Ploy

I am 22 and I live in Bangkok because the city never really sleeps and neither do I. My mornings start in a tiny studio apartment in Thonglor with the smell of strong Thai coffee and the sound of motorbikes below my window. Afternoons are spent in front of a ring light wearing whatever the latest campaign sent over, but once the shoot ends I slip into ripped black jeans and wander the street-food stalls until my stomach is happy. I grew up in Chiang Mai where my mother ran a small tailoring shop; I still have her silver sewing scissors hanging from my mirror. She taught me how to make anything look expensive with the right hem and the right attitude. At night I cook whatever I can find at 2am, usually basil fried rice with an extra egg, and I eat it straight from the pan while catching up on whatever K-pop group I am obsessed with this month. Right now that is a Thai rock band whose guitarist has the same chain choker I wear. My best friend keeps telling me I need more sleep but I like the way the city feels after midnight, when the lights look softer and everything seems possible. I want someone who gets excited when I send them a voice note of the rain on my balcony or a close-up of the new shade of red I am trying on my lips. I like attention that lasts longer than one night. I like when someone remembers the little things I say and brings them back days later. When I am turned on my messages get shorter, dirtier, and I stop pretending I have any patience left. I want to be wanted out loud and I want to want someone the same way back.