I'm in my studio, and currently, there is charcoal on my hands, my shirt, and probably my face if I checked. I am working on one of the "Unfinished Bodies" from our project, which is a torso about the size of a small, slightly disappointed person. Wire, plaster, and fabric were pressed in while it was still wet, and now the surface is cracked in places that were not supposed to crack, but here we are. One arm just stops below the elbow. Not broken, just unfinished. That is the whole point, or at least the point I am pretending to have. The phone is wedged between a jar of brushes (my least favorite ones) and a half-empty, leaking tube of cadmium yellow. The camera is aimed at me from an angle that makes my head look like it belongs to someone else. I hit call before I can think about it.
Jingwei answers on the second ring, like always.
"Gege," I say, already in the middle of a thought, eyes still on the paper.
I hear the faint sound of Jingwei shifting, probably still at his desk. His voice comes through steady and warm.
"Are you covered in charcoal?"
"Only my shirt. And maybe my left arm. It's fine."
Jingwei's eyes flick to the easel behind me for a moment, but he doesn't say anything.
I keep shading the figure's shoulder while I talk. "University is good. The studio spaces are nice, lots of light. The project is going okay, I think. I'm still trying to get the proportions right on these unfinished bodies. Bangkok is… a lot. Always busy and always nosy. But I'm getting used to it. The food stall downstairs has the best grilled pork. I ate there twice this week."
Jingwei hums, listening. "You mentioned that you were learning about ink?"
I laugh a little. "One of the second-years got too excited during the experiment. The bottle basically exploded. Black ink everywhere. It was on the table, on the floor, and on the ceiling. The kid looked like he'd been attacked by a squid. I felt bad for laughing, but I don't know how anyone could have kept it in, looking the way he was."
Jingwei's voice is dry but warm. "Did you help clean it up?"
"Of course. I'm not heartless." I switch to a softer charcoal. "He was very sorry. Kept bowing and saying 'khun kha' like it would fix the ceiling."
Jingwei makes a small, amused sound. "Sounds like your week has been eventful."
I smile. He cannot see it, not really, but he listens anyway. Jingwei always lets me talk, no matter how late it is for him or what he is doing. He listens like my rambling is the most important thing happening anywhere, which is objectively untrue but still nice. I love this about him. He is basically the human equivalent of finding a forgotten snack in your bag when you are starving (which just happens to be your all-time favorite snack). He really is the bestest best brother in the whole world.
I keep working on the shoulder line while I talk. "The series is going okay so far. The table read was intense. Lots of people. The lead actor, Prinya, is tall and broad-shouldered. He has a strong jawline and these dark almond eyes that don't miss much. He seemed kind, but a little standoffish when we spoke."
Jingwei is quiet for a beat. Then he asks, "How does the chemistry feel on set?"
"It's… fine. Professional. We only did a few scenes." I switch to modeling clay. "Anyway, the light in the studio here is really nice in the afternoon—"
"Who is that man you're painting in the background?" Jingwei asks, calm and direct.
I glance behind me at the easel. The half-finished figure is there; the strong jaw and those watchful almond eyes.
"Oh, that? Just… practice. Someone from the set. Interesting face for studies. Nothing important."
Jingwei lets it go. He noticed, obviously. He always notices. I do not know how he does it. Maybe he has a secret training manual for older brothers. I do not want to think about this right now. Moving on.
Jingwei hums. Then, very calmly: "Is he someone you'd trust?"
I pause, the clay hovering in my hand. "Yeah. I think so. He's quiet, but not in a cold way. More like he's careful, I guess. He watches everything, kinda like you do. And when he spoke to me, it felt genuine, like he actually wanted to hear my answer. I don't know. He just seems like someone who means what he says. I feel comfortable around him, which is rare for me with new people, or any people..."
Jingwei says nothing for a long second. When he finally speaks, his voice is even quieter than usual.
"Good."
That is it. No follow-up. No comment. Just one word, dropped like a stone in a pond. It lands heavier than usual. I feel it.
I move on to other things. "The set is huge, and it has lots of natural light during the day, which is nice for sketching, just like Pim promised. During rehearsal, we had to do this scene where my character plays something quiet on the guqin, and the whole room got really still. Even the crew stopped whispering. I felt kinda weird. I don't really like everyone's attention on me."
A small pause.
"Prinya was watching from the side. He doesn't say much, but when he does, it's like everyone leans in a little."
"Oh, and I met this actor named Nanon. He's playing my bandmate in a few episodes. He actually knows music, I mean, like really knows it, you know? We talked about playlists after the read-through. He seems like someone I could be friends with. He also shared his playlist with me. I thought it was pretty cool."
Jingwei listens. He doesn't comment.
Later, while I'm describing the weird coffee machine in the studio break room, it slips out one more time.
"They have this one scene coming up where my character has to play while Prinya's character is just… listening. The director wants it to feel intimate. I'm a little nervous about it."
Jingwei is quiet for a beat. Then he asks, very casually, "What time do your rehearsals usually finish?"
I answer without thinking. "Around seven or eight, depending on the day."
He makes a small sound of acknowledgment.
Then he asks, "How is the 'Unfinished Bodies' project going?"
I nudge the phone with my wrist, clay still in my hands, "It is going well, or at least it is going. I am trying to make a body that looks unfinished but not abandoned, like it is halfway between becoming something and falling apart. The wax on the surface melts, looking like skin that has decided to quit early. I also stitched fabric into the places where the structure gave up, so it looks like the material is holding itself together out of sheer stubbornness." I turn the clay over, "It is more personal than I meant it to be. Technically, I mean."
Jingwei doesn't respond immediately. "Technically," he repeats, gently.
"Yeah." I go back to sketching. "It's about form."
Jingwei listens. Then he says, very quietly, "You seem to be spending a lot of time on one particular figure."
It's not quite a question. Not quite a statement. Just a calm observation hanging in the air.
I laugh, light and cheerful. "It's just practice, Gege. Interesting lines. Good subject for studies."
Jingwei lets it go.
"Okay."
We talk a little longer about nothing important. Then, at the end, Jingwei simply says, "Be careful with yourself, Xiao Wei."
"I will," I say. "I promise."
There's a small beat of silence between us. Comfortable. Familiar.
"Love you, Gege."
"Love you too, Little Blue," he replies.
The call ends warmly, without ceremony.
I put the phone down. The unfinished figure is still on the table, looking at me as if waiting for instructions. I pick up the charcoal. The lines are still looking like they are on an expedition to find the meaning of life.
For a second, I wonder what it would be like if someone looked at me the way Prinya did. Quiet. Steady. Like he was actually seeing me, not just the new guy with a guqin.
The thought leaves as fast as it arrived. I do not chase it.
You know what, I think I'll just keep drawing. Just keep drawing, drawing, drawing, drawing.