Chapter 1 The Encounter

Ella, a whirlwind of controlled energy in a sharp, tailored pantsuit, the faint scent of expensive vanilla clinging to her like a second skin, accepted the congratulations with a dazzling smile that didn’t quite reach her slightly tired eyes. Three years of navigating the cutthroat world of advertising had etched fine lines around those eyes, a testament to her relentless ambition. Her dark hair, usually styled in a sleek updo, was loosened tonight, cascading in soft waves around her shoulders, a subtle rebellion against the usual corporate formality.

The celebratory candles flickered, their warm light reflecting in the amber liquid of her champagne flute, the delicate crystal cool against her fingertips, a stark contrast to the steely determination that usually characterized her demeanor, the faint tingle of the chilled champagne a momentary respite from the relentless pressure. The low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses in the opulent setting of "The Gilded Lily" – a bar known for its plush velvet seating and dimly lit corners – formed a comforting backdrop to her success.

 

Matt, on the other hand, was a study in controlled chaos. His usually neatly-trimmed beard was slightly unkempt, the rough stubble scratching against his skin, a discomfort he barely registered amidst the swirling haze of the bar. The low lighting of The Gilded Lily cast long shadows, accentuating the dark circles under his eyes. His normally sharp features were softened by a drunken haze, his breath carrying the sharp tang of stale beer and something else… something indefinably bitter. The plush velvet of the banquette he occupied felt strangely clammy against his skin. His eyes, normally a warm, inviting brown, were now bloodshot and unfocused, swimming in a sea of reddish-tinged whites, their usual sparkle dulled by the dim light reflecting off the polished mahogany bar.

 

He was a large man, his broad shoulders and powerful frame usually exuding an easy confidence, but tonight, that confidence was replaced by a desperate, almost animalistic need to escape; the weight of his expensive tailored shirt feeling heavy and suffocating on his skin, the thick, smoky air of the bar clinging to him like a shroud. Toffee, his friend, sat perched on a high stool at the bar, the cool, polished wood a stark contrast to the plush velvet of Matt's banquette. Lean and wiry, with sharp, observant eyes that missed nothing, he watched Matt with a mixture of concern and weary resignation. His neatly-groomed hair and impeccably pressed shirt spoke of a meticulous nature, the crisp cotton cool against his skin, a stark contrast to Matt's disheveled appearance.

 

His quiet demeanor hinted at a deep well of patience, the quiet click of his ice against his glass the only sound he made amidst the lively chatter of the bar, but his anxious gaze betrayed the worry churning beneath the surface; the metallic tang of anxiety coating his tongue. The faint scent of expensive cigars hung heavy in the air around him, a familiar aroma in this exclusive establishment.

 

Matt and Toffee's other friend, was the picture of boisterous energy, his laughter echoing off the high, ornate ceilings of The Gilded Lily. Short and stocky, with a perpetually mischievous grin, he exuded a confident swagger, the faint scent of his expensive cologne cutting through the smoky haze of the bar. His brightly colored shirt and loud laugh drew attention, a stark contrast to both Matt's brooding silence and Toffee's quiet concern. He was the life of the party, a master of distraction, but even his usual exuberance couldn't mask the underlying tension he sensed in the air; the rhythmic thump of the bass vibrating through the floor into his feet.

 

He gestured expansively, his hand brushing against the cool, smooth surface of a nearby marble table.Even the women circling Matt were described with more detail: their laughter was a little too loud, echoing slightly off the polished bar top, their perfume a little too strong, cloying and sweet, their smiles a little too practiced—all hinting at a predatory energy that only served to highlight Matt's vulnerability; the clinking of their glasses a sharp counterpoint to the low thrum of unease in the air. The soft glow of the bar's ambient lighting highlighted the gleam of their jewelry and the sheen of their perfectly applied makeup.

 

"Cheers, guys! I love you, everyone! Ella said. She and her advertising department colleagues clinked their cold beers together, shouting "Cheers!" They were at an exclusive bar for a company dinner. Her friends teased her to blow out the candles, as today was a big day for her. Ella, an executive assistant, had achieved this promotion after three years of hard work and perseverance. Competition was fierce in their company. You had to be one of the best to be considered for a promotion.

Many people envied Ella for this promotion. After all, she was relatively new to the company compared to the long-time employees. But she believed in working hard rather than going with the flow. Despite her haters, many people supported her and believed in her abilities. Ella was living the life of a millennial woman: single, successful, and alone. She had been in her apartment for almost six years. Yes, she had a good relationship with her landlady, who was kind and not a gossip. She paid her rent on time. She knew that money talked all the time, so she had no problems there.

She had a sister, but she was living with a relative in Bohol. Her sister was a PWD ("deaf"), so she shouldn't have lived in Manila alone. So, with money talking again, her aunt agreed to have her sister live with them, paying the right price. Their parents passed away after she graduated from college. Typhoon Undoy took their parents' lives.

 

"Mam Ella, the night is young, let's enjoy," said a colleague, inviting her to the dance floor. Ella happily joined him, with other office mates joining them. She wanted to enjoy herself, and why not? She had been working her butt off for this promotion.

 

Meanwhile, in a corner of the bar...

"Bro, good thing you came," Brix greeted his friend Toffee, then they did their group handshake. Then he looked around.

 

"Where is Matt?" Toffee asked anxiously. Brix pointed his nose at Matt, who was in a corner of the bar. He seemed drunk. Two women who looked like regulars at this bar were talking to him. And by looking at them, he was already drunk. Toffee approached Matt and reminded him to slow down his drinking because he was already drunk. Matt looked up at him with puppy-dog eyes, but they were reddish.

 

"You're here, bro. Have a seat, and let's enjoy the night. It's my birthday, remember?" Matt invited Toff. The young man immediately sat down opposite Matt's table. One of the women who had been stroking Matt's arm shifted her attention to Toffee. Toffee felt uneasy, especially when he smelled the woman's perfume. He hated women's scents.

 

"Why so stiff, bro? Relax and enjoy. You're already late, and you're such a killjoy," Matt scolded his friend. Toffee didn't respond. He just stared at Matt. He knew why Toffee was acting that way. He knew very well what it was all about.

How could he forget? He hated those things. He was already drunk, but he wanted to drink more. Matt wanted to get drunk on alcohol like there was no tomorrow. Yes, he wanted no tomorrow. He hated waking up every day.