Gypsy’s Great Engineer Chase

"Gypsy, it's so obvious you're just trying to get attention from the boys in the Engineering Department. Aren't you even a little bit embarrassed? Almost all of them have been your exes!" Melisa, her best friend, ranted non-stop, never holding back.

Gypsy just rolled her eyes, as if Melisa's words had any real power over her. So what if she managed to go through every guy in the department? What difference did it make to her?

She knew that Melisa was just concerned. After all, with all the boyfriends she had, it was no surprise that people had started to call her a playgirl, a flirt, a tease—spreading hurtful rumors and disgusting descriptions of her. Tsk. They were just insecure, and that made her best friend even more worried.

Melisa always confronted her, pointing out the things she did that affected her image at school. She couldn’t stand it when people talked behind Gypsy’s back, creating false stories and issues that weren’t even true. As her best friend, Melisa hated seeing her dragged down by all the gossip, and so she would repeat the same reminders over and over again. It was her way of trying to get Gypsy to realize the consequences of her actions, even though Gypsy was never one to listen.

"Stop that, Mel," Gypsy said softly, almost indifferently. "You know your words don’t change me." She said it as if it was the simplest truth in the world, reminding her friend that no matter what she said, her habits wouldn’t change. She was used to switching boyfriends, used to flirting with the engineering students. Why should it bother her now?

"We’re about to graduate, Mel. You know my dreams, my ideal future. I want to be with an engineer, someone who’ll be with me for the rest of my life. So, starting now, I’m going to search for the man I’ll marry—my future engineer husband," she said, her voice dreamy and full of excitement. She even raised an eyebrow, her eyes squinting as she imagined it all, completely lost in the fantasy of her perfect future.

"Stop with that nonsense, Gypsy. That's not good for you anymore. Don’t search for him. Just wait for him to come to you," Melisa said, concerned.

"Wait? You know waiting’s never been my thing. I'm not like Juan Tamad, just sitting around waiting for the guava fruit to fall. If there’s something I want, and I know I can do something about it, I’ll make it happen. I don’t wait—I take action, the way I always do."

Her voice was firm, as if she was declaring her independence once again. She had always been the kind of person to take control of her own fate, never just waiting for things to come to her.

She remained silent. She didn’t want to wait for grace to come her way. It wasn’t in her nature to just sit back and do nothing about the things she wanted to achieve. Everything she had, she worked hard for, even if it meant taking risks. She knew that pursuing her dreams, including finding an ideal boyfriend who was an engineer, came with challenges. Even if it meant repeatedly switching from one engineer to another, she wouldn't stop until she found the right one—the one meant for her.

Though it was a risk, and it wasn't good for her heart, she would face it head-on. On tough days, she would console herself with a plate of Mega Sardines, knowing it’s good for the heart, serving as a balm for the many heartaches she endured from relationships with her past engineer boyfriends.

Despite failing again and again, she didn’t let it break her. She remained hopeful, convinced that with just a little more effort, she would eventually find the perfect engineer boyfriend.

"Hmph! Fine, I’ve warned you. But listen to this—if your boyfriends make you cry again, don’t come crying to me," she threatened, her voice sharp. The audacity! She, who had no shame, dared to intimidate her. She couldn’t even remember the last time she cried in front of her, just because she was hurt by one of her relationships.

The truth is, it was she Melisa who needed the advice when it came to love. She was constantly being fooled by her playboy boyfriend, over and over again. She had exhausted all her comforting words, trying to lift her friend’s spirits, but it seemed like they never really made an impact. The moment her boyfriend gave her a little attention, everything was fine again, back to normal. It was a never-ending cycle of heartache and deceit. Such a hopeless romantic..

Never in her entire life had she ever cried because of a man. Sure, she would admit that she had been hurt before, but it was never to the point where she shed a single tear.

She was not the type to be vulnerable. She was strong, fierce, intelligent, and kind to those who deserved it. Beautiful? Oh, let’s be honest—she knew she was stunning, and she wasn’t shy to show it.

"Honestly, Mel," she laughed, her voice filled with a mix of teasing and pride, "with all the boyfriends I've had, when was the last time I cried? Maybe when you die, for sure, I’ll cry. But until then, focus more on your love life than mine." She let out a playful laugh, as if nothing could truly shake her.

But then, in an instant, her playful grin faded. The back of her hand collided with her head. The force of the slap knocked her off balance, and she stumbled, her mind suddenly dizzy from the impact. Her slap was like a thunderclap—shocking and painful.

