As the melancholic, beautiful piano intro of Tum Hi Ho began to play over the cafe's speakers, the restless, chattering guests at the scene quieted down one after another.
Almost all the guests in the open-air cafe were from Europe, America, or the Middle East. It was their first time hearing such a deeply soulful, cinematic Indian melody in a casual beach setting. In an instant, everyone's eyes were fixed on Rahul on the stage.
When the brief instrumental prelude ended, Rahul brought the microphone to his lips, and a rich, resonant melody flowed out.
The timbre of his voice was incredibly pleasant, carrying a deep, magnetic gravel, and his pitch control was absolutely flawless.
Standing below the stage, holding the camera, Wannida's originally expectant gaze instantly turned into a look of profound, pleasant surprise the second Rahul sang the very first line!
Oh my god!
This is what Rahul meant by only knowing how to sing 'a little bit'?!
This timbre, this breath control, this pitch! It's even more standard and powerful than the professional vocal coaches the company hired from the Bangkok Conservatory to teach her! Rahul was being way too modest!
The cafe owner, who had just been sweating bullets worrying that Rahul might butcher the vibe, immediately felt his racing heart settle.
Is this an Indian song? How can it be so beautiful! Why does it feel like scenes from an epic, tragic romance movie are playing in my head?
As Rahul sang with deep, unrestrained emotion, the foreign tourists sitting in their booths were entirely captivated. This kind of cinematic, soulful ballad seemed to transport them out of the chaotic neon lights of Pattaya and into a deeply intimate, emotional space.
"Tere liye hi jiya main... khud ko jo yun de diya hai..."
(I have lived only for you... I have given myself to you like this...)
As Rahul reached the soaring chorus, his unique baritone vibrato left Wannida completely mesmerized.
A gentle sea breeze blew past, and an image seemed to vividly appear in her mind. In the image, she was standing in the pouring rain, looking up at Rahul, pouring out her heart to him. For some reason, entirely unprompted, a single tear slid down the corner of Wannida's eye.
At this moment, she felt an absurd, overwhelming thought: she and Rahul must have been lovers in a past life.
The magic of true music can transcend language, time, and borders. It brings people an infinite room for imagination. The foreigners in the cafe unknowingly slowed their breathing as they listened to Rahul's melodious singing.
As another sea breeze blew through, the white linen fabric hanging in the cafe fluttered in the wind like slow-motion cinema.
At this moment, in the most popular cafe on Pattaya's Jomtien Beach, the Hindi song performed by Rahul brought a rare, profound sense of tranquility to everyone's hearts.
The song ended. The final piano chord faded out, and even after the accompaniment stopped completely, no one at the scene made a sound for several seconds. Only the rhythmic sound of the waves breaking on the shore filled the silence.
Suddenly, the cafe owner took the lead in applauding.
What started as sparse clapping turned into a thunderous, standing ovation in an instant.
"Oh my god! Which country's song is this? It's actually so beautiful!"
"I agree, mate! This song has given me such a huge surprise!"
"I don't understand a single word, but his voice made me feel like I was watching a masterpiece romance!"
Several middle-aged expats from Europe and America applauded generously, their mouths full of praise.
It just so happened that a group of Indian tourists from Delhi were sitting in the booth next to them. At this moment, one of the guys stood up and shouted excitedly in English:
"That is a song from India! Our brother is singing a Bollywood masterpiece!"
He then switched to Hindi, yelling toward the stage, "Bhai, that was amazing! You really made us proud! One more song! Sing another one!"
Meanwhile, in a dark corner of the cafe, several young men who looked like Korean backpackers glared at Rahul with disdainful expressions.
"Shibal, that sounds terrible. It's not even at the level of our local noraebang (karaoke)."
The Indian guy nearby heard these Koreans muttering aggressively. Although he couldn't understand Korean, everyone in Asia knew the curse word 'Shibal'. And from the hostile glares of these guys, he guessed they certainly weren't giving a compliment.
