suthep's husband showed up behind him, lowering a tray of tea. "That's Preecha Rattanakorn. Sweet face, razor tongue. Passive-aggressive champion. He can politely destroy your entire bloodline while handing out cookies." Preecha smiled at Kawin. "Lovely day, isn't it? Though I suppose it's rougher for people who can't pay for landscaping." Across the street, Lalin gasped loud enough to make the neighbors turn. "Ah yes," Nawin said in the flattest voice possible, Dads side. The middle-class circus. Lalin came stomping out of their smaller house in an apron, both hands on her hips. "Excuse me, Preecha, but some of us don't need cash when we have CLASS." "That's Lalin Sirisuk. My grandmother/father. Elegant, terrifying. She once threw a sandal at Suthep mid-flex. Direct hit." Prasert stomped out of the garage behind Kawin, lifting a wrench like a sword. "Oi! Which idiot is flexing out here again?!" "Prasert Sirisuk, my grandfather. He runs the garage. Thinks wrenches are enchanted weapons. He's basically Kawin with extra wrinkles and even more volume." From the balcony, a woman's laugh rang out. "Hahaha! Oh my god, Kawin, you called him Dad AGAIN!" "Mali Sirisuk-Lertsakul. My aunt. Blogger. She records every fight like it's reality TV. If this family winds up on Netflix, that'll be her fault." Her husband Niran leaned over her shoulder, looking tense. Please stop throwing tools again. Last time, the insurance guy nearly resigned!" "Niran Lertsakul. My uncle-in-law. Accountant. Stressed 24/7. Could use therapy. Then again, so could all of us, but lets not unpack that." Then a shout came ripping in from the far end of the villa. Tarin! BRO, you alive over there?! That was Thana Kietsuwan, Papas closest friend. A fiery gym trainer, loyal past all reason. He would take on anybody for Papa. Usually Dad. Right behind him came his husband, Kiet Kietsuwan. A kindergarten teacher. He is always trying to keep the peace and somehow turns every argument worse. He's like a fireman carrying gasoline. And then there's their kid............oh god. "Mek," Nawin muttered, glaring while the boy skipped down the driveway with a bouquet. "My… problem." "NAWIN! My future husband!" Mek shouted, going down on one knee like a bargain-bin soap opera star. "I brought you flowers!" Nawin pinched the bridge of his nose. Do you see what I put up with? I am ten and already saddled with a stalker. This is my life. My whole family. My circus. He looked at the invisible camera one final time, deadpan. So thats why I always look exhausted. Behind him, Kawin and Tarin were already screaming at each other again, Suthep kept flexing, Prasert kept swinging his wrench, Preecha and Lalin traded passive-aggressive insults, Mali was livestreaming, Niran was panicking, Thana was yelling, Kiet was apologizing, and Mek was still in the middle of proposing. Nawin blew a little gum bubble. Pop. Welcome to the block, guys..