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“Omo!” Kate exclaimed. “It’s true!” Nathan said, bursting with excitement. “Last month, I got accepted by Big Break Entertainment as a trainee and I’ve since been practicing dancing and singing. My personal therapist said all the dancing – this is what’s really baffling her – was fueling my drive and speeding up my overall recovery. Very energetic choreography still makes her nervous tho.” Nathan chuckled. “Probably because of my age, I was able to tolerate a higher intensity of therapy. I feel pain and exhaustion with my nerves, not my muscles. But I just dance through the pain. I keep reminding myself that – because I’m a Filipino and not a Korean, because I’m disabled, because I’m the secret younger brother of an idol etc – I need to work twice as hard. I give dancing my 200%. Like swimming to the deep end and not caring about how far I get from the shore. When I do that, I get in the zone and fall into a trance-like state, where there’s no pain, no loneliness, no limit to the h
On the second and last day of campaigning, Kate’s feeling hopeless than ever because nothing is going according to plan. She did her very best at the assembly yesterday but her speech fell flat. It was like Lor had warned her about. She used too many “highfalutin” words that were more suited for a novel than a speech. Maricar, meanwhile, killed it. The CC sisters have always been good at leading the class or a group in prayer or discussion; a skill that Kate equates to extemporaneous speaking and could easily win someone a spot at the Speech regionals. Kate prefers to do her own prayers in the privacy of her “closet” (King James version) and this preference in turn leads to her partiality for a single canned go-to prayer that got hammered into her brain during her elementary school days. Kate didn’t follow Lor’s suggestion that she pose as an e-girl in the digital campaign posters and TikTok vid. The only fashion cue she took from Lor was the wearing of a pair of large tortoise shell
“That was beautiful. What do you call it?” “You Are My Extra Life.” “Extra life. That’s gaming terminology, isn’t it?” “That’s right.” The newly debuted boy band are guesting on a Korean talk show. They’re all wearing suits and are crammed on one couch while the host, a middle-aged Korean man who is fluent in English and has a British accent, is sitting on a chair perpendicular to them. The idols proceed to introduce themselves one by one: “Annyeonghaseyo! I’m Cyber. I’m the leader of DMG and I’m also the main vocals and songwriter. I like motorcycle racing and computer games, especially COD and Dungeon Raydens.” “Konnichiwa! My name’s Rintaro. My nickname is Sonic because I’m a wicked fast dancer and my hair’s spiky. In my free time, I like doing kendo, archery, drums and cooking. I make a mean carbonara.” “Hi! I’m Reggie. I’m the maknae and, no doubt, the cutest member of DMG. Even though I’m the youngest, my hyungs should stop asking me to cook kimchi-bokkuem because I can
“I hope,” the host concludes, “this will serve as an example to other idols out there. Your fans don’t own you. Your label doesn’t own you. You can walk away from it all. You’re free. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise.” Nathan and the rest of DMG beam at him. “One thing I can say about you, Nathan, is you’re pretty clever for having thought of all this. You’re so young yet so smart. Let’s give it up, everybody, for Nathan. The brains of DMG!” Renewed applause rings in the studio. When the audience settles down, the host says amiably: “I think, Nathan, you’re also sticking true to the bad boy image that you had going on in the MV and the posters. Is that how you see yourself? As a rule breaker?” “I guess so,” Nathan replies. “But let me continue speaking from the heart here. I don’t like to be placed in a binary box. Say, being either a bad boy or a soft boy. These are all just arbitrary standards set by an image consultant or an obsessive fan base. I’m an artist and a teenager.
