PRESENT TIME 

I laughed when I opened my door and saw Donny standing outside with a champagne bottle in his hand, wearing a white hoodie and black sweatpants while I was in my pink pajamas and a measuring tape hanging around my neck.

It's already one in the morning and I'm working on sewing more of my clothes for my clothing line because I promised Jonathan I'd bring him a sample next week.

"What's with the champagne?" I ask, chuckling, raising my eyebrow at him. Donny is not the type of person to drink; he might have a little bit of wine like me but never really like drinking a lot nor would he show up on your front steps with a bottle of sparkling champagne.

I only started drinking when I started working because in a business party we have wine and champagne and in my mind I have to fit in with them, so I drink. It was my first drink but I don't go beyond my limits; I've never been drunk—I only limit myself to four glasses. Even if I had my first drink, I just never got accustomed to the taste of any alcoholic beverages.

"Mom called," Donny uttered, and I can see in his eyes that he wasn't expecting their call and how annoyed he is; he can't look at me straight, bracing for the next sentence coming out from his mouth. "I was elated when she called; I haven't seen her for five months and I last heard from her and Dad almost two weeks ago and when she called, I thought she was only asking how I was holding up just like before but there was something that she said that I wasn't prepared to hear."

I can see him breathing in and out; I step aside and say, "Come in, Donny." I sense the next thing he'll see is not something he braced himself for and that he needed a friend this moment. I closed the door when he went inside and followed him on the way to the kitchen island, where we poured the champagne in each of our wine glasses.

"What's going on?" I questioned as he sipped the wine already when I sat across him.

It's unusual for him to show up on my frontsteps at one in the morning bringing a sparkling champagne and jugging it down before I could even drink mine. "Mom called awhile ago and she's asking me if I have a plan to settle down or if I'm seeing anyone at the moment," Donny started, putting his glass down. "She wanted me to get married—I'm only twenty-five and my parent's never pressured me into settling down until now; Dad wanted that me to go out there because it's been four years since I had someone."

I nodded, listening attentively to him as I sipped my wine, feeling the burn in my throat and immediately placed it down. "What did you say?"

"I told them that I don't want to get married yet and that I went on a date last week," he answered. Its been a week since we last set up each other on a blind date. I've been so busy with sewing and sketching my designs that I forgot we had an agreement. "I asked them what's gotten into them that they have to bring the when will I settle down card."

"They never pressured you into going on a date four years ago; why now?" I inquired. "Is it really necessary that by the time you reach twenty-five you must be financially stable, in a stable relationship that's on its way into marriage life?"

"We're Filipino, Cy; that's their mindset," he reminded, sipping his wine again.

"Oh, that's right!"

"But I'm mad that the reason my parents said that was because Valerie called them." Donny's tone is laced with agitation and annoyance. I haven't heard Valerie's name for over four years now; she's been the ex-girlfriend for three years. "We haven't had any conversation since last month—she messaged me out of nowhere that she misses me and that she wants me back, and I presumed she's merely drunk during that time but for her to call my parents? She crossed the line."

Valerie Acosta never liked me when Donato dated her four years ago—even when they broke up, she constantly rolled her eyes on me when I'm with Zachary, as she's a cousin of Amy Belle Acosta—one of Zachary's best friends, and all I can say is those two cousins have the same feather in terms of disrespecting me and my relationship with Zachary.

"What did Valerie say to your parents?"

"That I've been ignoring her message and call for a month," he responded, pouring wine on his glass and I haven't seen him like this—he's always smiling and welcoming; now he's just flustered and upset. "That she's been reaching out for me in hopes for reconciliation and starting over now that we're twenty-five and had more life experiences. And how second chances and second time around are sweeter than the first one. She even said she's willing to leave her job in New York and be with me here in London; she's fucking delirious."

"She said that?" I chuckle, shaking my head. "She's even more delirious than I remember." Valerie loves to waste her time messaging me that I should stay away with Donny because she'll marry him and that she hates my guts—I ignored all her messages and just laugh at her approaches to me.

"Yes," he nodded, and I widen my eyes when I realize something. His brow furrowed. "You alright?"

