"Why are you only showing up now?" I confronted him as he waited for me outside the campus gate. Mitch, Zette, and I were just leaving when I saw him.
"I-I didn't know where to find you," he stammered, unable to look me in the eye.
"What do you mean you didn't know? Didn't I tell you where I usually stay and where you can call me?" I snapped at him, unable to hold back the frustration I had been bottling up for days. I was so caught up in my anger that I didn't even realize Mitch and Zette had already left without saying goodbye, probably not wanting to witness the scene any further.
"Sorry, I forgot," he mumbled—such a pathetic excuse.
"You're unbelievable! You know what? One more lame answer and I'll leave you here without fixing this. And honestly, I don't even know if this can still be fixed! I can't understand you!" I hissed, trying to keep my voice low since a lot of students were coming out of the campus. We were stuck by the roadside, surrounded by the noise of people talking and laughing, and the occasional honking of cars.
I stood there like a fool, watching students pass by—some heading straight for the jeepneys, others getting into their own cars. I waited for him to say something, anything. But there was nothing. Not a single word. Just the sounds of passing vehicles and students chattering in the background.
"Do you have anything else to say? Because if not, I'm leaving. I'm exhausted from the whole day, and I have to wake up early tomorrow," I broke the silence, not even bothering to look at him.
Still, he remained quiet. The only response I got was a deep sigh, which only irritated me more. The weight in my chest grew heavier as I waited for him to explain, to say something—anything—but he just stood there, hands in his pockets, staring at the street.
I wasn't sure if walking away was the right thing to do, but what was the point of staying if he wouldn't even speak?
I walked towards the other side of the street to catch a jeep going to Mitch's place. I figured nothing productive would come out of this conversation tonight. His silence was infuriating, and the more he refused to talk, the angrier I felt. He should be explaining why he never showed up on his birthday, why he made me look like a fool.
I walked quickly, eager to get home. I didn't even bother checking if he was following me. My mind was too cluttered with emotions. But as soon as I got into the jeep, I was startled when someone sat beside me.
He had followed me without me noticing.
I ignored him completely. I paid for my fare as if I were the only one in the jeep.
"Lui, wait," he called out just as I was about to enter Mitch's house.
"Why are you following me? I asked you earlier if you had anything to say, and you said nothing. So, what is it now?" I snapped at him, frustration boiling over as we stood in front of Mitch's gate.
"Lui! Come inside and talk here instead. You don't want the neighbors seeing and overhearing your conversation," Mitch called out from the doorway.
I didn't respond, but I walked straight into the house without looking back or checking if Georje followed me.
"Come on, it's better if you two talk inside. At least you won't be eaten alive by mosquitoes," Mitch added, draping an arm over my shoulder as she led me inside.
As soon as we stepped in, Mitch guided me to the sofa and left for the kitchen. Meanwhile, Georje had just entered, moving slowly before settling into the single-seater chair to my right, across from the long sofa where I sat.
"Lui, here, have some water. Chill out before you give yourself a heart attack. That would be your loss," Mitch joked, handing me a glass of cold water. She also placed another full glass on the center table—most likely for Georje.
"Have you guys eaten?" she asked.
"Not yet, but don't worry. I'm not really hungry. Thanks for the water," I replied softly. From the corner of my eye, I could see Georje staring at the floor, unmoving.
"Alright, I'll leave you two so you can talk properly. Georje, please—fix this. Explain everything clearly so there won't be any more problems," Mitch advised him before leaving the room. I didn't bother looking at his reaction to her words.
Silence took over again, with only the sound of the electric fan filling the space since the TV was off.
"What's the point of coming here if you're not even going to say anything?" I finally broke the silence.
"I just want to rest, and you can go home now. We're wasting our time sitting here doing nothing. I have an early class tomorrow," I added, not even glancing at him.
Once again, his only response was a deep sigh.
Then, after a moment, I heard him clear his throat.
"Lui, I'm sorry I couldn't come… about what we talked about. Some friends invited me for drinks, and I couldn't say no," he explained.
"If that's the case, then you could have at least called me! Instead, you made me look like a fool, and Mitch and Zette got dragged into it, too! Do you even know why I'm this angry at you?! I went through all the trouble of preparing a birthday surprise for you! I ordered food, got you a cake, decorated with balloons and banners—with our friends helping me just to surprise you! But in the end, I was the one who got surprised because you didn't even show up!" I shouted, standing up and storming to my room to grab the gift I had for him.
When I came back, I couldn't stop myself—I threw the gift right at his face.
"How many more times are you going to ignore me? How many more times will you make me look like a fool? Do you only remember me when you need something? Is that it, Georje? What am I to you, huh? What am I really to you?" I fired question after question at him, my tears finally spilling over.
He picked up the fallen gift from the floor—he hadn't even caught it when I threw it at him.
