Note: Have you read The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid? This story reminds me of it. If you haven't, you better start reading. It's my favorite book! 🥹
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"Are you okay?" Mei asked, "you look a little... nervous."
"Nervous?" Becca laughed, feeling slightly faint as her hands trembled in her lap, one leg curled up beneath her as she curled in on herself as if she would go unnoticed if she made herself smaller, "I'm bloody terrified. I've kept this a secret for thirteen years. I don't even know what I'm feeling right now."
Looking towards the cameras, Mei waved dismissively, a small smile curling her lips, "let's take a break."
Nodding, Becca pushed herself to her feet with relief, stretching out her stiff muscles as the sound of noise and commotion filled the room.
Mei climbed to her feet and gripped Becca's arm as she walked part, telling her that she was doing great, and Becca gave her a faint smile, feeling slightly shaky as she curled her hands into fists.
Taking a slow breath, she walked away from the scene of the interview, stepping over snaking black leads and around camera and sound equipment. Rawee was standing off to one side, with Beer, Nam and Jen next to her, and Becca made straight for them.
Giving them a nervous smile, she accepted a bottle of water off Jen and took a tentative sip. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest and her palms were clammy, but there was an overwhelming feeling of relief as well. She'd finally been honest with the world.
It was a good feeling, to be able to be herself, even if there was an undercurrent of fear at what everyone would say. But the people she cared about knew already, and they loved her and accepted her, so Becca was less frightened than she'd been the first time she'd come out.
It hadn't been easy, all those years ago, and she doubted it would be now, but it was something that she had to do.
For too long, she felt like she'd been living a double life, and she just wanted to let go of some of the secrets weighing heavily upon her.
"I'm proud of you," Rawee firmly told her once Becca had managed to calm herself down slightly. "That was... very brave."
Letting out a surprised laugh, Becca raised her eyebrows and gave her mum a wry smile.
"Brave? What, waiting thirteen years to come out?"
Reaching up to cup her daughter's face in her hands, Rawee smiled down at her with faint amusement in her green eyes.
"Whether you came out when you were fifteen or fifty, it's still a brave thing to do."
A brooding look crossed Becca's face and she gently pulled back from her mum's touch, taking another sip of water and looking over to the camera crew.
Running a hand through her hair, Becca pressed her lips together in a thin line. An exasperated sigh made her turn back to the group she stood with, and Beer reached out and started fiddling with her hair.
"Don't do that," she chided her, "you need to look perfect for the cameras."
"And you need to sit properly, Becca," Nam scolded her, "don't curl your feet up beneath you, it's inappropriate. And your posture is atrocious."
"Yes, yes," Becca flippantly agreed, knowing that it was better to take their advice than try and argue that it was uncomfortable and she wanted to do as she pleased.
After all, they'd been hired to make her look and act the part of a celebrity, to pose as someone who could navigate her way through interviews, wearing the latest fashion trends, to always be ahead of the game and keep people talking about her.
Becca didn't think it mattered how she was sitting or what her hair looked like in this interview. everyone would be too busy listening to what she had to say to worry about appearances. Besides, it was all pageantry anyway, and not at all the real version of herself.
In Becca's opinion, appearances mattered very little in the grand scheme of things.
She bit back a sigh as Beer waved over her hair and makeup team, and her bottle of water was taken off her as a fresh layer of lipstick was applied and her dark curls were fixed back into shape. Rawee gave her a stern look when she caught the irritation in Becca's eyes, and she bit back a smile as she gave her mum a pointed look.
As the hair and makeup team retreated, giving her space to breathe again, she took a deep breath and tried to force the tension out of her shoulders. Rawee reached out and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
"What... what do you think she'll say?" Becca hesitantly asked, anxious look on her face.
"Freen?" Rawee asked, eyebrows rising slightly, "I think she'll be proud of you too. I know how hard this always made things for the two of you."
