Chapter 1
Chapter 1
Freen's POV
Welcome to the chaos that is my brain, folks. Buckle up—it’s going to be a bumpy ride. Right now, I’m sitting outside Mr. Alex’s office, the Dean of my faculty, Creative Technologies. Why? I have no clue. Maybe he wants to congratulate me on being his favorite genius again, or maybe I’m in trouble. Either way, this is eating into my precious time. I could be working on my project right now—well, my very interesting project. Let's just call it a... "touch yourself or die a virgin," for now.
By the way, I’m Freen Sarocha, 22 years old, a top AI student, and an aspiring top in my non-existent wife’s life. Yep, I’m winning in academics and still single. Life’s balanced, isn’t it?
Just as I’m spiraling in my thoughts, Miss Elle steps out of the office. “Come in, darling. He’s ready for you now,” she says with a kind smile. Miss Elle’s in her late 50s, but she works harder than half the students here. I nod, thank her, and head inside.
“There’s my star!” Mr. Alex booms as soon as I walk in. He always greets me like this, probably because I’ve won him a bunch of medals and awards. “Good morning, sir,” I reply politely.
“Good morning, sunshine! How’s my best student today?”
After a little back-and-forth, he finally gets to the point. “Freen, do you know Rebecca Patricia Armstrong?”
Rebecca. Of course, I know her. Who doesn’t? She’s one of the most famous actresses right now. Even I—someone who doesn’t watch movies much—know her because my best friend dragged me to see her latest film. I won’t lie; she’s cute... and hot. But no, I didn’t touch myself while watching. Not in public, at least.
“Well,” he continues, “her agency approached us to develop a software, and naturally, I thought of sending my best coder—you.”
“What kind of software are they looking for?” I ask, curious.
“They’d like to discuss that with you in person. There’s a meeting scheduled tomorrow. You can pick your own team for the project. I trust you’ll choose the best.”
After wrapping up, I leave the office, already forming a plan in my head. My team is a no-brainer: Nam, my best friend and the top data scientist in her class; Noey, an amazing business analyst; and Yuki, Noey’s girlfriend and a brilliant web developer.
I find them hanging out at the campus coffee shop, as usual.
“Here comes my sexy best friend!” Nam shouts, hugging me dramatically and planting a loud kiss on my cheek.
“Geez, Nam, control yourself,” I say, swatting her away.
I fill them in about the project, and Noey immediately loses her mind. “WAIT. REBECCA PATRICIA ARMSTRONG? ARE YOU SERIOUS, FRENNIE?” she screams, nearly tipping over her chair.
“Thanks for deafening me,” I mutter. “Yes, it’s Rebecca, but calm down. She’s just a client.”
Noey shakes her head like I’ve said the dumbest thing ever. “Just a client? Freen, she’s Rebecca. Have you even seen her? She’s gorgeous!”
Before I can respond, Yuki smacks Noey lightly on the arm. “Stop drooling. You’re taken.”
“Hot or not,” I interrupt, “we’re meeting her tomorrow. Don’t be late—I’ll send you the address.”
That night, I finally get some time to myself. After dinner, I decide to do a little research on Rebecca. Normally, I’d study the company or business we’re working with, but this time, it’s an actress, so I head straight to her Instagram.
Big mistake.
Damn.
Okay, I get the hype now. She’s not just pretty—she’s stunning. My brain goes on a mini meltdown as I scroll through her pictures. I might have stared for longer than necessary, but it’s for research, okay? Totally professional.
To "prepare" for tomorrow, I even put on one of her movies. Not because I’m interested or anything. Just to understand her better.
Finally, I text the group about the meeting details.
Me: Building No. 435 near Copi Cafe, next to IDF Block 1.
Me: That’s the address, guys. If anyone’s late, I don’t know them.
Noey: Never getting late for Becky!
Yuki: @Noey, Becky who?
Nam: Haha, Freen, this is your moment. Time to get laid.
Me: She’s a client. We’re working together, that’s it!
Nam: Or maybe you’ll work under her ;)
I groan and toss my phone aside. One of these days, I’m blocking Nam. Work under her? Please. Everyone knows I’m a top. A virgin top, but still.
And with that, I call it a night, ready—or not—for tomorrow.