VIO

DAMON'S CASE is a strong argument on why extraterrestrial lifeforms, also known as aliens, do not visit our planet. I had to spell it out because some of you may not know the meaning of extraterrestrial. Why would they want to interact with organisms of inferior intellect? They'd be completely wasting their time.

This tragedy also demonstrated how easy and fast fake news—an outright lie or unverified info—could spread like the most contagious virus that could shake the world as we know it. It's like throwing a stone into a body of water, making ripples that disturb its calmness.

As a campus journalist and a future member of the media, it is my sworn duty to cure ignorance and stupidity by spitting facts in my news articles. Unfortunately, some people are hopelessly fact-resistant. Kahit gaano mo ipagdikdikan sa ga-munggo nilang utak ang katotohanan, hindi sila maniniwala. Kung ang katotohanan ay isang ahas na nasa kanilang harapan, ilang beses na silang tinuklaw nito.

Some facts aren't sexy enough. Some facts aren't arousing. People would try to find seducing alternatives that give them an erection or make their ovaries explode. And that could explain why some students in Clark University started to spew some theories that Cleo Petrarch, the once venerated campus queen, killed the campus king and her very own boyfriend, Damon Dominic.

Never did I write in my articles that Cleo is a suspect, but everyone started to treat her as such. They might have been reading my article from a parallel universe or they were just crazy theorists who had nothing better to do. She may be the most suspicious at the moment, given the circumstances, but she's only a person of interest.

Was I surprised that they didn't know the difference? No. It's like the to-ma-to versus to-mey-to debate for them. Different pronunciation but same spelling, so why bother at all?

So why did they concoct that theory in their narrow test tubes (a.k.a. their brains) and make some students sniff the fumes that got them addicted? Here are my thoughts:

First, Damon dying because of allergic reaction was totally anti-climactic. Parang naglalakad sa pedestrian lane ang isang karakter sa TV series o movie tapos bigla siyang nasagasaan ng bus. Some could argue that character deserved a better exit. He could have died a heroic death.

Wouldn't it be more appetizing to the students' palate if a campus titan like Damon was murdered instead of being taken down by peanut oil? If David blew some pepper powder into Goliath's eyes and the latter sneezed his brains out and died instantly, their battle wouldn't be as epic as we knew it today.

Second, a boyfriend killed by his girlfriend was a tragic plot that everyone would pay to watch if it's a movie. You may consider it a plot twist of the decade, especially if the couple's relationship was shown to be perfect. Cleo and Damon's relationship was not perfect, but it's a—what's the term that millennials and Gen Z use?—"couple goals." I was not a fan of their campus romance, but my reliable sources (see gossipers) told me that they're a perfect match. Sino ba'ng mag-aakala na may lamat pala ang kanilang relasyon?

Third, words of hatred spread faster than the speed of light. If you tell people about the good deeds of a certain person, it would echo within a small circle and only among those who cared. But if you tell people about the bad deeds that that person may or may not have done, it would reach every corner of the community.

Cleo was, unfortunately, a perfect target for a hate campaign. Hindi na kataka-taka para sa isang estudyante na may popularity gaya niya. Some of her detractors might have taken the opportunity to spread disturbing rumors about her, and some students naively drank those poisonous words. Because that's how the world works. Tell everyone that a celebrity is a nymphomaniac, and they would fall for it.

But don't get me wrong. While I insult the intelligence of these manipulative theorists and easily manipulated students with below average IQ, I am not a Cleo sympathizer. I always look at both sides. Huwag n'yo akong itulad kay Tony na hindi yata napapansin na biased na siya. Baka may pinainom sa kanya si Cleo kaya todo depensa siya rito? Could be a Kool-Aid with a mind-altering secret ingredient.

He may be preaching about the presumption of innocence, but let's not kid ourselves here. I know the real deal. He's using his other head, because jokingly, men have two: the one above and the one below. Guess which one he used?

Speaking of Cleo, the actions she took at the start of this Damon ordeal were really, really dumb. I could have used three really's in my previous sentence to match the number of times I shook my head, but you probably got my point already. Hindi na ako magtataka kung nag-deteriorate ang katalinuhan niya. Bilang volleyball player, ilang beses na sigurong natamaan ng bola ang ulo niya kaya naalog ang kanyang utak. That could have had some impact to her brain.