Grimacing, Becca ducked her head down as a frown drew her heavy eyebrows together. Cupping her face in her hand, Rawee stroked her cheekbone and urged Becca's face up.
"Hey, it's going to be fine."
"Yeah," Becca said with a small smile.
Her gaze wandered over to one of the rosewood bookshelves lining the wall. There were clothbound classics and the complete leatherbound set of Encyclopædia Britannica neatly arranged.
Antique photo frames, trinkets and candles were dispersed amongst the books and Becca felt drawn to them as she tuned out the conversation of the women gathered around her.
Wandering over to the wall of built-in bookshelves, she let her fingers skim the spines of the books, and paused at a photo frame. It was tarnished silver and wrought it whorls, bought at the flea market where her and Freen had first been photographed together in public.
There was nothing particularly profound about that day, and they'd been with a group of friends, but being photographed together in public had been enough to make Becca's heart pound, knowing that they lived in a secret world that they'd built themselves, and no matter how it looked to everyone on the outside, they'd never known the truth.
Until now.
Reaching out, she picked it up and stared down at the black and white photo inside it. It was from the trip that her and Freen had taken to Big Sur a few years ago.
Becca's hair was shorter then, and straight, and Freen had her chin on her shoulder. The photo was just of their faces, but Becca remembered the way it felt to have her arms around her waist, being hugged from behind.
Tracing the curve of Freen's face behind the glass, Becca's lips twitched slightly before she set the frame back down on the shelf and turned away from it.
Looking around the place, at the Persian rugs, the dozens of photos scattered around the place, the large chess board over in the far corner with the curved sofa, the books stowed beneath the coffee table in the main living room, there were memories of Freen everywhere, and it was astounding to Becca that no one had picked up on it before.
They'd spent hours playing chess together, some of the books were ones that Freen had left over, and the photos were so blatantly obvious that she was surprised that everyone that came into her apartment didn't pick up on it in an instant.
But then again, those she trusted already knew, and she wasn't prone to letting strangers into her home.
Books were just books, they didn't know about the memories made on the deep leather sofas, about the songs written for Freen on the upright piano tucked away in an alcove, or the rose pink geraniums in the terracotta pot that she'd been cultivating for a few years, because Freen loved them so much.
They'd died of thirst a few times, but she'd always replaced them, and Freen had always come back.
Scanning the crowded room, she spotted Mei's platinum head leaning over to peer at the monitor, nodding as the director said something to her.
Resolve strengthening, Becca let all the tidbits of her and Freen's tumultuous relationship reinforce her iron-willed determination to sit through the interview, and she took a step forward.
Moving across the room, she approached Mei, who looked up at the looming sight of her.
After a few minutes of conversation, another cautious sip of water and touched up make-up, and she found herself sitting back in her armchair.
The positioning of her chair gave her a nice view out of the window, streaks of rainwater sliding down the glass window panes, and Becca idly thought about permanently keeping it there.
Her furniture had been somewhat rearranged to accommodate the interview setting and the accompanying equipment necessary for it to take place, and she was enjoying the view of red-bricked buildings of varying sizes, the grey sky and the glimpses of green plants crowding balconies, and the hints of colourful flowers still clinging to life.
"Ready to continue?" Mei asked, shaking her out of her thoughts.
Blinking herself back to the present, Becca gave her a small smile, nodding as she fixed her posture, sitting up straight, legs crossed at the ankles, hands demurely placed in her lap, and became hyper-aware of the camera lenses reflecting the warm light of the room, the muffled shuffles of people moving and the tension in the room rising as everyone tried their best to be quiet as the cameras started rolling.
The director signalled to let them know that they were filming, and Becca looked back towards Mei.
"So, you were telling us about the night of the Grammy's, where everything changed for you. You said you had a message off Freen," Mei prompted.
One side of her mouth lifting into a smile, Becca tilted her head to the side, a spark in her green eyes as she fiddled with the cuff of her shirt.