The day after elections, Saturday, Kate and the GEEKZ undergo a free (and voluntary) Leadership Training. There are students from other grades and sections as well, but mostly from senior high. The defeated Maricar and the Angels also attend. In the training, each group is given a pen-and-paper group survival game by Mr. Romero a.k.a. “Squidward”, Personal Development instructor-turned-gamemaster. It’s a Lost at Sea scenario: you are shipwrecked and stranded in a lifeboat in the middle of the South China Sea. You’ve managed to salvage 15 items from the sinking ship. Please rank the items based on their importance to your survival. Mr. Romero hands out individual ranking charts. In the first column is the list of items: a sextant, a shaving mirror, some mosquito netting, a 25-liter container of water, a case of Army rations, maps of the South China Sea, a floating seat cushion, a 10-liter can of oil/ petrol mixture, a small transistor radio, 20 square feet of opaque plastic sheeting,
Kate and the other senior high students are so lucky to have Dion. In his last year of high school, he took after-school tutorials at a test review center (only God knows how he found the time). Grace also went to one over the summer and maybe Maricar and a couple other CC sisters. Kate and most of the Bali Girls are only relying on self-study and Dion’s free tips. Dion also, quite incredibly, had the foresight to answer his review center materials in pencil. Today, he has erased all his answers, photocopied the materials with his own money, and distributed them to Kate and the others. They don’t take a mock test because the real test next weekend would be five hours long. Dion just points out what he thinks are the most crucial questions everybody should watch out for, especially misleading or bluffing math questions like the length of altitude y in a parallelogram with a top angle measurement of 33 degrees. By simply focusing on the right triangle inside the figure and using the Py
It’s Homeroom PTA meeting on Monday and Mr. Lapuz goes to CITS to hear the latest about her future-valedictorian daughter from sleek-haired Mrs. Lim. Between husband and wife, Mr. Lapuz is usually the one more deeply invested in Kate’s academic standing. Kate thinks it’s because her Pa was a high school dropout while her Ma at least graduated from high school (when high school was still just a four-year affair). Kate doesn’t think it’s simply because it’s easier for her Pa to get leaves at the auto repair shop than her Ma at the diner. And so, Mr. Lapuz splashes some Nenuco Agua de Colonia baby cologne on his pulse points because he was a ’90s kid, puts gel on his hair and molds it into a fauxhawk, dabs some of Mrs. Lapuz’s Vaseline on his mustache and combs it deep, puts on a gold chain and, finally, dons a Hawaiian shirt whose top three buttons he leaves undone and the tail he tucks into his tight jeans. He caps, or rather underscores, everything with a pair of boots. Looking like
Francine has already gotten in touch with the photographer she met at the hotel lobby in July. First, she checked the website URL indicated on the business card to make sure he was legit. Her eyes brightened in the blue-light glow of all the beautiful shots in color and black and white; all the portraits and concept images. Some even made it on the cover of glossies. The title of the website was "Julius Tenorio" and below that "Fashion Photography". The page tabs were Models, About, and Contact and, when Francine clicked the Testimonials page, all she could find were glowing reviews from professional models. So, Francine composed an email with an attachment of her portfolio and headshots, including the latest ones she had for the Student Council campaign poster (she ran and won as Secretary) and even the 15-second TikTok clip where, one by one, the GEEKZ were prancing while conjuring letters from their palms or index fingers. The letters spelled out U DON’T NEED 2 SPEAK, WE UNDERSTAN
For Ecto, New Year’s is more or less the same as Christmas. The same warm, gooey feeling. The same close-knit spirit. Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte has banned the manufacture and sale of firecrackers, the shooting of which has been a well-loved tradition for centuries and can be traced all the way back to the Spanish colonial era. The exact inventors and originators were the Chinese, who believed that noise would drive away bad luck and bad spirits. According to Mr. and Mrs. Lapuz, the Filipinos seem sadder now, having been robbed of the most thrilling and spectacular means of making noise. But according to health and safety records, hospital personnel can rest easier because the ERs wouldn’t be packed with casualties this time around. Just the New Year’s before last, it was like a war zone on the streets what of households competing for the biggest bang to welcome the new year. Many men got drunk out of their minds and then tried to light a firecracker with the non-PC name
After Mass, Kate and Nate buy rice cakes at the town square. One is the awesomely purple puto bumbong and another the yellow bibingka. They also buy roasted chestnuts and bring all the treats home to Mr. and Mrs. Lapuz. On one trip to a very crowded shopping mall, Ecto sees a Santa Claus impersonator. Curiously, the Santa is Caucasian and not brown-skinned like most of the Filipinos. Of course Ecto has already figured out by himself that Santa isn’t real. To his surprise, after they get back home, Kate insists on teaching him the hooman custom of hanging a stocking. On the desktop of her computer, Kate shows him a folder that she has named “Ecto’s Stocking”. She then goes through all the trouble of changing her wallpaper to a fireplace and dragging the folder onto the 2D mantelpiece. “What for?” he asks her through her smartphone’s loudspeaker. Her smartphone is open and showing the My Dream Boyfriend app, right into the inside of Ecto’s bedroom. Ecto’s wearing a knit sweater
With a little help from Terra, Kate downloads the My Dream Boyfriend App again with some customizations. Because Ecto isn’t bound by any one platform anymore, he’s capable of some manner of fission, where he splits and replicates himself while also dividing his consciousness among all his manifestations. It’s like Doctor Strange’s clones when they were fighting Thanos, but in Ecto’s case, each and every duplicate is much more than an illusion and is a sentient and perfect version of himself. This allows him to be both in Nate’s microchip implant while back in his virtual bedroom inside the My Dream Boyfriend app on Kate’s smartphone. At any time, he can also perform fusion and re-absorb his manifestations. Terra removed the boyfriend creation window because of course Kate doesn’t need it anymore. Ecto wanted his virtual bedroom exactly as it was. He could easily “slide” into his other cribs anyway, like the old orange, pink and red Provençal one on Dungeon Raydens which he was able
