"Come on, Francisco! We're late for class! We're dead if we don't get to the roll call in time." screamed Quintino as he jogged the sidewalks leading to the Ateneo campus in the night, heaving heavily as he was galloping like a horse along the pavement.

"Wait! Slow down!" I gasped as I tried to catch up to him - my stamina almost depleted.

"Ah, carambas! We won't make it if you keep that up!" he complained with a tone of impatience, still running as fast as he could.

"I can't go on, Quintino!" I yelled back at him, gasping for air. "I feel like...my lungs...gonna rupture..."

"Well, I'm not waiting for you. I've been marked two times for being late. I AM NOT GOING TO PAY TWO PESOS AGAIN!" he replied as he gained more and more distance as the strength of my feet started to escape me.

"Damn it, he actually left me." I muttered under my breath, trying to recoup my strength with long and deep respirations.

Tonight is not a particularly good night for a class. In fact, today's not a good day for anything at all. Curses! Today was an unusually hot day - it was as if the May weather refuses to release the Philippines from its clutches - and it prevented me from having a good afternoon sleep for my schedule. This would be my first mark of absence in my Latin class this semester, all because I am late in showing up for the roll call, and it's only halfway through June! Knowing the professor, I'd need to cough up a peso or two to make up for this and my ate (big sister) would not be too happy if she finds out about my marked absence nor the money that I'm about to spend because of that.

And it did not help that I've been left alone in the house for months now with no one to borrow money from, because the one hundred pesos she has left me to last the month before she went to work in Batangas is now down to ten pesos. Well, being a student of Arts and Trades, I deemed it wise to put my knowledge to practice and take risks in engaging in business like an entrepreneur would, and so I did. I was so confident that I could increase my holdings, but the enterprise me and Quintino invested in was unfortunately put down to the ground and collapsed.

Damn that Quintino. I knew I shouldn't have bet on the white cock.

But then again, I cannot blame him for the bet he had made on our behalf. The white cock was bigger than its opponent, that it seems unlikely that the odds will be against us. But somehow, we still managed to lose that one hundred fifty peso bet when the smaller one managed to impale the neck of our contender with its tari when it pounced.

Sheer, dumb luck. It was a devastating thing to have lost our 'investments' looking back, so I just console myself with the thought that it was somehow a penance offering for placing a bet without dedicating it to a saint for luck. Anyway, sooner or later our fortune is sure to change one of these days. I just know it.

After a short while of resting my feet, I regained my strength and decided to walk away from the campus grounds and towards the pharmacy on the other side of the road. This is my only class tonight and I'm late anyway, so I might as well make use of my time on productive endeavors. If I can't make it to class, I might as well make some money.

And like a bolt of lightning, an idea crossed my mind and decided to go to the house of Señor Mercado, the owner of the general store I once worked for, to see if he has a job for me at his warehouse. Last I heard, his night watchman resigned from his work a few days ago to try his luck in Spain after he's saved enough money to secure a passport and to cover the other expenses on the trip, so I suppose it wouldn't hurt if I tried asking Señor Mercado for a quick one-time job as his watchman for the meantime since, after all, he needed someone to guard the warehouse. But as I'm making my way to his estate, I just had this weird feeling that there's some important matters that I missed to address. But I just try to shake off the thought - it's just probably my anxiety acting up again, anyway.

Señor Mercado is a generous man, and I was fortunate enough to have had him as my employer - allowing me to work as a store clerk whenever I don't have classes. He is a considerate man, always giving me an extra peso or two as a bonus to my daily wages so that I won't be lacking in school, and unlike the other Spanish entrepreneurs here in Manila, he is a caring soul and treats me and his other employees like family. To be honest, he was actually more fatherly to me than my real father, and I owe him a great deal for helping me and my sister get our primary and secondary education.

As I walked towards his residence, I entertained my idle mind with a plethora of thoughts and ideas.

As a start, I find the reinstatement and approval of the night class requests a very odd thing, considering the Jesuits don't usually grant these sorts of petitions their blessings, not to mention that these privileges are often reserved for students from certain fields - like medicine - and to add to that, the Captain General is reported to be adding more soldiers in Intramuros in anticipation of bolder attacks from a band of tulisanes, and therefore curfew is expected to be implemented. And yet the petitions for night classes didn't seem to hit some friction.