"Yes. I suppose that it's silly of me to say that e\everything changed for me that night. I didn't know her. I was just... starstruck, but not by the fact that she was a celebrity. Freen just... well, she's just herself, and I was completely blindsided by her. I remember her messaging me and saying that she had been wonderstruck meeting me, and I think that it's the most perfect word for how I felt meeting her too. Wonderstruck. I've created my whole career from songwriting, and there's never been such a word that's left me with such a profound feeling before, but that night, reading that message, and feeling all the things I felt... it's stuck with me all these years."
"Seeing as you said yourself that this is the second beginning of your story, it's safe to assume that you saw each other again. What happened next?"
Becca smiled as she was enveloped in another memory, a warm feeling blossoming inside her chest, and she let out a small sigh as her face softened, a tender look in her green eyes.
She'd been consumed with thoughts of Freen for days following the Grammy's after party, and although she had her number, they hadn't messaged each other again. Becca was only in town until the following Saturday, before she had to go back to National City.
She was in the midst of trying to buy an apartment there, to make things easier for her career, and she was a little disappointed at the fact that she probably wouldn't see Freen again unless they happened to be at the same party or ceremony.
Becca had thought that there had been a spark there, but perhaps she'd been wrong and reading too much into things.
But then she'd received a text.
A message off Freen asking her if she'd like to go for coffee on Wednesday.
Becca had to stop herself from letting out an uncharacteristic sound of delight, hugging her phone to her chest as her cheeks flushed pink with a glow of happiness. She'd messaged back shortly afterwards, trying not to sound too eager, and they'd set a time and a place.
Becca looked it up and found that it was a small place, discreet and away from the typical celebrity hotspots. It was a place they wouldn't be photographed.
On Wednesday, she made an excuse to her mum and to Monique that she was going to do some light shopping by herself, taking some time to enjoy the city before they left.
They didn't question it, and Monique was left beside her private pool, while Rawee enjoyed cocktails at The Cabana Cafe.
It was a mild day outside and she dressed down in an olive green pleated skirt and a thin cream sweater, trying to look nice but not wanting to draw attention to herself.
She wasn't sure if this classed as a date, but still, if anyone saw them together and rumours started to circulate, she'd have a lot of explaining to do.
A valet had already brought her rental car out front for her, and as she walked out of the hotel, she thanked him with a few folded bills and slid into the front seat of the black Range Rover.
Following the route shown to her by the car's navigation system, she drove herself through the city, making her way towards the cafe and parking a block away as a precaution.
With a nervous feeling in her stomach, she made the walk back the way she'd come, until she found the name of the cafe Freen had given her.
Pausing outside for a moment, she hesitantly pushed open the door of the small establishment, finding it well lit and stuffed with small round tables, low sofas and wingback armchairs.
It was cosy, and Becca looked around, blinking in surprise when she saw Freen on her feet, waving her over. She was early.
Biting back a smile, Becca made her way through the maze of tables and chairs, taking in the few other customers, who were too preoccupied to pay her any attention, and she neared Freen.
The blonde had her hair up, a pair of glasses on and was dressed down in light washed jeans and a striped navy and white sweater.
"Hi," Freen warmly greeted her, rounding the table to pull Becca's chair out for her in a surprisingly nice gesture, helping her sit before claiming her own again.
Caught off guard by the fact that Freen had gotten here early, and had pulled her chair out for her, Becca found herself suddenly shy.
That was a rare thing for her, and she felt her cheeks grow warm as she started to get flustered. The more she tried not to let herself get flustered, the more flustered she became.
"Hi."
"How are you?" Freen asked, her face softening with a warm smile. Her eyes were incredibly blue in the daylight and Becca could barely bring herself to meet her gaze.
"I'm good," Becca said, giving her a shy smile, "and you?"
"Great! Coffee?"
Quickly climbing to her feet, Becca gave her an expectant look, meeting Freen's slightly wide-eyed look.
"Sure. Um, my treat. How do you take it?"
The mild look of surprise softened into an eye-crinkling smile, and Freen propped her chin up in her hand as she gazed up at her.
