Day 2 - Wednesday, May 22
I managed to finish my first chapter, feeling pretty confident that I had been able to produce something good. It was definitely better than what I had written before – much more animated and realistic. I was able to send it to Sir Oliver just a few minutes before midnight.
The loud ringing of my cell phone wakes me up the following morning. Still feeling a bit groggy, I reach for the phone on the end table beside my bed.
"Hello?" I say, rubbing my eyes.
"Morning, Sia! It's me."
Marc. "Hmm... So, what's on today's agenda?"
"You'll find out soon enough. Listen, you know The Bistro over at Tomas Morato, right?"
"Uh, yeah..."
"Great. Meet me there at exactly 11 AM."
"Ha?"
"See you!"
"O-oi! Teka..." Marc, the insufferable jerk that he is, doesn't bother hearing me out before hanging up. I am left with no choice but to once again obey without a single protest for the sake of my dream. A quick glance at my bedside clock tells me that I only have roughly an hour to prepare and head for The Bistro.
This is great. Really great.
Good morning talaga.
~
As usual, The Bistro is bursting with people. Though I'm not exactly a fan of their food, several seem to think otherwise. I make my way inside and nervously look around. I catch sight of Marc and immediately approach his table.
"Okay, Marc. What are you...?" My question is left unfinished as I realize that Marc isn't alone. Sitting across him is, in all her famed perfection, Kari Valdez.
My God. He's making me sit in on their date!
"Speak of the devil, here she is!" Marc says, laughing.
"Sia Valencia? You were talking about her?" Kari looks like she just got slapped on the face. "You have got to be kidding me."
For once, I actually agree with you, Kari. "I'm leaving." But before I could even turn to go, Marc makes a grab for my arm and forces me to take a seat. Sitting in a single table with Marc and Kari in The Bistro is definitely a situation I never would have imagined myself to be in.
"Sia's a talented writer. She can easily help you, Kari," Marc tells his girlfriend. Then, he turns to me. "You ready for today's task?"
In my head, I already have my hands around Marc's neck, strangling him furiously. But fully aware that I can't just go making a scene in the restaurant, I have to make do with just throwing dagger-like stares at him. Of course, he ignores me and goes on talking.
"You're going to help Kari with her new TV commercial."
Outrageous. Appalling. Horrifying. Jaw-dropping. Shocking. Unbelievable. Unimaginable. Deplorable. Downright unacceptable. This is one of those moments when the words just come to me and not one of them is enough to describe the situation perfectly. This is just so...
It is no news that Kari is already on the verge of a rising carrier in the country's advertising business. She was babbling all about it during the reunion. With her 'great' sense of style and 'unmatchable' artistic capability in all forms of media (and not to mention, her family's wealth and social status), she easily scored the right opportunities. At present, she brags about being the mastermind behind some of the hit promo ads in the industry. In fact, she not only acts behind the scenes. Lately, she's been making the scenes herself.
"Marc, I think you're forgetting that this is going to be my first television project," Kari goes, obviously trying not to raise her voice. "I can't just let anybody work on it. I need capable people for this, which is why I asked you for help..."
Sorry naman at hindi ako capable enough for you, Madame...
Marc gives out a laugh, oblivious to the fact that tension has started developing around us. "Trust me, Kari. Sia's your girl. She'll come up with something good." Just then, he receives a message on his phone. "Looks like I'm needed at the office..." He hurriedly texts back a reply, rises from his seat, and begins walking for the exit. "I'll leave you two ladies to talk. Have fun!" Just like that, Marc Ramirez is gone and I am left alone with his stuck-up girlfriend.
My phone later signals a message of my own. 'For today, you just have to deal with Kari. Satisfy her and you're free to go. :) Good luck!'
He can't be serious. He just can't be. It's like Marc has forgotten all of the things Kari did to me back in high school. He, of all people, should know why I just can't get along with her.
Recognizing defeat and slowly building up to the idea that I should just succumb to the demands of my parents (Law school, here I come...), I prepare to leave. But I am taken by surprise when, just as I had gotten up to my feet, Kari demands that I take over the seat Marc had vacated. She speaks in such an overbearing tone that I couldn't help but just do as I am told.
We are now sitting across each other. Kari looks at me with contempt and I'm sure the expression I'm giving her is one of equal disdain. Ever since that day back in sophomore year, I've always hated her. And I don't think anything in this world will make me forgive her for what she did.
"What are you plotting, Sia Valencia? Lay your cards on the table right now."
I roll my eyes at her sudden remark. "What on earth are you talking about, Kari?"