But then again, it's not my business to care. Besides, this is Intramuros, and this place is essentially a fortress on its own, so why should I worry? These night classes enabled me to get a job in a pharmacy just a few steps away from my school during the day. Three pesos for a day's work as a store clerk is quite generous, considering all I ever did was assist the pharmacist in selling medicine and sorting out the books and receipts.

Another thing that peeks my interest is that the new Captain General seems to be very...lax on the citizenry, unlike his predecessor. In such a short time, he was able to rally the people of the Philippines under his banner of a benevolent and just leadership. I admire His Excellency's liberal thinking and openness to criticism, because in my opinion, it helps in regaining the public's trust after all the shenanigans the former Captain General did to this country. Back then, during the time of our former Captain General Antonio Aquino, I was more worried that we're more likely to be mugged by the Guardia Civil rather than being attacked by tulisanes due to the fact that the Captain General Aquino did not take criticisms well, and so immense power and authority was bestowed upon law enforcement and the Civil Guard to ensure no one speaks out against him, effectively undoing the efforts of the late Captain General Ramon Montenegro, who was Aquino's predecessor and a stern advocate of freedom of speech.

Speaking of freedom of speech, lately I have noticed a great deal of change with the newspapers sold on the stands. For one, I noticed there are lesser pages on the papers that are about that old oaf Don Custodio and more about the young Pasig capitan municipal Florentino dela Peña, a rumored mestizo from a somewhat prominent Spanish family and a graduate of Philosophy. He was said to have won against Alejandro Severino by a large margin in the recent council election, effectively cutting down the generations-long dominance of the Severino family in Pasig.

Another thing that I noticed is the new publisher in town, who made their first release in May last year. "Diario de Manila" (The Manila Journal), if I remember its name correctly. What's very curious about this is that on their first month, a lot of the stands here in Intramuros alone has sold out hundreds of copies of the Diario de Manila newspapers, almost deposing the El Grito as the leading newspaper publisher that May - which, during that time, the widened conscription of Filipinos into the army was active, and rumors regarding coup d'etats and collaborations of high-ranking officials with the Americans was at an all-time high. Diario de Manila was generally unpopular among the common classes, but they were a fresh change of pace for their prospective readers - the intellectuals - and their news are more objective than their counterparts, which was praised widely by a number of ilustrados and members of the principalia in many municipalities for being brave in speaking out the truth despite the threat of arrest by the Captain-General Aquino's lackeys, because at the time, the Captain-General's office was being implicated in a conspiracy that the Philippines is secretly being sold to the Americans - which, after the appeal of our now Captain General Leonardo Montes to the high courts in Madrid nine months after, was actually proven true. One other notable thing about them is that the Diario de Manila, unlike El Grito or the other competition, is more oriented on local news rather than overseas, and as such, changed the way people see news on the papers - and to think that the editor-in-chief of Diario de Manila is of pure Spanish descent.

Lately the average learned Filipino has grown surprisingly scrutinizing of news following the exposé of the Diario de Manila journalist Mauricio Vidañez regarding the embellishments made in the articles by a certain El Grito journalist named Ben-Zayb, which happened in September of last year. The exposé revealed the tragic death of forty-four Filipino conscripts and Spanish officers who were sent on an expedition to hunt down the tulisanes hiding in the mountains near Tiani, which were reported by Ben-Zayb as a success by the government, when in fact what really happened was that the expedition was a complete disaster and the mismanagement and and ineffective leadership of the commanding officers led to their demise. Vidańez's claim was backed by official documents - casualty reports, withdrawal orders and the like - purposely hidden from the public, which was quite a scandal in those days. And it didn't help that the office of the Captain-General was put into question because of the rumors of his collaboration with the Americans. It was also explained in the exposé that prior to the expedition, the Spanish field officers have been begging for additional troops to properly engage the tulisanes, which by the accounts of the scouts number twofold the size of the forty-four soldiers, but was dismissed by the Captain General Aquino without any further explanation, suggesting his contribution to the downfall of the expedition.

