"A GL movie?" Becky was shocked by what her handler had just told her.
Rebecca Patricia Armstrong was an actress and singer in Thailand, though she wasn't very active in showbiz anymore. Her focus had shifted to her studies in England, where she and her family lived—her father's home country.
"That's exactly why I personally came here—to talk to you and your parents and ask for their permission regarding this project," Mr. Saint explained.
Her entire family sat frozen, still trying to process the offer.
"Our daughter is old enough to decide for herself. If it doesn't harm her, we support her completely," her father said firmly. Her mother simply nodded in agreement, resting her head gently on her husband's shoulder. Their love was subtle but solid—a kind of quiet devotion that Becky had always admired.
She looked at them, hands held tightly, hearts still in sync despite cultural differences and language barriers. I want a love like that, Becky thought. Something that strong and real.
"Becky?" Mr. Saint's voice cut through her thoughts.
"Yes?" she blinked, realizing she had zoned out.
"If that's the case, then we have no problem. Here's the script—read and memorize it. I'll arrange for a workshop with Freen, so you two can develop chemistry and feel more comfortable on set."
Becky frowned. "Wait, I didn't even say yes ye—wait. What did you just say? Freen Sarocha?"
"Yes, Freen Sarocha is your co-lead. She plays your girlfriend in the film."
Her eyes widened. Is he kidding?
"I'm sorry, but I can't accept this. You'll need to find someone else," she said firmly. I can't do this.
"That's a shame. The author of the novel specifically requested you and Freen. Without you two, there's no movie."
"Why?" she asked, confused.
"Because the novel is based on the two of you. It's already been adapted into a manhua, and the fanbase is exploding. The story is trending worldwide."
Worldwide? Becky felt herself getting pulled in despite herself. Why would someone write about us? What's so special about our story?
"I didn't know there was a story like that, especially one about two women, that got so big here in Thailand…" she said truthfully.
"Oh, it's not just Thailand. It's international. Your pairing with Freen has a cult following, thanks to the fanfics. You're lucky. Most actresses dream of a fan base like this."
She couldn't speak. Her family remained quiet too, clearly overwhelmed.
Did people really see something between us? But no one knows my preference…
Am I being outed through this movie? And Freen of all people…
She panicked. I'm not ready.
"This movie is going to be huge. People campaigned for it. And because both of you are under our agency, and because of the pressure, we had to consider it," Mr. Saint added.
"But… doesn't Freen already have a series? Isn't she still with her long- time love loveteam, Blew Worrapon Jintakoson?" Becky's brother interjected, concern in his voice. "Wouldn't this clash with their fanbase and stir controversy?"
A bitter smile tugged at Becky's lips, though she quickly masked it.
She had learned to hide disappointment well—especially the kind that reminded her of past rejection.
I was young and stupid. Never again, she told herself.
Her brother had always been protective—there were just the two of them. He called her the "princess of the family," and he meant it.
"You didn't know?" Mr. Saint looked surprised.
"Didn't know what?" Becky asked.
"Freen didn't tell you? I thought you were close…"
"We don't really… talk that much anymore," she admitted, scratching the back of her neck. You really don't know anything about us, she thought.
They had once been inseparable. But time had pulled them apart. While she focused on law school, Freen was building a career—and probably forgot Becky even existed.
"That's too bad," Mr. Saint said. "You two were like soulmates. What happened?"
"We grew up… separately."
"What about Freen?" she asked, remembering he had something more to say.
Mr. Saint crossed his legs, settling into the couch.
"Freen and Blew are no longer together. Their series was canceled after Blew's scandal with another girl."
"What?" Her family gasped.
"He cheated," Mr. Saint said flatly. "Freen caught them—in bed—at Blew's condo."
Becky looked down, biting back a bitter smile. Her expression remained composed.
When her family turned to her with subtle accusation in their eyes, she just gave them a neutral look.
Not my fault she chose him over our friendship.
"I'm not going to baby her," Becky said under her breath. She's old enough.
"You could at least ask if she's okay," her mother said, placing a gentle hand over Becky's.
Becky looked down at the hand, then up at her mother's eyes—full of worry. Her own eyes were pools of unspoken emotion.
"So?" Mr. Saint finally said, trying to steer the conversation back. "Will you accept the offer or bury your fans' hopes?"
"Isn't this just damage control?" Becky challenged. "This movie's purpose is to cover up the scandal. Right?"
Mr. Saint's eyes widened.
"Cat got your tongue?" Becky smirked.
Blew's grandfather was a powerful man in showbiz—he wouldn't let his grandson's reputation rot. So instead, they're letting Freen take the fall… using me as bait.
How dare they?
The film might succeed—or fail miserably. If poorly done, people would mock it. Worse, they'd reduce it to just the steamy parts. This wasn't just a role—it was a gamble.
And despite everything, Becky wouldn't let them destroy Freen—not like this.
Even after what Freen had done.
Becky stood, and so did Mr. Saint. She led him to the door.
He looked at her, puzzled, as she opened it.
Just before stepping out, he said, "She already accepted. She said, you might agree if I told you."
Of course she did, Becky thought, eyes shut in frustration.
She pinched the bridge of her nose, then looked up—only to find Mr. Saint smirking at her like he already knew her answer.