Chapter Text
———
Lying, to some extent, is necessary for her line of work.
It’s an uncomfortable truth. How ironic.
Whether lying by omission or deception, Becky has had to lie several times to herself, her family, her fans, her interviewers. She swallows each one with a large helping of guilt and regret. She can feel the bundle of bitterness growing in the pit of her stomach each passing day.
Every time a host asks a provocative question meant to stir things up, the urge to tell the truth flares up. When her costars tease their relationship and call Freen her girlfriend, it stings. The relentless fire of fans shipping “FreenBecky” unabashedly sears the cracks of her weary heart.
How would they all act if they knew Becky was attracted to women and men? She’s known since she was a very young girl. At this point, she cares very little about the consequences.
She wants to talk about it. To shout it from the rooftops. She's pretty sure Richie and her parents would be supportive. She knows that Freen would be.
Lovely, precious, kind Freen. A perfect gentlewoman. She wouldn’t be fazed by this information in the slightest. A tiny part of Becky wonders if Freen already knows, or suspects, her queerness. That would certainly make the coming out easier.
Although homosexuality was decriminalized in Thailand over 50 years ago and is no longer seen as a mental illness or disorder, and public opinion is favorable, there is an air of unease when LGBTQ topics are brought up at work. It’s strange to her how the company is filming an explicitly sapphic show and yet are afraid to confirm or deny the sexuality of their leading ladies.
They remain at the cusp of explicit queerness, teetering on the edge. It’s frustrating and a little cruel, she thinks. But then, she’s only an actor playing a role. Her authority extends to Mon, and little else.
But off the set, in her personal life…she has all the control. It’s a battle to retain this control some days, what with her growing fame, but she fights tooth and nail. She knows what she deserves, and she won’t take any less.
Those who know Becky are aware of her impatience. Freen, most of all. It amuses the older woman to no end when they are waiting for lifts to open or planes to board. She tries not to let her impatience show, but it’s a battle, certainly. She’s surprised and proud that she lasted this long without telling someone her secret. But she really can’t keep it to herself any longer.
So one night, as they sit next to each other in Becky’s bed, she tells her.
“I’m bisexual. I like both men and women.”
Silence. Then, a slow smile spreads across her best friend’s face. It’s beautiful and bewitching, like all the other times.
Blood rushes in her ears as she waits for a response. Her shoulders collapse with relief when she hears, “That makes two of us.”
Honesty is salvation and a salve.
———