Bilay was on the bleachers in the gym at their school, munching on a tuna sandwich. Despite her occasional disdain for the taste of the mayo mixed with flakes of tuna, as well as its slightly gritty texture, her thoughts were all over the place, distracted by anything and everything. This current state of not knowing what to do and just winging it is what people like to call sabog. She was thinking about how she was suddenly so aware of her surroundings. She was also thinking about how she was so jumpy, getting worked up over each door being opened and shut, each sound that shoes made when sliding on the gym floor, each time the ball was bouncing a bit too close to her spot, and each hand that taps her shoulder. She could feel everything with regards to touch, sound, and sight.

"Biyaya Silay!" her friend seated a step above her in the bleachers called out. Bilay flinched at the sudden call for attention, given the volume at which it was relayed, and shook her head in hopes to clear her mind and hold herself together. It normally doesn't work, but Bilay does the gesture anyway.

"Mmm?" she hummed in response, her mouth still chewing food.

A girl with ridiculously curly hair stretched out her arm and held out her smart phone for Bilay to see what was displayed on its screen. Bilay took a long look at it and proceeded to hum in what sounded like approval.

"What do you think?" the curly girl asked, her arm starting to ache from holding the phone to Bilay's face.

Bilay swallowed her food before answering, "I think it's nice. It's not too simple, and not too complicated either. I like it. That's pretty cool, Dani."

Bilay's friend, Danielle, was a graphic designer. She was good at making posters and publishing materials for events and activities that needed promotion. Whenever there was a class, batch, or club endeavor that called for things such as flyers and the like, she was the person people turned to. What she showed to Bilay was a promotional visual for the Volleyball club's booth on the Club Fair this incoming September. They were selling food and setting up a projector and speakers to stream the anime Haikyuu, a series about people who played volleyball.

"Thank you," Dani replied, drawing out the 'u' in 'you'.

Bilay tilted her head and went back to her sandwich, now looking at the people practicing at the court.

"Hey, Bilay?" Dani called again and Bilay turned to look at her again.

"You're really jumpy today. And you seem so . . ." Dani shrugged, "out of it? You okay?"

At this, Bilay sighed softly and nodded, in an attempt to brush off her friend's worry. "Just a bit frazzled from the move," she excused.

"Ah, right," Dani replied, reminded of how troubling house moves can get and how much of a hassle it really was. "How's the new place?" she asked.

"It's nice," Bilay supplied, reminded of the magnificent building.

"When can I come over?" Dani immediately queried, her smiling face showing her eagerness.

"Oh," Bilay said, not able to give a definite answer. She rummaged through her brain order to get her thoughts a little bit organized. There was one thing in her mind that stood out, but that wasn't very useful in this conversation. All she could think of right now were smiling dark brown eyes that haunted her every hour since she saw them. Closing up her lunch bag, she made up another excuse, "Maybe when everything's settled. We're still in the process of the move, you know? Everything's still all over the place."

Dani's smile turned into a pout before replying. "Alright. Just tell me when, okay? We really haven't hung out much ever since you guys started preparing for the move. I miss you."

"I missed you, too. I promise to make it up to you," Bilay remarked, reaching out to hold both of Dani's hands. Dani held hers and looked at her pleadingly.

Bilay laughed at this, "Alright, I'll watch through a whole season of American Horror Story with you. Is that fine?"

Dani perked up at this proposition. "That's perfect."

"Okay," Bilay finalized, ending the conversation. Dani found this strange. Bilay was usually never the one to end a conversation with words as simple as a single 'okay'. However, despite this being an unusual occurrence, Dani pushed it away.

Bilay finished gathering her things and together with Dani, they headed back to their classroom, expecting to arrive 5 minutes before their Social Science period.

On the way there, Bilay couldn't help but dwell on the image of a stare that she knows will probably stay quite a while in her little head.

The memory of yesterday replayed, still fresh in her mind.

-

"O, are you okay?"

Bilay could not find her voice at this moment and it was a very strange experience.