The news took almost two pages of newspaper, and was probably the biggest one at the time and it caused quite a stir in Manila. Ben-Zayb, the established 'thinking head' of the Philippines, was mercilessly destroyed by the systematic debunking of a fresh journalist, and from an underdog newspaper publisher no less. The 'thinking head' of the Philippines was now caught between a rock and a hard place. However, since El Grito was a propaganda house for the Aquino leadership at the time and Ben-Zayb its lapdog, the infamous journalist was left alone in peace, and the newspaper publisher in question remained operational to this day. The journalist Mauricio Vidañez was jailed in an undisclosed location for charges of sedition, and was never heard from again until Montes came to power. News of Vidañez being summarily executed went around, but Diario de Manila continued delivering its news objectively despite their persecution. Recently though, Vidañez was confirmed to have been released from prison, safe and sound, and is still working for Diario de Manila.

And from then on, journalism in the Philippines was never the same.

And with that final thought, I finally reached the doorstep of Señor Mercado. For such a late time, the enormous house was still brightly lit and the windows wide open. From where I stood, I can smell the aroma of ham, fried pork, sarciado, the smell of adobo and sinigang being cooked, and...yes...that smell...pinakbet...Elena's favorite...

It didn't take long when Teresa, Elena's wet nurse, exited the kitchen to throw out some chicken blood when she took a quick glance outside of the house and noticed me.

"Oy, Kiko!" she called out to me, smiling. "Ali na dire! Mangaon na ta!" which I believe is an invitation for me to come and eat. Ahh...Aling Teresa, as always, talking to me in Visayan just to mess with me.

"Wa sigue! Mequeni pa! Atin cung sabian (All right! But come here first! I have something to tell you)" I replied in Kapampangan to reciprocate with her play with dialects. "Pota na cu mangan! (I'll dine with you later!)

"Say what again, dong?!" she replied in Tagalog, sounding a bit annoyed. "No need to call me 'puta' for no reason!"

"That's 'pota', Nanay Teresa. That means 'later'." I replied in Tagalog, snickering.

"Ahh. I see. Good! Because I do not tolerate a bad mouth and I will not hesitate to bathe you in chicken blood and ruin those fine clothes." replied Teresa, who then carefully poured the contents of the basin filled with chicken blood on a ditch not too far from the kitchen.

"Oh, why would I speak ill of my foster mother?!" I replied with slight frustration.

"Well, you've always been a bit of a rascal!" she replied with a short laugh. After she was done with her task, she then proceeded to walk towards me, and, with arms outstretched, wrapped her arms around my torso.

"Oh, come here, you! You have no idea how I've missed you, hijo!" she exhaled as I wrapped my arms around her frail and aging body.

"You smell as exquisite as ever." I remarked. "I see you've now donned the aroma of pinakbet."

"Oh, you little wretch." she replied as she affectionately kissed my forehead and caressed my cheeks. "If you weren't so rowdy, I would've adopted you by now."

"Perhaps. But you have to admit, you'd have the most handsome son in the world if you did." I replied jokingly.

"Oh, stop it, you! That pompous behavior is unbecoming of an ilustrado." she laughingly rebuked. "Come, we have a feast prepared. Señor Mercado will be pleased to meet you."

"Uhhh...out of curiosity...what's with all this food? What's the occassion?" I asked.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten." she answered with a hint of mild shock.

"Forgotten what?" I replied.

I then start to think hard, trying to remember what I missed. And then, I realized...

...Of course. The pinakbet. I can already smell its aroma paces away. She usually orders a cauldronful of such on these occassions...

"It's Elena's birthday, isn't it?" I exclaimed, unsure of my answer.

"You've forgotten it, haven't you?! She just told you yesterday!" she angrily answered. "Ahhh, you've been too absorbed with that studies of yours, you've forgotten the most special day in your childhood friend's life!"

"Not really! It's just that...ugh, all right, I actually forgot it. It's just that didn't think too much of it. I thought she was just joking about this. I mean, a feast in the middle of the night?!" I explained.