"A maple latte, please. With almond milk."
Nodding, Becca grabbed her bag and made her way up to the counter. There was a selection of cakes and tarts on display in the fridge, and she debated wondering whether or not to order something sweet for them to eat.
She wasn't confident in ordering something that Freen would like though, and, if she was being honest, ordering something a while later meant that she could prolong her time with Freen.
Deciding that just coffee, for now, was the safest option, she recited Freen's order to the barista and ordered a caramel latte for herself. Winding her way back through the round tables, she sat back down in her seat, and Freen gave her a warm smile.
"You look lovely by the way," Freen said, causing Becca's cheeks to turn pink. "I didn't get a chance to say."
"Oh, um, thank you," Becca said, her stomach fluttering as a ball of warmth pooled in her stomach, "so do you. I like your glasses."
Eyebrows rising slightly, Freen self-consciously reached up to touch the plastic frames, a smile flitting across her face as she straightened up, looking almost pleased.
"Yeah? I usually have to wear contacts because of my work."
"Me too," Becca said with a wry smile, "my glasses were the first to go. Then the blonde."
"Blonde?" Freen exclaimed, a look of intrigue in her blue eyes as she leant closer, "hm, I can't quite envision it. Brunette seems to suit you so well. It gives you an air of mystery."
"Mystery?" Becca snorted, giving her a coy look, "I've always thought I was rather an open book. With my music at least."
Laughing, Freen leant back in her seat and gave her an appraising look.
"Oh, no doubt about it. You definitely wear your heart on your sleJen with your lyrics. But I wonder how much of them are the truth."
Shrugging noncommittally, Becca gave her a furtive glance, feeling somewhat exposed under Freen's searching gaze.
She so rarely revealed the truth behind her songs or made them obviously misleading so that people didn't look in the right direction, and it hit a little too close to home that Becca's honesty in her words wasn't always entirely true.
She'd built her career off of writing songs about other people's relationships, and some of her own that wasn't necessarily romantic, but the fact of the matter was that she didn't have much in the way of her own experiences with love.
Her most recent hurtful relationship with Addie - if it could even be called a relationship, as it had been nothing more than a few dates and Becca being strung along like a lovesick schoolgirl - was the first time she'd ever had any firsthand experience with romance.
Over the past few months, she'd come to have a rather cynical opinion of love, writing heartbroken songs as she pieced herself back together and got over the manipulative mind games Addie had played with her.
It had left her with a wary opinion of love, and the idea that relationships were built to fall apart and end. And every in a good way, or so it seemed.
But sitting in front of Freen, feeling anxious butterflies riot around in her stomach as she followed the wood grain pattern on the scarred tabletop, Becca found herself wondering if perhaps she'd been too rash in her thoughts.
She wouldn't call what she had with Addie love, which left her with little else to base her opinions on. Freen was completely right in her curiosity about Becca's lyrics.
Removing her hands from the tabletop, Becca hid them beneath the table and splayed her fingers on her thighs, biting her lip as she met Freen's curios gaze. Letting out a shaky laugh, Becca seemed to deflate slightly and ran a hand through her haywire curls.
"You know... people always seem to take them quite literally. I've supposedly dated every boy I've interacted with. And I wouldn't say that my songs are dishonest - they're all quite truthful - but if I'm being honest... none of them are about my relationships."
"Oh well now that's interesting," Freen said, leaning closer as she smiled slightly.
The barista brought over their coffees and set them down in front of them, both women murmuring their thanks, and Becca watched as Freen stirred in sugar and took a tentative sip.
Looking down at her own latte, Becca stared at the pattern in the foam, feeling a little nervous under Freen's interested stare.
"Are you a romantic then, Becca?"
Looking back up, Becca shrugging indifferently, picking up her spoon and scooping up some foam.
"I suppose. Isn't everyone? Every singer sings about love in some regard. Me, Whitney Houston, Dolly Parton, Frank Sinatra, James Taylor."