His voice was so soft. As if it was like the wind. However, Bilay could definitely hear it. She could make out each and every one of his words as he spoke. She also noticed that even though the boy was over a foot away from her, the voice that reached her ears sounded as if he was just mere inches away from her.

The boy in front of her was exactly the same as how she'd seen him in the picture, that bit was obvious, however, that only raised a much bigger question inside Bilay's mind. Why indeed did he look exactly like the person together with her great-grandmother?

She nodded in response, having left with no other option. The boy looked as if he was about to take another step when a sound interrupted this.

"Biyaya? You okay? Did anything break?" A voice echoed from the outside of the room. It was her mother. Both their heads turned to the doorway of her bedroom.

"I-," Biyaya struggled getting her words out, feeling a bit of saliva making its way down the wrong tube. She quickly returned her gaze back to the boy when she replied, "I'm fine! Just a little jar, I can take care of it!"

His side profile greeted her and Bilay had a sudden quick intake of air. She could see the shape of the front of his face in greater detail at this angle. His haircut left him with a slight fringe that framed his forehead. His nose was arched slightly, the tip finishing off in a round curve. These gave Bilay the thought that he definitely came off as strong. Despite this she also took note of the softness present in his facial features. His brows were slightly furrowed and his lips were pursed. This made her wonder how he'd look like when he was smiling.

"Alright! If you need a broom, there's one next to the stairs," her mother called back again and Bilay snapped out of her daze, making her aware of her surroundings again.

Recovering from her daze, she blinked, and at that same time, the boy turned to look at her again. Once again, she took a quick breath and raised the photo she held in hand in front of her face.

As she had observed, he indeed looked exactly the same as the boy in the photo.

She looked back up to meet his gaze and then quickly turned back to the photograph. She proceeded to do this repeatedly, the boy just keeping silent, standing there, no longer crouched, with his hands at his side. Somehow, however slight it was for Bilay, it seemed as though that boy had found her familiar. There was something about his stare that conveyed something along the lines of recognition.

"Uh..." Bilay tried to start, wondering if she should thank the boy that was suspiciously a carbon copy of the person in the picture, but before anything else, the boy smiled. Bilay could feel an unusual feeling at her chest. Something she'd felt only when she would read a tragic chapter in a book. She noticed that she couldn't tell whether or not his eyes were closed when he smiled. She thought that one couldn't really tell the difference.

In a kind yet strong tone, the boy spoke again in straight Tagalog, "I hope you are in good health, miss. Please take care." He bowed with his right hand on his chest while his left behind his back, a gesture that was very formal to Bilay.

That was when things were confusing for Bilay. "Also, please be mindful of your surroundings next time," the boy continued after bowing and the next thing Bilay knew, he quickly ran in the direction of the balcony.

Bilay processed this incident for about half a second before reacting. "Hoy! Wait!" she shouted, trying to chase after him.

It was a futile attempt. All she was able to do in this endeavor was see him jump over the balcony and at first she froze. After realizing how much the action she had just witnessed was definitely not the safest, she quickly went back to running towards the path traversed by the boy.

When she did get onto the balcony, the afternoon sun was enforcing its very harsh and bright light onto wherever Bilay was looking to. She blinked a few times, letting her eyes adjust to the brightness of her surroundings, approaching the stone rails that kept people from quite a high and painful drop. She proceeded to look over the rails, seeing no one in the process of running away from the spot where the boy would supposedly fall on. She looked below, seeing bushes and a bonsai, but not observing anything out of the ordinary.

She retracted her body from the rail and tried to think of what just happened. That was quite a jump that boy had just made, so obviously this must not have been the first time he's done this. Agitation quickly engulfed Bilay's thoughts, as she supposed that maybe he was some neighbor's boy that would break in a lot, or maybe one of Manang Tinay's relatives that somehow thought that he could come and go as he pleased. However, this line of thought was immediately interrupted. He looked exactly like the person in the picture who was next to her great-grandma. She went back into the safety of the shade of the bedroom against the harsh afternoon sunlight. The photograph was still in her hand, and she noticed that at this time, her palms were sweaty, and the photo was slightly damp. She immediately felt awful, seeing as this picture was probably something that her great-grandma Silay had treasured. It was quite well-preserved for a picture from the near end of the 19th century.