"Don't play dumb with me," says Kari with much ridicule. "First, you show up for the reunion at my boyfriend's house. Hell, as far as I can remember, you hate parties. Second, I see you at the mall having lunch with my boyfriend. And now, my boyfriend actually recommends you to help me with my project. You are obviously plotting something, Sia Valencia."
What on earth... I cross my arms and raise my eyebrows at her. "If it's so obvious, why don't you just spit it out, Kari?"
"You're way out of your league if you think you can take Marc away from me."
Kari probably doesn't see it coming, but her remark truly makes me laugh my heart out. I am laughing so hard that the other people in the restaurant are probably thinking that I had lost it. And maybe I have indeed lost it, whatever it is.
"Seriously, Kari... You think I'm after Marc?" I ask, still laughing. I clear my throat in an ineffective attempt at recovering. "That's definitely the funniest thing I've heard in years."
"Well, I don't find it funny at all," Kari says coldly. "I've told you countless times. Know your place." She pushes a folder across the table. "If you really are the writer Marc insists that you are, prove it to me now."
I look from her to the suspicious folder now in front of me. "Uh, ano 'to?"
Kari sighs loudly and mutters something that sounds like "What an idiot..." before reaching forward and opening the folder. "This is a project proposal. The commercial plot line needs a little improvement. That's where you come in, supposed writer. But since it's a fact that you can't come up with anything good, the least you can do is give me something that won't make me a laughingstock."
Words cannot express just how much I want to hurl at her at this very moment. My instinct tells me that I should just stand and leave to avoid physically injuring Kari, but my pride — my ever stubborn pride — makes me do otherwise.
I go through the papers in the folder, hurriedly browsing through the details they contain. The commercial is apparently for a new brand of toothpaste, targeting teenagers in particular. The plot outline is pretty simple, nothing out of the ordinary. Guy A approaches Girl, but Girl is turned off when Guy A smiles at her, baring his horrifyingly ugly teeth. So, Girl is snatched off by Guy B in his super cool motorbike. Guy A puts on an exaggeratedly depressed expression and suddenly, light bulb!, Guy A thinks of this amazing new toothpaste. Cue info segment. Then, Guy A begins showing off his new smile, and finally, gains Girl's attention. Guy A and Girl smile at each other, closing the distance between them gradually as the commercial ends with the product's name and the most pathetic excuse for a tagline this world has ever known.
In other words, Kari's wrong. This doesn't need 'a little improvement'. It needs a lot of it. In fact, it can be a lot better if...
"Well? What do you have to say, Sia Valencia?" Kari challenges.
I ignore Kari's taunting and continue browsing through the papers. I catch sight of the breakdown of what appears to be a proposed budget for the commercial. The total is ridiculously expensive. Looks a bit too much, considering the kind of television ad they were planning on making. What a waste.
"Are you even listening to me?" Kari sounds really pissed off now. Gathering the papers and tucking them neatly back inside the folder, I look up at her. Kari Valdez is glaring at me with her almond-shaped eyes. Her frown sharpens her features but in no way is it ruining her flawless face. I've heard people say that she's been getting help so as to improve her image even further. But now, looking at her up close, I see no hint of artificial change. Sure, there are a few changes but they are changes that can only have been brought about by the passing of years. Kari Valdez has indeed grown more beautiful.
But if there is anything that hasn't changed, it's her foul attitude.
"I don't tolerate people who waste my time, and..."
"Neither do I, Kari."
Silence governs as Kari slowly takes in what I said. "Excuse me?"
"I said we share the same dislike of people who waste our time."
Her eyes widening, Kari slams a fist on the table. "Did you just say what I think you said, Sia Valencia? Are you insinuating that I am wasting your time?"
I sigh and tap my fingers on the folder. "I'm not insinuating anything, Kari. I'm just saying that even though it's pretty clear that we can't stand each other, if you really want help, you should..."
"So, you actually think that you can help?" Kari gives out a laugh without even trying to hide her contempt. "Oh please! Save yourself the embarrassment, Sia!"
It would be a lot easier if she just asked me to strangle her. Kari should be glad that I'm being patient with her. If it wasn't for my dream, I wouldn't be torturing myself by putting up with this nonsense.
Before Kari can throw me another insult, I reach inside my pocket and bring out the pen I always carry with me. Then, taking one of the papers from Kari's folder, I turn it over and begin writing.
