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"I'd like to apologize. I had no idea the situation could turn that awkward for you. Is your father—" Isaac shook his head as he drove through the main highway. "Has Ralph Villena always been that unsympathetic to his own son?"

Laurence kept silent. He glared at the road, still pissed at the young CEO for his unannounced appearance at their door. The urge to scold Isaac grew stronger, but the reality that their relationship now was no more than just a boss and his assistant led him to hold the feeling in. It would have been much simpler to say anything to the man if they were the same people from their teenage years, if he could still use his seniority in school to his advantage.

Isaac did not press. They continued through the busy night streets, lit by the lampposts and digital billboards, until they reached the Northern Integrated School of Perlientas.

As they stepped out of the car, Laurence tried to reacquaint his mind to the place, which had become almost unrecognizable to him. During their time here, small vendors from the neighborhood would bring their own tables to display their fresh green mangoes, caramelized sweet potatoes, hard-boiled quail eggs, and other organic snacks. Students would more often than not have their packed lunch then.

But now, fancy food establishments and internet cafés had replaced the couple of footstool palm trees and African tulips that used to occupy the wide lot across the school premises.

Laurence followed Isaac to the campus.

One alumnus raised his head in time to spot the pair entering the quadrangle. He tapped his friend, who was chatting with the other attendees, on the shoulder and whispered something to him. Not so subtle, the said friend also looked toward Isaac and Laurence before he returned to the conversation with the group.

Laurence guessed the guy must have informed the others about their arrival because, after a brief wave of buzzes, all eyes were suddenly on them. No sooner had they approached the registration than the people flocked to Isaac, like rats to the grain crops. They shook hands and offered the young conglomerate chief their phoniest smiles as they made efforts to flatter him.

Laurence blew a derisive breath, recognizing a few former classmates who'd once called Isaac a stuck-up brat heir of the old Fahlgren Company.

But look at these bootlickers now. Unable to stand watching their disingenuous behaviors for another second longer, he snuck off the scene while those two-faced people kept Isaac too busy to notice him. He brushed aside the small guilt that wriggled its way in him when he caught a glimpse of the young boss's thin-lipped disinterest.

Laurence wandered into the campus, hoping the place had not changed too much that he'd get lost around it. He stopped by the coffee vending machine near the stage and selected a macchiato. With the large cup of coffee in his hand, he rolled past the main pathway to search for the lecture areas.

Most parts of the NISP had been reformed, so the sight of their old classroom building, which didn't seem to have been altered so much aside from the fresh paint, provided Laurence a bit of comfort in its familiarity.

Despite that, he felt surreal. Because even though this had been the grandest building the school had when he'd been a student here, at present, it appeared the shabbiest compared to the other structures surrounding it.

Laurence went inside, a bit disappointed to discover a few alumni already loitering in the corridor. And here he'd been hoping he could hide in the place for a while.

Not that there's anyone else to avoid, but that punk, he mused and took a sip of his coffee. In fact, he found it odd how there hadn't been a single soul to approach him since he and Isaac had arrived. It was somehow telling of what kind of "friends" Florence Villena had had in high school, and Laurence thought it might have been another similarity he shared with the guy.

He climbed the stairs to the second floor where the lights were no longer on and only the scattered lamps on the school grounds shed a little brightness in the hall. The absence of people in that part of the building pleased him. Choosing the space in front of the last room to have a quick rest, he propped his back on the windowsill and continued to relish his coffee.

"What's the fuss in there?"

Laurence would have tuned out the loud voices outside if not for the next course of the exchange.

"Nothing much. Just people shoving their business cards to some tycoon. Do you, guys, remember that sonofabitch kid, Isaac Leonard Fahlgren?"

"Dude, who doesn't know him? That bratty heir to a big company when we were in high school?"

Laurence shifted around and peeked over the window. Right below his location, a group of five gathered at the concrete benches and a table. The asker of the first question was a woman, while the other two who'd spoken after her were dickheads. Another lady and a man accompanied them.

Empty cans of liquors littered the Bermuda grass and the bushes around them, while on their table were a newly opened bottle of gin and a pitcher of juice.

"Now, now, let's not call the fella those names. I don't remember him being so nasty back in the old days," the third guy said. Someone with a sense, at least.

One of the assholes snorted. "He's a rich kid. Of course he's a haughty spoiled brat who's only good at making other people do his dirty works and acting like he's better than everyone else."

"Took the words out of my mouth." The other dickhead sniggered. "I never liked them wealthy folks. Anyway, I heard he's changed his name to Isaac Ruiz, and he established a corporation that knocked down that big company you were talking about into bankruptcy."