She stared at it once more, then flipped it accordingly.

His name . . . Pedro.

Bilay wondered if this was the boy's name as well.

Bilay went downstairs as fast as she could, into the tiled room that led into the kitchen. One would describe her to be gliding, given the speed at which she was able to reach her destination.

When she arrived at the kitchen, she saw her mother and asked accordingly if they were supposed to be expecting anyone else to be in the house with them.

"No, anak, why do you ask?" Ides replied with a furrowed pair of brows.

"Does Manang Tinay have any guests over?" Bilay asked, panting quite heavily due to her sudden sprint.

"I don't think so. Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost, dear," her mother queried.

Bilay's breath had caught. A ghost. Of course.

Needless to say, Bilay did not sleep too well that night. The fact that the boy that she encountered might have been a ghost completely made sense. That would explain why he looked as if he was an exact replica of the picture, albeit a bit older in terms of facial features. His profile was quite strong, but his round nose gave off a softness that Bilay could not completely explain. His eyes however, held something that somehow irked her. It really seemed as if he knew her.

With a bit of help via entertainment that came in the form of humorous videos online, Bilay was able to distract herself from the thought of the ghost that possibly lurked in the very room she lay in, and she fell asleep.

Unfortunately, Bilay's dreams were not the kindest towards her. She saw the boy again, yes, but it was more than his haunting stare. What worried her subconscious mind was the fact that the boy was very close to Bilay's face, too close. He was getting closer as well, but at the same time it was too far, and it was getting much farther. The rate at which he was getting closer was much slower than the rate at which Bilay felt she was being pulled away.

She remembered feeling so anguished. She felt such painful and sorrowful emotions. She felt like she was being left alone. When Bilay couldn't see the figure of the boy anymore, she had the urge to cry. That was when she felt the worst of it. She felt so lonely.

The last thing she remembers was the sound of crying, sobbing, in a voice that sounded very much like her own, "Poli!"

-

After lunch, everyone in Bilay's grade had only four periods left before their dismissal. The one she was to attend first, together with her friend Dani, was Social Science.

They were revisiting Philippine History once more, but not as in-depth as it had been discussed during their first year of high school.

Bilay was listening to her teacher give out what they were expected to have as outputs this quarter and one of the bulky topics was the colonial periods leading to the declaration of independence, accordingly, the teacher assigned their major project-based output to surround this whole concept. Their major output was to be a diary, and as easy as it sounded to accomplish it, that wasn't exactly the case.

"I want it to be detailed," Ms. Uping explained. "And no, I don't mean that you tell me each and everything you feel about the stuck up wench you've always wanted to rat out on, no, that is not the case."

Everyone sniggered at her obvious reference towards certain distaste for other people. Bilay found that statement quite iconic.

"For your project, is not just any diary, but it will be a diary surrounding the events that had happened during the colonial periods leading to our eventual freedom and independence as a country. Of course there's the issue that not all people live through all of these events, as the time I've specified is very broad and general. What I will do to narrow down certain details is assign you much more specific topics and circumstances," Ms. Uping continued and picked up a box and shook it, producing a sound similar to feathers being flapped. "Inside this box are prompts, and before that, you students should know that this project will not be an individual task, but rather a pairwork."

At the mention of the designated manpower needed for the project, the class had different reactions. Some students had sighed in relief that they did not have to do this big project by themselves, some had groaned at the thought of having to be paired with someone when they work perfectly alone, some had squealed at the thought of being partnered with someone they particularly like, and some had been indifferent, simply accepting the 'pairwork' detail as it was. Bilay was one of the indifferent ones, she didn't really think having a partner on this type of project was necessary, it would be trouble more than anything, given that it would just provide another set of ideas that may conflict with one's own, but it would also be nice to have a second opinion on whatever one would come up with.

