Shattered Perceptions

Namtan sat at the now-empty table, staring at the untouched plates of food. The silence was suffocating, pressing against her chest like an unbearable weight. She had thought that confronting Film would bring her a sense of justice—a vindication of her own feelings. Instead, all she felt was regret gnawing at the edges of her resolve.

Her hands trembled as she reached for the nearest plate, mechanically stacking it with the others. The clinking sound of porcelain breaking the quiet was oddly comforting, giving her something to focus on besides the whirlwind of emotions swirling in her mind.

She hadn't expected this. Not the anger, not the pain radiating from Film's every word, and certainly not the guilt that now clawed at her insides. The version of Film she had built in her mind—a scheming ex desperate to ruin Faye's happiness—had crumbled in the face of reality.

Namtan leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts racing.

What did i do?

The question echoed in her mind, louder with every beat of her heart.

For years, Film had watched Faye pour herself into her work, as if there was no tomorrow. It wasn't until Sonya confided in her that she learned about Faye's past—how her ex had hurt her so deeply that it made her hesitant to love again. One night, while they were out drinking at a bar, the topic came up. It was Namtan who reassured Faye, telling her that one day she'd find someone who truly deserved her, because Faye deserved happiness.

When Faye finally found Yoko, Namtan made a silent vow to herself: she would do anything to protect their happiness, even if it meant crossing lines she never thought she would. The very thought of Film—the one who had shattered Faye's heart—ruining that happiness consumed her. And so, she made the most foolish decision of her life. She kidnapped the woman she believed could destroy everything. But after hearing Film's words, Namtan knew—she had messed everything up.

She rose abruptly, unable to sit still any longer. Moving toward the window, she stared out at the darkened street. Her reflection in the glass looked unfamiliar, her features hard and strained. Was this who she had become? Someone so consumed by her need to protect others that she'd lost sight of the truth?

Film's words echoed in her mind:

"You don't know anything."

And Namtan hated how true that was. She didn't know anything about Film's struggles, her guilt, or the choices she'd made that had led to this moment. She'd assumed the worst and acted on it without a second thought.

She pressed her forehead against the cool glass, closing her eyes.

But how could I have known?

In her mind, Film had always been the villain—the one who hurt Faye, who left her broken and alone. Namtan hadn't wanted to understand Film's side of the story. It was easier to believe in black-and-white narratives, to cast Film as the antagonist in Faye's life.

The memory of the confrontation replayed in her mind, every word cutting deeper now than it had in the moment.

"You think I'm still some kind of threat? You don't even know why I let her go in the first place."

Film's voice had been raw, filled with a vulnerability Namtan hadn't expected.

She clenched her fists, anger bubbling up again—not at Film, but at herself. How could she have been so blind? So quick to judge?

The sharp ring of her phone broke Namtan's concentration, pulling her out of her spiraling thoughts. She hadn't told Film about the slight signal in the living room. She had been trying to delay the inevitable—the moment when Film would contact someone to get her out of the Philippines.

It wasn't that Namtan didn't want anyone to find out. Eventually, they would. But what Namtan really feared was Film leaving without understanding why she had done what she did. Even though it was a stupid decision—one she deeply regretted—Namtan wanted Film to know the truth, to see things from her perspective. She could handle the anger, the accusations, even the possibility of a lawsuit, but she couldn't bear for Film to leave without at least knowing her side of the story. Yet, the more she thought about it, the more the guilt gnawed at her.

Before she could gather her thoughts, her phone rang again. This time, the caller ID showed Claire, her assistant.

"Claire," Namtan answered, voice strained.

"Boss! Where are you? I've been calling you since yesterday, and CEO Faye's been looking for you too. She can't reach you. Are you okay?" Claire's voice was filled with concern, but also a trace of exhaustion.

Namtan sighed, her mind racing. She had to keep the explanation brief, avoid questions. "I'm back in the Philippines, Claire," she said, the words coming out more strained than she intended. "I'll call Faye in a bit. And, by the way, please wrap everything up there. You can head back here after. Sorry I didn't inform you sooner, it was an emergency."

"What? You're back in the Philippines? What happened? Is everything okay in the office?" Claire asked, the worry in her voice palpable.

Namtan pressed her fingers to her temples, feeling a migraine creeping in. "Everything's fine, Claire. I'll explain when you get back. Just... focus on the tasks at hand for now," she said, trying to sound reassuring, though her words felt hollow even to her own ears.

Claire hesitated but then sighed. "Okay, boss. Take care. Let me know if you need anything."

After the call ended, Namtan sat back, the weight of everything pressing down on her. She needed a moment. She stepped outside, letting the cool air hit her skin as she made her way to the balcony. It was quiet, and for a moment, the world felt far away. She dialed Sonya's number, her fingers trembling slightly as she waited for the call to connect.