Kari gasps and begins a series of complaints. Willing myself to ignore her, I continue on writing. The ideas that had formed inside my head as I was browsing through the plot outline are flowing out now. My pen practically slides through the paper without stopping. Getting so into it, I also manage to write in a few sample dialogue lines.
In a span of minutes, I finish with the outline and examine my work. Then, just before passing it over to Kari, I take it back and write one last line.
Kari snatches the paper the moment I push it to her side of the table. I watch as she reads through what I've written, her eyebrows occasionally raising. Patiently, I wait for her verdict.
She looks up at me from the paper she is holding and smirks. "From what part of the universe did you get this, Sia Valencia? This is ridiculous!" Kari laughs. Then, she straightens the document and reads in a mocking tone, "Because it all begins with a smile." And she laughs some more. "That has got to be the stupidest thing I've ever read."
All the writing workshops and classes I've attended throughout the past eight years share something in common. They all start with the same lesson: Writers can never ever escape criticism. It's part of the job description.
When you write, you are actually trying to materialize a piece of yourself the words you choose, the media you use, like say, a piece of paper and a pen. Then, you expose that part for all to see as you present your writing to do what it has been made to do, to pass on your message to the world.
In a way, it is no different from facing reality and living life, minus the real-time interaction. And similar to life as it is, you can either have friends or enemies. Or in a writer's case, fans or critics. You cannot please everybody.
Thus, all those lecturers and professors have made one thing clear — To be a writer is to be praised and, at the same time, criticized. To be a writer means being able to deal with both.
Both are equally difficult to handle, but I particularly pride myself on my ability to receive praise and criticism with ease. I don't usually have to deal with the former since I've only gotten such from one person. Yes, Aya, who is also the only person I've ever allowed to read my stories out of want and not need. The latter I got a lot and I got it from various people. In fact, because of the many criticisms thrown my way, I've become very welcoming to them. I've learned to nod and take the words spoken against my writing, no matter how harsh, as chances for improvement.
And this is why I thought that I would be able to handle whatever Kari Valdez says about my work. Unfortunately, it looks like I made a mistake. Hearing her go on using words like 'stupid', 'crap', and 'trash' to describe not only my work but also myself is slowly making my insides churn with rage.
Kari Valdez has no right to say anything, praise, or otherwise, about my work.
"It's a TV commercial, for Heaven's sake," continues Kari, her tone getting more and more mocking with each word she speaks. "You can't expect something this nasty to be broadcasted on national television. They'd do more than just sue me for everything I have..."
"Shut up!" It takes me a moment to realize that I've just risen to my feet, knocking down the chair I had been sitting on. The entire restaurant has gone silent and everyone is now looking at us — at me — with expressions that hold mixed emotions. Kari herself is showing a facial expression I've never seen her wear before. Feeling the embarrassment slowly settling in, I realize that I have to make my exit and I have to do it fast.
But not before I say what I need to say to this bitch.
"Stupid? Crap? Trash? Nasty? – Are those the only words you know, Kari? Well, I suggest you listen to what I'm about to tell you so you can improve your limited vocabulary. Then again, I think there's no hope for someone like you..."
"I can tolerate people who give their opinions on my writing in all their candor, but you remain the only exception. You can never be worthy of speaking about my work. Do you think I don't remember? Do you really think that there's even a moment that I am unable to recall the things you did to me?"
"Let me give you some advice, Kari. Do what you want with your life while it still lasts. Throw it away for all I care. Mark my words, Kari Valdez. 'Stupid', 'crap', 'trash', 'nasty', or any other offensive word you know how to use does not even come close to describing what awaits you in hell."
I march out of The Bistro just as my face begins to take a deep shade of red, leaving Kari and the audience that had witnessed my monologue shocked beyond compare.
~
The moment I am out of the restaurant, I run, willing my legs to go as fast as they can. I have no particular destination in mind. All I want is to get as far away as possible.
I run without looking back. I run and run until my legs and feet are practically cursing at me with ache. Panting, I collapse to my knees. Though aware of the wary eyes of the people passing by, I reach for the wall of the building by my side, attempting to use it as support to stand once again. I manage to get back on my feet but I have to rely on the same wall to hold my back.
Drops of sweat are trickling down my entire body. It's been a while since I last ran. In fact, it's been a while since I've engaged in any real physically-straining activity. I've never been good at these kinds of things. I consider having been able to get here a big achievement. Though it certainly isn't that far from The Bistro, it is a distance good enough to create the illusion of safety that I need.