"Are you crazy?" she snapped, her voice seething with anger. "We all have different situations, so don’t you dare compare yours to mine! I admit, I’m vulnerable sometimes, but the subject here is your love life. And trust me, Gypsy, one day—maybe soon—you'll find out what it's like to have your heart broken. You’ll cry then, too."

Her words stung—sharp, cutting, and taunting. The way she said it, with that mocking tone, left a bitter taste in her mouth. For a moment, she didn’t know whether to be angry or to admit that a part of her feared what she said might be true.

But she wouldn't let it show. Not now. She wasn’t going to let her see that even for a second, her words had gotten under her skin. No, she was stronger than that. Or at least, she liked to believe she was.

"Of course, I know you'll cry the moment I’m gone. You’ll lose a good friend, a partner-in-crime. That means, your life will be so boring without me," she added, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.

"As if you're the only friend I have," Gypsy snapped back, eyes narrowing. "Just a reminder, you’re not irreplaceable," she said bluntly, her words cutting through the air. It was a harsh facade, but deep down, it was just another dramatic echo of her feelings—one that couldn’t hide the truth.

"Ouch! That hurt," Mel exaggerated, clutching her chest as though she’d been struck, trying to act like it stung more than it actually did. The drama was thick, the theatrics so convincing it almost felt real.

Annoyed yet amused, I stepped closer to her. Part of me wanted to smack her on the back of the head, but I knew better. The radar was on high alert—she was too quick to catch. With a grin, she bolted away, and without missing a beat, I was hot on her heels.

"Mel, get back here! I’m ready to give you that smack you deserve!" I yelled, laughing.

"Yeah, right, like you’ll ever catch me!" she yelled back with a playful taunt, sticking her tongue out at me.

Despite the teasing, I couldn’t help but chase after her. There was something almost childishly freeing about it, something that reminded me of our carefree college days—two young souls, caught up in their own little world, playing the role of mischievous kids even as we grew older.

The chase wasn’t just about winning. It was about holding onto these moments, these small, silly things that made life feel so alive. If I caught her, she’d owe me big time. But if not—well, the laughter was more than enough.

She has no one else she can call her best friend. Melissa is truly alone in that sense.

Since childhood, it has always been just her and Jed, Melisa’s  older brother. Then Melisa came along and they've grown up together. Their bond, their memories—there's a lifetime of moments that tie them together.

Their families have been friends for as long as she can remember, and that's how their connection blossomed. But it wasn’t just that; it was the way they naturally clicked, the way they understood each other without words. They shared so many of the same traits, the same quirks. It made them inseparable. It was almost like their souls were destined to be intertwined, and so, they became each other’s confidant, holding their secrets close, even the smallest ones. Family troubles, fears, and dreams—they bared it all to one another, like no one else could ever understand.

They were classmates from elementary school all the way through college, walking parallel paths as they both worked toward the same dream—to become doctors someday. Their ambition, their drive, it was something that kept them pushing forward, side by side.

But aside from her studies, Melissa had another passion—modeling. With her stunning looks and a figure that caught the eye of many, she started doing photo shoots for magazines. It was her dream to be a model, and her natural beauty made her the perfect fit. Her parents, though protective, supported her as long as she didn’t let it interfere with her education. They understood her desire to shine, but they also knew the importance of her future.

Even though Gypsy  was also offered several modeling opportunities just like Melisa that could have skyrocketed her career, she turned them down. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the idea, but her heart wasn’t in it. She wasn’t looking for fame or the attention it brought. No, her heart was set on something else—on someone else. She was searching for her "man of destiny," the one who would complete her. The engineer. She believed that fate would lead her to him eventually, and when it did, everything would fall into place. Until then, she would chase her dreams, but in her heart, she knew her true purpose lay in something—or someone—else.

As soon as she parked her car, her eyes landed on Mike Salazar, her most recent boyfriend, a young engineering student, waiting by the side of the gate. He greeted her with a tight embrace, which she reciprocated without hesitation.

Mike, if she wasn't mistaken, was her 20th engineering student boyfriend. The list of exes had grown far too long for comfort.

But she didn’t care. Nothing was missing in her life. After all, she had never given away her V-card to anyone.

"Where have you been?" she asked, her voice light, though her mind was somewhere else.

He smiled at her, that familiar, gentle smile that always put her at ease. "Just arrived," he replied, wrapping his arms around her waist as if nothing else mattered in the world.

It wasn’t surprising anymore. He always did this—holding her close, even in public places, in front of strangers and acquaintances. Mike was the type to make sure the world knew that a Gypsy Cameron was his. He didn't care who saw it.