The Delhi guy immediately stood up, puffed his chest out, and hurled a colorful, aggressive Hindi curse directly back at them. The Korean backpackers were intimidated by the sheer size and aura of the Indian group, and their eyes immediately darted away, not daring to meet their gazes.
At this time, by the side of the stage.
It wasn't until Rahul walked down the small wooden steps that Wannida finally came back to her senses.
Now, the way she looked at Rahul had completely changed. The pure curiosity was gone; it was replaced by the unhideable softness and honey-like sweetness that appears in a young girl's eyes when she is looking at someone she genuinely likes.
When Rahul approached, Wannida was so excited that she ignored all her idol-training etiquette and lunged directly into his arms.
"You big liar!" she squeaked, burying her face in his chest. "You sing so beautifully, yet you lied to me saying you only knew 'a little bit'!"
"I love listening to you sing so much!"
At this moment, the cafe owner rushed forward, pressing his palms together and giving Rahul a solemn, deep Thai bow.
"Sir, could I please invite you to sing a few more songs? Your voice is truly wonderful! The price is completely negotiable; you can name any amount!"
Rahul gently pushed away Wannida, who was still clinging to his shirt, shook his head at the owner, and declined politely: "I'm sorry, I'm just doing this for fun. I'm not a performer."
As soon as he finished speaking, Wannida pouted. She grabbed Rahul's solid arm, shaking it back and forth like a spoiled child.
"Please, Rahul, just one more song!"
"Or how about this—I promised the owner I would sing, so why don't you come on stage with me and we do a duet?"
Wannida pressed her soft body tightly against his arm, shaking it continuously. Rahul felt the warmth of her touch, and the incredibly sweet, floral fragrance of a young girl drifted into his nostrils.
Rahul felt that if he refused Wannida's bright, pleading eyes right now, it would be a literal crime against romance.
"Alright, alright, I'll go on stage with you."
"Great!" Wannida jumped up happily. "Can you sing Thai songs? Or English pop songs?"
Rahul thought for a moment. Thanks to the Music Mastery skill, he could perfectly replicate anything he had heard. A wildly popular English pop song that was currently dominating global TikTok trends popped into his head.
"Do you know how to sing 'Perfect' by Ed Sheeran?"
As soon as Wannida heard the name, her head immediately bobbed like a chick pecking at rice. "Yes! I love that song very much! I've practiced it a hundred times!"
"Then I'll accompany you," Rahul said, pointing to the electronic stage keyboard left by the previous band.
Wannida's eyes widened in shock. "You can play instruments too?!"
"Just a little bit."
"Then let's go! Rahul, play for me!"
Wannida impatiently pulled Rahul back onto the stage. The guests below immediately burst into another round of loud, encouraging applause. The Thai waiters, seeing a famous rising idol taking the stage, were uncontrollably excited.
Wannida placed her DJI camera on top of a tall speaker to record them and picked up the microphone.
Rahul pulled up the chord progression for Perfect on his phone just to be safe and took a seat at the electronic keyboard. The moment his fingertips touched the plastic keys, muscle memory he never knew he had flooded his system. He felt as if he had been playing the piano his entire life!
As Rahul's fingertips fell, a beautiful, flawless acoustic piano melody drifted out.
Wannida raised the microphone to her red lips, and a breathtakingly sweet, angelic melody was sung out into the night air.
Everyone present was intoxicated by Wannida's vocal control.
When she reached the chorus, she didn't look at the audience. Instead, she turned and gazed deeply, affectionately at Rahul as he played.
"Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms..."
"Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song..."
As the song ended on a final, lingering piano chord, Rahul's hands left the keys.
Turning his head, he met Wannida's burning, doe-like gaze, which was now completely overflowing with the undeniable affection of first love.
At this moment, even with his worldly experience, Rahul felt his heart skip a genuine beat.