She could have answered the questions that the police may have and cleared herself of any suspicions, but she chose not to. What's worse? She dragged us into the mess by coming to us instead of the university police. She could have explained to them why she had to run. She could have shown them the text message that prompted her to flee. But she chose not to.

But she's not the only one to blame here. My housemates, who might have been abducted by aliens and replaced by intellectually inferior versions of themselves, agreed to let her stay and try to prove or refute her innocence. I got outvoted so I had no choice but to respect their decision.

Let me be clear: I was against the idea, not because I believed that Cleo was guilty, but because it's not our problem to solve. Our job was to report facts, not to play detectives trying to prove whether this person committed that crime or not. We do not need to dip our feet in the water and attract the sharks.

Pero Vio, pwede mong i-inform ang pulis na nasa apartment n'yo ang hinahanap nilang person of interest... kung gusto mo?

Indeed, I could. No one's stopping me from doing what I thought was best for my interest. My housemates and I did not sign a legally binding contract, nor do we observe the oath of Omerta where I couldn't betray them to the authorities.

But a question kept on bugging me since the moment Cleo asked if we could let her stay in our apartment: Why Tony? Why us? Idinahilan niya na hindi siya close kay Tony kaya malabong agad paghinalaan ang housemate namin na nagtatago sa kanya. That's a flimsy yet clever reasoning. But that could only work if the person she wanted to trust wouldn't rat her out to the police.

Maybe she knew that Tony couldn't simply turn her down. Maybe she chose to flip a coin and make a gamble if Tony's going to grant her request or not.

As a news writer whose curiosity was piqued by her actions, I would let her stay and observe her... until I could figure out if that's all there was to her reason for choosing Tony.

The morning after "we" decided to let Cleo play us like a fiddle—I mean, to be part of our virtually non-existent family, I got off my bed earlier than usual. May natanggap akong text message mula sa news editor ko. Said it was urgent so I went straight to the bathroom.

"Vio, mag-breakfast ka muna!" Emil invited me when I was fully dressed and got out of my room. My eyes cast a glance at him, Tony, and Cleo seated around the dining table. I overheard them discussing how our guest's sleep was and if a ghost made its presence felt.

I wasn't hungry and I had to get to the campus as soon as possible, so I declined by ignoring his kind invitation. Narinig kong tumulong ang bago naming kasama sa pagluluto ng agahan. She might have added something in the garlic fried rice—a pinch of magic dust or something—that could make me friendlier toward her. Apparently her charm was already working on Tony and Emil. I refused to be the next victim and decided to keep every iota of my rationality.

Sincerely I hoped that my two housemates made the right decision of letting her stay here.

Regarding the Damon case, here are the facts so far:

First, Damon's allergies got triggered through a clever method. Base sa interview ko kay Cleo, walang kinain na bawal sa kanya ang biktima. How his allergy attack started was still a mystery. Could be from a kiss. Could be from someone he shook hands with.

Second, his allergic reaction prompted Cleo—and Tony, who followed her—to grab the epinephrine auto-injector in the clinic. Keep in mind that was the only injector left, and Damon was fortunate enough to be its recipient. In retrospect, however, he was actually unfortunate.

Third, only two students got close to Damon's body while waiting for the epinephrine: Hadriana Hermosa and Antonette Arguelles, Cleo's classmates. Everyone around the victim, me included, kept a close eye on him. I could say with confidence that those two did not secretly inject anything into him.

Fourth, Cleo was the one who injected the supposed epinephrine into the victim. In our conversation yesterday, she mentioned that one of her teammates also suffers from allergies, so she learned how to use the injector.

Fifth, only Cleo's fingerprints were found on the injector. Ayon sa university police, hinawakan din 'yon ng university physician nang in-inspect niya bago ang University Night. It's another mystery on why there was no other set of fingerprints on it.

Sixth, the injector's content was a lethal dose of potassium, not epinephrine. This raised the possibility that a switch happened. The only question was when.

