Chapter Text
CHAPTER ONE: THE GHOST RETURNS
📍 GMMTV Headquarters, Bangkok
🕐 9:47 AM, Audition Day
🌧️ It's raining. Because of course it is.
The bathroom smelled like bleach, desperation, and someone else's expensive cologne.
Pik stared at his reflection in the flickering fluorescent lights, his fingers trembling as he dabbed a thick layer of concealer over his scent gland. A beta's scent gland was small, almost invisible. An omega's was prominent, sensitive, scandalous. His was just... there. A useless patch of skin that produced exactly nothing.
"You're a ghost, Pik."
His mother's voice echoed in his head, sharp and disappointed. "No scent. No value. The best thing you can do is pretend you're a beta and never let anyone know your true designation. Do you understand? No alpha will want you. No omega will respect you. You are nothing."
Pik blinked hard, forcing back the heat behind his eyes.
FOCUS. He couldn't cry. Crying made his eyes red, and red eyes on a scentless "beta" just made people uncomfortable. He'd learned that lesson in middle school when an alpha had cornered him in the locker room, sniffing aggressively, demanding to know why he "smelled like nothing."
"Are you broken?" the alpha had sneered. "Or just worthless?"
Pik had laughed it off. He'd become an expert at laughing things off.
He checked his phone. The screen lit up with a YouTube tutorial: "HOW TO PASS AS A BETA: 5 TIPS FROM AN ACTUAL BETA." He'd watched it seventeen times. The girl on the screen had a real beta's scent—light and neutral, like fresh laundry. Pik would kill to smell like fresh laundry. Hell, he'd kill to smell like anything.
His thumb hovered over the photo gallery. He shouldn't open it. He knew he shouldn't open it.
He opened it.
A blurry, years-old photo stared back at him. Two boys on a Bangkok playground, the sky a hazy orange sunset behind them. One boy was smiling so wide his eyes disappeared into happy crescents—Pik, age eleven, missing a front tooth. The other boy was looking at him like he hung the moon, a hand on Pik's shoulder, holding him close like he was something precious.
Jai.
Pik's throat tightened. He remembered that day. They'd shared a chocolate ice cream cone that melted all over their fingers. Jai had laughed, wiped Pik's cheek with his thumb, and said, "You're my favorite person, Pi. My only favorite person."
Two weeks later, Jai's family moved away without saying goodbye. Pik had waited at the playground for hours, clutching a friendship bracelet he'd made, watching the cars go by until his mother dragged him home.
Jai never called. Never wrote. Never came back.
Until today.
Pik shoved his phone back in his pocket, heart hammering. He'd heard the rumors. Jai had become huge. An S-Tier Enigma, the rarest and most powerful alpha designation in existence. He was the head trainer at GMMTV's idol program, a producer, a songwriter, a literal demigod in the entertainment industry.
And Pik? Pik was a twenty-year-old nobody, standing in a bathroom, trying to hide his non-existent scent with drugstore makeup.
"Pik? You're up in five!"
A trainee assistant poked her head in, her omega scent sweet and floral. She smiled at him—kind, but pitying. The kind of smile people gave betas. "You're so brave for trying out," the smile said. "You're probably not getting in, but it's cute that you're trying."
"Coming!" Pik chirped, his voice bright and fake. He'd perfected that voice. It was the voice he used when alphas asked him why he didn't have a scent. The voice he used when people pitied him. The voice he used when he wanted to disappear.
He smoothed down his borrowed designer jacket (rented, because he couldn't afford real ones) and stepped into the hallway. The GMMTV building was a maze of polished concrete and glass, all sharp angles and cold luxury. Trainees milled around like pretty, scented cattle—alphas with their expensive colognes, omegas with their sweet perfumes. Pik walked among them like a ghost, invisible and unsmellable.
The audition room was massive. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked Bangkok's grey skyline, rain streaking down the glass like tears. A long table sat in front, occupied by producers, choreographers, and label executives. Their scents mingled into a nauseating cocktail of power and ambition.
But Pik barely noticed them.
Because sitting in the center of the table, looking like he'd been carved from marble and spite, was Jai.
Pik's brain short-circuited.
Jai had grown up. Obviously. But "grown up" was an understatement. He was devastating. Tall, broad-shouldered, with sharp cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. His hair was artfully messy, black as ink, and his eyes—those same warm brown eyes Pik remembered—were now cold and assessing, like he could see through to your soul.
He was wearing all black. A silk button-up, unbuttoned just enough to show a hint of collarbone. Designer sunglasses pushed up into his hair like he was too famous to bother with them properly.
His scent hit Pik like a physical blow.
It was intense. Burnt amber and sandalwood, dark and electric, crackling with an energy that made the air feel thick. It was the scent of power. Of dominance. Of absolute, unquestionable control.
The alphas in the room had automatically lowered their heads, their own scents submissive and weak in comparison. An omega in the corner was trembling, overwhelmed.
