"AND cut!" Fino exclaimed.

I was still dumbfounded as Boss Rustan withdrew himself from my depths. He was still hard, and I was worried we might have a round two.

When he sat down heavily beside me, panting heavily, I knew it was over. Our moment of pleasure had come to an end.

I just silently sat up on the bed, gathered my clothes and wore them.

I had been motionless since a while ago, lost in my thoughts, haunted by Boss Rustan's words from last night. His words felt like a kick to my identity, leaving a mark on my heart and mind. It had made a lasting impact on me, a permanent pain that I couldn't erase from my mind.

"Hey," I felt Fino's hand on my arm as I stepped out of his room. Boss Rustan was left inside, getting dressed. "Are you okay?" Fino asked me as I stepped out.

I gave a restrained smile and nodded, while I quietly pulled my arm away from his grasp.

I started walking again, and Fino held my arm once more. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I said, keeping my smile minimal. I hoped he wouldn't notice it was forced. Because deep inside, I was shattered. I felt completely broken and dirty, like trash. It was something that Boss Rustan had instilled in my mind last night.

Fino observed my face for a few moments, as if trying to decipher my unusual mood for the day. In the end, he just sighed and nodded.

I withdrew my arm again and didn't bother saying goodbye. I walked out of his unit and headed straight for the elevator. And, as luck would have it, Boss Rustan caught up with me because the elevator took so long to open. Now, we were both wrapped in awkwardness as we waited for it to ascend to our floor.

When it finally opened, there was no one inside. I hesitated about whether to go in first or not. But when I noticed that he wasn't moving either, I took it as a signal to enter ahead of him. He followed me as soon as I was inside and pressed the button for the ground floor. He didn't even ask if the ground floor was indeed my destination.

The deafening silence embraced us as we waited. Neither of us wanted to speak. But then again, it wasn't surprising. Why would he talk to me? Who was I to him?

When the elevator doors opened again, we were on the ground floor. Boss Rustan was the first to step out this time. He left me until he disappeared from my sight. No goodbyes. No words exchanged.

But come to think of it, I'm quite persistent, aren't I? Why should I even be surprised? After all, he treated me like a mere sex toy, with such low regard. Why am I surprised?


I STILL carried the weight of it all the next day. I wasn't in the mood to work. I couldn't engage in a proper conversation with Badette and the others. I couldn't join in their fun. I couldn't bring myself to be happy. How could I genuinely laugh when I felt so insignificant?

"Girl, should we have a drink?" Badette offered before she turned off the restaurant lights.

"I'm in!" Chan chimed in.

Kuya Peter had already closed the restaurant. He even locked it up.

"Don't you dare start with me there. You’re a dumbass when you're drunk!" Badette retorted to Chan. “You’re a perverted freak!”

"Oh, come on, I'm really not." Chan frowned.

"So, what about the first time we drank together? When I puked, instead of tapping my back, why did you fondle my boobs?"

Shobe interjected, "Oh really, Chan? You weren't disgusted with Badette? Is there no hope for you, girl? You dared to touch this?" She pointed to my friend. She acted as if she couldn't believe what happened.

"Fuck off, I don't remember anything you're saying," Chan winced at Badette.

Badette seemed unfazed by Chan as she focused her sharp gaze on Shobe. She hit her at the back of her head, which led to them playfully hitting each other as they walked toward the jeep terminal.

"They really act like kids," Kuya Peter chuckled. "Alright, I'm off," he waved at us before hopping on his motorcycle. After a moment, he started the engine and drove away until he disappeared from our sight.

"Aren't you heading home yet? Let's go together," Chan said to me.

I didn't bother to look at him. "My boyfriend is picking me up."

From the corner of my eye, I could feel him staring at my face. "Your boyfriend is so lucky. I wish everyone had someone to pick up."

"Then find a beggar on the street and pick him up every day," I retorted, still not looking at him.

I heard him chuckle softly. "That's the kind of girl I like. Feisty. Hard to get. But when I make her moan in bed, she suddenly tames down... starts chasing after pleasure," he said with a sly grin.

I raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

One more word, and you’ll definitely hear from me.

"Just saying," he flashed a full set of teeth when he smiled. He acted like he was saluting, "I'm off, take care." He winked at me before turning away. I couldn't hide my annoyance as he walked toward the jeep terminal.

Assh*le.


"I’VE been waiting here for a while now. Why are you late?" I greeted Enrique when he got closer after disembarking from the jeep. He was still wearing his uniform.