Seventh, Cleo received a text message from an anonymous sender, telling her that she wouldn't be able to wash away the stain—that was Damon's murder—on her hands.

Eighth, Cleo fled when a university police officer visited her dorm and was about to ask her some questions. She also cut off communications with her friends and classmates. From what I heard last night, she only texted her bestfriend Hadriana to not worry about her.

Ninth, Cleo asked for Tony's help to hide from the authorities. She chose him because they weren't that close, which possibly meant less suspicions from the police.

These were the facts by the time that I left our apartment this morning. And reading my editor's message, there might be a new fact today.

"Good morning," I greeted as I entered the Clarion's editorial office. Some of our junior staffers greeted me back with a smile before they resumed their business. Sa laki ng HQ namin, pwedeng tumambay rito kahit na walang pinaghahandaang coverage o isinusulat na article.

How big was our editorial office? Fourteen meters by seven meters in area. Oh, sorry. The numbers might confuse you. Let's say, two college classrooms. Each major department—news, features, literary, sports, cartooning, and photojournalism—got their own cubicle. Each cubicle got their own large office table, at least five swivel chairs, and a Mac computer. At the back of the office was the "aquarium," known as the conference room where we sometimes hold our meetings. Next to it was a cubicle for the Clarion Triumvirate—editor-in-chief, associate editor, and managing editor—sometimes called the "Big Three."

The Clarion, being the official student publication, is one of Clark University's pride. We're some sort of a titan in the region, always ranking within the top three of every tertiary schools' press conference. We became the standard. You know you've become the standard when people are trying to imitate you. I was not bragging or exaggerating our achievements. I was merely stating facts. You could access our records for your reference.

Seeing that our pub could be a great advertising prop, the university administration became quite generous to us. Kung wala kaming inuuwing awards sa kada competition na sinasalihan namin, paniguradong wala silang pakialam sa amin. They allowed us to increase the publication fee in the annual tuition, gave us a large room, and granted us perks and privileges (such as scholarships).

The truth is, the admin was not really just proud of our successes. There's something else: They feared us. They're afraid that we might come after them. Pinagbibigyan nila ang mga request namin sa pag-aakalang tatanaw kami ng utang na loob. These coward powers-that-be thought we wouldn't bite the hand that feeds us. And they were right. The Clarion became lenient whenever the admin was involved in an issue. But that's a story for another time.

I went straight to the news department's cubicle on the left. Kumpara sa ibang cubicles, mas marumi ang mesa namin. May mga pakalat-kalat na papel na may mga pulang marka. Meron pa ngang isa na ginuhitan ng letrang X. There I found my editor who's facing the Mac computer, his fingers dancing over the wireless keyboard.

"Morning," I greeted, pulling a swivel chair and sitting on it.

Nicholas Nadal slowly turned his seat to me. His unkempt jet-black hair could give anyone the impression that a) he did not take a bath, b) he did take a bath but he hurriedly left his house, and c) he never saw a hair comb in his entire life.

"Got my text?" he asked, folding his arms.

I gave him a nod. "What's so urgent that you had to ask me to come early?"

"Nagbabasa ka ba ng Clark Converge?" He grabbed a folded newspaper from his desk and tossed it to my lap. "They published an article about the Damon case today."

The Converge is a local newspaper in New Clark City. While most broadsheets and tabloids only reported news of national interest, the Converge focused on the city updates. Do I regularly read their papers? Yes, until they became a propaganda arm of the city government.

My hands raised the newspaper, making the folded portion fall, and silently read the article.

FAMILY OF CU STUDENT CRIES FOR JUSTICE
Sixto Agustin

NEW CLARK CITY — The family of the Clark University political science student who allegedly died because of severe allergic reaction during an evening party has called for justice.

In a statement, the family of Damon Dominic said they still cannot believe what happened to their son.

"It's been three days since Damon's death, but we're still in denial. Hanggang ngayon, hindi pa rin malinaw sa amin kung ano ang nangyari sa kanya at paano nangyari 'yon sa kanya."

