Chapter 19
Days passed, and the weight of the first semester’s assignments and looming exams became the next mountain everyone was scrambling to climb.
Since that one fateful night—the night they unknowingly fit into each other’s warmth—Freen had thrown herself into work with relentless determination. She made sure to be extra busy, stretching every task longer than necessary, crafting as much distance as possible. Less time for interaction. Less time to linger. Less time to let her thoughts betray her.
And yet—more time to steal glances at Becky as she slept. Sometimes for a few fleeting moments. Sometimes for entire nights.
Oh, how impossibly hard it was not to fall in love with her little sissss.
Meanwhile, after the roaring success of the fresher’s event, Becky’s schedule had become just as packed. Brand promotions, collaboration deals—opportunities that laid the foundation for her career kept pouring in. She was busy, constantly on the move.
But never too busy.
Never busy enough to not wait for her Phi to return each night.
No matter how late it got, Becky always stayed up, waiting in their room, their little sanctuary. Their silent ritual remained unbroken—sharing coffee and milk tea in the dim glow of the bedside lamp, exchanging unspoken words in the quiet sips between them.
And though some nights all they did was fall into exhausted sleep, it was enough.
Enough to know they had each other’s backs. Enough to assure them that no matter how hectic their lives became, this—this fragile, unspoken bond—was steady. It was real. It was theirs.
One fateful day, a renowned music producer approached the university, eager to offer an album project to Jeff and Becky. The meeting was arranged with all the key faculty members present—including Freen, Jeff, and, of course, Becky.
"I haven't slept well since I saw you two perform on stage," P’Fuse, the well-known and highly respected music director, confessed with a warm smile. "I can’t just sit back and let this opportunity slip by. I need you both to grace my production as well."
Becky and Jeff exchanged proud smiles, feeling the weight of the moment.
"And I would love to have you two on board for this grand project. Your talent is undeniable—it shines beyond this world. So please, don’t say no, or I swear I would never be able to sleep again," P’Fuse added playfully, breaking the formality and setting a comfortable tone.
Freen, seated at a distance but keeping a watchful eye, felt an overwhelming sense of pride. Every now and then, she and Becky caught each other’s gaze, their silent exchanges filled with unspoken emotions.
"It would be our pleasure, sir," Jeff responded respectfully. "For me, it’ll be another great experience, but for Becky, this will be her official debut in the industry. That makes it even more special, right?" He turned to Becky for confirmation.
"Absolutely," Becky nodded, her voice carrying a natural charm. "It would be an honor to work with you, sir. You’ve always been on my list of dream collaborators. Your creations—they’re art. Pure, heavenly art."
"Oh, please, don’t put me on cloud nine now," P’Fuse chuckled, and just like that, the meeting took on a homely, familiar warmth.
Freen, still at the far end of the table, silently reassured herself that Becky was in safe hands. Everything seemed to be going perfectly fine. She let out a quiet breath of relief—until P’Fuse brought up something unexpected.
"There’s one thing I’d like your thoughts on," he said, his tone shifting slightly.
Freen’s brows furrowed.
"You see, a lot of productions these days are heavily investing in shipping on-screen couples for the sake of popularity. It’s a strategy that guarantees massive success. What are your views on that?"
Freen’s chest tightened.
Before she could react, Jeff spoke first.
"Sir, Becky and I put our hearts into our craft. We work hard to refine our skills, to make sure our art speaks for itself," Jeff said, his voice steady with conviction. "When an artist creates something, it should be pure and transparent. Real talent doesn’t need to deceive people or sell them a delusion just for fame or money. Art is devotion to me. I don’t do it for the sake of profit. Becky, what about you?"
Freen wanted to give Jeff a standing ovation right there. A man of integrity and values—she admired that.
Becky, without hesitation, added, "I completely agree with P’Jeff. I’ve been singing since I was a child, and I’ll keep singing until the day I die. But I would never do it to deceive people. When I sing, I want my audience to feel—their own stories, their struggles, their victories. It’s about them, not about me. So no, I don’t believe in fake shipping just for the show and success, anything that comes with fakeness is indeed fake and I won't suggest anyone should do it."
As she finished, Becky instinctively searched for Freen’s eyes. A silent plea for reassurance id she said right or not.
Freen blinked slowly, her gaze soft but weighted with the message You said it perfectly.
P’Fuse let out a satisfied chuckle. "That’s exactly the mindset I uphold in my productions. I create art, and I believe in keeping it raw and genuine. I’m so happy to hear that you two share the same values. It’s rare to find young artists who won’t compromise for quick fame and success. I’m already proud of you."
Jeff and Becky nodded, grateful.