"Oh, don't worry. I thought so, too. Yet, here we are." Teresa agreed. "I'm her wet nurse, and yet I no longer understand what's going on in that dalaga's (lass's) head."

"But can I still come inside to eat, though? I'm quite famished."

"Well, sure, you're always welcome here." she replied. "Come, go on ahead inside. I'll just finish up with the tinola. Elena is waiting in the living room." she continued as she led me inside the house.

"Waiting? How come? Her reply didn't sound serious that time! Oh boy, here we go again." I sighed.

"She's been acting strange-like ever since that lad Carlito's been a regular visitor here." Teresa remarked. "For two straight years, I tell you! And still you choose to do nothing! What a fool!"

"Elena and I are close friends, nanay." I answered.

"Are you, now?" she replied with a challenging tone.

"By the way," I exclaimed, trying to change the subject, "is Señor Mercado home?" I asked.

"He's finishing his rounds with his patients. You know...the usual stuff. You know how busy doctors are these days. So many people getting sick." she answered.

"I see. Well then, I'll go on ahead upstairs and talk to Elena. And please, not a word! I'm dead if she finds out I forgot her birthday!" I replied, going ahead to the living room as instructed.

"If I were you, that would be the least of my worries. Think about what I told you!" was her reply before she went back to work, leaving my mind brimming with thoughts.

The way to the living room was quite tedious, as I needed to pass through the dining hall, which was peopled by attendants going to and from the kitchen, through a flight of stairs going to the second floor, and lastly, beyond a small library full of old books on Latin literature, for Señor Mercado is a patron of philosophy. As I approached, on the couch was seated a young woman with bright brown eyes, a straight nose, a fair skin and a pinkish pair of lips crowned with jet-black, wavy hair. She wore a cream-colored camisa and a blue skirt. Her looks are nothing short of angelic, and she had this serene radiance that is as warm as the early morning sun.

Elena and I go way back. I was thirteen when I was first introduced into the Mercado household as a helper in the estate along with my sister, who was twenty at the time and served as a cook. Having been orphaned at a young age after our father, who was a Spanish military official, was murdered in cold blood by a drunkard passing by the barracks where he was stationed and our mother, who is a Filipina, died of a heart attack, me and my sister had to rely on each other's strengths and wits to survive. It's also worth mentioning that a month after our mother died, our belongings and our estate were seized due to my father's alleged involvement in a conspiracy to overthrow the government, and so we were left with nothing but the clothes we wore and a few family heirlooms. We were thrown out into the streets of San Diego - cold, hungry and with no one to turn to for help. But then Señor Mercado, who was at the time the town physician in San Diego after it's former physician Dr. Espadaña disappeared, took pity on us and took us in as servants.

It was during the time Señor Mercado 'hired' us when I first met Elena, who is the same age as I am. The moment I laid eyes on her, I was outright stunned, for she was a creature of wondrous beauty, and at that moment, I just had a huge admiration for her. However, it was something that I kept as a secret even today. I like her, but she is a goddess among the boys, and an object of envy among girls - and I don't even have a family name to be proud of. Why would she even deign to notice me? But as the years went by, Elena showed me that she was the kind of woman that will break all of those expectations.

She wasn't like the other typical Spanish or Filipino girls from the higher circles of society, for she treats people whom society labels to be below her with sincere kindness and generosity - she even treated me like an equal! At first, I was shocked by how cordial she was when she's addressing me - as if I was never a servant in her house. Oftentimes, usually whenever I'm chopping up firewood, she has this habit of striking up conversations with me and tell stories about her life in Spain. I was a very quiet kid back then and I wasn't much for talking, not to mention that I didn't know much Spanish, but Elena compensated for this with her cheerful and talkative attitude - and the scraps of Tagalog that she had learned from her father, who learned the language through years of interacting with Filipino patients. She loved to talk about anything under the sun, and I loved to listen. Everytime she gets the chance, she'd chat me up like I was the most interesting person in the world. And of course, I would oblige. Would I say no to the girl that I most admire? With this, our relationship started to grow and our bond gradually strengthened, and before we even knew it, we became good friends.

