With one last wave and a smile to his ogling fans, Adrian shut the door of his van and sank into his seat. His chauffeur, *Kuya Bong, maneuvred the vehicle out of the parking lot of Rockwell Tent onto the main road. It was almost 10:00 PM, but traffic was still moderately heavy on this Sunday evening. Most of his co-members in the ABS Philharmonic orchestra had already left an hour ago while he stayed behind to mingle with his fans after their show.
"Sir, do you have a side trip in mind before heading home?" Kuya Bong glanced at him through the rear-view mirror.
"None, Kuya. Let's go home." Adrian smiled gratefully at his ever loyal chauffeur of four years. Kuya Bong was witness to his early struggles in the world of music. Those were the days he almost gave up hope of getting into the mainstream. Those were the days of performing in obscure nightclubs, where, instead of applause at the end of his performance, he received four-letter words for delaying the highlight of the evening – skimpily clad girls gyrating on stage. He could have taken a shortcut to stardom by banking on his family's connections but he chose to do it the hard way. He had just turned twenty-one when that fateful meeting with Uncle Nips happened.
Nipolito "Uncle Nips" Santos of Starlight Records was in search for a new sound and a new face. When an Arizona-based cousin came visiting and requested him for a taste of Malate's vibrant nightlife, he reluctantly agreed. Little did he know that their bar-hopping would lead them to a gold mine. Adrian would later admit that he was wary of the middle-aged, balding man who offered him a record deal right after his show. After all, this wasn't the first time he was offered an indecent proposal, as he mistakenly assumed. It was only at his mom's prodding that he presented himself at Starlight Records and proved it to be a legitimate offer.
Two years and three best-selling albums later, he, Adrian Kho, was the new "It" boy of music. He was a much sought after singer and songwriter, product endorser, and the newest member of the esteemed ABS Philharmonic orchestra. His was a life most enviable. At least, that's what everyone told him – everyone, excluding himself.
They had just reached his flat in Quezon City when his handler, Raquel "Rocky" Villamor, called. "*Ate Rocky! I missed you!" He teased his caller who was with him only a half hour ago at Rockwell.
"It's late. Still hyper?" Rocky's voice lilted with amusement. "Anyway, I called to remind you...7:00 AM call-time tomorrow, okay? That's for your photoshoot with Alveo Land. Then we'll have a meeting with Starlight Records for your next album. Wait, how are your songs coming up? You need three more songs, right? ....Hello? Are you there, Ian?"
"I'm right here, Ate Rocky." Adrian laughed softly. "And I'm on it, okay?"
"Okay, I was just making sure. Now, get some rest and I'll see you tomorrow."
"Okay, Ate..... and lay off the coffee, okay? You're hyper yourself." He smiled into his phone before wishing her a good night.
*Manang Letty, his housekeeper, met them at the door. "Sir, your food's ready."
"I can manage, Manang. Get some rest." He smiled fondly at the tiny, middle-aged woman who had spent half of her forty-something years on earth taking care of him and his mom. Since his mom remarried and moved to the US, it was just him. "You too, Kuya Bong....it's late. Thanks." His chauffeur and housekeeper quietly retreated to their respective quarters.
Alone in his spacious living room, he sat himself before his one-year-old Steinway, a baby grand piano given by his mom on his twenty-second birthday. He stared at the empty music sheet and sharpened pencil resting on the Steinway's music rack. He had placed them there a week ago, to be exact, ready for that moment of inspiration, the kind that pulls him out of bed in the middle of the night just to get the words and notes on paper before they slipped away.
