Chapter 1: Pseudo-studio

“Relationships are overrated,” Mea blurted out.

She and her friends were talking about how college people staying in hotels often end up hooking up. The idea just grossed Mea out. She sat on the window seat beside Renee while rummaging through her bag. Pamela and Mary Ann sat in front of them. The bus passed under an arc of Welcome sign across the highway. It has been six hours since they boarded in the morning, and they’ll arrive at the hotel by night.

“Well yeah, but we didn’t say you should enter a relationship,” explained Pamela in front of her. She smirked and looked eye to eye with the three ladies. Immediately, they knew what she was thinking. “It won’t be a relationship, and it won’t be just one,” Pamela added.

Mea finally found her earphones, plugged them into her phone, and played music. “Spare me your plans, alright? You keep your boys, I keep my silence. Just two weeks, I beg you, guys.”

She wasn’t in the mood for music right now but for the sake of silencing her flirty girly friends, she’d stare at the 4 p.m. sun and watch its cinematic rays passing through the gaps of the trees. As a cottagecore girl and a certified plant lover, it wasn’t hard to focus on the scenery.

The chitchat of her three friends faded into murmurs against the song now playing on her head. Even though she could hear her name, she didn’t mind them anymore.

Her thoughts drifted to her parents she’ll be seeing shortly. In contrast to her perspective on relationships, her parents were pretty much a great couple. They would talk about relationship issues of teens on the internet and would laugh, thinking Mea’s generation has been caught in love potions – but not for men. For the idea of romance. 

It was ironic to hear it in family dinner when her Mom and Dad were spoon-feeding each other. “Speak for yourselves, guys,” Mea said that night and endured to finish dinner despite the view. Man, it was hard.

Even though she acted unbothered that night, she lay on her bed staring at her ceiling thinking about it. Is it really that good? But I’m good by myself, I don’t need to be better, she thought. Reminiscing those, Mea looked up to the clouds that started to paint themselves orange. So much for trying to think about love. For her, it’s as unnecessary as obsessing to reach the clouds.

Erric Lin could almost touch the clouds. He had his fingers on his window seat on the plane. The Singapore Suites was comfortable enough for him, but there was something more soothing with setting your face an inch away from the window as if there was no glass at all.

He was disturbed by a knock on the division that separated him from the next suite, which was his youngest brother’s. The division was high enough even to prevent passengers from peeking to the other suite, but Paul Sohan Lin could be standing on his table. “I got a chat from Diana, she’s asking where you are. Should I tell her you came with us?” he asked.

Before Erric could answer, his brother in the suite across from him spoke first. “She’s gonna know anyway. Back at the lounge in the airport, some people recognized Erric,” Kent Lin said among the squeaks of his chair. He kept turning around and Erric wished he'd fall. He wore a white long-sleeved polo and a tie that flies when he turns fast. He's so childish. It's hard to believe that this guy is older than him. “I was even asked to take their picture, and Erric did not tell them who I was,” Kent Lin complained and closed his door using his foot.

Erric closed his door too to prevent another bother. “Tell her I’ll chat now,” he said looking back at Paul Sohan. He went out of his view followed by a thud. The nitwit jumped off alerting the staff. He could hear him explain he’s alright and he wants more food. He sighed and took his phone from his desk that sat among the drinks he was served when they boarded earlier. He took a sip of the vodka from the frustration of his plan already failing despite not having reached the Philippines yet.

99+ friend requests, 58 group notifications, 99+ chats, 99+ notification

Erric sighed again. Too surreal, he thought upon seeing the numbers. He hasn’t been checking most of them so they don’t go zero at all. What he was seeing now was just the pile of those he hasn’t viewed yet. Or not, but that’s how he wants to think about it.

He typed in the name Diana Pereira and tapped on the first account in the result. It would be hard to search her message in the chat app since Erric has a lot of them unread. He proceeded to open her chatbox, and there were 49 unread messages from Diana. They just talked this lunch but she bombarded him chats already.

She was asking if he was at the airport, and where he would go. There were also screenshots of a post with the photo Kent took of him and a fan at the lounge. There was another photo of him boarding the plane, one of which he was not aware of. Erric decided, there is something creepy about being famous.

He disregarded all the messages except her question of where he will go.

Erric: to Singapore

Diana is typing…

Erric sighed for the third time. He hated it whenever he chats with somebody and that somebody starts typing a reply. As much as possible, he wanted to reply once and shut his phone again, but now he’s doomed with the guilt of leaving that annoying somebody unreplied.

Diana: why haven’t you told me?