It’s already 6 pm when Nate finishes his social host obligations and comes looking for Kate. He doesn’t need to look hard though because earlier, Kate sent him a text saying she’s waiting for him in the Council office. Nate has a spring in his step and is smiling ear to ear. The scratches on his face are still stinging but, before the closing ceremony, Nurse Judy cleaned and applied Band-Aid on them. Nate can’t hide his excitement in seeing his GF again after they’ve taken care of all their responsibilities. {That kiss on the track was supernova-hot. I hope we make out too.} When he finds the office door locked, oddly enough, he knocks and calls out uncertainly: “Kate?” He hears her move inside the room and then the door swings open. The sight of her face wipes his smile off. She’s been crying in the dim. She has the look of someone who has just had herself a good cry. Her eyes look cleansed and exposed, indeed like pure windows into her soul. Her lips are tightly set in a line, as
Kate is alone in the Student Council office tidying up. Nate’s off wrapping things up with his manager and the film crew and saying goodbye to everybody, including his bandmates. The trophy that STEM 12 won is now in the 12-Everest homeroom, because the bulk of tournament champions is there. Kate’s classmates are all posing with it and gushing at how shiny it is. This year’s Intrams was perfect. Kate couldn’t ask for anything more. She has once again been reminded of the importance of having balance in life; of, as cheesy as it sounds, having both a sound mind and a sound body. It felt good to do something physical, to be away from the rigors of school work and the false urgency of the Internet. But the heart of the matter is, she’s blissfully content because she has a boyfriend and she didn’t make a mistake in choosing him. In fact, she made a brilliant choice. An undertow to her joy is a silent prayer that she has finally broken the curse that she felt had hung over her ever since
“OMG!” Mr. Romero says the word in everyone’s mind as they watch the pitiful scene. “Policarpio’s crawling to the baton exchange. Quick! Somebody help him! Help him!” Reggie is the first to break the spell of paralysis. He leaps over the rail and onto the track. He and Jared manage to run towards him before the alert CAT volunteers practice crowd control and stop others from joining. Reggie reaches Nate’s side. “No!” Nate screams vehemently. “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me! I have to do this by myself.” “But hyung,” Jared says, having stopped next to Reggie, “you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to prove anything.” “Yes… I… do,” Nate grunts as he crawls forward foot by precious foot. “Let us help you,” Reggie pleads. “You don’t have to do this alone.” “Don’t come closer!” Nate barks, spittle flying between his gritted teeth. In what feels like eternity, he reaches the changeover zone and Kate’s crouched form. Her eyes are glassy and full of pity for him. He hates that loo
By Friday morning, STEM 12 has won a total of 7 champion ribbons and several ones as runner-up. This makes them a leading candidate for overall champion. As Kate has anticipated, the non-sports events buoyed them. Apart from Francine and her escort winning Mr. and Mrs. Intrams, Grace and her benchwarmers won the bench cheer. It didn’t hurt either that the Bali Girls minus setter Lor were at the top of their game. And Nate, to everyone’s astonishment, is actually a Filipino Usain Bolt in the making. {Your BF’s Superman,} Nate’s words have been echoing inside Kate’s head since Wednesday, along with the news reporter’s: {Idol, social catalyst and Internet detective. Is there anything that Cyber can’t do?} But STEM 12 didn’t exactly win all their wins. Just like in last year’s Intrams, several games have been forfeited. An opposing team either failed to meet the minimum number of players required to start the game or failed to appear at the venue within the 15-minute grace period. On CIT
The crowd of hysterical girls in front, held back only by a cordon of CAT cadets from junior high, are screaming the names of DMG members: “Cyber! Reggie! Jared! Sonic! Neo!” Seemingly from out of nowhere, they’ve whipped out banners and signs. Instead of the usual glow-in-the-dark Korean lettering for an evening K-pop concert, there’s a slew of English ones interspersed with the name of a particular artist or of the whole band. | IT’S MY BIRTHDAY CYBER, YOU ARE MY PRESENT DUMP KATE TAKE ME I WOULD SELL MY SIBLINGS FOR YOU I LOVE YOU MORE THAN FREE WIFI DON’T STOP INSPIRING ME! CAN I BE YOUR HAIRDRESSER? ALL I WANT FOR X-MAS IS A PIC WITH JARED DMG We have 5 fingers enough for 5 wedding rings SPIT ON ME CYBER | An English-speaking Filipino director is riding a crane and shooting high up in the aisle of the audience seats. His staff is scattered on the edges and near the stage, operating or holding up every manner of equipment. DMG plays their covers of the most popular s
On Tuesday, they have the same brain-hurting and nose-bleeding calculations in Physics and Chemistry. The only thing different is DMG’s closed-door rehearsal at the chapel-slash-auditorium 500 meters east. Nate has been exempted by Principal Aguilar personally from any school work or quiz. The whole campus is abuzz and on edge at every sighting of truck and van with tinted windows down Campus Drive and onwards to the auditorium. Kate has also prepared paper lots in an empty pencil case for the Secret Santa next month. She lets every Everester pick their recipient, including her own name. Kate has set the budget at “No Fixed Price” because she knows not all students are financially comfortable. When only two pieces of folded paper remain (one for Nate and one for her), she picks her recipient and is both excited and nervous to see that it’s Grace. She keeps the last piece of paper, of course unopened, for Nate. {Huh,} she thinks to herself afterwards. {What gift can I give somebod