So Bilay instead looked to her right where Dani was seated and while Bilay was indifferent, Dani was quite excited.

"Oh, Bilay, we haven't had a pairwork in so long. It's always some really big group or an individual task. This is refreshing," Dani relayed as she flipped through her handout.

"Are you looking for someone in particular to work with?" Bilay asked. She hoped Dani would answer with her name. If there was one person Bilay was particularly delighted to work with, it would be Danielle.

"Not really, but I'd be more than willing to work with you!" Dani replied with a smile. "Just talking about it makes me so excited. Do you think Ms. Uping will allow us to customize the cover? What if it was like a scrapbook or a magazine?"

"Alright, don't get too excited," Ms. Uping remarked once she noticed students approaching their friends and the like, ready to select their own partners.

"Because this project is quite a giveaway, I expect two things. First, I need you to research your respective topics properly, and I mean research on it. I want it all. I want what they said instead of 'Hey' or 'Pare', or how much were the items considered to be the most expensive and luxurious items available. I want you to provide a narrative that actually sounds like it was written by a person that lived through that time."

Everyone was anticipating what else Ms. Uping was about to say, excited to just finalize their pairings.

"And second, I will be the one to assign you to your partners," Ms. Uping said with a smug smile.

Evidently, the class deflated, but the fact that Ms. Uping was about to announce who would work with who still kept the class on their toes, their bodies showing the feeling of anticipation.

When the first pair of students was called out, Bilay zoned out, thinking of who she was going to be paired with. She hoped that person wasn't too bossy, to the point of taking over the reigns of the project, and she hoped the person wasn't too picky about details. She wished that if it wasn't Dani, she'd have someone who did the work just as they had divided it, and she prayed hard that it wasn't going to be one of those people who just are there so that they could let the other person do all the work. Bilay considered herself as a decent worker, doing whatever had to be done in time, no matter what. She had crammed several times, but nothing very quality damaging. In fact, a number of her outputs that were considered to be some of her best works were ones she had started on dangerously close to the deadline.

"Tuazon and Suarez," Ms. Uping had called out, and just like that, Dani was no longer going to be her partner.

"Aw, I'm sorry, Bilay," Dani said pouting, and this in turn made Bilay smile. Dani really acted like a prepubescent child sometimes. Dani laughed when she saw the smile and said, "Don't miss me too much, okay?"

"I promise that I won't miss you even a little," Bilay countered with a sweet tone and this made Dani pout again before turning around and finding her classmate who she was partnered with.

"Mallari and Balagtas."

Bilay thought about it. Alexander Balagtas was someone who she had never quite talked to. The first memory she had of encountering him was seeing him in one of their music classes. He was apparently the person who had the best presentation in the other music class and the teacher decided to have him demonstrate what he thought was the best example of a performer. He was a singer. That was all Bilay knew of him.

"Hey," a voice said, tapping Bilay's shoulder. She turned to see the person she was supposed to go to directly after their names had been called out.

"Helluuu," Bilay replied with a wave, in an attempt to be friendly. Alexander smiled at that. Bilay smiled as well.

"So, uh, I got our prompt," he said and handed Bilay a strip of paper. Bilay took it from his hand carefully.

It read, 'A Filipino youth during the 1890's.'

"Interesting," Bilay commented.

"Yeah, but I don't particularly have any ideas. I was hoping you do?" Alexander replied while rubbing the back of his neck.

"I somehow do, but it isn't really a concrete idea," Bilay supplied.

"Nice," Alexander remarked. "I guess let's chat about it online tonight? I just really have to finish this math worksheet due this dismissal."

"Sure," Bilay replied, already gathering her things in order to get ready for the next class.

With that, Alexander, or Axel, as people liked to call him, walked away with a wave and a friendly wink.

Bilay's eyes followed him to his seat before continuing with her task of fixing her bag.

That wasn't really all Bilay knew of Alexander. She knew that he liked girls with short hair. She also knew that a lot of girls have been eyeing this boy for more than a duet partner.

To top all of that off, she knew that someone named Biyaya Silay Mallari had a huge crush on him.