Erric: stop feeling like a possessive girlfriend

But he deleted that instead of pressing send.

Erric: you would know even if I don’t tell you. And stop chatting Sohan

Erric muted Diana’s chat and threw his phone on the soft bench beside the door. He brushed his fingers through his hair and remained ducking, staring at his shoes. Diana is a stalker. He met her at the opening of the franchise of the Pereira Boutique that his family bought for Marina South in Singapore. But back in those days, she still had her dignity with her, behaving modestly, polite, and beautiful—Eric wouldn't deny that. But Erric never goes outside except for family events, so Diana always had to contact him through his social media accounts, just like all his other fans. Erric grew tired of this of course as she became demanding. There was a certain something Diana felt that he had actually seen Erric, even once only.

She was also a socialite, always with her cousins, joining pageants, in magazines, parties, and everything. It was since that day that her posts changed from fashion styles to Erric’s entire life. She knew what he does at home from his brothers, she knew what he does outside from the internet. She figures everything out. She even went to desperate measures such as hiring a photographer whenever his family announced an event soon to come. Erric would always be present. He felt like a suspect being investigated.

“Erric.” He looked up to his door.

Deuss Lin opened it. He has changed his clothes to the sleepwear from the plane. Gray sleeves and pants and he's got the plane's headphones around the back of his neck. His bleached long hair was let down an inch past his shoulders, and it made him look more like just at home. “We'll be eating together. In Thor’s suite,” he said, pointing behind him with his thumb.

Erric nodded. “Yeah, sure.” Deuss and Erric understood each other. Both of them are famous and they've been on photoshoots together. They're known for their opposite yet familiar atmosphere. Deuss is black cold, and Erric is white cold.

As Deuss left, a stewardess came forward and a meaningful glance traveled among their eyes. She wore the Singapore Airlines’ signature kebaya uniform – a blouse with a bell sleeve with a full-length zipper at the middle front and a long wrap skirt, printed with batik. Erric remembered being taught about this at home, part of the knowledge a renowned family must know. His mother was a good friend of the designer of kebaya, Pierre Balmain. They went to fashion school together and had a group of friends who are now the best designers around the world, including Reanna Castro-Lin, his mother.

The steward handed Erric the same set of clothing his brother was wearing, a small bag he assumed was a hygiene kit, and the headphones. But he still dwelled on what the glance between this girl and his brother meant.

She opened the small wardrobe behind the bench and hinted to Erric about all sorts of towels hung inside. He thanked the lady and smiled, she gasped and blushed hard long enough before hesitating to leave. 

What was that hesitation about? Did she think he'd let her help him change clothes as Deuss did? But it was only Erric’s assumption. Being the closest brother, it wasn't hard for him to guess that Deuss made a move to the woman, and now she thought he'd do the same.

Another stewardess appeared outside his door, and he noticed she’s having trouble suppressing her smile. He hasn’t even done anything but the woman seemed like something special was between them, but only she knew. “Sir, we’ll be serving your dinner now.”

Erric leaned right to peek at the next ladies behind her, and he saw them carrying covered trays. “Right,” Erric stood. “My brothers and I will be eating together, you could bring my food there.” He walked past the woman and onto Thor’s suite.

The last time they ate together outside their home, the brothers played with his phone, taking his pictures and sending them to every woman he hasn’t replied to. Screenshots of their conversations with the hashtag ErricRepliedToMe went trending on all platforms. Erric knew it would happen again.

Mea Cristy Del Bien stepped off the bus and fixed the backpack straps on her shoulders. She also carried a duffel bag she won from her first-year college fashion photo competition. UP Aperture was hand-knitted on the thick straps and the logo was on the sides of the bag. It was a camera’s half-open aperture blades and an eye at the center. She loved being part of that group aside from her academic hustles. Her winning photo was a bird’s eye view of Mary Ann wearing Pamela’s floor-length sky-blue chiffon dress. Renee held a projector beside the camera that made an illusion of the dress blending with the floor, having the projected image of calm ocean ripples. She loved the girls and each of their hustles.

Renee was on her phone talking to someone, probably her parents. “We just arrived at the hotel. We’ll pay a visit tomorrow, I promise.” Renee was an only child and it made her ultimately close to her parents. She had the privilege of obtaining everything she ever wanted, both the material things and the abstracts – their time, their attention.

She turned towards the girls carrying their own bags. “Let’s go, it’s hot out here, I’m burning,” she said before turning to walk towards the entrance. She perfectly fits the role of her squad’s spoiled rich kid, but polite version. Except to men. She played with them like expensive toys.

