Fever and Fractures

Film slumped into the passenger seat of the car as Kiera drove them back to their hotel. The shoot had wrapped up at nearly 3 a.m., and exhaustion clung to her like a second skin. But it wasn't just the long hours that wore her down—it was the nagging frustration of not being able to go to Namtan's office as planned.

She had been so close. So ready. Yet fate, as always, had other ideas.

By the time Film got to bed, the sun was already starting to rise. Still, determination fueled her dreams—she would go see Namtan today, no matter what.

Film woke up in the late afternoon, sunlight streaming weakly through the thick curtains. She blinked groggily, but as soon as her mind cleared, she remembered her mission: find Namtan. Without wasting another moment, she freshened up, dressed quickly, and called her driver.

Arriving at the building—a sleek, modern structure, though not particularly tall—Film walked straight to the elevator, clutching the business card Claire had given her. It read Faye City, the name of the office she was headed to. She kept her outfit simple, opting for a white long-sleeved shirt, jeans, and white sneakers. At Kiera's insistence, she also wore a cap and sunglasses to avoid drawing attention, allowing her to focus on her goal without distractions.

When the elevator chimed and the doors slid open to her designated floor, she stepped out and approached the reception desk. The receptionist greeted her politely at first, but as Film came closer, recognition flickered across her face. Her eyes widened in shock, clearly surprised to see the famous actress standing before her.

Film offered a polite smile and asked, "Hi, is Namtan in today?"

To her disappointment, the receptionist shook her head apologetically. "I'm sorry, but Ms. Namtan hasn't come in today," she said. "Would you like to speak with our other boss instead?"

Film hesitated for a moment, not expecting anyone else, but before she could ask who it was, the receptionist added, "Claire is available, if you'd like to meet with her."

Caught off guard, Film simply nodded. The receptionist wasted no time, quickly dialing Claire's number. A moment later, she hung up and smiled. "She's on her way out to meet you now."

Film took a deep breath, adjusting her cap nervously as she waited. Her fingers drummed softly against her side, betraying the unease she felt. She had never been good at waiting, especially when the stakes were high like this.

"Oh, hey," Claire said, her voice carrying a hint of surprise as her lips curved into a small, admiring smile. "You're here for Namtan?"

"Yes," Film replied, her gaze flickered briefly to the receptionist and the name tag on her blouse before she added, "but I heard from Raya that she wasn't here?"

Claire's smile wavered, giving way to a more somber expression. She nodded, her eyes reflecting quiet sorrow.

"Yeah, she's not here. I'm sorry. She's at our apartment—she's really sick."

Her gaze softened with concern as she continued, "I think she waited for you yesterday. I told her you hadn't confirmed you were coming, but she still wouldn't leave until late in the evening... and even then, she wasn't feeling great. By the time she got back last night, she was burning up with fever. I convinced her to stay home today."

Film's stomach twisted with guilt. She waited for me? Her chest tightened, and she couldn't help but wonder if things could have turned out differently if she hadn't waited so long to show up.

"Is she alone now?" Film asked, her voice quieter, barely above a whisper, as if the weight of the question carried too much to bear.

Claire nodded, her expression darkening with worry. "Yeah. I wanted to stay with her, but I couldn't leave the office unattended. I've been checking in on her when I can, but... she's too stubborn to ask for help."

A long, heavy silence stretched between them, the concern between them palpable. Film's thoughts raced, desperate to act, to do something to make sure Namtan wasn't suffering alone.

After a brief pause, Film's voice was quiet but urgent, "Can you tell me where she lives?"

Claire hesitated. She wasn't sure of the nature of the relationship between Film and Namtan, but the concern in Film's eyes was undeniable. It tugged at her heart. Her instinct to help Namtan—and Film—overcame her lingering hesitation. With a soft sigh, she relented. "Yeah. We actually share an apartment. I'll give you the address and the door code, but..." She paused, her eyes locking with Film's. "Please—take care of her. She's really bad at admitting when she needs help."

"I will," Film promised, her voice steady with determination, though her heart hammered with the weight of the responsibility she suddenly carried.

Claire handed Film a slip of paper with the details scribbled down. "Thanks, Film," she said, a hint of relief in her voice, as though trusting Film was the best thing she could do for Namtan right now.

Film took the paper and nodded, her resolve hardening. As she turned to leave, her thoughts were already with Namtan, with the quiet urgency to make sure she wasn't alone in her pain.

