“Have you ever sat by the seaside and heard the winds rustle by, oozing with this silent, salty sweetness that percolates into your soul. If you have, it’s time to let you in on a secret. You’ve heard about the power, haven’t you?”

The specks of gold in his eyes lit up as he came closer to the burning bonfire on the beach. A group of 23-year-olds sat there, sipping on the SangSom bucket, one at a time, freckled with goosebumps, hanging onto every word that left his cracked lips.

“I don’t believe in all superstitions, power and all that crap is good for stories.” Said one as she stared at him in his eyes. 

“Oh! It is time to make you believe then.”

The dramatic pause in his story left them wide-eyed, hungry for more, when he finally whispered, “It’s the calm before the storm. These winds carry a curse. Beware, or they’ll never let you leave! You’re imprisoned.” He snapped one finger and all of a sudden, the bonfire died out. The silence was filled with silent screaming. The friends screamed into the night but nothing was heard. It was either too dark to see anything or the old man had vanished. They couldn’t tell what happened in that moment. But everything just strangely seemed different. The winds were rustling a little more. The line of bars and pubs along that stretch at the beach had vanished too. They were alone, cold, and very, very scared. But the bucket of SangSom was still on the table with them. They began sipping on it again, at least the icy bucket was giving them some amount of warmth. “Where did the old man go?” One of them finally found the courage to speak up and stammered as his eyes searched the isolated beach around. A dancing flame showed itself in the distance. He saw it approaching slowly towards them but as it came closer something strange happened. It was a man carrying a man running towards them. On noticing another human being on this dreaded beach they screamed, “HELP! WHERE ARE WE? CAN YOU HELP US?” The words weren’t escaping from their lips. 

The man looked through them and ran past.

“How rude,” said the boy, this time downing the remaining bucket. He ran after the man, not knowing what he was running after. He wasn’t just going to sit there and just wait for someone to help them. He was going to get this sorted once and for all.

But then, as he turned the bend something it all unfolded. The old man and his friends sat there, watching a screen. Laughing their guts out as the group of 23 year olds looked terrified in the middle of the beach, holding hands and praying. It looked like a shoot set up. And they were on prime time television. Well, at least they were getting famous.