Drop The Car Keys....F the?!
Christmas had finally wrapped up, leaving behind the warmth of twinkling lights, the scent of cinnamon in the air, and the lingering echoes of laughter from Becky's family. As they stepped out into the chilly night, snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, dusting the car like powdered sugar.
Freen jingled the car keys in her hand, stretching her arms before making her way to the driver’s side out of habit. But before she could reach the door, Becky slipped past her with a triumphant smirk, quickly towards the driver’s seat.
Freen stopped in her tracks, raising a brow. “And what exactly do you think you’re doing, Miss Armstrong?”
Becky grinned, gripping the steering wheel dramatically. “Driving us home, obviously.”
Freen let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head. “Nope. Not happening.”
“Why not? I have a license, you know.” Becky tilted her chin up, pretending to be offended.
“Yeah, and I also know you get distracted easily,” Freen teased, tapping the window. “Remember last time? We almost ended up in someone’s yard because you were too busy fixing your playlist.”
“That was one time,” Becky huffed. “And, in my defense, it was a really good song.”
Freen squinted at her, lips twitching. “Mhm. And what about the time you nearly missed the exit because you were—”
“Oh my God, shut up.” Becky groaned, rolling her eyes. “Just admit it, you don’t want to let me drive because you’re a control freak.”
Freen pressed her lips together, feigning deep thought. “That… might be true.”
Becky quickly reached for the car door, a playful grin on her lips she pushed freen little aside. "I’m driving."
Freen raised an eyebrow, already shaking her head. "No way."
"Why not?" Becky challenged, crossing her arms. "I haven’t driven in forever."
"Exactly. My life is too precious," Freen teased, unlocking the car with a beep.
Becky pouted, stepping in close with her puppy pleading eyes. "I’m not that bad. Besides, you always drive. Let me?"
Freen sighed dramatically but couldn’t help the smile creeping onto her lips. With an exaggerated eye roll, she tossed Becky the car keys. Intentionally—or maybe not—the keychain slipped from Becky’s grasp, clinking onto the ground between them. (f–k the patriarchy….keychain on the ground)
Becky didn’t even look down. Instead, she caught Freen’s hand, tugged her forward, and pressed a lingering kiss against her lips. "That’s for letting me win."
Freen let out a breathless chuckle as Becky pulled away, eyes twinkling. "You play dirty."
Becky winked, bending to grab the keys before hopping into the driver’s seat. "Buckle up, baby."
With a shake of her head, Freen settled into the passenger seat, still smiling. The car rumbled to life, and soon, they were on the road, the soft hum of music filling the quiet spaces between their conversations.
"You actually drive pretty well," Freen admitted after a while, tilting her head toward Becky. "I might just let you drive more often."
"Oh, the honor," Becky gasped dramatically. "Freen Chankimha……. finally trusting me with our lives."
Freen laughed, but as she looked out at the passing streetlights, Becky’s mind drifted. The warmth of their banter still clung to her, but her thoughts kept circling back to the moment at Christmas dinner—the way her dad had casually asked about their future, and the way Freen had dodged the question.
Becky had always been confident in their love. Four years together, and she had never once doubted how deeply Freen cared for her. But that moment… that unreadable look on Freen’s face. It was there and gone in an instant, but it stuck with Becky like an itch she couldn’t quite reach.
She tightened her grip on the wheel, lips pressing together.
Maybe she was just overthinking.
But still.
Becky had always been the bold one in love. The one who fell first, the one who never held back. She loved loudly, unapologetically, and she never questioned that Freen was the one for her. But there were moments—fleeting ones, like shadows at dusk—where she wondered if she was enough.
Not in the way of love. She knew Freen loved her. But was she mature enough? Did she fit into Freen’s world the way Freen fit into hers? Freen has said to her that the age difference doesn’t matter but what if it does?
Becky had seen Freen around her industry friends, the ones her age. They had a way of talking, of joking, that Becky sometimes struggled to keep up with. Freen was always the responsible one, the one who took care of things, of Becky. A part of her wondered if she was just someone Freen felt responsible for rather than someone she saw as an equal.
