Chapter 6: Vulnerable

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"From now on, you have to come with me on every tour and meeting. The world tour got canceled after the last incident," I informed Freen.

We were in the dining area, and Freen was briefing me on what I needed to do to fulfill my duties successfully.

"What incident?" I asked her curiously.

She shrugged, acting like she had no choice, and continued to look at her phone. "Haven't you heard? Someone spread rumors about my on-screen partner having a girlfriend. She got angry and demanded that I stay away from a cheater."

"If show business is so complicated, why don't you just quit?" I asked her again.

She raised her eyebrows and stared into my eyes. "Who are you to tell me that? This is my dream, and I've worked hard to achieve it." With that, she stood up and walked away.

Who am I?

Suddenly, an old wound resurfaced. I thought I was okay and could handle Freen's anger, but her words caused a different kind of pain.

I tried to hold back my tears by looking up. "I am Rebecca Patricia Armstrong, and I can do this. I can be Sarocha Chakinmha's assistant. I will do everything to bring us back to how we were before and regain her trust." I made a pledge to myself.

I have to keep going. After all, this is my fault anyway.

»»---------------------►

"Freen, after this show, you have a fan meeting at–" I was interrupted by Freen's phone ringing.

We were in Bangkok for her mall tour. After this, she had a photoshoot with her partner for her new drama, followed by a fan meeting.

"Hi, Becky, right?" a tall guy approached me. He was wearing a black tux and sunglasses, so I couldn't recognize him at first.

"Yes, and who are you, sir?" I asked politely.

He took off his sunglasses, and my eyes widened in recognition.

Oh, he's the director of Freen's first drama that made her famous. What is he doing here? Is he also the one behind Freen's recent series?

"I'm a producer, and you must be Freen's new PA?"

Confusion filled my mind. New? Did Freen have a previous assistant before me? Why didn't she mention it? Wait... Who am I, anyway?

"Are you interested in becoming an actress? I can pair you with Freen if you're uncomfortable with others. Besides, you have the looks to be a model or endorser," he complimented.

My face turned red with embarrassment. "I'm good. I want to be Freen's assistant, anyway." I smiled at him and whispered, "It's on my bucket list."

The producer chuckled and nodded before saying goodbye, putting his sunglasses back on.

"What did he say?" Freen asked, suddenly appearing.

"I politely declined his offer to become an actress," I replied, smiling at her. "Let's go; you have a photoshoot with Miss Pattranite today."

"Cancel it. I'm not feeling well," Freen said, turning her back and leaving the dressing room.

I hurriedly found her manager to explain why Freen had canceled all her appointments for the day. She understood the situation, so I rushed to get into Freen's car.

"Can you drive?" she asked me.

"No," I replied.

She rolled her eyes at my answer. "Seems like I'm the one working for you." She started the engine and fastened her seatbelt. "Don't expect me to put a seatbelt on you."

Oh, right.

I quickly fastened my seatbelt while she watched. It was awkward with Freen's blank expression.

"Your seatbelt is twisted. Can you sit properly? Let me fix it," she said, unfastening both of our seatbelts.

Our faces were inches apart, and I caught a whiff of her perfume. I tried not to breathe heavily, but it was too late. She was looking at me intently with furrowed eyebrows. She tilted her head, examining my expression while her hand rested on my shoulder.

Oh my goodness, Freen. Your sweet scent is intoxicating. It's overwhelming me. If only I could tell her, I definitely would!

"It's funny how I didn't notice it before," her voice became hoarse as she started gently caressing my cheek. "You're beautiful, Becky."

My face turned even redder, and I noticed Freen blushing too. She began to sweat excessively and breathe heavily. She licked her lips and let out a heavy sigh before running her hands through her long black hair.

Wait, this isn't normal.

These are the side effects of Ecstasy, a drug that can make people euphoric, energetic, confident, and affectionate towards others. The main ingredient of this drug is methylenedioxymethamphetamine or MDMA.

I don't think Freen would take this during the mall shows. Someone must have spiked her drink, but why? I could think of only two possibilities: they either wanted to take advantage of Freen or ruin her reputation in front of her fans.

"Freen, are you feeling hot?" I asked, concerned.

She nodded, her eyes filled with need.

I removed her cardigan and tied her hair into a ponytail. I grabbed a towel from the car's compartment and a bottle of water.

Making her drink water wasn't a good idea, and it was the one thing I knew I shouldn't do if someone had consumed ecstasy.

I opened the car door and poured the water onto the towel. Then I gently wiped her face, neck, and upper chest.

Freen continued to look at me the same way as before, making me swallow the lump in my throat. This wasn't a good idea.

"Close the door," Freen ordered, and I complied.

As soon as I closed the car door, she pulled me in for a deep kiss. I could sense her desperation in every kiss. I wanted to pull away, but I knew this was the only way to help her release the intense heat she was experiencing inside.

She bit my lower lip, seeking entrance, and I obliged.

I'm sorry, Freen. I'm sorry for taking advantage of you.

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