I stopped reading halfway since we already reported those details in our articles. What else was new? Nothing. "The family is still grieving over the death of their son. Wala namang kakaiba roon. Is this the urgent reason why you called me here?"

"Read the last paragraph."

My eyes landed their gaze on the part he pointed out.

The Dominic family will meet with university officials on Thursday morning. They declined to reveal the topic of their discussion.

A mystery, huh?

"Tinanong ko ang secretary ng university president natin kaninang umaga," Nicholas said. "She told me that the president will have an emergency meeting with the Dominic family at nine in the morning. At the boardroom. Guess who are also in attendance? The vice president for administration, the directors of Student Affairs and Campus Security, and the chief of the university police. Whatever they're discussing, it must be serious."

I looked at my watch. Five minutes past eight o'clock. "Do you want me to attend the meeting?"

"Unfortunately, you can't," he answered. "Walang ibang papayagan na sumali maliban sa mga nabanggit ko. It's strictly confidential."

"So...?" I stared at him, my brows creased.

"So... we do what we have to do."

He pulled the topmost drawer of his mobile file cabinet and showed me a black, small rectangular object. He held it up with his hand. "Will we let a no authorized personnel allowed sign stop us from knowing the contents of their meeting?"

I chuckled. "Since when did that stupid sign stop us?"

One thing I liked about my editor? He shared my enthusiasm for finding out the truth. Nang sabihin ko sa kanyang balak kong imbestigahan ang corruption sa student council, hindi niya ako sinabihan na "Huwag na! Medyo delikado 'yan!" o "Malalagay tayo sa alanganin." He was up for it and supported me all the way. He even stood for me to our editor-in-chief three weeks ago.

"If I let you write an article about that topic, we will be declaring war against the University Student Council. The freaking USC!" our chief warned. "Alam kong passionate kayo sa mga ganitong coverage, pero kailangan nating maging maingat. We cannot be seen as too adversarial toward the highest student organization in the university."

"Boss, we're not declaring war against the student government," Nicholas replied. "We're declaring war against corruption. Against a single person. Or a bunch, if the other officers are complicit. Kung magpapanggap tayong walang naaamoy kahit umaalingasaw na ang baho, wala tayong pinagkaiba sa kanya."

Our boss looked away, his face was in distraught. Based on my initial research, our editor-in-chief and the incumbent USC president are members of the self-entitled Honor Society. They belonged to the same circle of privileged pricks.

"I understand that the president is your friend," I added. "But your friendship with him ends when our duty as watchdogs of Clark University begins."

Defeated, he heaved a long sigh. "Fine! But I need to see enough proof against him before we print them, okay? Ayaw kong malagay tayo sa kahit anong legal trouble."

"I will make sure that Vio gathers enough evidence," Nicholas said, patting me on the shoulder. "Hindi ko na paaabutin sa 'yo kung alam kong hindi tatayo ang istorya."

So far, my editor's consistent. He suggested of planting a listening bug in the boardroom for the so-called confidential meeting. And I totally agreed with his idea. The Damon case was currently a hot topic, and everyone in the campus has the right to know or is interested about the developments. Transparency must be observed.

With that level of passion and determination, I wouldn't be surprised if Nicholas' up for promotion as editor-in-chief next academic year.

"Kailangan nating maging maingat," he said, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Kapag may nakahuli sa atin at nalaman nilang palihim tayong nakikinig sa meeting, baka ma-suspend o ma-expel tayong dalawa."

"We can't just simply walk into the boardroom and hide that thing in the least conspicious spot, can we?"

"Meron na akong solusyon diyan." He typed some words on his phone screen. Shall we go?"

We left the editorial office and went to the comfort room on the fourth floor of the administration building. Wala akong idea kung bakit niya ako dinala rito, pero sumunod pa rin ako sa kanya. This was one of the least visited CRs in the campus. He must have some tricks up his sleeves. Possibly hidden here.

A housekeeping personnel with some grey strands in his hair and moustache was cleaning the mirror when we got inside. He must be around his fifties, and his build was large. Nagpalitan ng tingin ang dalawa sa salamin at sabay na tumango. The man pulled out two sets of uniform with white and green colors—similar to the clothes he was wearing—and gave them to Nicholas. My editor, in return, gave him a small envelope. There must be money inside. What else could fit in?