She bit the inside of her cheek. Was she thinking too much? Probably. But the thought didn’t fade, not even as Freen reached over and intertwined their fingers, her thumb lazily running over Becky’s knuckles.
“Hey,” Freen’s voice was soft, cutting through the quiet. “You okay Bec?”
Becky blinked, realizing she had been staring too long at the empty road ahead. She forced a small smile, giving Freen’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, just thinking.”
Freen tilted her head, studying her in that way she always did when she knew Becky wasn’t saying everything. “Deep thoughts while driving? That’s dangerous.”
Becky let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. “Just… you know. The future and stuff.”
Her voice was light, casual—like she wasn’t still stuck in last night’s conversation at the dinner table, replaying the moment her father had asked them about their future more than twice. Like she wasn’t still thinking about the way Freen had dodged the question with a laugh and a joke, like it was nothing.
Freen hummed, her gaze lingering on Becky’s face for a moment too long. Becky almost thought—almost hoped—she would say something real. Something that would quiet the ache in her chest.
But then Freen stretched, leaning back against the seat with a lazy grin. “Speaking of the future,” she mused, her tone light and teasing, “I think it’s time to finally sign a project here, maybe a movie or something. ”
Becky’s stomach twisted.
That wasn’t what she meant.
Not even close.
She swallowed, forcing herself to play along. “Oh? So, you’re just gonna abandon thaiwood?” she asked, referring to Freen’s successful career waiting for her return in Thailand.
Freen chuckled. “Hey, Thailand has been good to me, good to us, that’s our home, but campaign stuff is getting boring here. I mean, doing the same thing again & again with different brands, it’s getting exhausting."
Becky frowned, her voice a little sharper this time. “Aren’t you already way too busy with campaigns that we hardly have time for us?”
“That’s exactly why,” Freen said, turning her head, her voice gentler now. “All these campaigns and stuff... maybe if I do a project—just one proper thing—I’ll actually have enough time for us. And hey, you’re equally busy with your internship. You go early, come late... same thing.” She bumped Becky’s shoulder softly. “So it’s not just me, if you ever overthink about that, Becbec.”
Freen leaned in closer, resting her head on Becky’s shoulder. Her hand found Becky’s again and gave it a comforting squeeze. “But we’ll always figure it out, na bb.”
Becky breathed in slowly, then exhaled, letting her cheek rest against the top of Freen’s head. “Hmmm...” she murmured along. “We’ll figure out.”
A pause. Then Becky pulled back slightly, smirking. “But if you become a big star here, what will happen to our ship back in Thailand, huh?”
Freen laughed, her voice soft with affection. “Thailand is my home, Becbec. I’m already homesick. I’ll just do a small project here... just so I can spend a year with you.”
“Aww, babe...” Becky’s voice melted into warmth. “You don’t have to. You can go home back in Thailand, you don’t have to do all this for me.”
“And do what without you? Dieee?” Freen teased dramatically.
Becky chuckled, her grip tightening around Freen’s hand. “One year will be quick,” she said softly, eyes back on the road. “Just have me by your side, na kha.”
“Always,” Freen whispered, not missing a beat.
Becky nodded, eyes still on the road, but her mind was far away. It wasn’t about freen’s next move at all. It was about how easily Freen had changed the subject. About how she always did when it came to them—their future.
Becky knew Freen loved her. There had never been a doubt in her mind. But sometimes… sometimes she wondered if they were standing on the same ground, looking toward the same horizon.
And maybe that was why, despite Freen’s hand still holding hers, despite the warmth of her presence so close—
There was a small, quiet ache pressing against Becky’s ribs.
She took a breath, let it go.
For now, she wouldn’t press.
For now, she just wanted to hold onto this moment—Freen’s touch, the night road stretching ahead, and the quiet knowledge that even when her mind wandered into doubt, Freen was still right here.
🎶 And you were tossing me the car keys
Fuck The Patriarchy keychain on the ground
We were always skippin' town
And I was thinkin' on the drive down: Any time now
He's gonna say it's love
You never called it what it was…..🎶