Story cover for You are my Sunshine by freenbeckythaigf
You are my Sunshine
freenbeckythaigf
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  • WpHistory
    Time 20m
  • WpView
    Reads 97
  • WpVote
    Votes 2
  • WpPart
    Parts 1
  • WpHistory
    Time 20m
freenbeckythaigf
Complete, First published Jul 16
beckyarmstrongfreenbeckyfreensarochagaptheseries
They met on set.
They grew close.
The world watched something beautiful unfold.
But not everything real needs to be seen.
And not everything seen is what it seems.
All Rights Reserved
beckyarmstrongfreenbeckyfreensarochagaptheseries
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The rhythmic thud of pads and the sharp snap of kicks echoed through the humid gym air. Rebecca "The Rocket" Armstrong focused on her shin guards, familiar armor for the dance of eight limbs. Across the matted floor, Freen "The Fury" Sarocha moved with a fluid power that spoke of countless hours honing her devastating strikes. Their rivalry in the kickboxing circuit was legendary, Becky's lightning-fast combinations against Freen's bone-jarring power kicks. Their press conferences were battlegrounds of witty (and sometimes barbed) remarks. Becky recalled a particularly tense staredown after a weigh-in, the air thick with mutual challenge. But lately, a subtle shift had occurred. A lingering glance during training at a shared facility, a flicker of something unexpected beneath the competitive fire. As they both geared up for their next pivotal matches, unknowingly on a collision course, neither Rebecca nor Freen anticipated that their fiercest fight wouldn't be for championship glory, but for a surprising connection blooming amidst the sweats and strikes!
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This is Becky's Life: "You just got promoted!" "Really?!" Asks Becky in surprised. When her boss nods at her smiling. "I just got promoted!" Becky jumps in joy! Her life is really going into where she wants to be. And This is Freen's Life: "da da da da daaaa it's tha motha f**kin' D oh double G (Snoop dogg) da da da da daaaa You know im mobbin' with the D.R.E" Freen sings along to the music that is playing inside their apartment. She bangs her head with the rest of her roommates. Partying and dancing to this song, it is their theme song. "Smoke weed every day!!" Freen shouts on top of her lungs singing with Snoop Dog coming from their stereo. Their paths crossed and had a 'one-night thing' but eight weeks later. "We're pregnant," says Becky just to get it over with. "What?!" Asks Freen in shock. How will things go for them? ×× Converted Original story by ©sanafiction
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Freen's POV - 6 years ago* "You're late, Sarocha!" I rushed into the charity gala, still in uniform. Everyone else looked fancy. I looked like I'd just arrested someone. Which I had. Then I saw her. Beautiful girl in a black dress, surrounded by boring old men. She looked... trapped. Like she'd rather be anywhere else. "That's Becky Armstrong," Nam whispered. "Armstrong Industries princess. Way out of your league." But something about how alone she looked... "I'm gonna talk to her." "FREEN, NO!" Too late. I was already walking over. "Ms. Armstrong? I'm Officer Freen Sarocha. Want to get some air?" She turned, brown eyes meeting mine, and smiled. A real smile. "I thought you'd never ask." --- Freen's POV - Present day I stare at the old photo on my desk. Becky and me, laughing at some café. So young. So happy. So unaware of what was coming. Five years since everything fell apart. My phone buzzes. Officer Sarocha? This is Richard Armstrong. We need your help. It's about my granddaughter... Roni. The daughter I've never met. "I'll be right there." I look at the photo one more time. Are you ready to see her again, Freen? No. But a child is missing. And despite everything, I'd still do anything for Becky. Even if it destroys me all over again.
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Marriage cover

Knockout Hearts!

1 part Complete

The rhythmic thud of pads and the sharp snap of kicks echoed through the humid gym air. Rebecca "The Rocket" Armstrong focused on her shin guards, familiar armor for the dance of eight limbs. Across the matted floor, Freen "The Fury" Sarocha moved with a fluid power that spoke of countless hours honing her devastating strikes. Their rivalry in the kickboxing circuit was legendary, Becky's lightning-fast combinations against Freen's bone-jarring power kicks. Their press conferences were battlegrounds of witty (and sometimes barbed) remarks. Becky recalled a particularly tense staredown after a weigh-in, the air thick with mutual challenge. But lately, a subtle shift had occurred. A lingering glance during training at a shared facility, a flicker of something unexpected beneath the competitive fire. As they both geared up for their next pivotal matches, unknowingly on a collision course, neither Rebecca nor Freen anticipated that their fiercest fight wouldn't be for championship glory, but for a surprising connection blooming amidst the sweats and strikes!

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