Chapter 4
Soon, a formal clarification was published on their company’s website to satisfy their clients.
"Yes, a long-standing friendship has blossomed into a beautiful relationship. While we regret the incident during the board meeting, rest assured that everything is under control. None of this will affect our work—if anything, it will only drive us to deliver even better results. Our marketing campaigns will exceed expectations, ensuring remarkable success in sales." A long declaration bulletin was out just like that.
Publishing this statement was enough. After all, they only needed to control the narrative among their clients—outside of business circles, no one really cared. They weren’t celebrities, after all.
But damage control came at a cost.
To restore their company’s reputation, they had to produce results beyond expectations for the upcoming festive season. That meant double the workload—no vacations, no Thanksgiving, no Christmas, no New Year’s celebrations. The peak season demanded their full dedication, and if they wanted to make up for the mess, they had no choice but to go all in.
While the world now believed Freen and Becky were a couple, everyone in the company knew the truth. They could barely stand each other. The tension between them was suffocating, and though the world saw romance, those who worked with them witnessed a battlefield.
Still, the news spread like wildfire, bringing an unexpected side effect—Becky’s personal life took a hit. Her private space was invaded with questions, teasing, and knowing looks. Meanwhile, Freen buried herself in work, too focused on hitting targets to care about anything else.
Yet, among their colleagues and friend group, only one question lingered:
"What was the reason?"
Nam and Kade sat together, watching the clip on loop, grinning ear to ear.
"I told you their chemistry is something else," Kade said smugly.
Nam shook her head. "Maybe. But I still wouldn't dare bring this up around them. Especially not when they’re in that mood—angry and grumpy all the time."
Kade giggled, hugging her phone. "Well, I’m never deleting this clip. It’s too sweet. I ship them!"
Nam gestured for her to lower her voice. "I’ve been shipping them for five years. This is a treasure for me!"
They both broke into laughter, but the question still hung in the air—
"What was the reason?"
Because the clip told only half the story.
The world saw Becky turning back at the door, grabbing Freen, and kissing her like a woman possessed.
But the missing part?
The context?
That Freen had kissed Becky first—purely to shut her up.
And no one dared to ask them for the truth. Not yet.
For now, work was all that mattered. And with the festive season chaos ahead, there was no time to dwell on anything else.
Despite their best efforts, working late nights and pushing themselves to the limit, one thing continued to disrupt their workflow—
Freen and Becky weren’t talking.
Not a single word. Not a single glance.
Three whole days had passed.
Becky had gone so far as to cover the glass walls and door of her cabin with curtains, shutting herself off completely. She refused to see Freen’s face, let alone work alongside her.
But marketing and sales go hand in hand.
No matter how much they tried to coordinate through emails, some things just couldn’t be explained through text. The lack of direct communication was starting to take a serious toll on their projects.
It was getting out of hand.
Their fathers had no choice but to step in. A meeting was called. And this time, there was no escaping it.
The next morning, both Freen and Becky rushed toward their respective cabins—only to find them locked.
Who in the world dared to go against them?
Confused and irritated, Freen stormed into the meeting room first, where Nam, Irin, and the rest of the team were already gathered—along with their fathers.
"My cabin is still locked. Why?" Freen demanded, her sharp gaze on Nam.
Before anyone could answer, Becky entered just as hastily, not even glancing around before blurting out, "Irin, what the he—"
She froze.
Freen was standing right beside her, looking just as confused as she was.
Their fathers motioned toward two empty chairs.
"Sit," Becky's dad ordered. "We locked your cabins because, until the festival season is over, you two will be working together in this boardroom. All your work files and materials have already been moved here."
"Without my permission?" Freen scoffed as she dropped into a chair.
Becky rolled her eyes but sat down in the other.
"Yeah, about that," Freen’s dad interjected, arms crossed. "We don’t need anyone’s permission."
"You two have already done enough damage. And now, instead of fixing it, you’re making things even harder for the entire team." Becky's dad’s voice carried a weight neither of them could argue against.
Silence.
They both knew it was true.
"You will call a truce, right here, right now," Freen’s dad continued. "Shake hands, give us the best results, and once this is over—you're free to do whatever the hell you want with your lives."
"Shake hands," Becky's dad echoed, arms crossed, waiting.
The entire room held its breath.
Neither of them moved.
Neither of them even looked at each other.
The weight of the silence in the room grew heavier with every passing second, thick with unspoken resentment.
Becky’s dad exhaled sharply before rising to his feet. "I said—"
"We call the truce!"
Nam and Irin, panicked, clasped their hands together in a mock handshake.
"We promise on their behalf that, from now on, they’ll work together," Nam declared hastily.
"Yeah, we’ll make sure of that, sir," Irin added, nodding way too quickly.