"I'm sorry… I didn't know. If I had known something like that was happening, I would have come," he muttered, staring at the gift in his hands.
"That's the whole point of a surprise, isn't it? Why would I tell you? If I did, it wouldn't be a surprise anymore! Your excuses are so damn pathetic!" I snapped, still standing in front of him, the center table between us.
"I-It was also Jerome's birthday… we share the same birthday. That's why we celebrated at his place," he stammered.
"You knew you were sharing a birthday with someone else, so why didn't you tell me when we talked? I would have understood if you couldn't come! At least I wouldn't have looked like a fool in front of my friends! What is this, some kind of joke?" I asked furiously.
He didn't answer. He just sat there, still holding the gift, staring at it with his elbows resting on his knees. His hair fell over his forehead, partially covering his face.
"Go home. It's late, and I want to rest," I said, my voice breaking as I sniffled.
Again, he said nothing. I walked to the door and opened it, making it clear that I was serious about sending him away. The exhaustion I had been feeling all day from school worsened, but more than that, I felt drained from the anger I had been trying to suppress for days.
Slowly, he stood up, still holding the gift I had thrown at him earlier. He quietly approached me, gently squeezed my arm, and then stepped out the door. As he walked out, I was about to close it when he suddenly turned around.
"Thank you," he muttered almost in a whisper before turning back toward the gate.
I shut the door and locked it.
I didn't even think about eating. I grabbed the glass from the center table and took it to the kitchen. I didn't have the energy to wash it, so I just placed it in the sink.
I entered the room that used to belong to Mitch's aunt, who was now staying in the province.
I took out some sleepwear from my duffle bag and changed before collapsing onto the bed, completely drained. Tears continued to stream down my face as I stared at the window, where faint light from a streetlamp outside seeped into the room.
At some point, I cried myself to sleep.
A brand new day means new hope for everything.
New hope that he'll realize his mistakes.
New hope that he'll finally learn to speak, but with reason—not just saying things because he has to, only for them to be meaningless.
"Morning," I greeted Zette as Mitch and I entered the classroom.
"Yeah, morning. Just morning—there's nothing 'good' about it," Zette teased.
"Ow! That hurt!" she suddenly complained to Mitch. I wasn't sure what happened, but I heard her yelp.
"Good morning! There, happy now?" Mitch replied sarcastically.
"Morning, pips!" Blue suddenly shouted as he entered the room.
We were all classmates in Trigonometry.
"Good morning, ladies!" he greeted the three of us before sitting beside me.
"Lui, let me guess—you're a panda again, huh?" he said, nudging me playfully.
"Oh, Blue! It's too early for your nonsense! Leave Lui alone," Mitch scolded him before going back to whispering with Zette. As if I couldn't hear them—come on, we were sitting right next to each other. I knew they were talking about me. They were probably wondering why I hadn't taken off my sunglasses yet. Our professor wasn't here yet, so I figured it was fine. My eyes were still swollen, and the sunlight earlier had been blinding.
Since it was still early, Blue couldn't resist moving to sit next to Zette, joining their little whisper session. Ugh. And here I thought gossiping was just a girl thing—turns out guys can be even worse.
"Why are you so mad? I was just joking! You're wearing shades, and I know what that means—you always wear them when you look like a panda. I mean, we're all sleep-deprived anyway," he reasoned, probably after getting an intense glare from Mitch, who looked ready to clench her fist at him.
That's just how they were—I'd gotten used to it. After all, we were always together.
"It's okay, but just not with Lui for now. You can joke around with us, no problem," Mitch explained to him.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm only human. I guess my timing was wrong. I'm really sorry—I'm just so used to joking around with Lui all the time," Blue said sadly.
Their whispering stopped when our professor walked in, and it was time for me to take off my shades. I focused on listening and copying notes. I preferred keeping myself busy when my mind was full, so I wouldn't overthink things.
Our Trigonometry class ended, though I barely understood the lesson. At least I had complete notes to study later.
It was lunchtime, and Zette, Mitch, and I went together, with Blue tagging along since we were in the same training group. The rest of our friends weren't with us yet—only the four of us were classmates in Trigo, while in Philosophy, only Mitch and Zette were together.
"Is the script for the variety show finalized?" I asked, steering the conversation away from any teasing or questions I didn't want to deal with.
"The variety show itself is final, but we still need to polish the script. There will definitely be changes. Roy keeps complaining about everything," Blue explained.
"What exactly is he complaining about? Roy can be so annoying sometimes! He always wants things done his way, but his suggestions are so extravagant and expensive! He's not practical at all—probably because he's rich!" Mitch added, clearly fed up with our bratty groupmate.
"How about this—just like we did for a previous project, let's hold a vote later when everyone is here. Blue, you need to stand firm. We know Roy is your best friend, but it's not fair that we always give in to his whims. We need to consider the whole group—what if not everyone agrees with his idea? You get me?" I said to the three of them before finishing my iced tea. We had just finished eating and were now heading to our meeting place on campus for a group discussion about our next filmmaking project.
