One

I have been drinking a lot at bars and night clubs in the city and I don't know what else to do about it. Last night my college friends and I decided we could just hang out and talk about our own personal lives. It didn't matter if one of us had been out of the loop with what's going on at work or if one of us already had plans of settling down with that one special person we were supposed to be with. One of my guy friends claimed he recently took someone to a high-end hotel with him after his meeting went well with his other co-workers on duty and some supervisors who are well-aware of some of the crazy situations he's been getting himself into. His boss couldn't quite pinpoint why he's just all about random women and not so much about the work he's supposed to be doing. But I would assume guys are like that sometimes—feral animals who are unpredictable and have a lot of hunger for adrenaline rush and alcohol and perhaps drugs that constantly overwhelm the body and you wouldn't be able to prevent more from coming into your system.

Most of my friends would say that they don't have concrete plans. If they say they have something in mind that they have always wanted to do, their partners would turn on them and say that they're lying. We couldn't be that insufficient, stubborn, and lazy. I understand where they're coming from. They didn't have a lot to work with after college. People can get harsh. It's not always the fault if they keep coming back and requesting that their behaviors and attitudes should be consistently checked and monitored.

Money has its limits. They tend to run out faster than car fuel. We need them for everything in our lives and we just can't live with out it. Speaking of getting drunk, water certainly wasn't helping me become sober. It just made my migraine worse than it ever was before. I threw up by the balcony and some of the gardeners from below began staring at me, signalling me that all the beer I've been drinking just permanently got out of my system.

My family is old money rich. They've inherited properties and businesses that have helped in sustaining and maintaining our expensive lifestyles. I hadn't even thought of taking over one of our family businesses because I wasn't a business-minded person. I was more into computers. My bachelor's degree in information technology wasn't doing me any real favors—at least for now it wasn't doing me any real favors. Even banks couldn't be bothered to take me in no matter how much I begged.

My older sisters had to take over the family business. They've hired people just to make sure that business keeps going. We had a resort that had been flocked over by some tourists. And one of the tourists that went and visited our family resort I had ended hooking up with.

She caught my interest right away. She didn't seem that interested, but I've managed to convince her that I could somehow give her whatever she wanted. Her beauty was something that drew me in instantly, and I couldn't help but wonder why we had do crash and collide like two vehicles meeting up on the streets and it would just end up becoming a complete accident.

She was this young woman who had so much going on in her life. She was about to get married to an aspiring entrepreneur, permanently leave her corporate job back in Idaho in the United States, and settle in the Philippines for good. More specifically settle in Subic with him and his wealthy family for good. He had to have grown up with a silver spoon in his mouth. Women probably come to him naturally. He didn't have to put in the work.

I remember this one time we were kissing in one of the restroom stalls. Everything smelled like one the lavender scented air fresheners you have in your car. There were no other people around except for us, so we carried on with our rendezvous. Her lips felt soft on me and her breath reeked of alcohol and some gum that I wasn't familiar which flavor it was.

"Greg," she said in between breaths. She was panting as she started giving me kisses on my neck. "Let's head over to my hotel room. We can have the whole place to do whatever we feel like doing. Especially if it's only for tonight."

I didn't want to pass up on the offer and so I agreed, "We can take this to your room then." We were about to resume kissing when I abruptly told her, "No drinking this time. You know how many times I'd have to see people like you barf all over the place without any warning."

"Whatever you say," she said, softer this time. "You know I've been trying to stay off alcohol. My family would've taken me into rehab if I continued on with it."

A while later, I found myself on top of her, exploring the sensations that I haven't felt before. I've gone out with several girls (who were either tourism or nursing majors) when I was also studying for my degree back in university. None of them were this good or will ever be this good in bed. But my memory has been bad since I've taken into careful consideration that drinking was taking some of my problems away. Not all of them, but some of them. Truth is, I didn't have complete control over the things I do and the words that come out of my mouth.

I've kissed every single corner of her body. She didn't flinch one time when I put it inside of her. I've given her head multiple times, and as a joke, she volunteered to give me head, and because of that, she did end up offering the best possible fan service I could wish for.

We kissed more than enough times to have me panting and cursing out all the stress and exhaustion I've been constantly put under these past few weeks. My parents, specifically my dad, has really been pushing me to always do my best, even when I don't feel like doing anything about it. Igniting a fire within me was one thing, but having to be pressured to always do the 'right thing' had automatically left me scratching my head. Not because I was confused, but it sort of was a coping mechanism for me to not bottle up everything inside.

