The Unspoken Currents

Echos in the Silence

Freen sat hunched over her laptop in the corner of a bustling café, her fingers flying across the keyboard as she typed out the last few lines of code. The noise around her faded into the background, a constant hum that she had long learned to tune out. Her focus was sharp, her mind locked onto the intricate puzzle of lines and syntax that made up her project.

She was in her final year at one of the top tech universities, having secured a full scholarship that covered tuition and most of her living expenses. It had been a lifeline, a chance to carve out a future for herself that was far removed from the shadows of her past. She had thrown herself into her studies and work with a singular determination, leaving little room for anything else.

Including thoughts of Becky.

Freen had made a pact with herself a long time ago—she wouldn't think about Becky, wouldn't dwell on what had happened, or wonder what might have been. That part of her life was over, sealed off like a room she would never enter again. She had a plan now, a future to build, and she couldn't afford to get sidetracked by memories that belonged in the past.

Her phone buzzed on the table beside her, drawing her out of her trance. She glanced at the screen—Nam. Freen sighed and picked up the call, already knowing what was coming.

"Hey, Freen," Nam's voice crackled through the line, a mix of concern and exasperation. "Are you coming home tonight? Heng and I haven't seen you in days."

"Sorry," Freen said, her voice flat. "I've been swamped with work and this project."

"You always are," Nam replied, a hint of frustration creeping into her tone. "You need to take a break. We miss you, you know. The apartment feels empty without you."

Freen closed her eyes, rubbing her temple with her free hand. "I know, Nam. I just... I have a lot on my plate right now."

"More like you always have a lot on your plate," Nam shot back. "Look, I get it. You're busy, and you're working hard. But you can't keep running yourself into the ground like this."

Freen's jaw tightened. "I'm not running myself into the ground. I'm building something. Something important."

"I know," Nam said, her voice softening. "But you can't keep shutting everyone out. It's not healthy."

Freen didn't respond, staring at the screen of her laptop as if it held the answers to questions she couldn't bring herself to ask. She knew Nam was right, in a way. She knew she was pushing herself to the limit, filling every waking moment with work and study to keep her mind occupied. But it was the only way she knew how to cope.

"Just think about it, okay?" Nam said after a pause. "Come home tonight. Have dinner with us. Please."

Freen let out a slow breath. "I'll try," she said finally. "No promises."

"I'll take it," Nam replied with a sigh of relief. "See you later, hopefully."

The call ended, and Freen set her phone back on the table, staring at it for a long moment. She knew Nam and Heng worried about her, about how much she worked, how little she slept. But they didn't understand. They didn't know what it was like to carry the weight of a past you couldn't change, a future you were desperately trying to control.

Freen turned back to her laptop, pushing the thoughts away. She had a plan. She was going to build her tech company, create something that mattered. And to do that, she needed to stay focused, to keep moving forward.

---

Hours later, Freen finally made it back to her apartment. The lights were on, and she could hear the faint sound of music coming from the living room. Freen slipped off her shoes and walked in, dropping her bag by the door. Nam and Heng looked up as she entered, their expressions a mix of relief and surprise.