Freen's POV
"Okay, get ready, everyone!"
"Ready the fireflies on release." I heard them on my earpiece, waiting for Becky to put the lamp in the window as the script instructed.
Supposedly, someone else was supposed to release the fireflies. They had a specific technique for angles to make them look magical. But the moment Becky put the lamp up, images flashed through my brain. God, she's beautiful in her 18th-century nightgown.
"Ready?" Director Wuttapong signaled the staff, but I immediately grabbed the jar of fireflies and released them. This was exactly how I'd imagined it.
The fireflies flew. I looked at Becky, and I saw her eyes light up with wonder and awe. Their soft glow illuminated her face, creating a breathtaking scene. Time seemed to stand still, and in that moment, I knew I had made the right decision.
If I could live that moment again, I would still do the same, just to see the pure joy on Becky's face. It was a simple act, but it brought so much happiness to both of us. The fireflies danced around me, creating a magical atmosphere I'll never forget.
And out of pure joy, I fell in love with them. My heart, for the first time in a long time, felt strangely reawakened. The soft glow of their tiny bodies lit up the night, filling me with wonder and awe. It was a moment of pure serenity, where all worries and troubles seemed to fade away. As I watched Becky's eyes light up with delight, I realized that sometimes the simplest gestures can have the greatest impact.
I closed my eyes and wished that if only things were simpler and less complicated. I yearned to be transported back to that moment of pure serenity, where the soft glow of fireflies brought a sense of magic to the world. I longed for a life with more moments like these, where the beauty of simplicity could truly be appreciated.
Far from judgment. Far from threats. No deaths.
Far from the chaos and noise of everyday life, I longed for a world where genuine connection and joy could be found in the simplest of moments. In that moment of pure delight, I realized that sometimes all we need is a peaceful sanctuary, free from judgment and threats, where life can be cherished and celebrated without fear or loss.
"And CUT!"
And just like that, I was back to reality.
I was taken aback when Jim suddenly hugged me after a moment of silence.
"Wow, Freen, that was amazing. You made it so realistically magical. You're a real pro," Kade praised me while Jim just nodded and clapped. I couldn't help but blush, feeling a sense of accomplishment. Jim's hug was a reminder that sometimes the simplest moments can have the greatest impact.
I just smiled at them in response, still thinking about the moment the images flashed through my mind and I looked at Becky.
She was rushing off with Tee. I wondered what they were talking about. I felt disappointed, hoping she'd look my way, but she didn't. It's like I'm the only one feeling all this déjà vu through the whole set and shooting of this novel's film adaptation.
It's been happening for three months now, which also escalated my feelings for her. I'm still not doing anything because of the whole Blew incident and the death threats I'm receiving. I haven't talked to anyone about this yet, but I'm trusting Mr. M. He's the only person I can trust not to make things worse.
Becky has been acting weird too. She used to be so friendly and outgoing, but lately, she's been distant and avoiding me. I can't help but wonder if something is going on with her that I'm not aware of. It's making me even more hesitant to confront my feelings for her, as I don't want to add any more complications to the already tense situation.
I wonder if she also gets anonymous threat letters like I do. If she's experiencing similar issues, it could explain her change in behavior. It might be worth discussing our concerns with each other to find a solution.
I excused myself from everyone as politely and discreetly as possible. I didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention or make anyone suspicious. My assistant helped me change in my room in this mansion.
As I finished changing, I left my room and made my way to Becky's, hoping to catch up. This was usually the only time we could hang out, as the others were shooting scenes with Kirk and the other characters.
But unfortunately, she wasn't there.
"I'm sorry, Freen. But Tee and Becky went out for coffee."
"It's okay, Mee. It's not important. I was just trying to check in on her. Do you know when they'll be back?" I asked Mee, still hoping to catch up with Becky later.
"Hmm... I actually don't know. I'm sure they'll come later to rehearse their first scene together and Tee's first appearance in the film," Mee explained.