We were laying side by side, discussing topics we wouldn't normally talk about. She said she has always been a rebellious person. She had almost dropped out of school but decided it would be best to continue on with her education. She got a somewhat questionable degree that she didn't end up using and had to save up for a house that most people around her age couldn't afford. When she got up and flew all the way here, she met someone whom she thought she could be with for a long time. Because she was highly free-spirited and wild, she couldn't imagine herself ever getting married. For her, it's always a test of time. Whether or not she wanted to take things serious or just do whatever for the sake of fun.

"I do like being around here," she said, taking her eyes off me as she stared at her feet. "Back in America it's always just work, home, then meet up with people at social events. Then volunteering for animal shelters and homeless shelters. My family calls me every once in a while, but I've always been completely on my own. I guess I was granted freedom early on in life."

I kept listening to her. Her hair glistened as sweat rolls down her forehead. She's always had the charm and charisma I've always admired.

"What about you?" she asked. "Don't tell me you just sit there and face your computer all day long."

I hesitated to come up with a decent answer. Then I ended up saying, "I'm young. I can fuck around like no one's watching. For now, I'm doing good."

"You know, I've been there," she said. "Feeling lost...not knowing exactly what to do. You get your head stuck in places where you wouldn't expect it to get stuck in."

I kissed her again. I didn't even bother holding back. "You sure are the most irresistible person I've met. Not a lot of men and women can compare to you. Not that they weren't beautiful or handsome. They just don't have the kind originality that you have."

She sighed. "I guess I'm one of a kind. But I'm still ordinary in a lot of ways."

I pulled her closer. "Tell me about it then."

The smell of her perfume had instantly reminded me of one of those girls who had dumped me before. She didn't feel the need to apologize after rebuffing my efforts of wooing her. Eventually I learned that she had been going out with one of my blockmates from college, and their relationship was far from being completely innocent.

They couldn't keep it secret that they had eloped and moved somewhere out of the country. It was a huge risk for then to take considering they weren't earning those high digit salaries that keeps getting sought after by young people.

"I'm still continuing to work hard," she began, moving herself in the direction I want her to be at. "Not because I want to make people proud. But I think it's more along the lines of making myself totally satisfied with the things I've been doing and currently up to pursuing in the long run."

"That's great. I'm almost positive things will work out for you."

"Do you think we would've been better off together?" she asked. "If we could just run away and not think about the people who are judgmental all the time..."

"I'll have to think about that," was all I could manage to say. Every word she said was starting to sink in. "But I could fall for other people. What else can I tell you? Love is love."

"You're weird."

"I would like to believe that I am, but I actively refuse that there's only one gender I want to go by."

"I should probably marry you instead," she said while trying to stifle a laugh. "But for now, all I could do is dream and hope that things would get better before they get even worse than before."

"I couldn't propose to you." I couldn't dare look straight at her without having to feel like all the spotlight has been casted towards my direction. "And even if I did, it would still feel empty or meaningless-"

"All that matters is that we do care about each other deeply." She forced me to look straight at her in the eyes. She had those eyes that keeps you locked in no matter how much you look away from them. "It doesn't matter if you have a ring or don't have a ring."

"We could talk more tomorrow," she continued. "I could kiss you all day even if that meant not going back. It felt more liberating to be with someone like you."

I hesitated then let out a sigh, "Then what about your fiancé?"

"I still love him," her voice sounded brittle. "But all I could think about is being with other people...like being with other people has been shifting my perspective on dating and relationships as well as marriage. And probably the things you do with your partner in intimate places. Loving is hard, but when you do reach for someone, you'll do whatever it takes to get to them."

"Even if it meant breaking a promise to someone else?" I pondered. I shifted while sitting on the bed. My ass was starting to hurt. Somehow I couldn't be bothered to put a cushion underneath me. "They always say that cheaters never win. But I figured, it might have something to do with the fact that people can be so stubborn and always put first their desires that somehow make them out to be one of the most selfish yet the most selfless of people. It's a dichotomy that we see that people have the tendency to turn a blind eye over."

"Good point," she gave a nod. "But we're just never perfect. We always fuck up, we forgive, we trample, we say the worst when it's too late..." she went silent before resuming, "Humans are unbelievably complex that our own emotions get the best and worst of us. It's like slicing something open to find layers and layers that help us in understanding that we all have layers. It's never just one-dimensional."

I decided to change the topic, "Should we fuck now? All this conversation is making me think one of us is showcasing the traits and characteristics of Socrates and Plato."