"You make a fair point. Although not all of them are particularly romantic. I Was Only Telling A Lie could hardly be called a love song."
"Oh, a Taylor fan?"
Raising her eyebrows, Freen gave her a reproving look.
"You sound surprised. Do I not strike you as the type?"
"No, I just- well, he's not quite so popular with our generation, is he?"
"I'll have you know, I have all of his albums on vinyl," Freen triumphantly replied.
Lips curling up into a smile, Becca rested her cheek in her hand as she propped her elbow up on the table, eating the foam off her spoon. Setting it back down on the saucer with a clatter, she arched an eyebrow.
"So do I."
"All of them?"
"All of them."
"Hm. I've never met anyone who had all of his records."
Letting out a light laugh, Becca raised her coffee cup halfway to her lips.
"Well, I do."
"Interesting."
"How so?"
Pausing, Freen shrugged slightly, pressing her lips together as she tried to hide a smile.
"I don't know. I just- well, someone I dated once told me that he didn't "get" why I liked his songs so much. I guess it's just nice to know that I'll never have to justify that to you."
She spoke as if the thought of them seeing each other again was without argument, and Becca felt a warmth spread through her as she took a sip of coffee.
It was so easy to feel charmed by Freen that she found herself growing increasingly flustered and shy, even as they traded stories back and forth. Before long their cups were empty, and before Becca's hopes could be snuffed out, Freen suggested another cup, and Becca quickly offered to get them again, feeling a little bolder as she ordered a slice of coffee cake and a slice of lemon tart, reasonably assuming she had her bases covered.
Delighted by the cakes, Freen revealed that she had a bit of a sweet tooth, and they shared bites of them both, the tart lemony flavour complementing the richness of the coffee.
Becca would've been content to stay there forever, sharing cakes over coffee as she hung onto Freen's every word, but before long it became apparent that time had slipped by rather quickly.
With inevitability, they finally had to leave, and Becca found herself wanting to linger inside the cafe a little while longer as she watched Freen put on her coat, wanting to prolong the moment for as long as possible.
Sooner than she would've liked, although the sun had gone right past its midpoint and was following its trajectory behind the taller city buildings, Becca found herself outside on the sidewalk, unsure of what to say or do next.
Oblivious to her inner turmoil, Freen flattened the collar of her denim Henget and fished her keys out of her pocket, stepping towards the sleek black car parked out the front.
She sighed as she took in the parking ticket stuck under the windscreen wipers and stepped forward to free it, before giving Becca a helpless shrug and shoving the ticket into her bag.
"I swear I get at least one a week. You'd think I'd have learnt by now to throw in a few extra quarters. Did you drive yourself?" Freen asked, glancing around as if looking for Becca's car, although she'd have no idea what it was anyway.
Giving her a sheepish smile, feeling a little bit silly for being so paranoid now, Becca nodded, "I, um, I parked down the block. Just in case."
Throwing her head back as she laughed, Freen's eyes crinkled at the corners as she closed them, a look of pure hilarity on her face before she looked down at Becca.
It made her stomach twist slightly, a rush of warmth filling her as Freen laughed in such a childish manner as if she'd said the funniest thing.
Becca couldn't even bring herself to care as a passerby cast them a look of irritation at the loud disturbance of Freen's rich laughter.
"What, you don't want to be seen with me?"
Opening her mouth to protest, Becca felt her face flush with embarrassment, and Freen quickly reached for her hand, her fingers warm to the touch and making Becca's stomach flip at the casual contact.
"I'm joking, Becca. Come on, I'll walk you to your car."
Nodding, Becca ducked her head down, sunglasses hiding her face as she matched Freen's pace, passing by boutiques and bookstores, little cafes and thrift stores, and felt herself growing nervous as time quickly slipped away from her.
She'd been too quiet over their brunch, feeling flustered as she tried to make a good impression, now that they weren't in the confines of a party, and she worried that Freen wouldn't want to see her again.
