Dive into the captivating world of “Freen and Becky’s Unspoken Love: A Gap the Series Fanfiction” as we explore the uncharted territory of Freen and Becky’s relationship beyond the confines of the hit TV show, “Gap the Series.” In this enthralling Freen and Becky fanfiction, you’ll witness the secret romance that blossoms between these two dynamic characters in their vibrant campus life. Uncover the hidden depths of Freen and Becky’s relationship as they navigate their newfound emotions, face challenges together, and strive to balance their academics and personal lives. Don’t miss this chance to embark on a journey filled with passion, friendship, and unforgettable moments that will leave you wanting more of Freen and Becky’s heartwarming love story.
The moment Nam’s message came in, Freen had just finished trimming the wick of the last aromatherapy candle. She looked at the ten neatly arranged candles on the table and picked up the phone, her lips curling upwards.
“Hello? P’Nam.” Not only her lips but also her tone was rising.
Even though making candles was tiring and her back ached, the sense of accomplishment when the finished product came out always made her happy. Nam’s voice came through the phone, “Freen! Look at the time!”
“Uh…” Freen glanced guiltily at her wristwatch, “6:30 in the evening.”
Nam was frustrated, “Do you remember that I asked you to watch the soccer match with the handsome guys at school? If we’re late, we won’t get good seats! Freen!”
Nam had graduated two years ago, but she had returned to school several times just to see good-looking guys.
“I know, I know.” Freen quickly picked up a box already wrapped on the table, “I have to go back to school anyway to deliver candles to a junior.”
“Then hurry up.”
After hanging up, Freen put the box into a paper bag with her drawings on it. There was a beautiful tulip and a simple smiley face, along with her brand logo—Light Night.
Yes, that’s right. This was her handmade aromatherapy candle brand. But from buying materials to packaging, she did it all by herself. She was the boss and the only employee.
To make candles more easily, she rented an apartment off-campus.
The apartment wasn’t far from the school, about a ten-minute drive. She quickly changed her shoes, grabbed her things, and left.
Bangkok’s temperature didn’t change much throughout the year. Although it was November, and for many regions, it would be winter, the sun here was still quite harsh.
However, the temperature at this time was just right, and the sky was beautiful.
The road ahead was congested, with car horns blaring and motorbikes weaving in and out.
While waiting for the red light to turn green, Freen sat in the driver’s seat and took a picture of the sky, posting it on her Instagram story.
She had two accounts, one personal with not many followers, mostly friends, and the other for her candle business.
The picture of the sky was, of course, posted to her personal account, as was her habit. Sometimes she would post other content as well.
The next second, Freen received another message from Nam on Line: [I’m almost at the school! Freen!]
[Stuck in traffic.]
[I’m on the road.]
[I know, I saw your story. I just wanted to ask how much sugar you want in your milk tea, I’ll bring you a cup.]
As she typed “three parts sugar” in response, Freen’s lips couldn’t help but twitch, and a voice echoed in her mind: “I’d rather drink plain water than have three parts sugar in my milk tea.”
Freen rubbed her brow, warning herself not to remember so clearly.
After replying to Nam’s message, Freen switched back to Instagram, intending to check if there were any order messages on her brand’s account, but in the end, she clicked on the “Viewed” section.
In addition to Nam and other friends, there was one unexpected account: becccca.
This was the owner of the voice that had just come to her mind.
The moment she saw that account, Freen’s heartbeat stuttered for half a beat, only to be brought back to reality by a honk outside her car window. Her eyelashes quivered slightly.
They had agreed not to enter each other’s private space.
Freen steadied her breathing, trying hard to dispel distracting thoughts, but her fingertips betrayed her thoughts as she lightly tapped the steering wheel, her beautiful eyebrows furrowing slightly.
If Nam were there, she would have thought Freen was worried about an order, never suspecting it was because of feelings.
Or because of a freshman four years younger than her.
Fortunately, the rest of the way was smooth, and Freen found a parking spot before meeting Nam at the school’s main entrance.
Nam was dressed very sexy, with bright makeup. As she handed Freen the milk tea, she said with a smile, “Ah! You look so pretty, our Freen.”
“P’Nam, you’ve been saying that since the first day we met,” Freen said, bending her eyes with laughter, revealing her cute bunny teeth.
“Because it’s true! Otherwise, why do you think you win the school’s beauty contest every year?” Nam’s eye makeup was very captivating. “However, I’m sorry, but tonight my focus will be on guys with eight-pack abs, six-pack is also fine, but not less.”
The two didn’t linger at the entrance, and entered Lansi University. As she was about to graduate, Freen felt somewhat reluctant, which was one of the reasons she agreed to come to the school with Nam. After all, every visit would be one less, and once she graduated, it wouldn’t be as easy to return.