I nodded, understanding that I would have to wait a bit longer to see Becky. As Mee continued to talk about the upcoming scenes, I couldn't help but feel a sense of jealousy building within me.
"Don't worry, Freen; I'm sure you still have a chance," Mee said with a teasing look.
"I'm sorry?" I asked, confused by what he meant.
"Freen, baby, I can see the way you look at each other. Nothing passes my gaydar," he said with a wink.
"Okay, everyone, gather everything Becky needs for her next scene," Mee commanded his team as he turned his back on me.
I sighed and told him I was leaving, and he nodded. As I walked away, I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. Maybe Mee's comment held some truth, and I needed to confront my feelings head-on.
But with all these issues, it's hard, especially when Blew's and my fan clubs are blaming me for what happened to Blew.
I decided to leave the mansion to get some fresh air.
Becky's POV
"Now I remember where I saw him," I whispered to Tee.
"Can you please tell me why we're even hiding here? Spying, Mr. Cutie?" Tee asked, obviously not liking the idea.
"This is why he looked so familiar." I continued. "He was that substitute professor of philosophy when I was in college," I explained, my memory flooding back. "And we're not spying; we're just... observing."
"Observing what?" Tee asked confusedly, swatting at the mosquitoes lurking around us, making annoying sounds. She looked at me in disbelief.
"What?" I asked, confused why she was giving me that look.
"Becky, you are the one tailing the guy and stalking him here behind the bushes with all these mosquitoes. I don't even know why I came here with you," Tee said, rolling her eyes. "I mean, who does that? It's just creepy."
"Because he is fishy," I said again, trying to make her see my point.
"Just because he's baby-faced doesn't mean he's weird, you know," Tee tried to reason again.
"That is not my point here," I said in a high tone.
"Then what?!" Tee said in an even higher voice.
"Tee, shh," I said, covering her mouth as I saw Mr. Cutie/the writer finally exit the maid's room. "Come on, let's get in," I said, opening the window of the maid's quarters.
"What the hell, Becky, what are you doing?" Tee said in a panic.
"Relax. I got this," I said as the lock clicked and I got in. Tee hesitated for a moment before reluctantly following me through the window. The room was dimly lit, filled with the scent of lavender, and adorned with antique furniture.
"Can you tell me what we are looking at here?" Tee asked again, her voice filled with curiosity and a hint of unease. I glanced around the room, taking in the atmosphere before responding, "We're searching for any clues or evidence that might help us solve the mystery surrounding Mr. Cutie's disappearance."
"Come again? Didn't we just follow him here and watch him get out of the room?" I raised an eyebrow, puzzled by Tee's confusion. "Yes, we did witness him leaving the room, but something doesn't add up. There must be more to this than meets the eye."
"Becky, are you even hearing yourself? I don't get you. Can you explain to me first what's going on here?" Tee asked, clearly frustrated with my cryptic statements. "I understand your confusion, but remember the secret passage we found in this room before when we were just starting our shoot in this mansion?"
"Mhm. What about it?" Tee answered.
"Well, don't you notice that it's not here anymore?" I said, pointing at the spot where the secret passage used to be. "It's like it vanished into thin air. I think there's something hidden here that we haven't discovered yet."
She lit the spot with her phone like I did, and her eyes went wide. "H-how did this happen?" She asked, her voice filled with disbelief. "I mean, it was just here."
"Exactly," I said. "There must be some sort of mechanism or trick to make it disappear. We need to investigate further and find out what it is."
"So, why do you propose that this has to do with Blew's supposed murder case?" Tee asked, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Well," I began, "if there's something hidden here that we haven't discovered yet, it could potentially be a clue or evidence related to Blew's murder. It might be connected in ways we can't fully comprehend yet."
"I still don't see the connection between the guy who shot Blew. And I'm sure everyone will find out about him anyway when Blew wakes up; you know he's not dead; he's just in a coma." Tee reasoned, skeptical.