"Has Valerie really been reaching out to you for a month?"

"Yes, why?" 

"You sneaky little bitch," I chuckle, sipping the last remaining wine from my glass. "Is that why you agreed with me last month to set each other up on a blind date just for you to get away with Valerie?"

"Um," he contemplated for a moment to answer my question—he's embarrassed from how his cheeks turn red and I wanted to laugh but I restrained myself from doing so. "Presicely, yes. I wanted to get away from her and I think it's a fun way to shut her up."

"I knew there's a catch on why you agreed to it," I laugh, and that moment Donny's mad expression from earlier vanishes as his lips turn upward from the sight of me laughing at him; he's eyes were gleaming with blissfulness. "Oh, I didn't expect that from you."

"Well, I am a mysterious man."

"Sure," I chuckles and pour another champagne on my glasses, whisking the problems away. Maybe to other people, Donny is a mysterious man—he gives that aura—is untouchable and rarely talks, but not to me; in my eyes, he has radiant sunshine that I can be safe in his arms and he listens attentively and talks a lot—I guess he's only that to someone he's comfortable with.

"Do you still want to continue our little setting each other up on a date?" He asked, eyes wandering around the vicinity and seeing my sketch pad scattered on the ground. He shut his eyes and realized something. Look back on me; his expression softens. "Shit, you're busy; I forgot about that you're working on your clothing line. I'm sorry, I should have called. I was just upset about my parent's call and I wanted to see you and talk about this and I didn't even bother texting you or thinking you're awake at this hour and why are you even awake at one in the morning? Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"Woah, calm down, Donny," I soothe the back of his hand. "You don't have to say sorry for being here at one in the morning; you're my best friend, Donny and I don't care if you will be knocking on my door with more champagne, wine, vodka, or even beer. I'll let you in and we'll talk about the things that are bothering you and I will listen to you for hours. You've been with me in my entire life, listening and comforting me through all the downs in my life and you didn't leave me and I'm always going to be here with you, Donny and I don't care if I'm sleeping at one in the morning or three in the morning; I will wake up and let you in my apartment."

"Well, I'm lucky to have you then."

"Yes, you are," I nodded, flashing a smile. "And oh, the only thing I'm awake at this hour is because I'm working on my clothing line and I'm honestly glad you are here; I need to take a break from sketching and sewing anyway."

"Do you want a chocolate cake?" He asked out of nowhere, and I immediately nodded as if it shouldn't be a question. "I know you didn't have any ingredients and I'm sure there's a convenience store open at this hour. I'll be back and I'll bake a chocolate cake."

He stood up from his seat and gave me a quick kiss on my temple—it happened so fast that we didn't register it quickly and we just laughed at it to dissolve the tension rising.

He left my apartment and the kiss on the temple was quick yet soft; we didn't do that kind of gesture for six years now as a respect of our respective partners at that time and I guess now we can do it again—it was a friendly one yet it soothed my worries in life.

Almost two hours passed by, and Donny came back from the convenience store with two bags—he's placing them on the top of my kitchen island and he gazes at me, "You can continue sketching and sewing your clothes for your clothing line and I will call you as soon as it's done."

"Alright, thank you." I smiled at him and went back to my living room, picking papers along the way that I'd tossed for the last five hours.

It was a quiet dawn as Donny is currently baking a chocolate cake and I opened my sketchpad to continue the dress I've been working on—I don't have a design yet and I've been staring at it for almost five hours wondering if this is the right track for me because even with a simple design for a dress, I couldn't think of the perfect design for it, and maybe I wasn't cut out to be a fashion designer.

"You alright?" The voice of Donny rang in my ears as he placed a glass of water. His eyes soften, worried about me. I merely flashed a smile and nodded, not wanting to say anything about my dilemma of being a fashion designer. "You sure?"

"I'm sure," was all I could say. He wasn't convinced but didn't press me into it; he merely nodded. "You better go back to baking my chocolate cake, Donny."

"I will," he chuckles and goes back to the kitchen as I begin to continue sketching and sewing, enjoying the solitude of the dawn with laughs with my best friend, whom we whisk our problems with champagne and chocolate cake.