---

When Film arrived at the apartment, she paused just outside the door, her hand hovering over the doorknob. For a long moment, she stood frozen, unsure whether to knock or simply enter with the code Claire had given her. The stillness of the hallway felt suffocating. She could almost hear her heart pounding in her ears. After what felt like an eternity, she lifted her hand to knock—only to be met with silence. No answer.

Swallowing her nerves, she keyed in the code Claire had written down. The lock clicked open, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. With a deep breath, she gently pushed the door open, stepping inside.

The apartment was modest but undeniably charming—an effortless blend of warmth and practicality. Despite being in the heart of New York, where space was always a luxury, it felt like a home. The living area opened up to a small, yet inviting kitchen, with a hallway leading to what she could only assume were the bedrooms.

Her feet carried her silently down the hallway, each step heavier than the last. She stopped in front of a door, her heart twisting in her chest as she guessed it was Namtan's room. She knocked softly, but there was no response. A tremor ran through her as she reached for the handle and pushed it open, just enough to peer inside.

And then, after months of yearning, of aching for this moment, Film finally saw her again.

Namtan lay curled up on the bed, her once vibrant form now frail and pale. The sickness that clung to her was visible in every drawn feature, every weary line on her face. A fine sheen of sweat clung to her forehead, her breathing shallow and labored, like a constant struggle for air. The heat of her fever radiated off her, the blanket she was wrapped in barely enough to stave off the cold that wracked her body.

Film stood at the foot of the bed, her throat tight as she took in the sight of Namtan—her Namtan—looking so small, so vulnerable. The confident, fiery woman she once knew now seemed like a distant memory. The guilt hit her like a physical blow. Why hadn't she reached out sooner? Why had she let the distance between them grow so wide? Every moment she had hesitated, every second she had wasted, was now painfully apparent in the face of Namtan's suffering.

Her heart hammered in her chest, a mix of fear and longing flooding her. She stepped closer, her feet barely making a sound on the floor, as if afraid the very air would shatter the fragile stillness of the room. "Namtan," she whispered, her voice trembling as the name escaped her lips.

The words carried more weight now, more urgency, more heartbreak than they ever had before. But there was no response. Namtan's eyes remained closed, her body trembling beneath the blanket, her fever raging uncontrollably.

Film stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do, unsure if she had the right to do anything at all. She wanted to reach out, to touch her, to comfort her. But the fear of making things worse—of not being the person Namtan needed—held her back. So many mistakes had already been made. Would she add another?

But then, as she stood there, the silence between them stretching on, the decision became clear. She couldn't just stand there and do nothing. She couldn't let her suffer alone.

"Claire...?" Namtan mumbled weakly, her voice a soft rasp, barely audible. Her eyes fluttered beneath their lids, clearly unfocused, lost in a haze of feverish delirium. She didn't recognize Film, not in this state.

"It's me," Film murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper. She lowered herself onto the bed beside Namtan, the heat radiating from her body nearly overwhelming. With trembling hands, she reached out, pressing a cool palm against Namtan's forehead.

"You're burning up."

Namtan didn't respond. Her half-lidded eyes fluttered, slipping in and out of consciousness. Every shallow breath, every tremor that wracked her fragile frame made Film's heart ache.

Without hesitation, she hurried to the bathroom, returning moments later with a bowl of water and a clean cloth. She dipped the cloth into the cool water and pressed it gently against Namtan's fevered skin, moving with quiet precision. The rhythmic strokes of the damp cloth against her forehead were the only sounds in the room.

Setting the cloth aside for a moment, Film reached for the medicine on the nightstand. She carefully measured the dose, then slipped an arm around Namtan's shoulders, easing her up just enough to bring the medicine to her lips.

"Come on, just a little," she urged softly.

Namtan barely stirred, but with gentle persistence, Film coaxed her to take a sip. She let out a slow breath as Namtan swallowed, relief flickering through her chest. Brushing damp strands of hair from her face, Film resumed her quiet care, determined to stay by her side through the night.

As she tended to her, the guilt twisted deeper, a sharp ache that refused to be quieted. Was this enough? Would it ever be enough?

"Claire... thank you," Namtan murmured, her voice barely a breath. "You always take care of me..."

The words sliced through Film, and she felt a lump form in her throat. She didn't correct her. She couldn't. Instead, she continued to care for her, to hope that somehow, in this moment, she could make up for all the time she hadn't been there.