Too preoccupied with keeping myself on my feet, I don't notice the vehicle that had stopped exactly in front of me. I wonder if my eyes are playing tricks on me. It must be an effect of all the stress and pressure. Nothing else can explain, other than the possibility that I may be losing my mind, the sight of the ever-familiar purple car.
But the moment the passenger door swung open, her bright smiling face comes to view and I hear her voice.
"Girl, sakay na!"
Aya to the rescue. I can't recall how many times she has saved me from tight spots.
"I can't thank you enough, Aya," I say, wiping my face with the towel she had offered me. "But, how did you know I was there?"
"I followed you, of course! I've been honking at you all this time, but you weren't noticing me. You ran off at full speed. Thank God you're still the bad runner that you are! Kung hindi, I wouldn't have been able to catch you..."
Ah, yes. My best friend knows exactly the right words to make me feel better. That's Aya, for you... "Followed me? You mean, you saw me leave The Bistro?"
"Yep! Nasa labas lang kaya ako. But because you wanted to jog so badly, you didn't even notice!" Aya says, still with her usual light, teasing tone.
Though I'm grateful that Aya came for me, I can't help but wonder how she managed to be in the right place at the right time. How did she know I was at The Bistro?
"Marc called. Sunduin daw kita. Ang labo lang eh, girl. He takes you out on a fancy lunch date at The Bistro, only to leave you there to scamper off to who-knows-where..." Aya continues, shaking her head. "Kainis 'yun! No matter what I told him, he insisted that I be the one to pick you up. Said that even if he goes back for you, you'll be too —Ano nga 'yun? Ah!— livid to let him take you anywhere."
Marc. That conceited jerk. "Well, he's right about that..." I tell Aya all about Marc's task for the day. I tell her about Kari, the TV commercial, and all the mockery I had to endure. I finish my tale just as Aya stops the car in front of my house.
"May malaking problema talaga'yang babaeng 'yan! Still every bit the snake that she was! " Aya hisses. Then, sighing, she takes on a gentler tone as she pats my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me. "I wish I could stay with you for the rest of the day, girl. But I'm meeting someone and I can't exactly postpone..."
I nod and smile at my best friend gratefully. "OK lang, Aya. Go ahead and do what you have to. Besides, I think I need some alone time."
I get off and wait until Aya and her purple car are out of sight before finally facing my house. The lights in my parents' bedroom are on. One of them, most likely Mom, is home early. Oh great...A deep sigh escapes from my lips. I am in no hurry to go inside.
My cell phone rings. Looking at the name of the caller, I get the urge to throw the device and repeatedly crush it under my foot just to relieve myself of the boiling frustration. But instead, I force myself to answer. Hearing his cool and confident voice only succeeds in testing my patience even further.
"Sia! Did Aya get you home safely?"
I bit my lip to keep myself from using a word that will so amply describe him but will most probably end up being used in such a manner that will attract the attention of everyone within ten meters of where I am, including my own mother. "Marc..."
"How did your session with Kari go?" Marc speaks as if he has done nothing wrong.
"You've got some nerve asking me that question, Marc Ramirez. Why didn't you just ask me to jump over a cliff? It would have certainly done me better..." The voice I hear come out of me is definitely one I didn't recognize.
"Sia, listen, I..."
"No, you listen to me, Marc Ramirez. I am through getting played by you. I am through with this joke. Ayoko na! You don't know what I..."
"Yeah, that's right. I don't know."
"...What did you say?"
"I said you're right, Sia. I don't know what you're feeling right now. So why don't you tell me?"
This guy is impossible. I hastily click the 'End Call' button and shove the phone back inside my pocket. Then, I march myself inside the house.
~
I fix myself a cup of coffee, wishing but doubting that it'll be able to help me relax. Slumping down on my usual seat by the dining table, I don't bother turning on the lights. I don't even draw back the curtains to let the afternoon rays in.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Take a sip. Swallow. Repeat. The process is simple enough for me to follow even without putting my mind into it. Sooner than I thought possible, I find myself calming down.
But it looks like I thought wrong. Light suddenly fills the room and Dad enters, his briefcase in one hand and his cell phone tucked between his shoulder and his ear. His gaze lingers on me for a brief moment but he crosses the room and continues on with his phone call as if I wasn't there to begin with. Looks like we're still playing the Silent Game...
"Have the files ready on my desk. I'll be there in twenty minutes." Dad ends the call, pockets his cell phone and reaches for his car keys, hanging on their usual spot on one of the hooks lining the side of the kitchen cabinets.
I consider saying something, but I can't think of anything that would not end in another argument. Even apologizing would no doubt have either Dad or me yelling at each other for the superficiality of it all.
