Freen's POV
"What stories? What do you mean by historical?" I had to cut him off as soon as I heard what he was saying. I was lost.
He turned pale and looked as if he realized something. I gave him a questioning look, thinking he might have mistaken me for someone else.
"A-ah. I mean the other fanfiction novels that I've read, written by other authors about Becky and you. They were amazing, and it inspired me to write my fanfiction as my idol." His eyes were looking everywhere but at me; he must be shy. I can't blame him—I get shy whenever I see my face in the mirror too.
"I'm sorry if I confused you. I was just too nervous and excited that I had finally met you. You and Becky are real and so beautiful in person, like angels who came down to earth."
I smirked in my head, hearing him say that; he was so red and still not looking at me directly.
"Oh my god, of course we're real, hehe. Thank you. Don't say that. Becky and I are just normal people like everyone else," I said, trying to calm him. He looked like he was going to pass out.
He replied, "I know you guys are not normal. You both are my idols, and meeting you is a dream come true."
"Haha, I'm grateful to hear that. But we as celebrities wouldn't be in our position if it weren't for our fellow fans who supported us from the start. Our fans are the reason we're able to pursue our passions. So thank you very much, Mr. Cute Guy, for being an avid fan. Even though this tandem was made by fans, look where we are now—filming a film adaptation of one of the greatest fanfics ever made by fans. You are one of us now; you are part of this industry," I sincerely told him, tapping his shoulder.
"Thank you." His short but sincere reply held something more behind it. He just stood there, as if lost in thought. What's up with this guy? Something's off about this writer.
A moment of silence passed, and I received a text from my assistant—Director Wuttapong was asking us to prepare for the next shoot.
I looked at the time: 4:30 AM. It was only then that I noticed the busy people around us. I couldn't shake off the feeling that the writer was hiding something. Why didn't I see him earlier? It's unusual not to be greeted. I'm not demanding attention, but it's strange.
And he suddenly appeared in front of me
"I guess it's my cue to go now, Miss Freen. You need to prepare for your shoot," the writer said before walking away. I just nodded.
There's something off about this writer. Maybe it's just my imagination, but I'll keep an eye on him.
I might need to see my therapist soon. My imagination is getting more bizarre. Or is it?
What if my gut feelings are true?
INT. SERVANTS' QUARTERS – NIGHT
"Where have you been? The butler has been looking for you. He has an important announcement in the servants' headquarters," my co-servant told me as I returned after the dance, thankful Kirk helped me change unseen.
Dimly lit. Whispers echo off stone walls. SERVANTS line up stiffly, faces tense. At the front stands LADY NAM beside MR. LEE, a tall white man in his 50s. FREEN, a young servant girl with sharp eyes, slips quietly into formation, breathless. Her CO-SERVANT leans toward her.
Co-servers(whispers)''Where have you been? The butler's been looking for you. Important announcement.''
FREEN swallows hard. Her eyes scan the room. Her MOTHER stands in the front row, glaring.
FREEN POVDid someone catch me sneaking out? This might be it.(beat)Not the first time. But I can't mess this up again.
She straightens her posture. Loud, echoing FOOTSTEPS silence the room. LADY NAM steps forward.
LADY NAM: Is everyone here?
FREEN'S MOTHER: Yes, everyone is present.
LADY NAM: This is Mr. Lee, the Armstrong family's butler. He has an announcement.
Mr. Lee steps up and speaks in ENGLISH. Lady Nam translates.
LADY NAM (translating)''Some of you will be selected to accompany Lady Rebecca to her new residence. Serve her with the same loyalty.''
FREEN shifts uncomfortably. Her blouse sticks to her back with dried sweat. She discreetly smells herself. Too late to freshen up.
LADY NAM (CONT'D)
''Lady Rebecca will choose based on skill and attitude.''
A collective inhale. Then—gasps.
FREEN'S POV
I froze when I heard what Miss Nam just said. I quickly smell my breath and armpits; it would be embarrassing if she came near me and I smelled bad. There is a possibility because my sweat from the dance had already dried in my clothes because I didn't have time to change because of this gathering.
LADY REBECCA enters like a phantom. Ethereal. Beautiful. But her face is streaked with pain. Red eyes. Flushed nose. Silent, haunted. She stops just inches from FREEN.
They lock eyes. The world falls away.
FREEN (V.O.)She looked like an angel. But her eyes... Her eyes were dead. Prideful. Broken.
She really is beautiful. She is so innocent-looking, like an angel who came to earth to light the darkness in my world. But I saw something in her eyes. Did she just cry? It is so obvious, as it is a little reddish, like her cute nose, and her lips are so pink. I swallowed hard as she wet it with her tongue and bit her lower lip. This is the first time I have been able to observe her face this close since she came back.
When did she get here? I didn't even notice her arrival. She was looking at me from head to toe. I am a little insulted that she does that from head to toe. I am a little insulted that she does that. Her eyes, which used to be vibrant before, are now like a dead person's eyes, and they're full of pride.