She laughed, and it made something inside me flutter, like a butterfly swarming an isolated bird cage. "You're funny. Of course we can fuck. Fucking means that we can just put everything aside and think about getting more condoms and birth control."

She's the angel that has made her way on my lap. As we were kissing for what felt like the hundredth or the thousandth time it had occurred, she began going down on me. I felt humiliated. Earlier I was erect, but now it had gone down so much that I couldn't get past the thought of having to fuck someone with something limp hanging in between my legs.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"Giving you the pleasure you deserve."

"I'm serious."

"Sucking you off," she said while her whole face ignited in flames.

"Beth," I said, "what the fuck are you doing?"

All this time I had forgotten to mention her name. She's Elizabeth Foley. A very sweet American girl full of ambition and stamina. When we were drinking heavily one time at the bar by the sea, all I could think of is her making me sound stupid by blurting out something that I haven't thought of actually saying out loud. Because I had never been the type of person to say my thoughts out loud. In my mind, I just felt so much secure and safer.

"Listen," she immediately got off of me. "do you really want to fuck? Because if you don't want to, we could drink for a while before heading to sleep."

"No, I'm good. Maybe we should just sleep."

"But I'm still drinking without you," she said, trying her best not to smirk at me. "Although I did promise I wouldn't drink, but since you declined the invitation that we fuck passionately together, I might as well do whatever I want."

Beth left me alone in her hotel room. I looked around the place. Her clothes were everywhere. Whenever I looked past corners that were slightly dirty, I could almost imagine her leaning forward to pick up a piece of her own hair strand. She had blonde curls. Almost brunette, though I would still consider her a blonde woman.

She joined me in bed after getting her late night dose of cocktail. We had this bar by the sea. Whenever tourists felt like getting some fresh air, they would come over to the bar, strike a conversation with one of our resort's hospitable bartenders, and have their casual drink of choice. My sisters have always imagined it would be best to have a place where visitors would feel more welcome and feel more at home while taking a vacation at the resort.

"Fuck. I fucking forgot that I drank so fucking  much," she muttered to herself as she joined me under the covers. "Dave has been calling me. He said something went wrong..." Before she finish what she was saying, she immediately went to sleep. And just like that, I've never seen her looked so peaceful. She could've been talking about her fiancé and that he didn't know she was fucking me or that I was fucking her on this bed.

The next morning, we actually ended up fucking. I had thrusted myself into her. I didn't pause to stop and catch my breath. She was dead set on making sure that this wouldn't be the only time that we would fuck so desperately that we would just lose all our minds in the process. She went on top of me, and pushed herself in so deep that I was afraid that my dick could break in two halves.

"You feel so good," I felt like I was going to choke as I said it. "You're fucking great at what you're doing."

Adrenaline rushed through me and I've never felt more energized. It reminded me of the times back in college I would invite girls to various hotels so we could go stream some random movies and fuck for a while. We've gone out on dates. I was always the one who paid. The girls I had been with couldn't afford to pay the bill. They always told me it's always the guys who had to be in charge of paying for the whole meal.

"Damn, I didn't know you like rough sex," she teased me. She was catching and holding onto every single moment whenever her orgasm kicked in. She kept bouncing like she hadn't done this in a long time. "I honestly couldn't believe you have this much energy in you to go fuck someone. And I guess that's one of the things I like about you."

"Because of how much power my lower bottom has?"

She's beside me now, looking deep into my eyes before averting her gaze onto some parts of the room. "Because of how good you fuck."

"You're the first person who ever told me that."

She suddenly got up from the bed and started tying her hair. "Good compliment. I must be your favorite person."

"I didn't mean it that way."

"You mean it that way."

"I hate having arguments," I said. "I always ran away from home a lot. I have parents who fight. My sisters were too traumatized to speak up. Everything's fucked up."

"Why do you have to be so dramatic?"

"Am I being too dramatic?"

"Not at all."

"I have to go back to the city," Beth told me. "We've been fucking each other too long and it's making everyone around my fiancé's family very suspicious."

"Thirty minutes isn't that long," I insisted. I was still covered by the blankets at that point. The air conditioning unit in some of the rooms that we had at the resort could go up to unreasonable freezing temperatures. "We were having the best time in our lives. What's more to ask?"

"You can't be serious." Beth started packing up most her of things. She said that she's always been busy for most of her life. It was about time she finally gets to have some quality time for herself. "And I'm still getting married." She pointed at her ring finger. "See this? My man has been saving up for so long to get me the ring I've been wanting ever since we started dating."

