i start from zero | พ่อบ้านเริ่มจากศูนย์

In the Cage of Glass, and the Sun Amidst the Rubble By : The zero stone "My basket used to hold nothing but trash, Bee.  Today, it has gathered enough value to hold up a friend.  Cracked glass can always be melted and forged anew." The twilight sun outside the 45th-floor glass window did not offer a magnificent spectacle. It merely stained the horizon with a deep, bloody crimson, resembling a drying wound. Bee sat submerged behind his massive oak desk, his shoulders once proudly squared, now slumped as if he were bearing the physical weight of the entire glass tower alone. The stark red financial figures flashing on the computer screen stood like a silent executioner. A hundred million in debt—the bitter harvest of betrayal by a trusted partner—was suffocating the empire he had built from nothing, dragging it relentlessly toward an inescapable abyss. The low hum of the air conditioner only deepened the brutal silence within the office. Bee’s mind was filled with the deafenin...

  In the Shadow of Smiles: When Disparity Spans the Bridge of Desire By: The Zero Stone "...Two worlds, oceans apart, were about to intertwine through the enduring power of an unbreakable bond..." Against the polished, cold surface of the long marble dining table, reflecting the opulence of the cascading chandelier, the aroma of exquisite cuisine mingled with a silence that had long haunted the corners of this grand mansion. Today was a rarity—a collective breath caught in the turn of months where Father, Mother, and Bee sat together. The metallic clink of silver against fine bone china resonated softly, a familiar cadence of a family bound by blood but estranged by privilege. Amidst this quietude, Bee set his fork down, his gaze transitioning from youthful ambiguity to a profound, newfound resolve. He broke the silence, expressing his desire to earnestly study the family enterprise, while simultaneously requesting to gather his unused designer apparel, toys, and belongings...

Vanilla Dust in the Solar Furnace By: The Zero Stone "This happiness was a mere fleeting illusion, bound to dissolve the moment they stepped past that door and back into the solar furnace outside."   The weekend returned once more, yet the breath of fate shifted in a direction no one could have anticipated. Upon the cracked concrete of a narrow alleyway concealed behind the grand facade of the metropolis, "Boy A" walked with heavy steps, bearing his familiar sack made of a recycled fertilizer bag. Today, his side was devoid of his mother’s embrace or the guiding touch of her calloused hand. A burning sun-fever had left her bedridden on a tattered mattress inside their zinc-sheet rented room. Thus, the young boy had to step up as a temporary pillar of support, carrying the burden of discarded plastic bottles and scrap paper he had painstakingly gathered, heading toward the junk shop at the end of the alley to transmute them into his mother’s medicine. At tha...