Pik smelled nothing.
His scent gland was dead. Useless. He couldn't even appreciate the most powerful alpha in the room because his body was too broken to register it.
"You are nothing."
"Next," a bored producer called.
Pik stepped forward. His legs felt like jelly. His heart was a jackhammer in his chest. He could feel Jai's gaze on him—bored, dismissive, cold.
He doesn't remember me.
He doesn't remember me.
"Pik, right?" the producer read from the clipboard. "Beta. Vocalist. Any special talents?"
Pik opened his mouth. Nothing came out.
Say something, you idiot. Say something.
"I—" His voice cracked. An alpha in the corner snickered. Pik's face burned.
And then—
Jai's head snapped up.
For the first time since he'd walked in, Jai actually looked at him. His eyes widened. His pupils dilated so fast it was almost visible. His scent spiked—a sudden wave of something so powerful that a trainee nearest to him gasped and stumbled backward.
Recognition. Shock. And something else. Something dark and primal and hungry.
Pik's breath caught.
He remembers.
He remembers me.
Jai's jaw tightened. His hands, resting on the table, clenched into fists. He looked like a man who'd just seen a ghost.
And then—
His expression slammed shut.
He looked away. Deliberately. Coldly. Like Pik was just another trainee. Like they'd never shared ice cream and secrets on a Bangkok playground. Like he was nothing.
"Next," Jai said, his voice flat and dismissive. "We don't have all day."
Pik's heart shattered.
📍 Jai's Private Office, GMMTV
🕐 10:15 AM
The door slammed shut.
Jai stood in the middle of his office, breathing hard. His hands were shaking. His entire body was vibrating with an energy he couldn't control, a primal need that made him want to claw his own skin off.
He's here.
He's here, he's here, he's here—
Jai threw a chair across the room. It crashed into the wall, splintering. He didn't care. He couldn't breathe.
"Pik."
The name tore out of him like a wound. He hadn't said it in years. Hadn't allowed himself to think it. Had buried that memory so deep he'd almost convinced himself it didn't exist.
The boy with no scent. The boy who looked at him like he was the sun. The boy who made his heart race when he was eleven years old and didn't understand why.
Jai had spent a decade trying to forget him. Trying to move on. Trying to become something other than the terrified kid who'd been dragged away from his only friend by parents who couldn't handle his "developing" alpha instincts.
But now Pik was here.
And he was—
"Beta," Jai spat, pacing like a caged animal. "He's a beta. A beta. I'll destroy him. I'll break him. I can't—"
His inner alpha was screaming. MINE, MINE, MINE. CLAIM HIM. TAKE HIM. MAKE HIM OURS.
But that was impossible. Jai was an S-Tier Enigma. His instincts were too powerful, too aggressive, too violent for a beta. He'd read the statistics. Enigmas who bonded with betas often killed them—accidentally, during a rut, when their instincts took over and they couldn't stop.
He remembered Pik's face in that audition room. The fear. The confusion. The desperate, hopeful look in his eyes that Jai had immediately crushed.
He looked at me like I still mattered.
Jai punched the wall. His knuckles split open, bleeding. He barely felt it.
"FUCK!"
He couldn't be near Pik. Couldn't breathe the same air as him. Couldn't watch those big, innocent eyes look at him with anything other than terror.
Because if Pik looked at him with love?
If Pik showed him even a fraction of the affection he'd shown that eleven-year-old boy?
Jai would lose control.
And Pik—his scentless, fragile, beautiful Pik—would be the one who suffered.
Jai pressed his forehead to the cool glass of the window, watching the rain streak down the city.
I have to stay away from him.
I have to protect him.
Even if it kills me.
📍 The Hallway, GMMTV
🕐 10:20 AM
Pik stumbled out of the audition room.
He didn't make it far. His knees buckled, and he collapsed against the wall, sliding down until he was a crumpled heap on the cold floor.
His chest was heaving. His vision was swimming. He felt like he was dying.
He remembers me.
He remembers me and he doesn't care.
He looked at me like I was nothing.
Pik's hands came up to his face, pressing against his eyes. He couldn't cry. He couldn't. His eyes would get red and someone would notice and they'd ask questions he couldn't answer.
"Are you okay, beta boy?" An alpha had sneered at him once. "Did someone hurt your feelings? Aw, that's so cute."
Pik had laughed then. Laughed and laughed until the alpha walked away, confused.
He was always laughing. Always smiling. Always pretending.
But right now, in this empty hallway, with the taste of rejection still bitter on his tongue?
Pik let himself be broken.
"He doesn't remember me," he whispered to the empty air. "Or worse—he remembers and he hates me."
Jai had looked at him like a stranger. Like a nuisance. Like something to be dismissed and forgotten.
You are nothing.
Pik had spent his whole life being nothing. A ghost. A beta with no scent and no value. And he'd convinced himself that if he could just be successful—if he could just become an idol, make something of himself—then maybe he'd finally exist.
