When the Script Changes

Chapter 4: The Breaking Point

Becky didn't sleep that night.

No matter how many times she rolled over, buried her face in her pillow, or tried to drown out her thoughts with music, nothing worked.

Freen's words echoed in her head.

"I don't want anyone else looking at you the way I do."

She had played those words over and over, dissecting every possible meaning.

Was it just possessiveness? Or... was it something more?

She should have confronted Freen properly. She should have pushed until she got a real answer.

But the truth was—she was scared.

Because if Freen had admitted to something more, then Becky would have to face her own feelings.

And that was something she wasn't sure she was ready for.

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The next morning, Becky walked onto set with dark circles under her eyes and an unresolved battle raging in her chest.

And then she saw Freen.

For a moment, Becky thought maybe Freen would acknowledge what happened last night. Maybe they'd talk. Maybe Freen would crack a joke to lighten the mood.

But no.

Freen didn't even look at her.

She was standing with Lena, talking, laughing, looking completely unbothered.

Becky clenched her fists.

Seriously?

She wasn't sure why it annoyed her so much, but it did.

Wasn't she the one losing sleep over this? Wasn't she the one stuck in emotional turmoil?

Yet Freen was here, acting like last night had never even happened?

Fine. Two can play this game. 

So Becky ignored Freen right back.

She threw herself into conversations with the crew, smiled a little too brightly at the director's jokes, and when Lena walked by, Becky made sure to pull her into a chat.

And maybe—just maybe—she let her laughter ring out just a little louder than necessary.

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It didn't take long for Becky to notice.

Freen was watching her.

She wasn't saying anything, wasn't interrupting—but she was watching.

Her gaze was sharp, calculating, darkened with something Becky could almost recognize.

And then, during a break, Becky pushed it even further.

"Hey, Lena," she said, placing a hand lightly on the woman's arm. "Do you want to grab coffee later? I'd love to pick your brain about character work."

Lena smiled. "Sure, that sounds fun."

It was harmless. Completely innocent.

But Becky felt the shift in the air before she even turned around.

Freen was staring.

Not just looking—staring.

Jaw clenched. Fingers curled into a fist.

Becky's heart pounded.

She wasn't sure what she was doing—was she testing Freen? Was she trying to prove something to herself?