If only the stares could kill. She’d probably be mourning her own death by now, at the hands of the people who still believed she should be something else. Something more.

The looks from random strangers and schoolmates seem to carry a shared meaning based on the way they stare at her, as if saying:

"Hmm, there’s something new."

"She's flirtatious."

"Public display of affection (PDA)."

She no longer cares. She’s lost in herself now, indulging in the comfort of her own company, wrapping herself tightly in the arms of her new boyfriend. Her body presses closer to his with each passing moment, as if seeking refuge, as if the world no longer matters. But the stares—they never leave her. They’re unspoken judgments, harsh and piercing, that pierce through her soul with every glance. They judge Gypsy Cameron, not with words, but with the cruelty of their eyes.

Mike was only there to drop her off at her class, something so familiar now, especially in the medical department where her course is. It was nothing new to her classmates. They had seen this before—the constant cycle of boyfriends, of being chauffeured around by different men. It had become routine, a reflection of her ever-changing relationships. No one in that room was shocked when they saw Mike. They didn't bat an eye. They had already made their conclusions.

After her painful breakup with Kevin, they whispered to themselves, they already knew—she had moved on, like she always does. She'd found a replacement for the man she had once called her "boy."

Marie, her former classmate and Kevin’s sister, couldn’t resist the chance to strike. “That was fast, huh?” she said with a sneer, rolling her eyes, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Gypsy felt the words burn through her. Her chest tightened, but she stood her ground. “As if I can’t get over your damn brother,” she shot back, the bitterness and hurt of everything she had endured rising to the surface. How dare she? The audacity to mock her like that, as if she hadn’t been through enough already. How could she be so blind to what was really happening? What right did she have to judge?

She could feel the weight of the moment, the stares of others pressing down on her. The judgmental looks, the whispers, they were all so familiar, yet they still hurt so deeply. She was done pretending that it didn't bother her. She was done being the subject of their gossip. But as the anger bubbled up inside her, she couldn’t help but wonder if they truly saw her for who she was, or if they only saw what they wanted to see—a girl constantly moving on, constantly needing someone to fill the void.

But in this moment, as she faced Marie, as she stood tall and unbroken, Gypsy realized something. She didn’t need to explain herself to anyone. She didn’t need anyone’s approval. She had chosen to live her life for herself, not for their judgment. And no matter what they said or thought, she would keep moving forward.

This is so ironic—it seems like Marie’s more affected by the breakup between her  and her brother. But, well, she can’t blame her. She’s completely on her brother’s side. Who wouldn’t be? Her brother practically begged, even knelt before her, just to ask her not to break up with him. But I am not  that naive, not foolish enough to stay in a relationship where betrayal is staring right in my face.

She can’t even begin to understand what’s going on in Marie’s head. Instead of Kevin begging for her to stay, it was Marie who was the one pleading, making the desperate move.

“Tsk. Good luck with your new love life. I hope it lasts,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, each word laced with bitterness.

She knew exactly what Marie meant. The tone said it all. In Marie’s mind, she didn’t believe for a second that she and Mike would last. In fact, she was sure their relationship would end in the same way the others had.

Because with Gypsy, relationships were like a fleeting moment—never lasting, always crumbling, fading away as quickly as they began.

"I’m really looking forward to it," she said, her voice soft but firm as she walked into the room.

It seemed almost pointless to engage in any further argument. She knew deep down that she was right. Maybe, just maybe, one of these days, she would finally find the courage to break things off with Mike.

With that thought in mind, she quickly said her goodbyes to him.

"Bye, Mike. I’m going in now," she told him, her tone gentle yet resolute as she guided herself toward the door where their class awaited.

"Okay, after class, call me right away so I can pick you up," he said, his voice filled with care. She simply nodded, her silence speaking volumes more than words ever could.

The minutes flew by in a blur. The class was over before she knew it. True to his word, Mike was waiting for her as soon as the bell rang, ready to take her home.

She didn’t bother asking their driver to take her. After all, it was already a given that Mike would be the one to drop her off.

The car came to a halt right in front of their mansion. Without hesitation, Mike stepped out and quickly moved around the car, opening the door for her.

His actions, so instinctively gentlemanly, made her heart flutter with a mix of confusion and longing.

He extended his hand to her, and with a smile, she took it, feeling the warmth and sincerity in his gesture.

So gentleman-like.

As they reached the gates, the guard swiftly opened them, and she couldn’t help but pause for a moment, her mind racing with thoughts she wasn’t sure she was ready to face.