LADY REBECCA'S gaze sharpens. She steps closer. I barely breathe. Rebecca leans in—
We are still looking at each other's faces, but I am more focused on her blue-grey eyes, as it really look like the sky. I saw how the black hole in her eyes dilated.
"It's beautiful," I whispered as I concentrated on her eyes, but she pulled away from me.
She rounded me up, questioning my existence on earth.
—and sniffs me.
Embarrassed, I looked down, gripping both sides of my servant's clothes. My hair stood up as she leaned her face into my neck. I thought she was going to bite, but I was surprised when she sniffed my neck, and I got so weak from what she just did.
She acted like she was going to puke, and I feel mad about it. She's looking down on us; she is like the other elite people who see servants as trash. But maybe I just misjudged her about this matter, so I didn't bother about it, and she is the daughter of the people who pay us to so I dont have the power to object.
I flinch. Rage flashes behind her eyes. REBECCA recoils, dramatically covering her mouth like she's about to gag.
LADY REBECCA(smugly)"When did you last bathe? ''
I clenched my jaw. My fists. My pride. But then—My mother's eyes. Warning me.
REBECCA laughs, airy and cruel.
LADY REBECCA''Hahaha, wooh. You scared me. I thought you'd punch me.''
She leans in again, voice a venomous whisper.
LADY REBECCA''Are you threatening me, servant? ''
She moves on like nothing happened. Calmly selects others. Avoids me entirely.
She must not like me. That's fine. I don't want to serve a brat. I may kill her myself.
Mr. Lee clears his throat.
MR. LEE: My lady—no test of skills?
REBECCA shakes her head. Done.
The crowd disperses. Tension hangs like smoke. I turn to leave, bitter, crushed.
'' Is that all, my lady? You won't have any competition or test their skills before selecting? '' Mr. Lee asked her, but she just shook her head. I don't understand what they are talking about in the front, but I think the selection is over. I can finally get out of this place. I just feel so drained knowing that the person I have admired most all these years has a demon inside. It felt like the world came to a dark pitch as I saw her real identity as a demon, not an angel at all. I need to find a way to move on from this disappointment and not let it consume me. It's time to focus on finding positive role models who align with my values and beliefs. I might have just filled my head with a lot of fantasy about her creating a person in my head, which is so far from reality.
She is no angel. But a demon.Time to let the fantasy die.
But just as she steps out—
After the selection, everyone went to their respective tasks. I was about to get out too.
LADY NAM''Freen''
I freeze. Slowly turns.
FREEN''Miss Nam? ''
Miss Nam, ''Your presence is ordered in Lady Rebecca's room right now."
"What?"
'You are selected by Lady Rebecca as her personal maid; you're to be with her all the time, and your task starts now as she requested you to start serving her now.' Miss Nam explained.
''No,'' I said immediately as I heard what she just said.
'' There is nothing you can do as we are all pleading with her not to complain, Freen. And you must be thankful that being her maid gives you a high chance of getting promoted as chief servant someday. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It was disheartening to know that the only way to get ahead in this household was through manipulation and submission.
I just nodded my head and didn't question anymore. I don't want to ruin my mother's trust in me.
Cut to black.
And CUT!
INT. SOUNDSTAGE – POST-SCENE WRAP – NIGHT
The set lights dim. CREW MEMBERS clap and begin to disperse. CAMERAS shut down. The vintage set fades around FREEN, like fog rolling back into the sea.
FREEN stands still in the center of it all, blinking as reality bleeds back in around her. Her breath is shallow. The corset is gone. The dirt under her nails has vanished. She's in costume, but no longer in character.
Freen's POV
I blinked.
The sharp voice of Director Wattaput had sliced through the air like a knife. The room, just moments ago a grand hall of another time, began dissolving—its shadows peeling off like old paint—as reality crept back in.
A long silence followed.
Then came the claps.
Soft at first. Scattered.
Then louder. Building. Echoing."Brilliant.""God, that was intense.""She became the character.""Both of them... breathtaking."
Faint voices surrounded me. Too many to follow. Like whispers from across dimensions. I heard them but didn't feel them—like I was underwater, and the world above was muffled and blurred.
I stood still, breath shallow, eyes adjusting to the now.
But something hadn't left me.
I watched as the last fragments of the other world—the one we were filming in—faded. The high windows. The marble floors. The weight of another era pressing on my shoulders. Gone.
Only the studio lights remained.
Yet in my bones, I still felt the silk of that maid's uniform clinging to my skin. I could still smell the lingering trace of garden roses and dust. My heartbeat wasn't mine now—it belonged to her. The girl I'd just portrayed. Or was she… me?
This wasn't acting. Not anymore. Every scene we shot cracked open a part of my soul I didn't know existed. A memory not remembered, but relived.
What is happening to me?
The applause kept going. Distant. Echoed.
"Freen, that was—wow.""You and Rebecca… it was like watching real history unfold.""Where did that emotion come from?"
I turned slowly, and my eyes met hers.
Rebecca.
She was already looking at me.
Still wearing the ghost of her character. Still half in the past, like me.
"Rebecca," I whispered.
But I wasn't sure if I said it out loud… or if it was her name I was calling from centuries ago.