It didn't take long for them to fulfil the promise "see you in Bangkok."
This trip had a clear purpose—to confirm details before the shooting for the GL project- Unspoken Love, to break it down into steps that could actually be executed.
The first few days were filled with meetings, coordination, location checks—one after another, barely a pause. Fiona oversaw everything from the presenters' side, keeping departments aligned; Lin focused on making the script into something real, working through emotional beats and shot design; Yeh moved between the two, making calls, holding the balance between creation and execution.
This time, they didn't stay in a hotel. They rented an apartment.
It wasn't luxurious, but it was clean, open, and with the rich flavor of life.There were dishes in the kitchen, a balcony overlooking the street, lights slowly coming on at night. Compared to a hotel, it felt like a place where life actually happened.
The three of them slipped into a short, intense version of living together.
The room arrangement came without discussion. Lin and Yeh shared one bedroom; Fiona, who used to stay up late, took her own space.
It was so natural that it made Yeh slightly uneasy at ffirst She hadn't shared a room with anyone in years, not even friends. The idea of sharing space, sharing routines, felt unfamiliar.
Lin, on the other hand, moved through it eeffortlessly She unpacked, straightened the bed, leaving half the space open without thinking, as if this were the most ordinary arrangement. She still shared an apartment back home—with Jing, something Yeh had known all along.
That ease made Yeh's initial stiffness feel unnecessary.
And soon enough, it faded into the rhythm of daily life.
Rushed mornings, tired returns at night. Sometimes the three of them ate takeouts, sometimes they sat in the living room, casually going over the day's work. Their days were filled with work, yet there was an unexpected sense of ease, which reminded Yeh of early years—living with friends, went to and after work together.
The first day of shooting took place on a university campus in Bangkok.
It was the scene where the two leading ladies meet for the first time—
something accidental, something that already feels inevitable.
Lin and Yeh stayed on set the whole time. They watched closely and carefully.
As if confirming the story—or quietly comparing it to something of their own.
By the time they wrapped, it was already at dusk. The campus had emptied out, but the grass still held the warmth of the day. Lights flickered on one by one, and somewhere in the distance, students were talking softly.
yeh and Lin didn't leave right away. Instead, they walked onto the lawn and sat down.
At that hour, the sky carried a restrained blend of pink and violet, the colors shifting so naturally it was hard to look away.
Yeh watched it, and for a brief moment, she felt blurred. She had imagined a scene like this before—sitting on a campus lawn, watching a full sunset with someone she liked.
Back then, it had been abstract.
Now it was real. No planning, no intention.
Just sitting there.
Talking about university life came easily.
Lin started, mentioning her first love.
They had been classmates.
She didn't use big words, just said, simply, that the girl had been good—that the relationship was what made her realize, clearly for the first time, that she had a feel for women.
Her voice was light, like she was speaking about something she had already let go of. They had gone to different cities after graduation, drifted apart as their lives moved on. There had been regret, of course—but more than that, a sense of gratitude.
Yeh listened without interrupting.
Something small moved through her—not sharp, but real. She could almost picture that girl—beautiful, gentle, good enough to make Lin fell in love with early in life.
And for a fleeting second, she had the vague sense that she had appear too late.
Lin went on, talking about campus life in Taiwan. The pace was slow, she talked abou the weather, the architecture, the culture, the people, everything carried an easy looseness which are perfect for films and dramas.
Yeh nodded, already reconstructing the scene in her mmind
And in that moment, a thought took shape—clear, specific.
If there were a chance someday, she would want to go to Taipei with Lin.
When it was her turn, Yeh admitted her own college years hadn't been romantic. They were about goals, studying, exploring the city with friends. She had always known what she wanted—enough freedom, enough resources, enough money to do what she would love to.
Relationships and falling for someone had come late for Yeh, and always under control. She had never been the kind of person to stop for relationships.
Yeh never expected that it was because of the same idea—making a story that could heal people—that had brought she and Lin here, two people who had never been on the same path, now sitting side by side on a campus lawn in Bangkok.
From someone else's story—
and, somewhere in it, beginning to see each other.