Dad heads outside without so much as another glance at me. The sound of the car driving away drowns my thoughts as well as any regret that tries to swell up within.
I hate this. I hate feeling that I have to be someone I'm not just to please the people around me, including my own parents. Why can't I do something I want for once?
Why can't they just let me be me?
Saying that today's events have left me overwhelmed would be an understatement. Forget the usual cold shoulder treatment I received from Dad; it's nothing I haven't experienced before. Today's highlight is the extraordinary scene I caused at The Bistro. I can certainly never set foot inside that place again.
Pero OK lang din naman. I didn't like eating at The Bistro in the first place. Being banned from the place is a welcome punishment, especially if it meant getting to see that look on Kari Valdez's face. The incident from earlier is so infuriating that I feel so much like Liane from Lost in a Moment when she finally gets the confidence to face her longtime rival, Ashley.
...
And just like that, I understand. I get what Marc Ramirez's objective was for today's task.
Still, he really should've given me the heads-up.
The feeling was awful yet oddly satisfying. It wasn't like anything I felt before. I was still shaking all over. The thought of what I had just done was still so hard to digest. I would never have thought myself capable of it, doing such a thing to her in front of all those people.
Still, shocked as I was with my own guts, I felt no ounce of guilt over what I had caused her.
She deserved it, every single moment of embarrassment and pain. In fact, she deserved even more for every despicable thing she had done in the past. If it was just about me, I would have been much more lenient. But, it wasn't. She made it about my friends and my family. She made it about Jules.
If she thought that I was just going to let her get away with everything without so much as a fight, she was very much mistaken. Next time, I wasn't going to hold back anymore.
I get a lot of writing done that night. The feelings that had built up within me made it easy to describe just how Liane feels and how she goes about confronting Ms. Perfect Ashley.
Liane undergoes a transformation that takes her by surprise but ultimately leads her to become a person stronger and more able to face life as it comes. Ashley is shocked but nevertheless, she presses on, trying to crush Liane's spirit. She does absolutely everything — the unthinkable and even beyond it — to get Liane to stop and give up. Their first true encounter ends in a draw.
It is a few minutes past 11-o'clock when I am finally satisfied with my writing. I attach the file to an e-mail and immediately send it to Sir Oliver. Right away, I am engulfed with great relief and a sense of fulfillment.
My eyes are drawn to my bed where my cell phone sits. I had deliberately turned it off so as to avoid distractions as I wrote. But now that I'm finished writing for the day...
Retrieving it, I turn it on and am welcomed by the sound of consecutive incoming messages. By the time my phone stops ringing and vibrating, the text messages have totaled to 20. Wow. Unsurprisingly, in typical best friend thoughtfulness, 3 are from Aya, all asking about how I was doing, while the rest of the messages are...
-Sorry if today's task made you mad. It wasn't my intention.
-Akala ko makakatulong.
-Kari didn't do anything harsh, did she?
-Forget that last one. Of course she did. She's Kari.
-I apologize for her. But you know how she is, right?
-Just so you know, I haven't forgotten about that incident back in 2nd yr.
-And I see how insensitive I've been. Sorry talaga.
-Just got a call from Kari. ROFL. I applaud you, Sia.
-I knew you had it in you.
-LOL. Still can't get over it. Did you really tell her to "go to hell"?
-Hey Sia... Are you getting my texts?
-Pls. reply.
-OK. Aya called. Said she'd "kick my butt and my balls" if I ever put you under such torture again.
-Has your best friend always been that... violent?
-I'm flooding your inbox, aren't I? Sorry.
-You must be writing already. When you do read these, I hope you reply.
-I'll be making it up to you tomorrow.
Marc answers on the fifth ring. His voice sounds weary. He must have been sleeping.
"Hello?"
"Marc."
His tone immediately changes. "Sia... Listen, I'm really sorry for..."
"Tama na, Marc. I've had enough of your apologies. Um, I didn't mean to wake you but I really have to tell you something."
"I wasn't sleeping. I just... Never mind. Go ahead. I'm listening."
"Fast food is fine but I really can't stomach food at The Bistro."
Marc tries but fails not to laugh. "Okay. I'll keep that in mind."
"Oh, and another thing..."
"Yes?"
"Some sort of warning for future tasks would be really nice."
"You can count on that. After all, I value 'my butt and my balls'. Wouldn't want Aya to get unnecessarily violent."
"Okay then."
"Alright. I'll see you at 9 AM tomorrow. Good night, Sia."