But Jai's cold dismissal had confirmed his worst fear.
Even the person who'd once called him "my favorite person" couldn't see him.
Pik pulled his knees to his chest, pressing his forehead against them.
The rain continued to fall outside. Bangkok was grey and damp and unforgiving.
And Pik was alone.
📍 GMMTV Trainee Dorms, Bangkok
🕐 11:00 PM
Pik sat on his tiny twin bed, staring at the ceiling.
The dorm was cramped and loud. Trainees were everywhere—practicing choreography in the hallways, arguing over the kitchen, making out in the common room like they didn't have an audience.
Pik had managed to snag a corner room. It was small, with a single window overlooking a neon-lit street and a bathroom that smelled faintly of mold. But it was his. A space he could hide in.
His phone buzzed. A group chat with the other trainees.
⚠️ NEW MESSAGE: JAI'S ARRIVING TOMORROW FOR FIRST TRAINING SESSION. BE PREPARED. HE'S BRUTAL.
Pik's stomach dropped.
Tomorrow.
He was going to have to see Jai again. Tomorrow. In person. In a confined space where he couldn't run away.
Pik rolled over, burying his face in his pillow. The fabric smelled like cheap detergent and his own nothingness.
Maybe I should quit.
Maybe I should go home and accept that I'm never going to be anything.
Maybe Jai was right to look at me like that. I am nothing.
His phone buzzed again.
📱 MESSAGE FROM UNKNOWN NUMBER:
"10:00 AM. Practice Room A. Don't be late."
Pik stared at the message. His heart stopped.
Jai.
Jai had his number. Jai had messaged him. Jai was singling him out for something.
Pik's fingers shook as he typed back.
"Who is this?"
"You know who."
A pause.
"I need to see you. Alone. Tomorrow before training."
Pik's breath caught.
Alone?
His mind was racing, spinning, spiraling. What did Jai want? Why did he want to see him alone? Was he going to apologize? Humiliate him further? Claim him? Kill him?
Pik didn't know. He didn't know anything anymore.
"Okay," he typed back, his thumb hovering over the send button.
He pressed it.
📍 Practice Room A, GMMTV
🕐 9:50 AM, The Next Day
Pik stood in the empty practice room, his heart hammering so loudly he was sure the whole building could hear it.
The room was huge—mirrored walls, polished floors, a state-of-the-art sound system. It smelled like sweat and ambition and the ghost of every trainee who'd fought to make it here.
Pik was alone.
For now.
The door creaked open.
Jai walked in.
He was wearing a black tank top and sweatpants, his hair wet like he'd just showered. His muscles were visible, toned and powerful, moving beneath his skin like a predator. His scent filled the room immediately—that same burnt amber and sandalwood, electric and overwhelming.
Pik couldn't breathe.
He's so close. He's right there. He—
Jai stopped a few feet away. His eyes were fixed on Pik, unreadable and intense.
"You're early," Jai said. His voice was low, rough. Like he hadn't slept.
"So are you," Pik managed, his voice cracking.
Jai stepped closer. Closer. Pik had to tilt his head up to meet his eyes.
"You didn't smell like anything," Jai murmured, almost to himself. "Even when you were a kid. I thought it was because you were young. I thought—" He broke off, jaw tightening. "But you're a beta. You've always been a beta."
Pik opened his mouth. The truth was right there, burning on his tongue.
I'm not a beta. I'm an omega. A scentless, broken, worthless omega.
But the words wouldn't come.
Because if Jai knew the truth—if he knew that Pik wasn't just a "beta" but a defective omega—he'd look at him with even more disgust. He'd think Pik was pathetic. Broken. Unworthy.
You are nothing.
"Yes," Pik whispered instead, the lie tasting like ash. "I'm a beta."
Jai's expression flickered. Something dark and possessive flared in his eyes. He reached out, one hand cupping Pik's jaw, tilting his face up.
"Then I have a problem," Jai said, his voice barely a growl. "Because I can't stop thinking about you. And if you're a beta, and I'm an Enigma, I'm going to destroy you."
Pik's heart stopped.
"What?"
"I can't be near you, Pik." Jai's grip tightened, gentle but firm. "I can't control myself around you. My instincts—they're screaming at me to claim you, to bite you, to—" He broke off, his breathing ragged. "But you're a beta. A fragile, scentless beta. And I will not be responsible for breaking you."
Jai let go.
He stepped back, his expression slamming shut like a door.
"So here's what's going to happen," he said coldly. "I'm going to direct my attention elsewhere. I'm going to train you, but I won't touch you. I won't look at you. I won't even acknowledge you're in the room."
Pik felt like he'd been punched in the gut.
"Why?"
"Because it's the only way I can protect you."
Jai turned his back.
"Stay away from me, Pik. For your own safety."
And he walked out, leaving Pik standing alone in the empty practice room, more invisible than ever.