"It didn't matter to him that we fucked?"

"Do you really think he's gonna care that much?"

"As a man, I would prefer that my partner stays loyal to me. That's when I know for sure that she's the one for me."

I happened to catch her rolling her eyes. I would like to say that she's being hyperoptimistic. At her age, she probably thought it was still normal for her to act like she's still in high school. She had told me that one of the guys from her old high school in her home state tried contacting her after she was done with university. She immediately broke all contact with him after finding out he had been using her as a rebound. He'd been in and out of jail due to his recklessness on one of the interstate highways. It was rumored that he had been abusing his girlfriend. I couldn't exactly figure out if it was verbal, physical, or mental abuse. Alcohol abuse is another thing. Most times it's not worth bringing into our conversation.

"I'm no way loyal to anyone. But would I still be with them? Without a single doubt in my mind I would still want to be with them. It's like keeping something worth treasuring more than anything in this world. Would I have changed things? I'm still not sure if I would've changed things. For now, I just want to love somebody. I could love an inanimate object or an animal if I really wanted to. If love isn't the cure to depression and longing and pain and rejection, I don't even know what is."

"You've always got something to say. Not many girls I've been with are willing to fully express themselves. As if they're scared to show their vulnerabilities."

"Couldn't blame them. Not everyone is comfortable with expressing their own truths."

She continued, "I've had sex with so many people besides the person I'm already engaged to. It's as if sex lets me connect with someone and become a part of them in some strange way...I couldn't really explain it." She paused. She had already packed every single one of her belongings in her suitcase.

The door to her personal bathroom was still wide open. She'd forgotten to unplug chargers and her hairblower that was a gift from her ex-boyfriend. I had used her bathroom multiple times throughout the early hours of the day. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't let go of all my urine. It's as if something was preventing it from coming out. Those random erections I experienced are the some of the reasons why I had been feeling so much pain on my dick.

Before she left, she told me we could stay in touch. It's either we communicate by sending emails or chat messages. We had been talking for hours and hours at the resort lobby. Her fiancé called if he could pick her up and take her wherever she needed to go. It's one of the days where I felt completely hollow and lost after she got up and took a swing for leaving her room the same way as it had been before she even occupied it.

Now it has been two years. No, it has been four fucking years. She promised that she would update me with her personal life. However I haven't been getting any updates within those three years. My assumption is that their wedding plans finally happened and that they're now living as the perfect married couple.

I went scrolling on Facebook a week ago and saw a strange advertisements for baby clothes. Or baby merch. Everything reminded me of a baby, so I just went with that. The woman in there reminded me of Beth. Except her hair was much shorter. And her clothes were dull and faded. I remembered she liked her bright and colorful sundresses and shorts. I guess her style must've change a lot since then. Being a full-time mother and wife must be a lot harder to deal than being someone's favorite person to fuck with.

My immediate thought was, has she been getting all the dick she wanted? Because I knew her well enough that she has to have some sort of intimate activity with another person to feel much more herself. She can get more in tune with her inner feelings and emotions if she were to engage with them in more intimate ways.

I just got out of bed. Recently I'm beginning to realize the full impact of not having a proper job in a long time. There's a part of me that doesn't want to depend constantly on other person. But at the same time I couldn't bring myself to do the things that would help me get going more often in a single day.

It's been long since as a family unit we got together and have proper meal on the dining table. The dining table we have has been passed down for many generations. But we always manage to make it look new as much as possible just to hide the fact that it's antique furniture that we've kept for so long.

"So do you plan on getting married?"

I almost choked on what I was eating. I don't remember being put in a situation where I felt I could feel my insides churn and my head hurting simultaneously.

"Pardon?" I couldn't stop myself from further expressing my emotions. It didn't take a while for my dad to respond to what had morphed into my face.

"I said, do you have any other plans," he says, clearer to my ears this time. "I can't have you guys walking around my property without having anything else going on in your lives. Life may be tough, but there just has to be something else. Like anything else you're pushing yourselves on fully committing and dedicating yourselves to for the rest of your lives."

"Dad, do you think you're being too hard on Greg?" That was one of my sisters. She had to stop eating just to get her point across.

Janna managed to graduate with bachelor's, master's, and Doctor of Philosophy degrees from university with flying colors. But I didn't even see her study that much. I do know for a fact she's keen on memorizing textbooks and taking notes all the time. During her high school years, she had at least three people going after her. Not because she was at the top of her class. But because she was gifted. And I'm not saying she has wonderful talents, but because she had one of the best assets, at least, at one of the schools she was attending when she was young.

