I knew Inang as someone who hated noise, but in specific times like tonight, I almost forgot about that fact.

Compared to the usual day when the ancestral house felt like an abandoned place, tonight was different. Every corner of the house was occupied by people I didn't know were allowed inside. Hanap ako nang hanap ng lugar sa buong bahay kung saan puwede akong mapag-isa, and I ironically missed those days when this house was secluded from everyone.

The whole ground floor was populated. Ayoko sanang tumambay sa second floor kasi parang binabahayan ng multo, but I had no other choice. Doon lang walang masyadong tao.

I went to that part of the hallway na sa sobrang dulo, wala na talagang nag-a-attempt tumambay. Parang ginawa na ngang tambakan ng mga painting at framed picture. I sat on the floor across the side table full of old pictures. Mula sa puwesto ko, nakikita ko sa kabilang dulo ang mga dumalo sa wedding anniversary ni Inang.

Ayoko sanang mag-judge kung bakit ang daming tao ngayon samantalang wala naman sila rito sa buong month ng stay ko. I know how frequently I complained about this house being boring and silent, but tonight was a different case. I felt alone in the middle of a crowd, and it wasn't helping my mood.

I let out a deep sigh and glanced at the pictures in front of me. I saw Papa in his younger years. Many of his pictures show him as Inang's único hijo.

My dad was spoiled as fuck. What he wants, he gets. I could tell. My mom married him despite the fact that she wasn't interested in him at all. Sinasabi ni Mama na ginayuma raw siya ni Papa. Parang may ibinigay sa kanya si Papa, then all of a sudden, she felt like he was the most majestic man on Earth. And she only realized things after she gave birth to me.

She was complaining about that every single day, na kung alam lang daw niya na ganito, ganyan, hindi na sana siya naging nice kay Papa.

I don't know how love potion shit works. I wasn't even sure if that was real or Mama was just making stories up.

To be fair kay Papa, he's a good-looking guy. We were of Spanish-American descent. Inang almost always speaks in straight Spanish. Papa knew how to speak Spanish, and me no hablo Español. Kung tutuusin nga, si Mama dapat ang tinatanong ko kung ano'ng nakita sa kanya ni Papa. Mas mukha pa kasi siyang magbibigay ng gayuma sa dad ko kaysa si Papa sa kanya. She was so normal, like . . . pretty naman si Mama, but if magkakaroon ng comparison sa ibang babae, she would surely lose the game.

I was scanning every frame when my eyes caught that photo of me and my childhood crush. I immediately stood up, smiling, and checked that specific photograph.

Oh, hell no!

I felt giddy as I fixed my gaze on my younger self and Billy.

I almost forgot about him. I wore my white and yellow polka dot dress with ruffled sleeves. And I got my favorite white socks with intricate lace and white small-heeled shoes. My long hair was braided in half, both sides, and the lower half of my hair was sitting straight on my back. Papa was on my right side, holding my right hand.

Beside me was Billy. Memory flashed back. He was in his blue checkered short-sleeved shirt tucked into black formal shorts with suspenders. His socks were knee-length, paired with shiny black leather shoes. He was standing beside a woman in her thirties. Her right hand was resting above Billy's shoulder.

Since day one, Billy, for me, is a fine-looking asshole fucker. Nakikita ko lang siya kapag hinihiram ako ni Papa. Nagbabakasyon lang din naman siya sa Laguna kapag nakikita ko siya. Kahit ngayong nakatingin ako sa picture namin, mas lalo kong na-appreciate ang pagiging guwapo ng mayabang na 'to. Kinikilig pa 'ko dati every time na magkasama kami, kaso ang yabang kasi talaga niya!

I met him when I was six. He walked, he talked, he moved like he owned the whole province. Hindi raw siya nakikipag-friends sa lowly people. And as I looked at our photo together, he didn't talk shit. His stance beside screamed all the words na hindi siya for the street kids' company. That was the main reason why we ended up as childhood friends until I was ten. Legitimately, I was the only kid in this area who could equate in their status. Anak ako ng mayamang negosyante, and Inang's family owned a huge land in this province. Adajars owned vast lands, and they donated one to the government to become a municipality.

Before kami lumipat ni Mama sa U.S., nakapagpaalam naman ako kay Billy. I was so sad at that time because leaving meant not seeing him anymore. I cried so hard when I said my Mama's plan to him. Ibinigay ko pa sa kanya ang favorite necklace ko na regalo ni Papa because I made a promise that I would go home someday, and maybe someday we would see each other again, but all he said was, "Ang arte mo naman."

Now I remember why I hated his guts to the core. Now I remember why I didn't want to remember him! He didn't say goodbye to me! Wala siyang ibang sinabi apart from that. Pero crush ko kasi talaga siya dati, so parang wala lang for me na hindi siya nagpaalam. I thought at least we had a chance to talk for the last time before the plane took me somewhere far from this place.

That was a bullshit memory to recall.

Inilapag ko na uli ang picture frame sa table at naiinis na itinaob 'yon para hindi ko na maalala ang inis ko kay Billy.