"So, you’re welcome to join inside if you want," she offered, her voice calm, almost indifferent.

Mike only smiled faintly.

"I’m good, thanks," he replied, his tone a mix of resignation and reluctance. "I’m in a hurry. Maybe next time."

"Alright then, take care,"

the man said then shrug, climbing into his car. She gave Mike a casual wave, then Mike quickly revved the engine and sped off, disappearing down the street.

Gypsy stood there for a moment, watching the car drive away, a knot forming in her stomach. She tried to shake off the feeling, but it lingered. With a sigh, she turned and walked into the house.

The door clicked shut behind her, and she was immediately greeted by the soft voices of the house staff, their presence almost a comfort in the empty, quiet house.

"Manang, are Mommy and Daddy home yet?" Gypsy asked, her voice low, as if she was afraid of the answer.

"Not yet, ma’am," the maid replied with a respectful bow.

Gypsy nodded absentmindedly, her mind elsewhere. "Okay, well, don’t bother me for dinner tonight," she said, her voice a little more distant. "I’m not hungry. I’m exhausted and I need some sleep... Just call me if they arrive."

"Yes, Ma'am," the maid replied softly, sensing the weight of her words. She bowed again, her eyes filled with sympathy as she turned to go back to her duties.

Gypsy walked up the stairs with heavy steps, her mind racing. She didn’t know what was wrong, but everything felt off. She needed to be alone, to quiet the chaos in her head. Tonight, the emptiness of the house felt more suffocating than ever.

She stormed straight to her room, slamming the door shut behind her. Her heart raced, emotions swirling within her like a storm. She stripped off her clothes and quickly changed into her sleepwear, the soft fabric barely registering against her skin as she numbly moved through the motions.

She grabbed her laptop, flicking it open as her fingers automatically navigated to her social media accounts, searching for any updates that could distract her from the turmoil inside.

Mike was online, but she had no intention of chatting with him. In fact, over the past few days, she had begun to realize just how dull he had become. She had tried to ignore it at first, convincing herself it was just a phase, but deep down, she knew the truth—Mike was no longer the person she wanted to be with. It wasn’t that he was bad, but he wasn’t the one. Not anymore. The spark had long since faded, and with every moment she spent with him, the more suffocating it became.

She found herself looking for reasons to be angry at him, searching for flaws or things he did that she could use as an excuse to finally end things. It wasn’t that she was cruel, it was just that she couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine when her heart was no longer in it. Mike wasn’t the man she had envisioned beside her, and if she wasn’t happy, why should she drag it out any longer?

Enough was enough.

It was time to find a replacement. She knew it wouldn’t be difficult. There were plenty of guys lining up, all eager to win her attention, to be the one to take Mike’s place. All she had to do was choose.

She clicked on her F******k account, the familiar notifications greeting her. She rarely opened it, not wanting to deal with the endless stream of messages from guys who were either too forward or too eager, most of whom she didn’t even know. Basketball players, dancers, and popular students from her school all messaging her, trying to catch her eye.

The overwhelming attention from her admirers was something she had grown accustomed to. She didn’t know how to entertain all of them anymore—there were simply too many. So, she let it all slide, letting the flood of messages go unanswered. She was used to it. After all, when you’re beautiful, smart, and hot, it was only natural that the boys would come rushing in.

One by one, she started scrolling through the messages in her chatbox. Tsk, such cheap tactics—none of them would pass her standards. Not a single one was worthy of her attention. Sure, the guys were good-looking and seemed to have something going for them, but none of them sparked anything in her. She didn’t feel like pursuing any of them.

Next, she opened her I*******m. A small smile tugged at her lips as she saw the number of followers growing, but it wasn’t enough to distract her from the emptiness she felt. She wasn’t really active on I*******m—she preferred T*****r, where she felt more herself, more real. But even there, things weren’t much different.

Her F******k account was flooded with messages too. It took her longer than usual to scroll through them, and she immediately regretted wasting her time reading these worthless texts. Every single message was the same—nonsense. They all said the same things: "Can I court you?" "You're so beautiful," "I idolize you," "Hi, tsk." It was all so predictable, so dull. Nothing stood out. Nothing was different.

She felt frustrated. She wanted to end things with Mike, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. The truth was, she couldn’t find anyone to replace him. She had been naïve, thinking that finding someone new would be easy—after all, there were so many options. But now, she realized it was pointless. What’s the use of having a hundred people lined up if none of them are what she’s really looking for? If none of them are her Mr. Right?