I would have to admit, we are no strangers to sex. We've all had our own risqué moments. But none of my sisters have admitted something to both of our parents that they absolutely needed to get out of the house as soon as possible.

"I'm just saying that he's getting closer to his thirties. But still he can't get a girl to stay with him. Is that too much to ask?"

Janna stays silent. If dad had talked to her like that, she would bring her guard down. I'm not used to seeing her like that. Normally she would have talkative tendencies.

"Dad, why can't you give any of us a break?" Lorraine says. "We've had all the time in the world to prove we're all worthy of something far greater than we have already achieved."

"I thought I've given you all the free time to really think about what you all wanted to do with your lives."

This really bothers me. No one knows what they actually wanted to do with their lives. People just string you along and you subsequently go along with them. I've met so many people who have worked so many dead end jobs. They didn't find much happiness in the jobs they were doing. Probably explains why they haven't really progressed that much.

It didn't matter if they had ended up fucking up their lives to the point of no return. I could say that we're in a highly privileged position. Most people would've given up studying because they think it is no longer financially feasible for them to do so. Meanwhile we could do more with our education. Lengthening our skills and knowledge for the benefit of our own and perhaps for the benefit of pursuing opportunities within the workforce in the kind of society that we live in.

I didn't find any passion in studying. All I could think about throughout my entire educational journey are how to find connections and how to amends with annoying and demanding people. I hadn't imagined before that I would make it this far. There were many times where I felt above people and so many times where I felt people were stepping on me unconsciously.

Maggie has been busy scrolling on her phone when I went over to check what she was doing in our living room. I remember having to meet so many guys who have dated her and who have hooked up with her and who were unashamedly invited to our house to get to know our parents personally. I used to believe Maggie was the favorite child. She was considered the prettiest and the most advanced when it came down to academics. She didn't finish her accounting degree and just went on to follow her dreams of creating music. She wasn't always the best singer, however she was often convinced and persuaded to keep seeking vocal lessons. She even told me one time she wanted to attend university in Barcelona, but our dad kept insisting that she just study in Switzerland and get her student visa approved,

"Don't tell me you're meeting up with some guy again," I say to her. Maggie didn't respond. I might've fucked up my chances of having a decent conversation with her.

"I was just busy checking to see if any of my demos have been approved," her voice sounds a lot harsher than I would've initially expected it to sound like. "I want international labels to recognize my talent."

"Sure you do. You've got everything going in your life. I don't see any other reason why labels wouldn't sign you as one of their artists."

"They always say I'm shitty as an artist. Maybe I shouldn't have put so much effort into studying. I should've concentrated more on making music instead."

"Making music doesn't make you a lot of money," I say to her, matter-of-factly. "But by being an accountant, you get to earn more than the average salaryman."

"Are we really having this conversation?" She gets off her phone and looked at me. She didn't have the best eyesight, but I could tell she's trying her hardest to get my attention. "I clearly didn't ask for your opinion. You should've sealed your mouth closed. My art has to be worth something, anything."

I sigh. "You should've figured that out years ago. Most people around your age would've started investing. Or getting married is another option. But people like fun casual relationships more than actual fixed arrangements."

"When was the last time you fucked somebody?"

"Are you fucking serious? You should've leaned more on our topic of conversation."

"I am fucking serious."

Maggie has her bangs parted so that her eyes would somewhat look visible. I could tell her fixated gaze on my wrinkled polo and denim pants was starting to wear me thin. Like I've been cut open with a box cutter.

I sigh once more. "You know, I don't really get along with women. I've had sex with them, but that's about it. It never got to the point of it being more serious, more committed. Every string feels like a loose end."

"Try to be more specific. Who was the person you're hanging around with? Can't be certain by all accounts that you're content with only one person."

"Elizabeth?"

"Who the fuck is this Elizabeth, anyway?" Maggie asks.

"Probably the last girl I actually had a great time with," I answer. "She's very much head on with giving me the time and space to decide on whatever we wanna do in the bedroom or in the restroom or in the shower areas. She doesn't fumble a lot and is true to herself."

"You must've loved her. I don't get to hear you talk about one of your girls like that before."

"I did love her, but I just can't be in a relationship with her."

"And why is that?" Maggie had to adjust herself.

I can't find the right words. Deep down, I still have some issues to move past and get myself all the therapy for in order to move in the direction that I have always wanted to go.