"Kapag tapos n'yo nang gamitin, iwan n'yo ang mga uniform sa ikatlong cubicle."

Nicholas nodded, so did I. Ibinigay niya sa akin ang isang set at ngumuso sa mga cubicle. I locked the door and removed my beige blazer and dark pants. I put on the white-and-green shirt with dark green pants.

We got out of the cubicles almost at the same time and looked at ourselves in the mirror. Inalis ko ang aking horn-rimmed glasses dahil masyadong agaw-pansin at madaling ma-trace sa akin. My eyesight was not good without my specs on, but I had to lessen the risk of being recognized.

The mysterious housekeeping personnel placed a cap on our heads and gave us two spin mop and bucket sets. "Good luck sa kung anuman ang gagawin n'yo."

We hurriedly skipped down the stairs and walked to the direction of the boardroom on the ground floor. It's already eight-thirty. Thirty minutes before the meeting would start.

"You go in. I'll stand guard outside," Nicholas said when we were a just a few steps away from the boardroom. He took out a bottled water and poured its contents on the floor while no one was looking. Sinimulan niyang i-mop 'yon. "The university president's secretary must be in there to inspect. Baka ma-recognize niya ang mukha ko kapag ako ang pumasok diyan."

He handed me the listening bug and I gave him a reassuring nod. As the door swung open, a woman in ponytails was walking in circles, around the long, mahogany table. She was pressing the microphone buttons on the surface, checking if they were working.

"Housekeeping po," I greeted, making her turn to me. Binati niya ako ng ngiti. Binati ko rin siya ng ngiti, pero bahagyang nakayuko ang ulo ko. I did not want her to recognize or remember my face.

Thank God the secretary was busy with the microphones. She wouldn't notice me struggling with the mop. I was not used to cleaning so I was a noob when it came to these tasks. Hindi rin ako naglilinis sa apartment namin kaya wala akong training.

When I pulled the chair at one end of the table, I quickly peeled the double adhesive tape and firmly placed the listening bug underneath. Nang magawi sa akin ang tingin ng secretary, muli akong ngumiti sa kanya. The muscles in my mouth were being put to the test today.

The door swung. I thought the guests have arrived, but I only heard one set of footsteps. When my eyes glanced at the time, it's still eight-forty. Whoever got inside was twenty minutes early.

"Yow! Dito ba ang meeting kasama ang Dominic family?"

I raised my gaze. The curious secretary looked at the man with dark corduroy jacket. Nagawi din sa lalaki ang tingin ko. His fringe was combed to one side.

"Yes, dito nga ho. May I know what's your business in that meeting? Closed door ho kasi 'yon."

"I was invited by the chief of the university police to attend and offer my insights about the case. Oh, forgive me! Where are my manners? The name's Julius Claud Roman from the Social Sciences Department. Pleased to meet you!"

"Pleased to meet you too, sir! I'm the secretary to the university president."

"Just wanna sit in here before I go to the class of the person of interest in the Damon case..."

The two probably shook hands. I was near-sighted, so the distant objects were blurry to my eyes. I could not see them clearly.

Since my business was done here, I put my mop back into bucket and quietly walked toward the exit.

"Uhm... Excuse me? Just a minute, if you don't mind?"

That was the instructor's voice. I halted as I felt his gaze coming from behind me. What did he want?

"Yes, sir?" I slowly turned to the man who barged into the boardroom.

He got closer to me as he slid his hands inside his pockets.

"If I remember correctly, there's only one housekeeping personnel assigned per floor at any given time," he said. "There's already one in here—you—and another one outside. Was there a change in your assignments?"

My lips parted, unsure of what to answer. I was totally caught off guard here. I was not aware that the housekeeping services observed that arrangement.

"Also, the work you've done here is pretty sloppy," he added, pointing to the floor. "Were you in a hurry because the guests will come here in about... twenty minutes? Or were you just bad at your job?"

We exchanged glances. He smirked. I gulped.

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So how was our fact boy Vio's POV chapter?

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