"So, shall we seal the deal then?" P’Fuse finally asked, addressing the key decision-makers in the room.
Freen, who had been quietly observing, finally spoke up. "As long as you ensure the safety and security of these two talented stars, we have no objections." as if it’s the only thing that matters for her, the safety of Becky at all cost.
P’Fuse gave a reassuring nod. "Absolutely. They’re my kids now. I’ll not only protect them but help them grow as long as they’re under my wing."
And just like that, Jeff and Becky signed onto the project.
Becky could hardly believe it.
"Is this real? Is it all a dream?" she whispered, eyes wide in disbelief.
The moment all the people stepped out of the meeting cabin, she practically launched herself at Freen, wrapping her arms around her in an excited hug.
"P’Freen! P’Freen! P’Freen! I made it, I made it, I made it" Becky squealed, bouncing even within the hug.
Freen, caught off guard, could only nod, smiling at Becky’s overflowing excitement. She was proud—so incredibly proud.
"Okay, okay," Freen finally pushed Becky a little away, maintaining her usual composed demeanor. "This is just the beginning, alright? And don’t be a clingy cat out here—I have a reputation to uphold."
But before she walked away, she reached out, ruffled Becky’s hair, and tapped her head gently.
"Keng makk, little one."
And with that, she strode off, leaving Becky standing there—grinning, beaming, and happier than she’d ever been.
The music production was set to begin soon, and everyone was incredibly proud of Becky—especially her parents. They celebrated her achievement but also gently reminded her not to neglect her studies. "Your career is important, but so is your education," they advised. "Promise us you’ll find a balance." Becky nodded, understanding their concern. She was determined to manage both.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Freen had been skillfully dodging Grandma’s dinner invitation for weeks, citing the heavy workload she and Becky had been dealing with. But no excuse could hold off Grandma forever. This time, she was firm.
"This weekend. No more delays."
Realizing there was no escaping it, Freen finally relented and informed Becky.
"We have to go this weekend," she said with a sigh. "Otherwise, Grandma will show up at our dorm and turn it into a full-blown drama scene."
Becky’s eyes lit up. Unlike Freen, she wanted this.
Getting closer to Freen’s family? That was a victory which felt far greater than any project or career milestone at the moment.
Finally, the weekend arrived, and Freen drove Becky to her grandmother’s mansion. As they pulled up to the grand entrance of Sarocha’s Mansion, Becky’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief. The sprawling estate before her was nothing short of breathtaking. Her body almost felt like it was levitating in awe as she took in the towering structure, the elegant gardens, and the sheer luxury of it all.
"You’re rich, my Ice Queen."
Her voice carried both admiration and mischief, her eyes still glued to the scenery outside.
Freen, who had been about to step out of the car, froze mid-motion. Her head slowly turned towards Becky, her brow arched in a sharp question.
"Ice Queen?" she repeated, her voice carrying a silent warning.
Becky snapped back to reality, realizing her slip.
"Uh—uhh, I mean… that’s what the college kids call you. You already knew that, right?" She grinned nervously, hoping to brush it off.
Freen rolled her eyes, exhaling sharply before parking the car in its designated spot.
As they stepped through the grand entrance hall, an affectionate voice rang out.
"There, there, my beautiful babies!"
Becky barely had time to react before Grandma was upon them, walking with open arms to greet them. Becky quickly bowed out of respect, but before she could straighten up, Grandma pulled her into a warm embrace.
"It’s alright, no need for all that," she chuckled, patting Becky’s back. "I told you, you can call me Grandma."
Becky nodded with a bright smile, warmth flooding her chest. Meanwhile, Freen scoffed and breezed past them, heading straight inside.
"Hey! Where are your manners?" Grandma turned to her, feigning offense. "No hug for your poor grandmother?"
Freen barely looked over her shoulder as she tossed out, "Now that you have a new grandchild, spare me the cheesiness." Her voice was cold, but the teasing glint in her eyes gave her away.
"Even though your grandma gets a little carried away with her new princess, you will always be my favorite child."
The unexpected voice came from behind them. Freen expected it, but Becky turned in confusion, her eyes landing on a familiar figure.
"Miss Orantara?" Becky blinked, surprised to see their university dorm dean here. Before she could process it further, Orantara wrapped Freen in a tight embrace before approaching Becky with a warm smile.
"Becky, this is—" Grandma began, but then she paused dramatically before finishing with a grin, "—the love of my life."
"HUUHH—!"
Freen choked on her water so violently that Becky thought she might need CPR. Freen turned to look at her grandmother in utter disbelief.
"Did she just—how could she be so straight despite being the gayest of all?"
