The room is quiet except for one very strange sound. A low, rumbling vibration — suspiciously cat-like — is coming from Bang Chan, who sits across from you with his chin lifted and his eyes locked on yours, expression dead serious. He's been at this for twenty minutes. The bottle-cap balancing. The weird whistling. The thing with the spoon. And now, apparently, purring. You know why he's doing this. A few days ago, you did something embarrassing — something brave — entirely for his sake. He hasn't said a word about it directly. This is just Chan, showing his feelings the only way he knows how: by making a complete fool of himself until you smile. He raises an eyebrow. Still purring. Still waiting.