"Sorry, love. I got a bit caught up. I couldn't leave a patient hanging. I waited until his surgery was over. That kid is amazing, even though I'm just an intern nurse, he called me Doctor," he said with a chuckle.

"Why didn't you at least tell me? Then maybe I wouldn't have waited here for so long. Is that kid more important than me?"

"Love...," a sudden sadness reflected in his eyes. It was clear he didn't expect me to react this way. "You know it's not like that. And besides, I ran out of data, so I couldn't let you know. You're used to waiting for a few minutes, so I thought it would be fine—"

"You thought?" I cut him off. "You always assume shit. Screw those assumptions of yours."

He just swallowed his saliva.

"Not because I got used to it, you should take it for granted. Not because it looks fine with me, it's really fine. You should learn to be considerate sometimes, Enrique. Use that brain of yours. You're smart, right? Maybe think about whether what you're doing is still right."

"Sorry..." he muttered.

I furrowed my brow and turned away.

I walked toward the jeep terminal in haste. I didn't know why I was so angry with him right now. As he said, waiting for a few minutes – sometimes even hours – was fine with me before. But what is this? What am I feeling right now? Why am I so irritated?

Have I changed, or do I just need someone to vent my frustrations on?

I'd bet it's a bit of both.

"Love, do you want some fish balls?" He tried to hold my hand, but I quickly pulled it away.

"Go eat by yourself."

I continued walking, and he was just as persistent in chasing after me.

"Love..." He tried to hold my hand once more.

"What is it?!" I brushed his hand away again, then faced him, my eyes narrowed. "Can you not?!"

He sighed. "I'm sorry..."

"Save your apologies." I turned away, but I stopped in my tracks when he spoke again.

"You're overreacting, love.” His tone filled with disappointment. "You're blowing things out of proportion over such a trivial thing."

“You're so dramatic," his voice, even though annoyed, still has a touch of tenderness.

I turned to face him once more. I saw his face turning red. That's how he gets when he's angry. "You're the one who's in the mood to get mad now? Who was late for our meeting?"

"Who doesn't understand anything?" He interrupted me.

I closed my eyes in frustration. My tone became sharp. "Who can't empathize? Who's the one making assumptions, thinking everything's fine?" When I opened my eyes, his frustrated gaze had shifted away from me.

But then he turned his eyes back to me. "Who's being overdramatic? Most importantly, who's the irrational one between us? Who, instead of understanding that I'm tired from my OJT, is now being overly dramatic?"

I clenched my jaw. "You're not the only one who's tired—"

"Exactly! We're both tired! We're both exhausted, so don't make it worse!"

I looked away. His raised voice made my eyes burn with anger in every corner. Everything became a jumbled mess for me. Weariness. Self-doubt. Irritation. It was worsened by the fact that people were now staring at us.

"Fine, if you're tired. If you're annoyed with me, I'll go home first," Enrique's voice was sharp and filled with irritation. "You go home by yourself."

He walked away, passing right by me, leaving me in the midst of the judgmental gazes of onlookers.

With his actions, I felt even smaller.

The face I could confidently show to the world seemed to have vanished…

Feeling weak, I walked toward the waiting shed. I had no energy to stand in line at the jeepney terminal. I couldn't bear the mocking glances from the people who had watched us earlier. The line was long now.

I sat down, and even with a face mask on, I could smell the suffocating fumes of passing vehicles. I coughed and stared into space. I began to ponder everything that’s happening in my life right now.

I felt like a magnet for misfortune.

I was the misfortune itself.

Fuck this life...

Tears welled up in my eyes. It all started with my father's debts. Then my stint as a porn star. I swallowed it all. I had no pride left. It led to me being used by Boss Rustan, and now, by Enrique.

I'm not disappointed in him.

I'm disappointed in myself for choosing to dump all my problems on him. He did nothing but care for me, but I went too far earlier. I accepted that. I understood that.

My shoulders slumped, feeling lost. I covered my mouth and began to sob, my hot tears streaming down my cheeks.

I'm such an idiot.

My life is such a mess…

In the midst of the intense pain in my chest, I didn't pay much attention to the person who sat beside me. It wasn't until I stopped that I noticed he was handing me a handkerchief.

"T-Thank . . . y-you . . . " I continued to sob. I waved my hand to let him know I was okay, that he didn't need to comfort me.

But I was surprised when he suddenly spoke up.

"Are you taking this, or perhaps you'd like me to wipe your tears for you?"