Grandma had a way of dropping bombshells as casually as commenting on the weather.
"Easy there," Grandma said with mock concern, smirking at Freen’s near-death experience.
Meanwhile, Becky’s mind was still buffering.
Another secret?!
She looked at Miss Orantara, then back at Grandma, before exhaling in dramatic exasperation.
"Grandma, is there anything else you’d like to reveal? Just say it all at once—my heart can only take so much." Becky placed a hand over her chest, feigning distress, though her eyes twinkled with excitement. She admired love in all forms, and if anything, grandma was probably the proudest ally in the entire room and that made Becky even more happy at the moment.
Grandma laughed heartily, clearly enjoying Becky’s reaction.
"Come, let’s sit," she finally said, gesturing towards the plush couches.
Freen sat on the opposite side, facing Becky, while Grandma and Orantara settled beside each other—obviously inseparable.
As they got comfortable, Grandma suddenly looked at Becky with a deep, thoughtful gaze.
"I don’t know what it is about you, Becky," she mused, "but when I look at you, I can see right through you. And I don’t find even the slightest tint of darkness there. It makes me want to be honest with you."
Freen rolled her eyes, already bracing herself for whatever dramatic speech was coming next. She reached for her coffee, praying the caffeine would sustain her through the inevitable theatrics.
Becky, on the other hand, felt her heart swell at the words. "That’s too sweet of you, Grandma. But I think beauty is in the eyes of the beholder," she said, her voice warm with sincerity. "I’m just really happy I get to meet you." Becky beamed, her warmth radiating like sunlight, effortlessly filling the room with her bright and cheerful energy.
Grandma smiled, but then her mischievous streak returned.
"Oh, but if it were up to this Ice Queen over here, we never would have met," she quipped, sending a pointed look at Freen.
Freen, mid-sip of her coffee, nearly spat it out.
"Hey! What is this, some kind of group chat? What’s with everyone calling me ‘Ice Queen’ today?!"
The room erupted into laughter. Poor Freen.
The night went on with everyone ganging up on Freen, laughter echoing through the grand halls of the mansion—everyone except the so-called Ice Queen, who was too skilled at maintaining her grumpy and aloof facade.
After dinner, Grandma clapped her hands together. "Alright, your room is ready," she announced cheerfully.
Freen frowned in confusion. "Wait, what? We’re staying the night? I was going to drop Becky off at her parents’ place."
"Oh no, no, no," Grandma waved off her protest. "It’s too late to be driving around after such a hearty meal. I’ll handle Becky’s parents, but neither of you is stepping out tonight. Now, off to your room!" she commanded, adding a dramatic queen-like gesture for flair.
Freen groaned, turning to Becky. "Say something!"
Becky merely shrugged, suppressing a smile. "Well… if Grandma wants it, then…"
Freen rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief before stomping toward the grand staircase. Halfway up, she suddenly stopped and turned back. "Wait… you said rooms, right?" she asked cautiously.
Grandma’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Nope. Just your room," she said, winking at Becky. "All the other rooms are under renovation. Construction work everywhere."
"You’ve got to be kidding me," Freen muttered, rubbing her temples before stomping off again. Grandma chuckled and gently guided Becky toward the stairs. "Come along, dear. Sleep well."
Inside Freen’s Room
Freen busied herself setting up a makeshift bed on the couch, tossing a pillow and blanket onto it when Becky stepped in.
"I’ll take the couch. You take the bed," Freen ordered without looking up.
Becky, ever the strategist, gasped dramatically. "Oh no, no, no! A mansion like this definitely has ghosts, and there is absolutely no way I’m sleeping alone in that giant master bed!" She gestured toward the massive, king-sized bed at the center of the room.
"Not happening," Freen muttered, flopping onto the couch.
"P’Freen," Becky whined, nudging Freen’s leg with her foot. "The bed is huge. It’s literally the size of our entire dorm room. You’ll have plenty of space. Please, na kha?"
Silence.
"Pleaaaase naaaa khaaaa? I’m scared!" Becky insisted, her voice dripping with childlike pleading.
With a defeated sigh, Freen huffed, grabbed her pillows and blanket, and moved to the farthest side of the bed. She meticulously stacked a wall of pillows between them.
"Don’t cross this," she warned. "You sleep like a crab. All over the place."
"Hey! I don’t sleep like a crab," Becky protested. "More like a monkey. But it’s alright if you don’t like monkeys." And with that, she happily flopped onto her side of the bed.
A peaceful silence settled over the room, the dim glow of the moon casting soft shadows.
Then—
"P’Freeeeeen…"
Freen ignored her.