Becca didn't have much experience with this kind of thing, and Addie had left her hurt and wary of love. Her idea of it was misconstrued now, having spent months thinking that nothing good would come of it, yet she'd felt that spark with Freen, and now she was worried that it would end all too quickly.
Before they'd even had a chance to see if there was something there.
All she knew was that she'd been captivated by Freen that first night, and it went deeper than her looks. As quiet as she'd been over their coffee, Becca had enjoyed getting to know Freen.
She felt like she owed her an explanation for being so aloof though, and as she opened her mouth to tell her about Addie, Freen started to talk.
"So do you live here?"
"L.A.?" Becca asked, eyebrows rising slightly, before her expression softened into a smile, "no, I just flew in for the Grammys. I spend most of my time in National City, but I live in London. Not that I get to spend much time there though; I just finished touring not too long ago."
"Did you get to go back for the holidays?" Freen asked, looking down at Becca with her kind eyes.
"Mhm. My dad's still there but my mum's with me most of the time, so we thought it'd be nice to go home and spend Christmas there. My brother came back too. It was... nice."
"I've always loved Christmas," Freen said with a touch of fondness in her voice, "I'm Jewish, but I wasn't adopted by a Jewish family, so I kind of grew up celebrating all holidays. It was good though, you know, having that kind of family feeling again for the holidays. They tried for the Jewish holidays, and God, their latkes were awful, so I tried for theirs too. We still watch Home Alone every year."
Becca let out a quiet laugh of surprise, trying to bite back a smile as she glanced up at Freen. The blonde woman was staring straight ahead, squinting slightly against the sun, and quickly looked down at Becca, catching her staring.
The serious look quickly softened and she tilted her head to the side, narrowing her eyes as she smiled. "What?"
Hesitating for a moment, Becca bit her bottom lip and shook her head. "Nothing."
"Am I babbling too much?" Freen asked, giving her a sheepish look, two spots of colour appearing on her cheeks, "sorry, I--"
"You're not babbling," Becca gently assured her, reaching out to touch her hand, just for a brief moment. "I just... I don't quite know what to say."
Laughing, Freen ducked her head down, "neither do I. Sometimes I talk too much when I'm nervous."
Arching an eyebrow, Becca gave her a curious look, "and what about the other night?"
"It was too loud at the party," Freen shrugged, "thank God, or I would've made a complete idiot out of myself."
"Why, are you trying to impress me?" Becca lightly teased her, feeling a little more at ease now that she knew that Freen was still a little nervous around her too. It made her feel like she wasn't being silly to be so timid.
Cheeks turning red, Freen scratched the back of her neck and let out a tense laugh, "well I- I mean... I wouldn't say I'm not. I'm just... not very good at... this."
She waved a hand between the two of them, and Becca cocked her head to the side.
"Talking to someone?"
Rolling her eyes, Freen gave her an exasperated smile.
"The beginning of things. I'm not very good at small talk, but it's not very polite to start asking the hard questions when you don't know someone very well. It tends to scare people off. That and the job. Sometimes I get too... invested. I have a bad habit of reading into things too much and rush in too quickly."
Becca was silent as they walked the rest of the way to her car, her heart hammering in her chest as she was filled with hope.
Was Freen saying that she liked Becca? Did she feel that same spark? Was she trying to figure out whether Becca felt the same way too?
There could've been a misunderstanding where the other had confused their coffee date as the two of them starting a friendship, finding someone in the industry that they could trust and be themselves with, with no worries about whether they were being used for money or fame.
If that was the case, Becca would happily be her friend, but she'd connected with her so easily that she would be lying if she said that she wasn't already enamoured by Freen.
As they neared the black Range Rover, the lights flashing as Becca unlocked it, she set her shoulders and lifted her chin slightly, standing near the front of the bonnet as she looked up at Freen.
The blonde was a few inches taller than her without heels and standing quite close, and Becca had to take a moment to collect herself, before giving her a nervous smile.