"Roy's idea will cost us too much," I objected. Normally, I didn't get this worked up over his ideas, but for some reason, today, I wanted to challenge everything he was saying.
"Roy, your idea is good, but think about the rest of us—we don't have the luxury of not worrying about expenses like you do," I added. I knew some of our groupmates were also against it but just didn't have the courage to speak up.
"Yeah, Roy, try to be more considerate. We still have several projects coming up before our training ends. There are so many things we need to spend on. It would be better if we just did it at school instead of renting a venue. And as for the lighting issue you're worried about, there are plenty of ways we can improve it without spending too much," Mitch agreed.
"What really matters here is our creativity. We can even do it right here in the lounge. Over there, we can set up a small stage. We can ask permission from the property custodian to use the stage that was previously used here, and then we can just rent additional lights instead of renting an entire venue—that would be much cheaper," added Peachy, another one of our groupmates.
"Okay, to be fair, let's hold a vote. Raise your hand if you're in favor of Roy's idea," Blue announced.
We all exchanged glances, waiting to see who would vote. As expected, only Roy raised his hand—it was his idea, after all.
"Thank you. Now, those in favor of Mitch and Peachy's idea?"
Everyone raised their hands except Roy and Blue.
"So, with the majority vote, Mitch and Peachy's idea wins. The next thing we'll do is review our script for polishing. After that, we'll discuss the budget," Blue explained.
We all opened our folders, each holding a copy of the script, ready to go through it together.
"Professor Mendoza said our show should be at least thirty minutes long but not more than an hour," Blue added while we were all busy reading through the script for final editing.
Thank God! Everything went smoothly. In the coming days, we'd be busy preparing for the filming of our variety show. The boys were assigned to build the stage at the far end of the student lounge. There was no problem with this since the school admin was aware of our filmmaking training and already knew about our plans.
Zette and I were in charge of renting and buying the necessary equipment for our project, while Mitch and her partner Peachy had their own responsibilities since they were the ones who collaborated on this project.
Everyone else had their own tasks, and we were all busy handling our assignments.
By around eight in the evening, there were only a few students left on campus, but we were still working to finalize everything so that the performers and hosts could start rehearsing tomorrow before the actual shoot. The stage was already set up; only the finishing touches on the backdrop and decorations were left. The lighting was also being tested. Our expenses were kept low since we only had to spend on lighting and a few props—excluding meals for the performers, who, thankfully, had a separate budget. The performers were our schoolmates anyway.
We decided to leave campus to grab dinner together, taking a short break before pulling an all-nighter for more preparations.
"Where are we eating? Let's pick somewhere close so we don't waste too much time," Mitch asked, since we had been debating about it for a while.
"The mall is right there—it's super close," Blue said, pointing at it. Everyone agreed, so we headed in that direction.
I noticed Zette and Mitch whispering to each other, but I didn't bother paying attention. Instead, I focused on listening to music from my CD player, which was inside my sling bag. Music was relaxing for me—music was life. I could go without watching TV, but I couldn't go a day without music. That's how addicted I was to it. At least I was addicted to music and not illegal drugs, right?
Blue was walking beside me, talking to his best friend, Roy. I stayed quiet, just listening. Zette and Mitch were ahead of me, and I could clearly see them nudging and whispering to each other. I was used to those two, so I didn't mind. Both my hands were in my pockets, making me look like I was completely bored with life. I wasn't really bored—just exhausted from the heat earlier while we were picking up the rented lighting equipment.
And at the same time, I was starving. We had been so busy that we forgot to take a snack break.
"Lui, let's cross," Blue nudged me, snapping me back to reality.
"You're spacing out again while walking," he scolded me, grabbing my elbow so we could cross together.
"Huh?" I asked, confused.
"I said you were walking like you weren't even present," Blue repeated.
"I wasn't—I was just focused on the music I was listening to," I explained.
"Really? Let me hear what you're listening to," Roy cut in, moving beside me. I handed him my left earbud so he could listen.
"Wow, Lui! You actually listen to this kind of music? You don't look like the type, to be honest," Roy commented, seeming entertained by what he was hearing.
"Of course! It's so relaxing. I prefer listening to this kind of music when I'm stressed, under pressure, or exhausted. It helps me calm down instead of getting irritated," I replied.
"You're right, it's calming and really relaxing. Who's the artist?" he asked again.
"Kenny G."
"How did you discover this kind of music?" he asked once more.
"Through my older brother—the one who's a seaman. He has a collection of Kenny G albums. One time, when he was on vacation, he played it at home, and I really liked it. I asked if I could have that album, but he said no because it had sentimental value to him. Instead, he said he'd buy me my own. Later on, he sent me two albums—the ones I've been listening to," I explained, while he continued to enjoy the music.