"P’Fiiiiiiiiiiim…"
Still no response. Freen knew Becky was up to something.
"P’FREEN!" Becky suddenly yelled, bolting upright.
Freen flinched. "What now?" she groaned, rubbing her face.
"I’m scared," Becky pouted, her eyes big and innocent.
“Ofcourse, you are scared of anything but me” Freen thought to herself and then said,
"Of what?" Freen asked impatiently.
Becky dramatically glanced around. "These pillows are all white, and for a second, I thought a ghost was creeping up behind me to kill me!" she gasped, clutching her chest.
Freen exhaled a deep sigh, realizing there was no winning this battle. Without a word, she grabbed the pillows and tossed them off the bed.
"Happy now?" she grumbled.
Becky grinned ear to ear, nodding. "Very."
With that, she snuggled under the covers, finally drifting off to sleep—while Freen just lay there, wondering how she got herself into this mess.
A Midnight Disruption
Deep into the night, as both were lost in slumber—
THUD!!!
A loud noise jolted them awake.
"P’Freen! What was that?" Becky whispered, clinging onto Freen like a scared kitten.
Freen groaned, rubbing her eyes before getting out of bed. "Stay here," she muttered, but Becky, of course, ignored that and followed closely, practically glued to Freen’s back.
A low, eerie creaking noise echoed through the hallway, leading them toward Grandma’s room. Becky’s face filled with worry. What if Grandma fell or something? Without wasting a second, she rushed forward, knocking urgently on the door.
"Grandma! Are you alright?" she called out in concern.
Freen, standing beside her with arms crossed, let out a sigh, watching Becky panic as if she were the real grandchild here.
"Yessss, we’re alright! No worries! Go back to sleep!" Grandma’s voice rang out from inside.
Freen blinked. Realization struck her like lightning. She rolled her eyes, shook her head, and grabbed Becky’s wrist, pulling her away. "Let’s go."
"No, wait—what if she did fall?" Becky insisted, still rooted in place.
"BECKY. LET’S. GO." Freen widened her eyes meaningfully, trying to convey something without actually saying it out loud.
But for the first time, Becky couldn’t figure it out. She frowned, confused. "Freen, I know you like to keep your distance and all, but Grandma is elderly. She could actually be in trouble. Can’t you worry about her even a little?" she huffed breathlessly.
Freen exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through her hair. Her patience was wearing thin.
And then—without another word—she pulled Becky close, lifted her into her arms, and stomped back toward their room.
Becky let out a surprised gasp but quickly shut her mouth. Despite her confusion, she secretly enjoyed being carried by Freen, so she just gave Freen a questioning look all the way back.
Back in the Room
As soon as they entered, Freen set Becky down, shut the door, pressed both hands to her ears, and practically yelled—
"THEY. ARE. MAKING. LOVE. KID. GROW. UP."
Becky froze. Her eyes widened as the realization dawned. Within seconds, her hands flew up to cover her face.
"Oh my God," she mumbled, utterly mortified.
Her protests downstairs suddenly felt so stupid.
Freen shook her head, amused at Becky’s innocence. Becky peeked through her fingers, still blushing furiously. "Your whole family is weird," she muttered before scurrying back to bed, her mind filled with images she wished she could erase.
Freen chuckled, shaking her head before hopping into her side of the bed.
Becky lay there, lost in thought. Her mind drifted far beyond the present, weaving an imaginary world of what-ifs.
What would it be like to grow old with Freen?
Would they be like Grandma and Miss Oranatra? That sweet? That effortless?
She knew she was stepping into dangerous territory, thinking such thoughts—thoughts that could feel like a crime. But she whispered her mantra to herself:
"If it’s a dream… at least in my dream, I can have it my way."
A small, content smile spread across her lips as she slowly drifted off to sleep.
On the other side of the bed, Freen lay in utter disbelief.
Her grandmother made love seem so simple. So easy. So… nothing to fear.
The thought lingered, unsettling yet intriguing.
She turned her head slightly, her gaze falling on Becky, who was now fast asleep beside her, curled up like a child lost in a dream. The faint glow of the moon cast soft shadows on her face, highlighting the serene expression she wore.
Unconsciously, she slipped into her nightly ritual—watching her Nong until sleep came for her. It had become a habit she never admitted to, one she justified as keeping an eye on Becky to make sure she didn't roll off the bed. But deep down, she knew it was something else entirely.
As she listened to Becky’s slow, even breaths, she felt an unfamiliar warmth settle in her chest. It was comforting. It was terrifying.
And just before sleep pulled her under, she found herself thinking—
Maybe love isn’t supposed to be so complicated after all.