"Nam?" Sonya's voice came through, laced with confusion but also familiarity.

"Sy," Namtan began, her voice steady but serious, "I need to ask you something. I'm back in the Philippines now. Can you fly back here after Faye's wedding celebration? There's something important I need to discuss with you."

Sonya paused for a moment, processing the unexpected request. Namtan could hear the concern in her voice when she responded, "Of course, Nam. I can fly back as soon as I can. But what's going on? You weren't here—I can't believe you would miss Faye's wedding."

Namtan let out a deep breath, her tone softening. "I know, and I'm truly sorry. Please, tell Faye that. I wouldn't want to call her right now, not while she's celebrating. I'll explain everything when you're here. Just... please come. It's important."

Sonya didn't press for more details, though Namtan could sense the confusion in her voice. "Alright. I'll be there soon. Take care."

After hanging up, Namtan stayed outside a little longer, staring out at the horizon, feeling the weight of her choices. She couldn't undo what had been done, but maybe, just maybe, she could still fix things.

When she finally returned inside, Namtan went to Film's room and quietly slipped a note under the door. She tried to keep her handwriting neat, but it felt like such a trivial thing compared to the mess she had made.

There's a signal outside the house, even in the living room. If you get hungry, there's food in the fridge that you can heat up whenever you want. Your luggage is in the walk-in dresser. If you need to shower, everything in the bathroom is new, so please feel free to use whatever you need.

She paused for a moment, staring at the note before leaving the room. For a brief second, she wanted to talk to her again and try to explain everything. But she knew it was better to give her space—space to think, to process. Because even if Film didn't want to hear her side, Namtan needed time to figure out how to make it right.

Namtan made her way to her room, the weight of the day pressing down on her shoulders. She pulled open the curtains leading to the balcony, letting the faint glow of moonlight spill into the space. Leaning against the cool glass of the window, she caught sight of her reflection—a ghostly image of someone she could barely recognize.

Film's words reverberated in her mind, sharp and unyielding:

"You don't know anything about me."

And the truth of it stung more than she cared to admit.

The reality was, she didn't know Film. Not really. She had never made an effort to. Everything she thought she knew came secondhand—from Sonya and mostly from the media. Faye never spoke about Film, not even in passing. No complaints, no compliments, nothing. Film had been a black hole in Faye's narrative, a sore topic that Namtan never dared to broach. And yet, Namtan had filled in the blanks herself, painting Film as the villain, the one who had left Faye broken and hesitant to love again.

It was easier that way, wasn't it? To create a monster in her mind, someone to blame for all of Faye's pain. It gave Namtan a sense of purpose, a cause to fight for. But sitting here now, replaying the last 24 hours in her mind, Namtan couldn't ignore the gaping holes in her assumptions. The Film she had constructed in her imagination was worlds apart from the woman she had been talking to.

Film wasn't cruel or conniving. She wasn't even defensive. She was calm, collected, and, most surprisingly, vulnerable. She spoke with a clarity that left Namtan unsettled, challenging every preconceived notion she had clung to for years. And as much as Namtan hated to admit it, she had been unfair—grossly unfair. She had judged Film without giving her the benefit of the doubt, without even trying to understand her side of the story.

Her mind flashed back to the first time Sonya had brought up Film. Sonya had been vague, dropping little comments about Faye's ex that seemed harmless at first but painted a picture over time—a picture of a woman who didn't care, who had hurt Faye without a second thought. Namtan had latched onto those fragments, letting them fuel her resentment. She hadn't questioned them, hadn't stopped to wonder if there was more to the story. She had simply decided that Film was the enemy.

But sitting here now, Namtan couldn't shake the unease growing in her chest. How could she have been so quick to judge someone she had never even tried to understand?

The weight of it pressed down on her, forcing her to confront an uncomfortable truth: she had been so focused on protecting Faye, on being the friend who stood by her no matter what, that she had blinded herself to the complexity of the situation. She had acted out of loyalty, yes, but also out of arrogance—the arrogance of thinking she knew the whole story when she didn't even know the half of it.

And Film... Film had every right to be angry. Namtan had treated her like a caricature, not a person. She had assumed the worst and acted on it without a second thought, never stopping to consider what Film might have been going through.

With every word Film had spoken in their brief conversations, Namtan's carefully constructed image of her had crumbled. The cracks had started small, but now the entire facade had shattered, leaving Namtan face-to-face with the reality she had been avoiding: she didn't know Film. Not her struggles, not her choices, not her reasons for leaving Faye. Nothing.

And maybe, just maybe, it was time to stop pretending she did.

Namtan sighed, her breath fogging up the glass as she pressed her forehead against it. She had made a mess of things—there was no denying that. But if there was one thing she could still do, it was to start making amends. To listen, to understand, and to finally see Film for who she truly was—not the villain Namtan had imagined, but a flawed, complicated person, just like everyone else.