"Oh? But, do you guys know he's the biggest donor for the newest buildings here in our dear alma mater?" Their second female friend joined the conversation. "He didn't even graduate here, did he?"

"Yeah, just the first year and a few months of second year."

"Then wasn't that nice of him to give back despite not spending his whole high school here?"

"Well, he's got money to show off with. I'm more surprised he knows how to look back to his roots."

"Really. And the nerve to do that to his father, the ungrateful bastard. If it wasn't for his old man's wealth, he wouldn't have gotten to where he's now in the first place."

Laurence scowled as he deliberated whether to stay and carry on listening to the whole stupid chatter or leave. He realized these jerks might have remained the same. Years had passed, and they were still the bitter idiots who hated someone for the sole reason that the person had things they could have only wished for themselves.

He controlled his grip, careful not to scrunch up the paper cup and spill the warm drink. The unkind words about Isaac pissed him off so much.

What did these morons know? They talked as if Isaac had always had it easy. As if all of what he'd achieved so far were thanks to the other people, and the other people alone. As if he'd never had to struggle to obtain anything he desired.

What did they know about what Isaac had gone through until now?

Laurence gave off a short, humorless laugh. What do I know?

"Seriously, brothers, are you sure you're not just jealous of the guy?" asked the smarter of the three men, his voice pulling Laurence's focus back to them.

"Jealous of what? His money is the only thing he's got going for him."

"He's handsome though," one of the women said. "And based on his accomplishments, he must have been smart too."

In a mocking tone, Idiot One said, "Handsome, sure. Hey, bet you guys never heard that interesting rumor about him. It's pretty known among the leaders of rival companies. My boss hates his guts too, and he told me that interesting story."

"Spill it then, if it's that interesting."

"He's fucking gay, and I wouldn't put it past that bitch to have slept around with prospective male investors to get contracts."

"Now that's news." Idiot Two guffawed. "So is he the type who enjoys taking it through his ass or he be doing the banging?"

"How should I know? It disgusts me just thinking about it."

Despite their friends' request to dial it down, the scumbag duo pushed on insulting Isaac.

"Hey, hey, don't be a stick-in-the-mud." Idiot Two almost choked on his laughter, and Laurence kind of wished he had. "Hey, I've got a terrific idea. You think if I apply to his company, I'll get to a high position in exchange for giving him a couple of good fucks?"

The final straw snapped, freeing the devil from Laurence's conscience. He tipped the paper cup in his hand to let the warm coffee gush down. And bathe the moron's head.

That oughta wash your polluted brain.

Laurence withdrew from the window just as the chortles below morphed into a shriek. He crumpled the cup, walked to the trashcan at the foot of the stairs, and threw the crushed paper container away.

He would have liked it better if he could do a similar thing to the other idiot, but he'd be contented with the cry of "Who the fuck's there?" too.

Leisurely, he took the flights, aiming to get to a particular place in the building. By the time he stood in front of the closed door, which led to the rooftop, his anger had subsided.

Laurence turned the doorknob, but it was locked. He gazed over his shoulder to double-check that the area was clear of eyewitnesses before he extracted his phone from his pocket and fished around for Florence's driver's license in his wallet.

Turning the phone's flashlight on, he held the knob once again and slid the PVC ID into the tiny gap between the door and the frame. He grinned as his ears caught a satisfying click.

The view of the full moon, a gust of February air, and nostalgia welcomed him on the rooftop. He approached the fence, which he noted had become safer for students because of the tall woven steel wires that had been installed on top of the low wall.

As Laurence looked down, his heart sank when he could not find the garden he used to admire from up here. He could tell that even if it were daylight, there was no seeing the canvas of flowers anymore since more school structures had been built in place of it.

A whistle above grabbed his attention. Laurence pointed his eyes skyward. A single glow soared before it boomed and scattered colors through the heavens. And then, another. And then, more.

The pyrotechnics reminded Laurence it was also Chinese New Year today, but what posed a sad smile on his lips were his father's unforgettable words about these pretty lights. Like the morning glories his mom loved, fireworks signified the eventual fading of all great things in the world.

Too immersed in the scene, Laurence lost track of his surroundings.

"I knew you'd be here."

The statement in the middle of the loud cracks surprised Laurence, but he acted calm about it. He could identify that voice anywhere.

He did not turn to show his acknowledgement, neither did he edge away when Isaac stood next to him.

"I was certain the door would be locked. Did you pick it, Rence?"

"I didn't," he said in a deadpan. Technically, it was the truth, too.