Meanwhile, Freen and Becky remained in their seats, arms crossed, eyes fixed anywhere but on each other. Their expressions were sulky, their bodies relaxed—but deep down, they both knew.
This was the only way forward.
"Good. Then it’s settled," Becky's dad said, fixing them with a stern look. "No more complaints. Or—you both take a vacation. Go off, do whatever the hell you want—kiss each other, kill each other—" He huffed. "Frankly, we still don’t even know the reason for either."
Freen’s dad stood as well. "Nam, Irin—I hope you stick to your words. One complaint, and before these two, you will be out."
With that final warning, their fathers strode out of the room, leaving all four of them behind.
A heavy silence settled once more.
Nam and Irin exchanged nervous glances.
And Freen and Becky?
Still stubbornly avoiding each other’s gaze.
Time passed, and they buried themselves in work—overwhelmed, exhausted—but still, not a single word was exchanged. Not a single glance.
Their silence wasn’t just affecting them anymore.
It was making things impossible for Nam and Irin, who had to process every strategy, every campaign update, and relay it to their respective teams. It was exhausting. Inefficient. And finally, when Nam couldn't take it anymore, she snapped.
"If you two aren’t going to talk, then what was the point of this morning’s meeting?! Why did we even vouch for you?!" Her voice trembled with frustration. "This company—these people—the ones breaking their backs to make things work? They matter more than your damn pride!"
Freen and Becky sat frozen as Nam’s voice rang through the room.
"They have families waiting for them at home. Kids hoping their parents can come home early. And yet here they are, sacrificing their time because of you two—because your egos are too big to even compromise for a second!"
Nam’s voice cracked on the last word before she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
A thick silence lingered in her absence.
Irin sighed deeply, rubbing her temples. "She’s right."
She turned to Freen and Becky, her voice softer but no less firm. "People who have nothing to do with this mess are suffering because of it. And none of this is their fault to begin with." She shook her head. "I get it. I really do. You both have your reasons. But for God’s sake—think about someone other than yourselves for once."
With that, Irin, too, walked out—leaving the two of them alone at last.
For the first time in days, Freen and Becky sat in silence.
No work. No emails. No distractions.
And nothing left to hide behind.
Silence lingered between them, stretching longer than either of them was comfortable with. For the first time, they both truly realized what they had been doing—not just to themselves, but to everyone around them.
Someone had to break the silence.
“…Sorry for interfering in your personal life,” Freen muttered, eyes fixed on the pen twirling between her fingers.
Becky didn’t look up either, fiddling with the buttons on her sleeve. “I’m sorry for trying to ruin your image in front of everyone.”
Another pause. The air between them felt thick.
Then—
“Ugh, this is so awkward,” Freen scoffed, shaking her head.
“I know, right? I just can’t.” Becky groaned dramatically before flashing a smirk. “Let’s just get back to ruining each other’s lives, shall we?”
Freen finally looked at her, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Yeah. But first, let’s clean up this mess.”
Becky nodded, her confidence returning. “Let’s give them results so good, they won’t even fathom how we did it.”
Freen grinned. “Let’s do this then, girlfriend.”
The word barely left her lips before Becky’s eyes widened in mock horror. “Say that again, and I swear—” She grabbed the nearest file and flung it at Freen.
Freen dodged, laughing. “Oh, aren’t you the one who enjoys teasing me to death with it?”
“I did have my fun, but you and me? That’s my limit,” Becky shot back, narrowing her eyes.
The tension that had suffocated them for days melted away as the familiar energy between them returned. The air buzzed again—not with resentment, but with them.
Freen leaned back, smirking. “Why, though? I mean, look at you. Look at me. We’re something.”
Becky shot up from her chair. “Oh, that’s it—”
Freen was already scrambling out of reach, laughing, but Becky was faster. She caught her, wrapping her hands around Freen’s neck in mock strangulation, shaking her playfully. “Take it back, right now!”
It was in that moment—Becky pinning Freen against the desk, their faces inches apart—that the office door swung open.
Nam and Irin walked in.
Files slipped from Irin’s hands.
Nam blinked, mouth slightly open.
The way Becky was practically on top of Freen, the flushed faces, the ragged breaths—it looked like something else.
Freen and Becky froze, processing it at the same time.
“NO, NO, THIS IS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!” Becky blurted out, scrambling backward.
“She was trying to kill me, alright?” Freen added, fixing her disheveled blazer.
Nam squinted at them. “Are you two… fooling us all?”
“NO!” they both shouted in sync.
Irin crossed her arms, arching a brow. “You two made a truce… while strangling each other?”
Freen cleared her throat. “Look, enough. Think whatever you want, but let’s get back to work.” She turned back to her seat.
Nam and Irin exchanged a look, sighing in relief.
Finally,
Becky huffed before settling into her chair as well.
The chaos was over.
And now?
Now, they were just getting started.