VI

I want the freedom to embrace my dreams.

MONEY IS NOT the only concept that has changed here. True to my letter, love and problems are nonexistent as well. Because dreams are free to achieve, and everything is accessible and easy to get, there's no sense of jealousy, envy, and conflicts in this world.

It struck me as odd when I first learned of it. Like a fish out of water, it took me a while to adapt to the big changes. There are just far too many discrepancies from the two worlds that I couldn't just bridge the gaps even after staying here for two months.

"I'm getting married to Joshua," Luna, my blockmate, suddenly says over lunch. "The test results came out and it says we're the most compatible."

She's referring to the C&C test, which means Companionship & Compatibility. It can be taken by anyone who's ready to share their life with a partner and build a family. It's one of the most startling concepts here, which I can't still wrap my mind around. I can't imagine how it's like to marry someone just because a test says you're good together.

"Do you even like him?" I end up blurting in my struggle to understand this concept.

Luna smiles. "Of course. He's a nice guy."

"No, not that," I say none too quickly. "I mean, do you love him? Enough to be your husband?"

Her brows crease at my question. "What do you mean by that?"

I pause to find the right words, and then I try again, "Among everyone in the world, is he the most important to you?"

Luna blinks, now looking at me strangely.

"Why would he be? Everyone is important to me."

"Then why are you marrying him?"

"Because the results say we're a good match. He'll be a good partner and a good father. He can help me cultivate my talents too. He's a musician too, you see. We can make more songs together."

"Is that your only reason for marrying him? To help you grow?"

"Why else would I marry then?"

"Then, why have children? Why have a family?"

"Why not? Families are nice. Kids are cute and they're necessary to sustain the society and keep it going." She puts her utensils down and reaches for my hand, leaning closer with a sudden excitement glowing on her face. "Why the questions though, Chari? Are you planning to get married soon?"

No. It is your world that's weird, I want to say.

I shake my head, feeling myself deflating. "No-it's nothing."

Does love not exist in this world at all? Did the well really make my wish come true? Down to the last letter?

Despite being responsible for the nature of this world, the unfamiliarity soon begins to creep on me. Whatever I do, I can't fit in, and it's upsetting me. There's always new concepts to discover, new concepts that are pushing me off-kilter.

Even in the world of my own making, I don't belong. Is it because I'm way too broken and beyond repair and it's too late for me to change now? To turn around and make better of myself?

In the next days, I try to let these "so-called friends" know of how I feel, of how sad I still am despite of the perfection around me, of how devoid and empty I feel. Maybe in this version, someone will understand. Someone will reach out.

But the way they look at me is a telling sign that they can't understand me, not for the lack of trying, of course.

Luna, in all fairness to her, keeps asking me questions to help her understand. Yet the more questions she asks, the more it becomes clear to me that she will never understand how I feel.

Because love doesn't exist here. In a world where love and attachment are nonexistent, but friendship is universal and dreams are within reach, pain and emptiness are simply foreign concepts they've never heard of before.

They can't understand me because they've never felt it.

This realization and the lack of actual connection, for some reasons, remind me more than anything of how bleak and dreary my previous life was. Here, I have everything but communication.

Here, I have everything and still lack understanding.

I still feel empty and I'm drowning once again.

Are communication and connection what I've been longing for all this time then?

As I walk out of my last class, mulling this over and over in my head, a sudden thought shoves everything aside and presents itself to me.

Someone who understands...

Someone to connect with...

If everything about this place is crafted after that letter, after my desires, is it possible that he's here as well?

Fuelled by desperation to see him and that thrice-damned smile, I run back to the med building. Alas is not in my class, so I look for him in the other classes.

But he's not there. He's not anywhere.

Still, I look for him. In the library, the rooftop, the sheds. In the places where he was usually seen.

After an hour of searching without results, I give up. My shoulder slumps in defeat, and I'm frustrated to even think that he doesn't exist here.

Is that even possible?

If he's not here, then where is he?

Disoriented, I walk out of the building and make my way to the exit. Then I pass by the monument of the university founder where a strikingly familiar voice drifts to my ear, and I pause.

My heart pounds in my ears as I turn to the group of men hanging out behind it-and then my breath stops.

It's Alas, alive and healthy, laughing his laugh, smiling his smiles, living his life. In his hand, there's what looks like a drawing tube. Architecture?

One of his friends notices me and whispers to him. Alas turns to me.

Our eyes meet.

Then my heart breaks when his brows furrow, like he's trying to recognize me. He lifts a brow in a silent question, probably to ask why I'm staring.

I'm unable to respond, still shocked.

He only shakes his head, a confused smile breaking past his lips, before he turns back to his friends.

He never looks at me again.

***

It strikes me then that the well did fulfill every last wish of mine, written or otherwise.

This is a world where Alas doesn't know me.

Like what I wanted. A world where he won't pester me and follow me like a plague incarnate.

This is what I've wanted all this time for the longest time.

So then why does it hurt now?

Why is it hard to believe that this Alas, like the rest of this world, is real?

Why can't I accept that an Alas who doesn't know me exists?

Why, out of all the absurd things in here, does that bother me the most?

I run away. From him or myself, I don't know.

***

When I return home, the aroma of baked cookies and fresh hot coffee greet my nose. My parents are immediately around me, embracing me, kissing my head, and asking for my day.

I feel sick.

Because it's fake, fake, fake.

All of it are fake.

I feel even more alone now than I'd ever been in my whole life. Surrounded by people who outwardly show affections but don't really care for me is making me dizzy.

I can't stand any more second of it-so I run away again, out of my house, the calls of my parents following me from the door.

Haste fuels my steps and adrenaline rushes through my blood when I make my way to the car and drive all the way back to Baguio, where it all began.

I was wrong.

I can't stay here.

This is a fake world.

This isn't where I belong.

This isn't what I want.