---

When Namtan woke up, the soft rays of sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. She felt notably better—her fever had broken, and the throbbing headache that had consumed her the night before was gone. But there was something else, something lingering, an odd sense that something had shifted in a way she couldn't quite place.

Slowly, she pushed herself up, her body still weak but much more manageable than it had been. She paused for a moment, her thoughts clouded by the haze of fever and confusion. Had Film really been here? Was that just a fever dream? No... that couldn't be.

Shaking her head as if to clear the disorienting thoughts, she stood up and headed to the bathroom, hoping the cool water of a shower would help ground her. The sensation of the water against her skin helped her focus, but the nagging feeling—that something was out of place—refused to let go.

When she finally emerged from the bathroom, still wrapped in the quiet remnants of her foggy thoughts, she was startled to find Claire already in the small kitchen, busy at the counter, preparing coffee. The rich aroma filled the air, comforting in its normalcy.

"Morning," Claire greeted brightly, glancing over her shoulder. "You look better."

"Morning," Namtan replied cautiously, her eyes scanning the room. Then, she asked, the words coming out before she could fully think them through: "Wait... were you here all day yesterday?"

Claire let out a short laugh. "Nope. Film was." She turned slightly to meet Namtan's gaze. "She dropped by the office yesterday but found out you weren't there because you were sick, and she insisted on coming here to check on you. When I got back late, she was already gone, but she left a note saying you shouldn't go in today."

Namtan's heart skipped a beat. So it wasn't a dream...

"She... she was really here?" Her voice dropped to a barely audible whisper as the reality of the situation sank in.

"Yeah," Claire said, raising an eyebrow, her expression a mix of curiosity and mild amusement. "She seemed pretty worried about you. Honestly, I wasn't sure what to make of it. Are you two...?" She trailed off, her eyes searching Namtan's face for some kind of answer.

"No," Namtan said quickly, too quickly. Her words felt rushed, defensive. "It's complicated."

Claire didn't push further. She knew Namtan well enough to recognize when she wasn't ready to talk about something. "Well, anyway," she said, finishing up with the coffee and stirring it slowly. "She said she might drop by again later. And, seriously, boss—you shouldn't go to the office today. You're still recovering."

"I can't," Namtan replied firmly, her voice unwavering. "I already missed work yesterday, and I have so much to catch up on. My time here is limited, and I can't afford to take any more days off." There was a quiet intensity to her words, a determination that made it clear she wouldn't be swayed.

Claire sighed, her shoulders sagging a little in resignation. She knew once Namtan set her mind to something, there was no changing it. "Fine," she said reluctantly. "But at least let me text Film and let her know you're going in. She'll probably want to check on you."

Namtan blinked in surprise, her voice caught in her throat. "You have her number?"

Claire chuckled lightly, her tone playful. "Yes, can you believe it? I'm now Film's text mate. Film, the Hollywood actress," she said, her face lighting up with a dreamy smile as she finished typing the message.

As Claire sent the text, she couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in Namtan's posture. The way her jaw was set, the tension in her shoulders—it was clear that something deeper was going on between Namtan and Film, something Namtan hadn't fully shared yet. Claire's instincts told her that the truth was there, just beneath the surface, but she wasn't going to push. She knew Namtan well enough to understand that when the time was right, her friend would open up in her own way.

For now, Claire simply offered her quiet support, trusting that Namtan would come to her in her own time, when she was ready. And when that happened, Claire would be there, no matter what.

---

Film had just stepped in of her penthouse, a takeaway coffee in one hand and her phone in the other, when a notification popped up. It was a message from Claire.

Claire: Hey, just a heads-up. Namtan insisted on going to the office today. I tried to stop her, but you know how stubborn she is. She looks better, but she's still a little weak. Just thought you might want to know.

Film paused mid-sip, lowering the cup slowly. She read the message twice, the words sinking in. Namtan was already back at work despite being sick. Typical Namtan—always putting responsibilities before herself.

A mixture of emotions stirred within her: concern, guilt, and something she couldn't quite name but felt deeply. Without overthinking it, she typed back a quick response.

Film: Thanks for letting me know. I'll head over soon.

As soon as she hit send, she felt a nervous flutter in her chest. Calm down, she told herself. You're just checking on her. Nothing more. But deep down, she knew it was more than that.

Back at the office, Claire casually leaned against Namtan's desk, watching her friend work with laser focus. The silence stretched on for a few moments before Claire couldn't resist any longer.

"So... are you going to text her?" Claire asked, trying to sound casual, but there was no hiding the curiosity in her voice.

