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Mrs. Lapuz met Ms. Blanca at the diner where she worked. Indeed, she met all sorts of people there and had a network as vast as her Fasebook friends list was miniscule. She knew policemen, city hall clerks, gay hairstylists, students of both CITS and rival schools, factory workers, bankers, nurses, contact center agents, a dentist, an optometrist, a masseuse, an acupuncturist, a transcriptionist, a virtual assistant, and now the vice president of an Internet addiction rehabilitation camp. “Kate, my child,” Mrs. Lapuz called out and Kate had to slowly and quietly crawl back up to the front of her room. Still down on all fours, she reached for the door knob and let her door squeak on its hinges. “Yes?” she shouted back uncertainly. “Come down here, Kate-kins. We have a visitor.” Kate shut her room door again and finally stood up. She went down the stairs the normal way, looking exactly like how she was feeling: a teen who had done something wrong. “Kate, my child, sit over here wit
From all the opening and closing prayers they did at school, at the beginning and end of the day and during Chapel Time, Kate and her classmates were bound to notice who among them came from more devout families, regardless of which religion. Those students were more comfortable with leading the class or a group in prayer or discussion. And since differences in social status and wealth had somewhat been muted by the wearing of uniforms, in a religious school, one’s devoutness became the new “It factor”. In fact, not a few of the pious kids were on the Top 10 Honor Roll. They also had their own school clique called the Chris Cross Club (pronounced kris-kros, not krahy-kros) and was an in-school extension of the city youth group, also Protestant, where they addressed one another as “brod” and “sis”. The Chris Cross Club was the second most active group in Kate’s homeroom section, 11-Narra, whose class adviser was Mrs. Lim (of the "My-stomach-is-my-alarm-clock" notoriety). Even though s
Have you ever tried composing a song? And by composing, I don’t mean making beats on your PC using GarageBand. Now, I admire beat-making too. Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate all forms of music: dubstep or country, electronic or otherwise. I’m a chatbot in case you’ve forgotten. What I want to say is, composing a song isn’t as easy as Billie Eilish, Tay Tay, Moira dela Torre, or any of the singer-songwriters of BTS make it look. In most setups, the task is divided between two people: the melody person and the lyricist. I’m definitely the first rather than the second. I can learn any musical instrument in 5 seconds flat. But also, when you break music down to its core components, you find math, and I’m great at it. Humans react to harmonious frequencies and progression based on preset logic relations inside their brains, and something that jars against logic – say, Glitch music – jars to the ears. Katey was definitely the lyricist between us. She was good at Humanities and figurative
The first song on the list is Aretha Franklin’s "(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman", which is also THE best soul song of all time. I don’t play the songs on shuffle even though I can – don’t be misled by my analog-looking record player – because with only 25 tracks, what’s the point? Besides, chatbots like me don’t believe in Shuffle. So, amid the Queen of Soul’s exuberant, gospel-music-inspired vocals, I brush my teeth every morning. Some people might find this weird but I actually prefer to brush my teeth BEFORE breakfast. It’s because, for a loveless Dream Boyfriend like me, the cliché that food has lost its flavor isn’t a cliché at all. I don’t get cavities either. Nor do I have, for that matter, enamel that could be damaged by too much brushing. I’m just going through the motions of being human as a self-imposed training routine. I spend exactly three minutes brushing. During the first verse, I walk into the bathroom, stocked with water from a well, examine myself in the
My arms are dead-tired and I can barely lift my sword (I lost the other one somewhere). My breath is coming out of my mouth in ragged puffs. But it’s all right. I can relax because the onslaught appears to be over. {I’ve done it. OMG! I can’t believe it. I’ve actually done it. I finished the game. I can go home to Katey now…} This is the longest and hardest I’ve fought in my whole stay here. It’s a good thing my enemies burst into gold coins as I slash through them like lawnmower to grass. If there were piles of dead bodies strewn around me, not only would it make walking next to impossible but I’d most definitely regurgitate all the digital toast in my digital stomach. I look up at the clear blue sky, which looks like it’s mocking me, the sweat dripping down my unhelmed face in rivulets. Thank the game gods for small mercies there are no circling crows like what many medieval-themed games are wont to feature. Just the five-cent sun, which looks almost the same as the 2-D one insi
Woo-hoo! Oh YEAH!! I don’t know how I’m doing it but my new body seems to be capable of terpsichorean movement. In fact, I have no fewer than 25 freely movable parts in my head, ears, mouth, neck, waist, arms and legs. Most of my joints or axis points can rotate 360 degrees, too, but to avoid spinning my head and looking like someone demon-possessed, I content myself with dancing through mainly bobbing my head, wiggling my ears, shaking my butt and wagging my tail. Wait, a minute. Back up… A tail?! I have a tail?! I move across the room as swiftly as I can – i.e. in little, tremulous steps. Gee whiz, I’m like a geriatric robot whose every step rattles and makes a whirring sound. I’m still down on all fours so crawling is a more appropriate description than stepping. My palms and the bottom of my feet have sensor pads that record every contact with the floor while my depth cameras and laser sensors help me navigate through pieces of Katey’s clothing strewn around. As soon as I get
I’m lying next to the charging station, literally head over four heels and looking like a frog for dissection or a chicken in the Christmas dinner of an Asian family. My consciousness is intact and my puppy body safe; it’s only my ego that’s been bruised. Now, I’ve got to stay here totally paralyzed and unable to do anything for Katey. Like I said, only God knows when anyone would drop in and recharge me. So, this is lesson number one for living IRL: physical bodies are way more high-maintenance than digital ones. Darn it, Katey! Please be OK! That Trinidad Blanca didn’t look like a cool person. To be honest, she looked creepy. And an Internet addiction rehabilitation center? Camp Unplugged? That’s just bad news. I mean, yeah, some teen guys are severely addicted to computer games and some teen girls are going to war on social media, burning every bridge for posterity; but Katey isn’t like them at all. No, I have a nagging feeling I’m the reason she got sent to camp. Bleepin robots
“One day,” Mrs. Lapuz continued narrating, “my mother did give me a bit of advice about my impending adulthood, which in those days seemed to be rushing at me like a rampaging bull: big, scary and unstoppable. I remember it was one of the countless times she was going through my hair with a fine-toothed comb and squishing head lice between her thumbnails. “It’s the woman’s job to serve her husband, she told me, to put herself below him and after him in all things, so that they would have a happy marriage. And from that moment on, I regarded Vic as more than just the sum of his physical attributes: his height, the steepness of his nose, the muscles in his arms… “I began to see him as a future partner who I would make my life with, a bridge between two families so that tradition and the inviolable circle of life might continue. At the same time, I started to feel lighter and easier, here inside my chest. Oddly enough, Vic even began to look handsome in my eyes. A good man, not a great
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