"Exactly why we are here; he is in a coma, and no one knows who that guy is going to kill next before Blew wakes up with all those death threats being sent to Freen and everyone else. I agree with you; it's crucial to investigate any potential connections between Blew's murder and Gunner. We need to uncover the truth before any more harm is done." I said, and I continued, "It's possible that Gun Man may have some involvement in Blew's coma, especially considering the death threats being sent to Freen and others. We can't afford to wait for Blew to wake up before taking action. We need to gather evidence and find out who is behind all of this before it's too late."
"Does she even know that you knew about this? When did you even start wanting to become a detective?" Tee's sarcastic comment interrupted my train of thought. I took a deep breath and replied, "No, she doesn't know yet. As for when I started wanting to become a detective, it was after witnessing the injustice and corruption in our city firsthand. I couldn't stand by and do nothing anymore." My philosophical answer seemed to surprise her.
She rolled her eyes. "HAHAHA. Funny." I shrugged off her sarcastic laughter and started finding something that would open the passage to the other room. I caught something on the side of an old closet.
I put my phone in my pocket and pulled the piece of paper that was stuck on the side of the closet. It was under the stand, so I tried to lift the closet. I struggled at first, but Tee helped me lift it, and I was able to pull the paper.
Tee and I looked at each other for a moment when I unfolded the paper. It was a faded handwritten note, or was it a letter? A very old letter?
We could hardly make out the words, but the delicate handwriting and yellowed paper suggested their age. Curiosity piqued, and we both leaned in closer to decipher its mysterious contents.
"It's an English letter," I whispered, my voice filled with excitement. The letter seemed to be from a bygone era, with phrases and expressions so old.
"I think we should leave now," I suggested, as I felt something cold brush against my shoulder. A shiver ran down my spine. The letter held an eerie presence, as if it were whispering secrets from the past.
"That's the best idea you ever suggested," Tee said with a nervous laugh. The atmosphere in the room had suddenly become heavy, and I could sense Tee's uneasiness as well. We carefully placed the letter back where we found it, making sure not to disturb its ancient energy any further.
"Come on," Tee whispered, shouting as she was already out the window. But I couldn't stop myself, so I grabbed the paper again, put it in my jeans pocket, and followed Tee outside the room.
"What are you two doing here?"
Rebecca's POV
"Good day, everyone. What are you having for breakfast?" Rebecca said, a huge and contagious smile on her face. She scanned the room, hoping to catch a peek at the delectable array that greeted them. Her tummy growled in anticipation as she inhaled the delicious aroma drifting from the kitchen.
Freen, who was cooking, didn't even bother to look at the lady, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. She stayed focused on her culinary creation, making certain that every dish was prepared to perfection. The sound of sizzling pots and clinking silverware filled the air, creating a symphony of flavors ready to be savored.
Miss Nam's and Irin's expressions were surprising. Irin quickly wiped the kitchen table and got a chair for the lady.
"Lady Rebecca, you should have rung the bell to alert me. So, I've prepared a spot for you to sit and enjoy the meal," Irin added nervously, and Lady Rebecca politely accepted the offer and settled into position at the kitchen table, eager to indulge in the culinary wonders before her.
"It's okay, Irin; I wanted to eat with you here, in the kitchen," Lady Rebecca smiled as she spoke. As Lady Rebecca announced her intention to dine in the kitchen, Irin felt a wave of comfort rush over her. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for Irin to dine with someone of such renown, and she couldn't help but feel flattered by the invitation.
"Lady Rebecca, your dress may become soiled. I can bring a tray, and we can eat in the dining room if you prefer," Irin said, motioning to the array of colorful jars and bowls on the kitchen table. "No need to worry, Irin," Lady Rebecca replied, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "I don't mind a little mess, especially when it comes to enjoying good food in good company."
"Lady Rebecca, I am delighted you have finally agreed to join us for breakfast. We have prepared a delectable assortment of pastries, fresh fruits, and a variety of savory dishes," Miss Nam said with a warm smile. Irin smiled at Miss Nam and nodded, adding, "We also have freshly brewed coffee and an assortment of teas to accompany your meal. Please take a seat and enjoy." Rebecca accepted the seat again, and she slid down the table and sat on the chair, picking up a grape, biting it, and smiling at Miss Nam.