Even still, Freen beat her to it, looking just as nervous.
"Would you- would you maybe... want to go out again?" Freen asked, a hopeful glint in her blue eyes.
"I'm going back to National City on Friday," Becca told her with a grim smile.
Eyebrows rising slightly, Freen gave her a bright smile, her tone delighted as she replied, "I live there. I know it's got a big music scene, but there's a lot of jobs for well- established actors. Not like L.A., with all the hopeful souls. Maybe I could see you again. If you're not too busy."
Stomach twisting itself in a way that was good, Becca bit her lip as she looked up at Freen, fiddling nervously with her fingers.
"Yeah, sure. I'd love to. I'm actually in the middle of trying to buy an apartment there, so I'm not sure--"
Waving aside her concerns, Freen reached out and touched her arm, her fingers warm through the thin knit of Becca's jumper. With a relieved smile, she cut Becca off mid-worrying.
"There's no rush. Let me know when you're free and we'll go from there."
"Okay," Becca murmured, a warm feeling in her chest as she met Freen's kind eyes.
"Thanks for the coffee," Freen said, rounding the bonnet of the car and opening the car door for Becca in a gallant gesture. "The next one's on me."
Climbing into the cool interior, she quietly laughed, her cheeks dimpling, and nodded. "I'll see you soon."
"Drive safe."
Freen gently shut the door and rounded the car, lingering on the sidewalk for a moment as Becca turned the car on. She waved as she pulled out into traffic, and Freen waved back, before taking a few slow steps backwards as she watched Becca drive off down the street.
The last glimpse Becca got of her was her blonde ponytail swishing from side to side as she walked back the way they'd come. With her phone connected to the car, Becca turned on James Taylor and drove home in a daze as Hourglass hummed through the car's speakers.
In hindsight, she couldn't remember the drive home. Past block after block, through busy streets and backed-up traffic on the highway, she made her way back towards The Beverly Hills Hotel without any awareness of her surroundings, her mind utterly consumed by rose-tinted thoughts of Freen.
She'd been shy, and Becca wanted to kick herself for being so reserved, for wasting her time with Freen.
Worrying that perhaps she'd made a bad impression, although the fact that Freen was so keen to see her again should've banished her doubts, Becca was distracted for the rest of the day.
Despite her initial weariness with National City, her resigned agreement to move there out of necessity, Becca suddenly couldn't wait to go back there. The sunny city with its palm trees and muggy air didn't seem quite as depressing as she'd grown to find it over the past few years.
In fact, over the following few years, Becca found herself coming to love the city, or rather, what it brought her.
A close proximity to Freen, an anonymity that Hollywood didn't quite bring, although she had her fair share of paparazzi and invasions of privacy while there, and it was with bitter anger and heartbreak that Becca eventually moved away from the city.
She still held fond memories for it, and still had her home there for the frequent visits that were necessary for her career, but it had been years now since she'd moved away from there.
Over the years, so many things had changed, but the beginning of things with Freen had been so magical. It had felt like she was living in one of the fairytales she'd written about so hopefully in the earlier years of her career.
Consumed with thoughts of her, messaging back and forth non-stop with witty comments and subtle flirting, and anxiously awaiting the moment that she'd see her again, Becca was trapped by her secrecy.
She'd been trapped for years. Not by everyone, as she'd slowly come out to those closest to her, but it wasn't until this moment, or rather until the moment her interview aired, that she would truly be free from the secrets that had weighed down on her so heavily.
Central to most of those secrets was the fact that she had been in love with one woman for nearly nine years, but it was a heavily tangled net, with small and large knots alike, and as she slowly undid each one, with each step in her story, with each small snippet of information she'd locked away inside her, things started to straighten out.
The complicated tangled mass that had weighed down on her for so long was slowly starting to come undone at the edges.
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Disclaimer: Story is not mine, I only adapted it to FreenBecky Fanfic because I love this piece and I love FB. I want to see them portray the characters in this story.