As we grew older and became fonder of one another, our relationship grew more intimate, and all that time we were friends, I never told her how I feel. I was scared to death on what would possibly happen if she finds out, so I never gave it a thought and acted like it was nothing. She was already endeared and comfortable with me, what else could I ask for?! We'd covertly play mock games of revesino in her room, have fun smoking cigars, steal from her father's wine stores and secretly get drunk. Sometimes we'd sneak out at night, climb up the roof of the house and lay back watching the stars of the night sky from there as we talk about many things - including our secrets. She'd always tease me during our nights on the roof, always poking fun at my crooked lower teeth, and I with her quirks. She would also teach me Spanish, and I in turn taught her Tagalog and a bit of Kapampangan. She's a fast learner. In just two years of teaching her, she's able to argue with me or any Filipino for that matter in Tagalog.

During our birthdays, we'd have this custom wherein we buy each other gifts - she'd usually give me expensive ones, affluent as she is, and in exchange I'd buy her with whatever my modest salary as a pharmacy scribe can afford. In a manner of speaking, one would not call this a 'fair trade'. Damn, even I feel cheated on her behalf. There are even times that I'd miss her birthday just because I'd forgotten about it.

But she didn't mind. Hell, she never complained. Not once. Not ever. She is the kind of woman who'd give you a silver pocket watch and receive an embroidered handkerchief in exchange and she'd still be thrilled about it. And for that, I treasure her greatly. Even though there are times when she really annoys me with her antics, or the fact that she is probably the sassiest friend I've had in my entire life...or the thought that despite all the times we've shared, after all this time, I am but a good friend to her and nothing more...I don't mind. I'm willing to look past that, because she is just that important to me.

"Hey." I called out in Spanish. "Happy birthday, fart-face."

"Hmph!" she whimpered as she turned herself away, trying to avoid my stare.

"What? That upset you already?" I asked. "I was barely even mean to you! Aww, did that hurt, my dea...wait...a-are you actually mad at me?!"

"Oh, am I mad at you Kiko?! Of course I'm not!" she roared in Tagalog. "I just overheard you talking to Teresa earlier and you just outright admitted that you forgot that today's my birthday! Oh no, don't worry. I am not mad. I'm furious!" she replied with the wrath of a thousand hells. "Jose Francisco Esteban Perez y Dela Cruz, I can't believe that you would do this to me....AGAIN! And on my 21st birthday no less!"

She then took a deep breath before continuing, "But I am an understanding person, and since I am a forgiving friend, I will give you a chance to explain. Do you have an excuse?"

My heart skipped a beat. I didn't know she was able to eavesdrop on us from this part of the house. Damn, she is still as keen as a bat!

She has this very distinct antic that I'm all too familiar with. The sharpness in her words...her calling me by my full name is just very ominous in its own right that it just sends shivers down my spine.

She then stood up and stormed towards me, her face fuming in anger.

"Come on now, what's your excuse this time, huh?!" she sternly demanded. "No, actually, let me guess what you're going to tell me this time: 'oh, I aM sO sOrRy, eLEna, i'Ve beEn tOo BuSy wITh mY sTUdies lAtEly, tOo BuSy mEMoRiZinG tHiS aNd thAT, sO I kINd oF fOrgOT toDaY is yOur bIrtHdAY!'" she mocked. "You've been doing this to me every single time since you studied in college, Kiko! Every. Single. Time! Here I am, disappointing my other friends and changing my plans in the hopes that I can celebrate with you THIS TIME!

'Oh, papa, Kiko told me that he has work during the day and he's taking his classes at night. I want him to be able to attend on my birthday. He said he would be available after class at eleven. Can we move the celebration late in the evening instead?'.

And what do I get? You visit our house in the middle of the night, and I, seeing you walking down our front door, believed that this time, you have remembered - but surprise, surprise! No! You forgot! You always do, for the past five years! You probably just went here to borrow money from papa again!"

I was taken aback, as I've never seen her this upset over a birthday celebration before. We've had a few childish quarrels before about this and I expect it to be just the same tonight because she never makes a big deal out of these things, but tonight she's unusually cross and I just can't figure out why!