"Hm... What's with my lady's bright smile this morning? What happened?" Miss Nam remarked with a sly grin.
"Well, guess what?" Rebecca said with a big smile. Miss Nam only stared at her, waiting for Rebecca to tell her what had happened.
Rebecca kept gazing, but this time with expectation, waiting for Miss Nam's reaction. Miss Nam finally spoke up after a brief pause: "Well, don't keep me waiting! What's the big news?" Rebecca's smile widened as she exclaimed, "Flower girl is REAL, she is REAL Miss Nam! She paid me a visit last night." Miss Nam's eyes widened in surprise as she heard Rebecca's comments. "You mean the imaginary friend?" she questioned, her poker face showing as she surreptitiously peered at Freen. Rebecca enthusiastically nodded, recalling every aspect of her meeting with the flower girl.
"Can you tell me who the flower girl is?" Irin murmured to Miss Nam, perplexed by what was happening to Lady Rebecca.
"Miss Nam, she visited yesterday night and delivered flowers," Rebecca explained.
While Miss Nam and Irin pretended to be listening to Rebecca's story, they talked to each other in their own language.
"Someone who enjoys breaking the rules and slipping out in the middle of the night, despite the severe rule that no one is allowed to leave the house during such hours of rest," Miss Nam stated, returning her gaze to Freen.
"She also wrote me a letter that I don't comprehend. Because she wrote it in your language, yet it's still moving. Irin, please translate for me." Rebecca murmured with bright eyes, now grasping Irin's hands with hopeful eyes, and Irin nodded hesitantly.
Miss Nam purposefully allowed Freen to hear what Miss Nam and Irin were talking about, and flour fell from her hand onto the floor as Freen's face became pale. She'd been caught red-handed, and now everyone knew what she'd been up to.
"Yes! Thank you, Irin," Rebecca replied, an appreciative smile on her face. "I can't wait to read it and feel the emotions she poured into her writing," Irin replied, happy that she could assist her friend.
Irin chuckled, which made Rebecca stare at her, as if she were wondering what she was laughing about.
"It's Freen," Irin announced.
Rebecca's forehead furrowed in perplexity. Irin's eyes widened, as though she was terrified. "I mean, Freen has flour on her hair," Irin said, Rebecca turning to face Freen. And she discovered Freen in an amusing scenario. While baking, she unintentionally spilled flour on her hair.
And that made Rebecca laugh at Freen. Freen slumped her shoulders, turned back at them, and tried to brush off the flour from her hair, but only ended up making it worse.
Rebecca's POV (Continued)
"Hahahah... this letter is epic," Tee said, laughing.
"Yeah, it was intense." Freen's comment made Tee laugh even harder. "I can't believe Patricia had the audacity to say that! But hey, at least she's not holding back her true feelings."
"You're talking like you know the person. And whoever wrote this letter is in deep trouble," Becky butted in and raised an eyebrow. "I wonder what George did to deserve such a harsh response." "Well, whatever it was, I don't think Patricia will be attending any family gatherings anytime soon," Tee replied with a smirk.
"I don't think it's funny." Freen's serious tone added a somber atmosphere to the conversation.
"Yes, I think so too." Becky seconded the sentiment, acknowledging the gravity of the situation.
"Relax, people; it's just a letter, and the people involved are already dead," Tee tried to lighten the mood. "There's no need to dwell on it too much."
"Hey, people, what's up?" Jim and Kade joined the three at the table.
"Why are you all so serious?" Kade asked with a puzzled expression. "Did we miss something?" Jim chimed in, looking around at the serious faces.
"Ah, it's nothing—"
"It's this letter we found in one of the rooms in this mansion." Becky was cut off by Tee, who had now brought the old letter to Kade and Jim.
Becky shook her head, while Freen just observed how Becky was so reluctant to share the contents of the letter. Kade and Jim exchanged curious glances before Kade finally spoke up, "Well, if it's bothering you that much, maybe we should all take a look and see what it says."
