Still

v.

int. gemini pub - night

Al

"That was amazing. Original?"

"Would I ask them to sing along if it were my original composition?" I bite back, brushing past him. I pause, whispering, "Too old for The 1975?"

Mark grabs my elbow, his tight grasp immediately loosening when I crane my neck to look him in the eye. "What was that?"

I force a smile, and it takes all my remaining willpower not to spit in his bearded face. "I said, you should try listening to The 1975."

His jaw twitches. He does not look impressed.

I suck in a breath. "Also, thank you, sir, for saying it was amazing. That means a lot."

The performance exhausted me to the bone, especially with the presence of bar chords that made the healing cut on my finger hurt again. At this moment, though, I would choose tearing my wound open than let Mark's breath hit my face for another second.

"Cut the formality, it's not like anyone else can hear us. I told you to just call me Mark."

"I'm sorry," I tell him, willing my smile not to drop. "I'm just not used to calling my boss by his name, especially when he's ten years older."

His eyes darken, and I know from experience that he's had a drink or two. I knew his breath smelled more filthy than usual tonight.

"Excuse me," I say, twisting my arm away from his grip. He is about to step towards me when a girl suddenly slips in between us. There is a wide smile on her face, her beige getup an unusual choice for an outfit in this place at this time of the night. She is oblivious to the tension brewing in the area where she stepped into.

"Hi. You were great," she tells me without hesitation.

Stifling a sigh of relief for her distraction, I smile at her. Business smile. "Thank you."

"You inspired me to sing."

I raise my brows. "Oh. I haven't heard that-"

"On stage. Can I?"

I laugh, amused by her enthusiasm and bravery that is obviously influenced by her drink. Mark steps beside the girl, studying her face.

"Wait, Miss, are you dru-?"

Before he can finish his sentence, I take the girl by the hand and walk back to the stage. She still hasn't lost the courage to face the audience.

A number of people turn to face the stage, the same regular boy from earlier yelling my name. I turn the mic on, addressing him, "No, Brent, I'm sorry I won't be performing a second time tonight." Then, looking at the girl in beige, I address the entire pub, "I have here a beautiful girl who wants to sing for us tonight. Let's give her a round of applause."

The customers turn to look at her in interest. I expect the girl to look flustered with the sudden attention, but she is beaming with excitement as she turns the mic towards her. "Mic check. Oh, never mind."

A group of people her age, presumably her friends, laughs from their table right across from the stage. I recognize one of them as the girl who failed to discreetly look at my tattoos at the bathroom moments ago.

"I can't play an instrument, but I'm sure a lot of you know what I'm going to be singing. I'm offering this song for all the hopeless romantics out there. Shoutout sa Camp Sawi d'yan oh!*"

The boy from their table is the only one who claps. The only other noise is from our resident guitarist setting up behind the girl. He converses with her in whispers for a moment before she faces the front again. I leave the stage, anticipating the next words that come out of her mouth - preferably ones she won't regret once she sobers up.

"But before that, I just want to introduce my friends. You guys better stand when I say your name." She clears her throat before continuing, "That's Pamela- I said, stand. Then that's Emilio Montano. Not affiliated with Cesar Montano, so if you want a showbiz-related boyfriend, please look somewhere else. And then there's Mara, best in halloween costume. Finally, there's Gem. The cutest one. They're all single, by the way."

Other members of the audience have started laughing and cheering on the girl on stage.

"And my name's Darylle, but you can call me tonight."

The laughter grows louder and noticeably less awkward, but at that moment a switch seemed to have lit in my brain. I look at the table where Darylle's friends sat, fixing my gaze on the girl from the bathroom. Her button nose, milky skin, and petite figure - how could I possibly not recognize her at first glance?

As the lights grow dimmer, and as the guitarist sets the mood for the performance, the corners of my lips stretch into a smile.

-

author's note

finally!

"Shoutout sa Camp Sawi jan oh!" - Camp Sawi is a Filipino movie, and this phrase has the same meaning as "Shoutout to the heartbroken ones out there!"