"I am sorry I forgot, all right? I know how frustrated you are right now-"

"Oh, you have no idea how frustrated I am right now, Francisco! Believe me!" she interrupted.

"Look, would I have missed this celebration had I known you were actually serious about yesterday? I didn't think too much of it because it didn't seem then that this feast would actually materialize. Besides, how could I have possibly anticipated that-"

I paused, trying to process what she had just said a while back.

"What?!" she asked. "Come on, out with it!"

"Wait a minute...did you just say that you went through with those last minute changes...just for me?"

"W-what?! O-of course not! I don't remember saying anything to that effect! How dare you assume that!" she adamantly protested. "And why are you smiling?!"

"What?! It's nothing! I'm just happy to see you! It's not like I'm saying that you fancy me or anything. Anyway, if you wanted me to come, you could have just shown me you were serious!" I complained as my eyebrows met in my bewilderment.

"I WAS serious!" Elena parried.

"Elena, when I told you 'I might be available after my night class at 11, can I still come?', you replied with 'Oh yes, of course! I live to serve at the pleasure of the king! 11 it is! Why not?! Let me just tell my other friends the good news!'. How in the world would I take that seriously?!"

"You've known me for many years! How come you don't know what I was trying to say?!" she protested.

"Unbelievable." I whispered under my breath. "Well, you sure sounded like you're being objectively sarcastic. How am I supposed to know you were serious?!" I shrugged.

I then took a deep breath before continuing. "What is the problem here, really? Elena, is there something that you need to tell me?"

She then averted her gaze as she retreated into silence.

"Look Elena, I've known you for many years." I spoke softly as I took her hand. "You've never been this cross over me missing your birthday celebration. If there was something that I did in the past that upset you greatly, please, tell me. I want to fix that with you. Right now. I don't want to see you spend your birthday celebration feeling upset. Are you angry because I missed your past five birthdays? Guilty as charged. I am really sorry. But...I'm doing...all of this...because of you. I've always dreamed of the day that you don't have to endure the shame of being acquainted with a man with nothing to his name. I strive and work hard everyday towards my goal of becoming one of the ilustrados because you don't deserve being made fun of because of me. I'm your best friend, Elena. You know I'll do anything for you."

At this, Elena sighed as she began to slowly calm down. "Francisco, I never cared about what other people think. You're fine just the way you are." she answered as she firmly grasped my hand.

Minutes later, her eyes began to swell.

"I...I just want you to be here, Francisco. I....I've missed you so much."

There was obviously nothing more to be said. At this, I pulled her close and held her tight. She tightly wrapped her hands around my waist, and buried herself onto my chest.

She then began to sob, and I can feel my clothes soaking in tears. Her eyes...they clearly speak of longing, and I just couldn't help but feel guilty for all those years of not being there when she needed me. Perhaps I was too busy with my studies. Five years of barely even visiting her when it is within my power to do so must have really taken a toll on her.

"All right. Hush now. You're just trying to get your snot all over my coat now." I jokingly rebuked.

She responded with a muffled chuckle

"Shut up. I hate it when you ruin my moment." she complained with a short laugh as she withheld her embrace, lightly beating my chest with her fist in protest.

"You look beautiful in that dress, you know that?" I complimented. "You should wear that more often."

"W-why, thank you, you're so swee...I...I mean...o-of course I'm beautiful, regardless of what I wear! Who do you take me for?!" she hesitantly roared, obviously flustered. "Just admit it! Right from the start you've always liked me!" she bragged.

"Ha! In your dreams!" I parried with a snicker. I went silent for a moment before continuing our conversation. "By the way, uhh...I'm sorry I can't get you any gifts this time. My school fees are expensive as hell."

"It's all right." she smiled as she took my hand. "You're here. That's all that matters."

She then made a pause, as if reconsidering whatever she had to say next.

"Uhh, Francisco, I have something important to tell you. I'm unsure of the wisdom of telling you this, but-"

"Oh, I know, I know. I look so handso-"

"Carlito has been asking me to marry him, Francisco." she abruptly interrupted.

I went silent for a few seconds.