The Marison Hotel lit up against the night sky. The paved walk lit up on the edges that touched the grass. “The Marison Hotel” was written on the round edge of the building lit up in gold. Yellow lanterns were attached on each post of the first and third floor exterior like billboard lights, and red rails surrounded the balcony of the second floor.

Upon entrance, Pamela immediately put down her bags on the sofas in the lobby. “Mea! Take a picture of me.”

“Yeah right,” Mea could only sigh.

She still couldn’t believe Pamela was still dressed glamorously on a bus trip. Even Renee wore simple clothing despite being the richest among them.

Pamela sat on the chair closest to the window. She took her cartwheel hat off next to her, still visible in the camera’s sight. Her pink asymmetrical hem dress revealed her knee when she crossed her legs. She picked up a magazine and flipped its pages, pretending to read. “Candid?” she asked.

Mea, searching for her camera in her backpack, looked at her and to the ceiling. She studied the lights and the window’s modern design, as well as the faint lights outside. “No,” she said. As she found her camera, she opened it, focused on Pamela, and adjusted the settings. Then she looked around for staff. “Excuse me,” she called a lady on a black vest and pencil skirt uniform. “Can we move the chair for a bit? We just need a picture.”

Mary Ann suddenly stood an inch away from Mea and whispered awkwardly, “That’s embarrassing, maybe we could take a pic without moving anything?” Mea chuckled, looking away from the staff.

“It’s fine, don’t worry,” Mea whispered back.

The staff nodded at them and signaled a few men to help move furniture. It was supposedly just the chair, but upon seeing how it turned out, Mea wasn’t satisfied. She asked them to move some pots of plants, floor lamps, the table, and even asked them to stand outside the window to be included in the photo. She was making it a studio.

In the end, Pamela stood behind the low coffee table and Mary Ann sat on the couch holding Pamela’s hat to hang down her knees. Both looked fiercely at the camera as Mea took her shots.

Renee finished with her chatting at the reception desk, and she wouldn’t let them take pictures without her. So they ended up taking groupies on the newly-adjusted shooting site.

They used all the props that Mea provided them. A glass of water, the hotel’s pamphlet, the tall indoor plant, and even the male staff’s hand. They tried all sorts of poses. Candid, fierce, wacky, and the formal shoulder show-off pose in Metro’s magazines. It was one of Mea’s dreams, to have a shoot for the Metro.

           

Erric Lin stepped off the van first. The Marison Hotel offered them a lift from Legazpi City Airport, and it was most convenient. They had a chat with the driver too and told them about the amenities they could enjoy, especially the gym.

Erric snapped a pic of the hotel out front and posted it on his social media account. Then he rushed to turn on his do not disturb feature because the notifications were about to make a mess of his screen. It was late when he remembered he decided not to post during vacation. He posted out of habit.

The staff carried all their bags and they climbed the stairs towards the entrance. The flash of a camera and girls giggling welcomed them.

“I hear my dinner already,” Kent spoke brushing his palms together.

“We ate dinner at the plane already,” said Deuss. “I had an appetizer before that.” The boys looked at him understanding what he meant. He had that stewardess real good.

Stepping inside the lobby, they saw three girls hugging each other on the waist and a woman with her camera on a tripod.

Thor looked around and the furniture seemed jumbled. He chuckled and knew it was an unprepared photoshoot – he’s been at one before. “Good evening, ladies,” Thor greeted. They looked so stunned to reply immediately, or so Thor thought before one of them answered.

“Good evening. You.. kind of distracted my models, I guess. You’re also inframe of my camera, or am I looking at it wrong? I don’t know.”

The boys nodded in accordance, they knew the girl didn’t know who they were. One of the models rushed to her side whispering to her ear. The revelation was visible to her face.

Still, the woman did not submit to their reputation. “May we help you? We’re kinda rushing. A tiring ten-hour bus ride, hmm.” The girl wore dark green track pants and a plain fitted white blouse.

Kent walked forward, noticing the dominating appeal she had. “I’m Kent Lin, model, so are my brothers,” he gestured to them and extended his hand.

“Mea Del Bien, photographer,” the woman asked. “These are my friends, they’re not models.”

The three women looked at her disappointed. They can’t believe that was her introduction. Before they could introduce themselves, Erric spoke from behind his brothers. “We’re hiring.” He stepped forward while taking his phone from his pocket and handing it forward. “Vacation photographer.”

Then he looked at her.

She had lightning in her eyes frozen in dark purple irises – a match to the black thunderclouds that’s always been in his.