And they did.
"Are you kidding us? It's the script that they are shooting now," Jim exclaimed in disbelief. Kade and Tee exchanged puzzled looks, trying to make sense of Jim's statement. "Wait, so you're saying this letter is actually a script for a movie?" Kade asked, her confusion evident. Jim nodded, a smirk forming on his face as he realized the truth behind the mysterious letter.
"What?" Becky asked in confusion.
"Seriously? Are you trying to pull a prank on us? Where is it?" Jim and Kade laughed while looking for something in the corners of the room.
"What are you looking for?" Tee asked.
"Duh, the camera. It's over; we already got it; your prank is a failure." They said, still laughing. But the three just looked at them with puzzled expressions, unsure of what Jim and Kade were referring to. "What prank are you talking about?" Tee finally asked, breaking the silence. Jim and Kade exchanged confused glances before realizing their mistake.
"You mean you seriously found this?" The two finally realized. Becky, Freen, and Tee nodded.
"Woah. This is crazy," Jim.
"How?" Kade.
"It really is in the story, look." Tee said, showing the page where exactly this letter was written.
Script Excerpt Found in the Mansion
Mrs. Maurer:"It seems like your daughter is really not taking this union of our family seriously, Lord Armstrong." (Her voice filled with disappointment.) "We had hoped that she would understand the importance of our families coming together."
Lord Armstrong sighed heavily, his face etched with concern. "I fear we may need to have a serious conversation with her about her priorities and responsibilities."
Mr. Armstrong:"And I know my daughter; I believed she was just not in good condition. That could be the cause of her absence today," (His tone tinged with worry.) "Perhaps she is facing some personal challenges that we are unaware of. We should approach her with empathy and try to understand her perspective before jumping to conclusions."
Mrs. Maurer:"Personal challenges? My son's reputation was on the line because of her absence today. We need to address this situation promptly and ensure that she understands the consequences of her actions. It is crucial for her to prioritize her responsibilities and make better choices in the future," (She again reminded Mr. Armstrong.)
Prime Minister: (Whispering to Mr. Armstrong with conviction.) "I am not letting my son have this kind of insult during our visit to Siam."
Mr. Armstrong held the handle of his chair, trying to maintain his composure. He understood the gravity of the situation and knew that resolving it promptly was essential to preserving their reputation. Taking a deep breath, he responded to the Prime Minister, "I assure you, sir, that we will address this matter immediately and ensure that your son is treated with the utmost respect during his visit to Siam."
Prime Minister:"Let me just remind you that you will not be standing here now breathing if it weren't for our quick action, just because you cannot hold your dick and hide your pants," (With a hint of threat.)
Mr. Armstrong:"I will take care of this. I know my daughter refuses me," (He reassured the Prime Minister.)
Prime Minister:"Good. I don't want another humiliation. As you know, I have already arranged a friendly invitation to the Royal Family for my son and your Asian girl daughter. I expect everything to go smoothly and for your daughter to behave appropriately during the visit. This is a crucial opportunity for both of our families to strengthen our ties and showcase our diplomatic skills."
Prime Minister:"And of course you, as an ambassador here in Siam, Lord Richard Armstrong."
Mr. Armstrong smiled, but again, held the armchair tight. And he felt a soft hand, which calmed him down. He looked at his wife, smiling at him with reassurance.
And he held his wife's hand with the other hand and smiled. They were now in their room.
Lord Armstrong:"I don't know what's gotten into our daughter; we already talked about this, right? Why is it so hard for her to understand the situation? She never seems to listen or take our advice seriously." (He expressed his concern to his wife.) "Despite our efforts to communicate and guide our daughter, we are still puzzled by her resistance to understanding the situation. Am I doing something wrong to her?" (He asked his wife.)
Wife:"If you have doubts, then why are you still doing this to our daughter?" (She asked, looking into his eyes.)