"Oh." I muttered. "Is this the reason why you badly wanted me to attend the celebration this time?"

"Yes." she replied. " I thought you should know."

Her eyes gazed directly into mine as she held my hands tightly. "He's been courting me for two years now. My father gave us his blessing and all he needs now is my answer."

"And what did you say?" was my brief answer, my heart throbbing as I anticipated her next words.

"The truth is...I didn't give him an answer yet." she replied softly.

"Really?" I asked, astounded by this answer. "How come?"

She lowered her head.

"You see, I...I'm already in love with someone else."

I was completely silent, as I did not expect what I heard - or perhaps, I just didn't want what I'm about to hear. I was at a loss for words. I felt my heart sinking and my eyes started to water, but I held it in as much as I could. I suppose the day that I feared the most has finally come, but I dare not break down in front of her now.

"I honestly don't know what to do. I wanted to give Carlito a chance, but at the same time...I can't, because my heart still belongs to someone else...someone who may or may not love me the way I love him. I...I'd like to know your thoughts about this." she softly asked, her eyes widening in anticipation.

"I see." I sighed. "How long have you known each other, anyway? Your...lover, I mean."

"Long enough." she replied briefly, smiling as we exchanged glances. "We have known each other for a long time now. I'm just...waiting for him to make his move."

My heart sank further, for the thought of her keeping this from me for a very long time was enough to crush me. I felt desolate and frustrated to say the least, but I dare not show it to her now.

If I am to lose her to someone else, so be it! I'm not about to let my emotions ruin out long years of friendship.

"Well, if that's the case...I'd say follow your heart. Do what makes you happy. What is the point of marrying a man that you don't love?" I said.

"I was hoping you'd say something better than that." she muttered.

"What's that?" I asked, pretending I didn't hear her the first time.

"Nothing." she said, trying to dismiss my question. "Well, I suppose you can say it like that. But...it's not that simple. I...I'm not sure if I can tell him how I feel."

"You've known him for a long time, do you not? There is no other way. Sooner or later, something has to give...or else, nothing at all. Just tell him how you feel." I suggested casually. "What's stopping you? It's just that sim-"

"You think it's that easy Francisco?!" she ranted. "Do you have any idea what I have at stake here?! You're just probably saying that because you've got virtually nothing to lose!"

"...Why are you so angry at me all of a sudden? I only asked-"

"That's because I love you so much!" she declared. "...you idiot..."

"W-what?!" I asked, outright dumbfounded by this profound moment.

"You're an idiot! That's what I'm saying!" she ranted. "I just told you loud and clear what I felt for you, and still you're standing there like a damn moron who doesn't know any-"

I didn't hesitate any further as I lunged towards her and pressed her lips onto mine, and devoured her like a predator feasting on his hunt. All that tension has inevitably caught up with me as I savor the taste of her lips. She did not back away, as I expected her to do - but rather pulled herself closer to me, eager to give herself like a lamb offering its flesh to the wolf. It was as if my primal insticts have taken the better of me, and Elena's allure was nothing less of irresistable. She responded to my kisses, and held my arms tight as if she herself cannot resist my lips. Without a second thought, my lips started journeying downward as Elena deliberately exposes her neck. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I cannot stop. Elena's vulnerability awakened a thirst that I never thought existed within me.

"Oy! Elena! Kiko! Dinner's ready!" said a voice coming up the stairs as the sound of footsteps became more audible. "Mangaon na ta! The tinola is fresh and tast-....Dios mio! What in the world are you doing?!"

Upon hearing this, Elena immediately broke away and turned herself away from me. I, on the other hand, was thunderstruck. It felt as if I was just suddenly awakened from my dream.

"Oh, goodness! I seem to have forgotten to remove the pinakbet from the fire. I...I'll have to go downstairs again." said Teresa, who seemingly tucked tail and ran as she went down the stairs.

"I-I'm sorry, Teresa. I...I am ashamed of myself...please don't tell my father." Elena apologized, drawing herself away from me.

The sound of footsteps seemed to stop at this response.