Tonight was a football match between the Law and Media schools, not a friendly match, but the championship match after half a month of competition. They were still late, and the remaining seats in the gym were not great.
Freen didn’t mind, but Nam was speechless: “How are these people more enthusiastic than me?”
“Well, you’ve graduated and still come back. You’re more dedicated than them,” Freen joked, pointing to a slightly better spot, “Let’s sit there, the view should be better.”
“Right, not being enthusiastic about seeing handsome guys is a problem,” Nam remarked.
Freen raised her eyebrows, and before she could say anything, Nam looked at her: “Your mindset is a big problem.”
Freen replied, “Internet fees are expensive, and pork prices are rising.”
“Oh, you don’t have time,” Nam said as they sat down, giving Freen a glance and sighing, “But you’re not only making candles and selling clothes, but also doing other part-time jobs. It’s too tiring, Freen. You need to give yourself some time to rest, okay?”
“I’ll try,” Freen responded with her signature smile.
The surrounding area was noisy, and the match hadn’t started yet. Freen took a sip of her milk tea before checking her phone, habitually switching back to her brand’s account to see if there were any order messages. There was one. She eagerly replied to the message, waiting for a response.
A while later, the teams from both schools arrived on the field, and the crowd screamed. Freen symbolically shouted along with Nam, as if blending into the atmosphere.
But after those two shouts, she calmed down again. For some inexplicable reason, she opened her viewed IG stories again, and those few letters were still at the front. Fearing that Nam would notice something, she glanced at it and then hit the back button.
The whistle blew, and the match began. Freen glanced at it for a few seconds, still uninterested. She didn’t like sports; she preferred spending time on art-related activities like drawing and visiting exhibitions.
However, the gym was much quieter now, and the cheering crowd with school flags was not on their side, which was one of the advantages of their seats. Nam wasn’t very focused on the game either. She turned her head and looked at Freen: “When are you going to give the scented candles to your junior?”
“Later.”
Freen cleared her throat: “I’m waiting for her to contact me.”
“Who is it?” Nam asked casually.
“You don’t know her.”
“Which school is she from?” Nam was really bored, “I might know her.”
“Law school.” Freen initially wanted to lie, but then felt there was no need.
Nam blinked, “Then I really don’t know her.” Her tone suddenly changed, “But I do know a freshman from the Law School, named Becky Rebecca Armstrong. She’s a British-Thai mixed-blood, very popular, beautiful, and a great student. She studies both law and criminal psychology, so scary!”
“No, it’s not her.”
“Huh?”
“It’s Becky Rebecca Patricia Armstrong.”
Nam was somewhat surprised, “You remember such a long name?”
She realized something, “Wait, how do you remember it so clearly?”
“You said it yourself; she’s famous,” Freen replied, her face unchanged.
“Oh, right.” Nam continued, “There’s a women’s football match later, and I heard she’s an amazing player, even a forward. I want to watch that.”
“I see.”
“But I might not have time. I’ll be busier later, and you know, next month is Christmas, so there’ll be more orders.”
“Alright, alright. I might not have time either; I also have a job.”
Just as she finished speaking, Freen’s phone vibrated twice. She inexplicably felt a lump in her throat and heard her heartbeat, especially clear in the not-so-quiet venue.
Her fingertips hovered over the screen for a moment before finally unlocking the phone and opening Line. There was a new message at the top: [Waiting for you.] The note was an otter emoji, without a name, and no one could tell who it was.
The simple four words were particularly eye-catching, even burning Freen’s palm through the screen. She glanced at Nam, saw that her attention was on the game, and then dimmed the screen to reply: [Give me five minutes.]
“P’Nam,” Freen called out, “I’m going to give her the scented candles.”
“Okay.”
“When will you be back?”
“I’m not sure; she has some questions about her studies to ask me,” Freen felt a bit guilty.
“Go ahead, if you’re not back after the game, I’ll go home first.”
“Alright.”
Freen arrived outside the gym. The evening glow had disappeared from the horizon, and the night quietly approached, but the streetlights around the sports field were all on. The football match attracted a lot of attention, so there were fewer people outside the gym than usual.
Freen, carrying a bag, saw the person standing about ten meters away. It was the freshman from the Law School she had talked about with Nam. Becky saw her too and raised her phone. Freen pursed her lips.
Neither of them approached each other, but they both walked in the same direction, maintaining the original distance. Becky was in front, and Freen was behind. The two were on the phone, their steps in sync.
Freen looked at Becky’s back and, before she could speak, heard Becky laugh brightly, “I already have several scented candles you made in my apartment.”
“Can you come up with a different excuse next time?”
Becky paused, elongating her voice, “Freen, my senior.”
Read More：Chapter 2 👈 Chapter 3 👈
Author：一只花夹子
Original article link (Chinese website)：https://www.jjwxc.net/oneauthor.php?authorid=2083392