He looked at his wife intently. He could see the concern and love in her eyes, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility for their daughter's behavior. Deep down, he wondered if there was something more they could do to bridge the gap between them and help her understand.
Lord Armstrong:"You don't understand how much I blame myself for her actions," (He admitted, his voice filled with guilt.) "I just want to find a way to make things right and ensure she grows up to be a happy and well-adjusted individual."
His wife reached out and gently squeezed his hand, reassuring him that they would figure it out together.
Wife:"And what makes you think she will be happy being married to the Prime Minister's son?" (Her voice filled with concern.) "We need to consider her own desires and aspirations rather than assuming what will make her happy. It's important to have open conversations with her, listen to her thoughts and dreams, and support her in finding her own path in life."
Lord Armstrong:"Find her own path?" (He asked, raising an eyebrow.)
Wife:"Yes," (She responded with a nod.) "Just like we did when we were her age, it's important for her to have the freedom to explore her own passions and make choices that align with her values and ambitions."
Lord Armstrong:"No," (He said almost a whisper, his voice filled with concern.) "I don't want her to make the same mistakes we did. We should guide her towards a more secure and stable future."
Wife:"Are you saying you are regretting what we had and the decisions we made?" (His wife asked, her voice tinged with surprise.)
Lord Armstrong:"No, I'm not saying that," (He replied, shaking his head.) "I just want to ensure that she has a strong foundation and doesn't have to face the same challenges we did."
Wife:"Are you sure about that?" (His wife said, not believing that he was being completely honest. She had sensed a hint of dissatisfaction in his tone and wondered if there was something more he wasn't expressing.)
Lord Armstrong:"I am going to make her marry the Prime Minister's son. And that is final." (His wife's eyes widened in shock at his unexpected declaration. She couldn't help but feel a mix of concern and curiosity about his sudden determination to secure such a high-profile match for their daughter.)
Mr. Lee:"Lord Armstrong." (A male voice broke the tension inside with a knock on their door.)
Mr. Armstrong:"What is it, Mr. Lee?" (He answered, not minding getting up from his chair; instead, he frustratedly lit his tobacco.)
Mr. Lee:"A letter from young lady Rebecca." (In a faint voice.)
Mr. Armstrong:"Get in." (He answered.)
Mrs. Armstrong:"Let me see it," (She said excitedly, but...)
Mr. Armstrong:"You won't understand. It is written in English," (He said.)
Mr. Lee:"I can help translate it for you," (He offered, stepping forward.) "I studied English in university and can assist with any language barriers." Mrs. Armstrong gratefully accepted his offer, eager to read the letter from their daughter.
Mr. Armstrong:"NO. I can do that myself. You can get out, Mr. Lee." (He said firmly.) Mr. Lee nodded and left the room.
Mrs. Armstrong sat on the bed quietly, waiting for her husband to tell her what was written in their daughter's letter.
But she was startled when Mr. Armstrong crumpled the letter and threw it into the wastebasket. "I don't want to hear a word from her," he muttered, his face filled with anger and disappointment. Mrs. Armstrong's heart sank as she realized the depth of her husband's resentment towards their daughter. She knew it would take time and patience to mend their fractured relationship.
"That ungrateful kid!" He shouted and left the room.
Mrs. Armstrong, on the other hand, remained seated, her mind racing with thoughts of how to bridge the growing divide between her husband and their daughter. She knew that it would require understanding and open communication to repair the damaged bond, but she also understood that it wouldn't be an easy task. As she knows, her daughter is a little bit aloof with her too, as she left the poor kid with her grandmother in the United Kingdom. As that was what her husband thought would be best, she really misses her daughter so much.
With that thought, she picked up the crumpled letter, uncrumpled it, and saw the beautiful handwriting of her daughter.
She ran her fingers through the letters, feeling them on paper, and her tears fell as her heart sank.
Hearing her husband's footsteps coming back into the room, she quickly hid it in her closet under her underwear. She took note of what Mr. Lee had offered her earlier.
"What are you doing?" Mr. Armstrong asked.
"Richard."