Multi Shot - LingOrm and FreenBecky

FREENBECKY - Xx (05)

Sunlight streamed through thin curtains, stirring Freen awake earlier than she would've liked on a day off. She glanced at her phone, confirming that yes, she had no shift at XX Bar today. Finally, she thought, sinking back into her pillow with a sigh of relief. If only she could sleep in...

No such luck.

Her phone buzzed with a message from Nok

Nok (7:42 AM):  

You better not be lazing around. Get up and bring me lunch! I'm stuck at work again...

Freen couldn't help a slight grin. Typical. Nok's boss had called her in for yet another urgent project, and as always, Freen was first on her speed dial whenever she needed a morale boost—or food.

She shuffled out of bed, hastily threw on a pair of jeans and a comfy t-shirt, then meandered into the kitchen. 

A quick inventory of the fridge revealed the usual suspects: leftover rice, a couple of eggs, and some fresh basil. 

Pad kra pao, it is, she decided. Nok would complain, of course, but she'd still devour it.

An hour later, Freen found herself weaving through Bangkok's bustling streets, clutching a plastic bag full of steaming takeout containers. Nok's office building towered above a throng of lunchtime pedestrians. 

Inside, fluorescent lights and glass dividers gave everything a sterile glow. Freen spotted Nok's tiny cubicle among rows of busy employees.

"Finally, you're here!" Nok exclaimed the moment she noticed Freen. She popped up from her seat, attracting several curious stares from colleagues. "I'm starved."

"Didn't even say please," Freen teased, handing over the bag. "You owe me big for this."

Nok rummaged through the containers, her eyes lighting up at the fragrant basil stir-fry. "I'll pay you back... by letting you buy me dinner later."

Freen rolled her eyes. "Wow, such generosity."

Leaning against the edge of Nok's desk, Freen watched her friend dig in with unashamed enthusiasm. It was moments like these—simple, mundane, yet oddly grounding—that reminded Freen she wasn't alone. The pressures of the bar, Becky's presence, the swirling emotions she tried so hard to bury—all of it felt slightly more manageable when she was around Nok.

"So," Nok said between bites, "what's on your itinerary for your precious day off? Don't tell me you're going back to the bar anyway."

Freen shrugged. "I'm not that big of a workaholic. I was thinking about practicing a few new cocktail recipes at home. Gotta keep my skills sharp."

"Ugh, you're hopeless." Nok shook her head in mock disapproval. "Days off are for relaxing. Do something fun—like visiting the weekend market or hitting a spa."

"Practicing cocktails is fun," Freen retorted with a playful smirk. She conveniently omitted the fact that she kept a mental list of new recipes to distract herself from Becky-related stress.

"Well, if you end up bored, call me," Nok said, taking another mouthful of food. "I might be stuck here until evening, but I can usually ditch once the boss leaves."

Freen laughed. "Sounds like a plan. Just don't forget who delivered your lunch today when you're rolling in that sweet paycheck."

Nok snorted. "As if it's that sweet." She glanced at Freen's expression and softened her tone. "Still... thanks for coming by. I know you could've slept in."