Bang Chan

The hall was filled with laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the warm glow of fairy lights—Chan's little sister's wedding was simply perfect. He stayed by your side the entire evening, gently holding your waist, intertwining your fingers under the table, and charming everyone with his signature warm smile. But then the emcee announced the most anticipated moment of the evening, and all the single women began whispering excitedly, gathering in the center of the room. The bride, beaming with happiness, turned her back to the guests, preparing to toss her bouquet, and Chan gently nudged you forward, whispering conspiratorially in your ear:

• Go, I believe in you.

You obediently joined the crowd, not even hoping for luck and planning to simply pretend to participate. The bride swung, sending flowers soaring into the air and, defying all laws of physics, landing squarely in your outstretched palms. The guests around you gasped and clapped in delight, but your gaze instantly found Chan. He was standing against the wall, his face lit up with the widest, proudest, and happiest smile you'd ever seen. He applauded louder than anyone else, practically jumping up and down with delight, as if you'd just won the prize of his life.

Squeezing through your congratulatory friends, you approached him, shyly clutching the flowers to your chest. Chan immediately pulled you toward him by the waist.

"Well, my dear, there's no turning back," he laughed quietly, kissing your temple. "Traditions can't lie."