"She must return unscathed. Do you understand?"
Rolling my eyes inwardly, I end the short call and toss the phone on the carpet. Kyle, on the other hand, picks the phone up and sets it on the glass table.
"I can't believe she gave her consent. Do you think she’s planning something?" he asks, handing me my coffee.
"Even if she's bait for me to come home, it's still not gonna happen," I mumble and reach for the drink in his hand.
Sipping my coffee, I see my phone light up, indicating a message. Knowing who it is from, I ignore it and inspect my hand. It still aches a bit whenever I move it, but it is bearable. As for my eye, heh, the fresh stitch can be covered with an eyepatch. Getting slapped in the face and breaking a wine glass in an important event will surely make it to the headlines— not that I'm bothered by it though.
It's been half a day since I returned to the Philippines. I've been staying with my grandmother in her home in this remote town after having given souvenirs to them.
My appearance got me a good scolding from her, but I let her be. She prefers my rougher hair colors to my looking like a good girl; and I love her for that. She prefers neon green hair to dull black, and it's the truth. It has been a while since I last went here, you see. Might as well enjoy her ranting about my perfectionist mother.
My grandmother radiates confidence and passion— a great mixture of values. She is unlike my mother who is weak and easily tempted— the very example of people who change when they have a taste of money. Imprinting her poor values to me, her child, my mother left the house on her own accord and married someone rich.
I find it funny that certain human beings turn a solid 180 degrees when they get what they want, be it money, fame or connections. They think so highly of themselves that they even forget where they came from. That's the kind of person my mother is. Indulging herself in luxury, she began to manipulate everyone around her. Pathetic.
It's already been 4 hours since I came back to my apartment, and lately was told that my sister would also be staying there. After that stunt I pulled, it was weird that my sister followed me here. It's now a Monday morning and Kyle had decided to stay for the day. Right after I got home late last night, I called Kyle to bring me to my grandma's town. I was in no condition to ride public transportation or ride a bike by myself.
Knowing that my grandmother is a bit strict, I allowed Kyle to stay here but only for a bit. And here I was, notified of the news that my sister would be arriving tomorrow morning. Great, now I have to return to the city— mark my sarcasm. I didn't get a chance to rest, and now we're going back? Such a hassle. I planned to rest for a week before returning to work, but what do you know, bothersome luggage came right after me.
"It's a call again," Kyle tells me.
I groan in annoyance and let him answer the call, as I am in no mood to entertain people.
"She's busy right now. This is her friend. Are these matters of urgency? Oh okay, I'll let her know."
"Who is it?" I sip my coffee and lay my palm on my lap.
"Caskin. She said she needed a favor for school."
What in the hell? I place my coffee on the glass table and take my phone. We barely talk to each other, but now she needs a favor? I wonder what that could be. And how in the hell did she know my new contact number?
After a couple of rings, she answers. "Hey!"
"What do you want?" I ask nonchalantly.
"Please help me!"
Wincing at her voice, I lower the volume of the call. "About what?"
"I know you did modeling. Can you help my senior for his project?"
Modeling. Huh, I wonder why I feel a slight pain in my chest. Is it because it feels nostalgic? "Why me?"
"Why not you?! You're a friend! A beautiful one!" she claims.
"Flattering me won't help. Bye."
Tossing the phone again, but this time on the tiled floor rather than the carpet, Kyle stands alert in panic.
"What in the hell?! This is brand new! Ugh, it has a small scratch now! Be careful, will you?!"
Oops. I forgot he has this addiction to iPhone, his phone being one.