There are a lot of things Win 'Som Chai' Chairak are not. He's not particularly smart or rich. He's not extraordinarily good looking, and he's not hideously ugly either. He's not someone who usually puts himself into harms way for strangers, and he is not cruel. But today, he is a dumbass caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.

So that is why, even though he knew he probably shouldn't get involved, he was currently hiding behind a dumpster in the alley behind his part-time job. Only a few meters away a group of about six people were ganging up on a guy. The guy was getting in several kicks and punches against his attackers, but when two of them grabbed his arms he had little chance of getting away.

The man yelled out as one of the thugs started punching him in the stomach. Then, Win caught sight of something shiny that reflected the dim light in the alley, and he had barely enough time to register it before the thug plunged the knife into the caught guy's stomach.

Win's eyes widened as he saw it, and a pained scream echoed through the dingy alley.

"Your old man would probably get the message if we send him your corpse, right?" the thug with the knife snickered as he took a step back and pulled the knife out from where it sat embedded, and grinned as the formerly pristine white shirt bloomed with blood.

"Fuck you." The guy groaned out. The man with the knife took a step forward and put his twisted, sneering face close to the wounded guy's.

"Wanna repeat that, you little shit?" he hissed, holding up the knife to the side of them, showing off the stained blade.

With wide eyes Win watched as the stabbed guy leaned his head back for a moment before throwing it forward with as much force as he could muster. His forehead slammed into the thug's head, and the thug yowled and stumbled backwards before falling onto the ground. "Fuck you, bitch." The guy said again.

The guys holding him tightened their hold, but it didn't seem like there was much need for it as the guy slumped forward. He had lost a lot of blood already.

Fuming and spluttering the guy on the ground scrambled to his feet and picked up the knife. "This fucker is dead!" he roared as he started to walk back towards the guy who was probably bleeding out. Looking around him, Win tried to look for someone, something that could help diffuse the situation. Or was he going to sit here and watch another person get murdered?

After looking at the area, he saw a few bottles stacked next to the dumpster. Without thinking, he grabbed one and chucked it over the group of thugs, and towards the entrance of the alley where it smashed against the ground.

The loud sound of breaking glass made the thug with the knife stop. They looked at each other and the alley opening. "Should we leave, boss?" one of the henchmen asked as he looked around.

"We need to kill him first, idiot. The boss won't be happy if the message hasn't been delivered." The man with the knife sneered and took a step forward.

Win's hand tightened around another bottle, but a metal door slamming behind him made him, as well as the thugs, jump in surprise.

"Hey! Help me with the bags, you asshole! They're fucking heavy!" a man yelled from behind him. Win turned around and saw that the restaurant at the end of the street, three doors further down, was open and a young man was walking out while struggling with two large garbage bags.

Turning back around, Win could see that the thugs were hesitating as well. "Fuck it," the man with the knife growled and folded the knife down before he pushed it into his pocket. "We'd better leave."

"But what about this guy?" One of the henchmen asked.

"Leave him. Let him bleed to death. He can't be too far off already. Let's go." The guys holding the stabbed guy let him go and Win saw how he fell to the dirty ground without even making a sound.

The gang of thugs ran off and Win waited for a few minutes to make sure the coast was clear. He also heard the door close further down the alley, and it startled him again as all his attention was fixed on the guy on the ground in front of him.

Those minutes were some of the longest in Win's life, and he kept thinking the man was going to bleed out before he could get to him.

Once he was fairly certain the thugs were gone he hurried out from behind the dumpster and knelt next to the bleeding guy.

He pushed at the man's shoulder, making him roll onto his back. The guy groaned as he was pushed over, and Win sighed in relief that the guy wasn't dead. "Can you hear me?" he asked, patting at the guy's cheek.

The only reply he got was a pained groan before he fell silent again. Win was starting to panic when an old folk-song began playing. He looked around, confused at first, but found that it came from the guys pocket.

"Sorry, sorry..." he mumbled as he fumbled to pull out the phone from the wet pocket.

He looked down at the slightly blood smeared screen and saw 'Aawut'. Win almost laughed at the irony of it, but tried to get his shaking hands to accept the call. He nearly dropped the phone when a booming voice started speaking.

"Young master? Where are you? Are you okay?"

Win's eyes widened again, and he looked over to the guy in front of him. Was he a 'Young Master', or a 'Young Master'. "Um..."

"Who is this? Where's the young master? If he's hurt, I'll carve you up and throw you in the Chao Phraya river!"

Win swallowed thickly and tried to ignore the treats. After all, he was only trying to help, and they wouldn't hurt him for that... right? "Well... I... I don't know if this is your y... Young Master... but... there's a stabbed guy in an alley. I walked past and saw him, but he's unconscious... I think..." he said.

The man was silent for a moment before his voice came through the phone once more. "Where?"

Win gave him the address, and the man on the phone, Aawut, said he'd be there in ten minutes.

He looked at the man lying beside him and pulled his apron off. He rolled it up and pressed it against the would, hopefully putting enough pressure on it so the blood wouldn't flow as fast. Somehow he managed to maneuver the guy enough to be able to tie the apron around the guys waist, so he could make his escape before the angry-sounding man could come and think that all of this was somehow his fault!

Shaking his head he brushed off his knees and was about to stand up when a hand grabbed his wrist. He yelped and tried to scramble away, but the grip was surprisingly strong.

"Who..." came a raspy voice, and Win looked at the owner of the arm. The guy he had thought was unconscious was staring at him with intense eyes.

Win had no idea what to say, and instead he was staring at the guy as if mesmerized. Those deep brown eyes were the most amazing eyes he had ever seen, and Win almost forgot how to breathe.