Once the fireworks display ended, Laurence closed his eyes and reveled in the silence. A ballad song played in the background. As he made out the lyrics about the singer's life journey, he reminisced about a few events during the days he'd spent in this school.

It was exactly on this rooftop where he'd stumbled upon Isaac for the first time. Right in this place, he'd nicknamed the younger lad 'Ice.' It was here where he'd promised him a gift of a calathea plant for his future success. For his new beginning.

They'd had a few fond memories in this place, and Laurence could not help but wonder what would have happened to them if they didn't get separated, if those moments they'd had together did not disperse like fireworks in the sky.

"Do you remember the first time we met here, senior?" Isaac's voice, despite its quietness, broke through the other man's reverie.

A brief, bittersweet chuckle slipped out of Laurence's lips while his mind conjured up the image of the young lad by the fence.

"How could I not? Ain't no way I'd forget how you looked like a lost puppy on that day," Laurence said in a murmur.

All details had remained clear in his head. The shock in those beautiful green eyes when he'd called Isaac's attention. The guilt in that punk's handsome face when his reason for being there had been busted. The timid complaint to cover up his fluster.

How could Laurence not remember?

"You were honestly so cute back in high school, but now you've grown into this infuriating smartass that you are. What even—"

Laurence froze, his eyes flying open once his brain caught on to what he was doing. He gulped and faced Isaac in a slow motion.

"I mean, I..." He was ready to fire another excuse, but Isaac's soft gaze weakened his resolve to protect his lies.

"So, it's really you," the younger man said under his breath, a gentle smile complementing his tone.

It was a smile far different from his proud smirks these recent days. A smile similar to the meek ones he'd tried to hide when they'd been teenagers. A peaceful smile that screamed of his true feelings at the moment.

Isaac seemed so happy, and Laurence could not find the will to shatter the hope in his radiant eyes. For the same sentiment, he was unable to move when the young boss closed the distance between them and pulled him into his arms.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't do something for you back then. I wanted to be there for you, but..." Isaac said, words muffled by emotions.

Laurence stiffened. He raised his hands, unsure whether to push Isaac or to reciprocate the hug or to console his former high school junior with a couple of pats on his broad back. In the end, he dropped all the options as he relaxed his shoulders and let his hands rest to his sides.

He just stood there, pliant, speechless, allowing Isaac to hold him for however long the young boss would please.

Ah, fuck, I knew it. It's harder to say no and get mad at this punk when he's being like this.

Thoughts swirled, but one thing became definite in Laurence's mind: there was no disguising himself from Isaac anymore.

"I'm sorry. I'm glad you're back, Laurence. I'm glad you're alive."

If there was left of the determination to not let Isaac in on the truth, the unusual shake of the young CEO's voice completely smashed it.

Laurence calmed his own nerves with the soothing fragrance of the other man's perfume and the warmth of his embrace. They stayed in that position for another minute, and when Isaac leaned away, he still wore the tender smile that filled his eyes with so many emotions. Regret. Relief. And perhaps, endearment. However, Laurence didn't want to delude himself so much about the last one.

"Will you not refute it anymore?" Isaac asked, some of the confidence returning to his demeanor.

Defeated, Laurence ran his fingers through his hair, no more caring if he'd mess it up. "What's the point? You never believed me before, you wily punk, and there ain't convincing you now after that slip," he muttered with a sour note. After all that denying in the past days, this was where he'd wound up still. He sighed. "I'm kinda tired of it anyway. I'm tired of hiding this secret to myself. It can get really lonely, ya know. Besides, I've known it would be much easier for me to get answers if I just ask you directly."

A momentary pause drifted.

Over the fence, Laurence stared at the roofs of the lower school buildings. "I've got a question. No, I've got lots of it, actually. For starters, what in the world had given you the idea it was me and not Florence Villena? It's just..." He shook his head in incredulity. "It's nuts. No matter if you saw a lot of my old traits in the new guy, in reality, and unless you're crazy, you ain't gonna believe a soul could transfer to another person's body. These craps happen only in the movies and some fairy tales."

Laurence shot his boss a glower. "Or are you actually that crazy to come up to a ridiculous conclusion?"

Isaac did not respond soon as he, too, observed the structures below.

The background music varied from mellow to louder rock songs. A woman spoke through the microphone, her voice reverberating through the sound system, to inform the attendees that the real program for the alumni homecoming was about to begin.

Another batch of fireworks display set off to the sky.

At last, Isaac said, "I would prefer to talk somewhere quieter. Would you mind if we get out of here?"