"Text who?" Namtan replied, her eyes never leaving the screen as her fingers flew across the keyboard.

"Film, obviously," Claire said with a playful roll of her eyes. "She took care of you yesterday. The least you can do is thank her."

Namtan's fingers paused mid-type, and she shot a quick look at Claire. The hesitation was clear in her expression. "I don't have her number."

Claire grinned mischievously, already unlocking her phone. "Lucky for you, I do." She slid her phone over, the contact information for Film already displayed on the screen. "Go on. Don't overthink it."

Namtan hesitated for a moment, staring at the phone like it might bite her. She took a deep breath and, after a few seconds, began typing, her fingers trembling just slightly.

Namtan:

Hi, Film. It's Namtan. How have you been? I'm still a little confused about how you ended up at our apartment, but I wanted to say thank you for taking care of me yesterday. Claire mentioned you stayed, and honestly, I wasn't expecting that. I really appreciate it more than I can say.

She stared at the message, her heart pounding in her chest. After a deep breath, she pressed send, immediately regretting the vulnerability she'd just exposed.

Meanwhile, as Film walked toward her room, her phone buzzed. She glanced down at the screen, seeing Namtan's name. She froze, suddenly unsure whether she was ready for this moment, even though she had been hoping for it. She opened the message, her heart fluttering at the words.

Film:

Hey. I'm good, thanks for asking. I know you're confused right now, but no need to thank me. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You really shouldn't have gone to work today. You need more rest.

Namtan's heart fluttered a little as she read the message, a small, grateful smile tugging at her lips. The warmth in Film's words was comforting in a way she hadn't expected.

Namtan:

I'm fine now. I couldn't miss another day. There's so much to do.

Film smirked as she typed back, a teasing edge in her words.

Film:

Still as stubborn as ever, huh? At least promise me you'll take it easy today.

Namtan paused before typing, a small sigh escaping her as she tried to keep her cool.

Namtan:

I'll try. Thanks again, Film.

Film smiled at her phone, then hesitated before typing her next message. There was a nervous undertone to her words that she couldn't quite shake.

Film:

Anytime. Uhm... can I drop by later? Or do you have time to talk?

Namtan's pulse skipped at the thought of seeing Film again. Her stomach fluttered with a mix of excitement and nervousness. She bit her lip, debating how to respond.

Namtan:

Talk about what, Film?

Film paused for a moment, unsure how to respond to the sudden tension hanging in the air. She took a breath and decided to keep it simple.

Film:

It's okay if you don't want to talk today. Maybe some other time, when you're feeling better?

Namtan's fingers hovered over the keys. She wasn't ready to dive into the emotions between them, but she wasn't going to let Film off that easily.

Namtan:

I didn't say I couldn't talk to you now. I just wanted to know—what are we going to talk about?

Film's frustration was obvious as she typed back quickly.

Film:

Geez, I don't know, Namtan. Maybe what happened two months ago?

Namtan's heart tightened as she read the message. She raised an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and something else flickering in her chest as she typed her reply.

Namtan:

You mean when you left me?

Film froze for a moment, a sharp pang of frustration rising up. She tapped out a response, the humor still there despite the tension.

Film:

No, Namtan. When you kidnapped me!

Namtan let out an exasperated sigh, but a smile tugged at her lips as she read the message. She couldn't help it—Film's playful irritation was contagious.

Namtan:

Fine. Come by the apartment later.

Film's eyes lit up as she read the reply, a grin spreading across her face. Finally, she might get a chance to fix things.

Film:

Okay, see you.

Namtan's fingers hovered over her phone for a moment, a thousand thoughts racing through her mind. She set the phone down with a soft breath, wondering what would come next.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hey babes,

Sorry for the late update! But hey, it's still Monday, so I think I made it just in time, right? Haha.

I just want to take a moment to thank you all for the love and support since my return. Your patience and warm welcome mean the world to me, and I couldn't be more grateful. 💕

A special shoutout to these amazing people; if I could hug you all, I totally would! Thank you for always having my back:

✨ @erio115, @JessicaJones20, @thirlwallslvr, @MarkinaElena198303, @HartilynEugenio ✨

And I'd love to dedicate this chapter to these three new commenters! Haha. I hope to see more of your thoughts. I seriously love reading them!

💖 @aw23df, @FreenyIscute, @Fuasu55 💖

Once again, thank you so much, babes! I love you all with all my heart. 💕