"Oh, don't worry hija. I won't tell your father." Teresa assured. "As for you, you good-for-nothing rascal," Teresa continued, who seemed to address me, "take care of the señorita for me, will you? If I ever got word of you hurting her, you'd be in a world of pain Kiko! Am I understood?!"

"Nothing bad shall befall your little señorita, Aling Teresa." I replied. "I swear this on my honor."

"Good." Teresa affirmed. "Because I will cut off your manhood if I hear anything unsavory about you!"

Elena and I chuckled at this sentiment. I pulled her close to me once more, and Elena just seemed to simply encourage my act.

"We'll see you downstairs." I announced as Teresa waved us goodbye.

Now, as the living room seemed to be devoid of anybody except me and Elena, my hands slid on the side of her neck. There was nothing stopping me from pulling her close, as my lips reached for hers once more. Elena was receptive, as she herself drew her head close to me without any reservation.

This night is simply the happiest day of my life. My mind has laid down any restraints that it had, for in this moment, I have come to understand what it felt like when two kindred souls meet in this life.

"What took you so long to realize?" Elena complained as she withdrew her lips to speak.

"Does that really matter?" I joked, puling her close.

Elena pouted her lips, as if to complain on my answer. "...Yes. Somehow I feel you owe me a great deal of love and affection. I waited six years for this moment!"

"Well, did I not deliver?" I jokingly replied.

"...Not really..." she answered as she pulled my head towards hers to kiss me.

"You owe me a lot for that kiss." I jested.

"Oh, is it now?" she taunted. "Well, how do want that settled then?"

I smiled, and pulled her close to kiss her one more time before retiring downstairs. But as my lips were about to touch hers, I was startled by the sound of a loud BANG!

Rifle gunshot.

"W-what's that?!" Elena said frantically.

"It must be the tulisanes. Get down!" I replied as I pulled her to cover, crouching away from the window. Two more shots followed.

"Elena, I want you to crawl towards the bookcases and take cover there. Do not, under any circumstances, go out of hiding until I get to fetch you. Do you understand?" I instructed her, trying to be as calm as I can.

"A-all right, Kiko. I'll...I'll do as you say. But where are you going? Don't tell me you're going out there?!"

More shots were fired outside, and although weak, I can hear the faint sounds of the screams of men fighting in the distance.

"I have to do this, Elena. Señor Mercado hasn't returned yet and I'm the only one here capable of finding him. I'll fetch the other attendants downstairs to go up. Once they're up here, barricade the doors. Do not come out unless I or Señor Mercado calls out."

"All right. I-I'll see to it. Be careful out there, you hear?!" she commanded as surprised me with a long, smack kiss.

"Oh, I will, all right." I smilingly teased as I softly pinched her cheeks.

"Are you going to be all right out there?" Elena asked.

"Well, you know me...I'm the type that always fancies an adventure in the innards of Tondo." I joked.

At this, I took off immediately as I rushed downstairs towards the kitchen. I can still hear the firefight going on outside. Every minute that passes makes my worry for Señor Mercado worse. His age is starting to catch up with him, not to mention that he never heeded my advice in getting a revolver to protect himself since the bulk of his rounds are usually at night. By the time I reached the kitchen, I saw the attendants - mostly female - taking cover under the table and behind the walls, understandably scared for their lives.

"Everyone, listen to me!" I announced as I rose and took cover behind a wall. "Please stay calm! I am Francisco dela Cruz, a good friend of Señor Mercado. I want everyone to go upstairs and hunker down. Barricade the entrance with anything heavy you can find and do not come out until I or Señor Mercado says so."

"Where are you going, Kiko?! It's dangerous out there!" Teresa warned sternly as she held on to the knife she was probably using earlier.

"I have to find Señor Mercado, nanay (mother). He's all alone out there." I replied.

"Are you insane?! It's dangerous out there! Do you think Señor Mercado will want you to risk your life?!"

"I'd imagine not, nanay." I answered with a smile. "But I'm not about to abandon the closest thing I had to a father."

"There's no convincing you otherwise, is it?" she replied. "Very well, we'll head upstairs and wait. I and Mang Karding will take things from here. You better come back here alive, you rascal."

"As you say, Nanay Teresa." I replied as I set out into the field of battle.