Chapter Five

Sebastian and I finally arrived in front of the Malacañang Palace, I looked at my watch, and it says 4:45 in the afternoon – fifteen minutes before the event starts. I quickly jumped off the motorbike and took the helmet off from my head. Sebastian followed and slowly removed his headgear; his black medium-length hair almost touched his eyes. His hairstyle is nearly similar to Leonardo Dicaprio's, a combination of man bun and slicked-back hair, but his hair is much thicker than Leonardo's.

He ran a hand through his hair, and his slightly slanted eyes looked at me. Sometimes, I envy him for having those eyes. They look so mysterious and mischievous at the same time; these types of eyes are impossible to understand.

He handed his hands to me, gesturing me to give him his helmet back; I nodded and gave it to him. A chauffeur walked in our direction wearing a black suit, white shirt, black tie with driving gloves, and a hat.

The keys jingled as Sebastian slowly gave the keys to the chauffeur.

"Thank you," Sebastian said. The chauffeur bowed his head in response; he never said a single word and immediately took off from our direction.

Not from afar, I can hear classical music played by an orchestra; it is a sound of relief and comfort. I can see the Philippines' biggest broadcasting networks and media gathered around in front of the Malacañang Palace, trying their best to cover the entire State of the Nations Address.

Everyone turned their heads around when they saw Sebastian and I heading to the entrance halls. They slowly turned their cameras to us and took some pictures; some are recording. I hate attention but I am getting used to it.

The head security officer and his team slowly walked beside us, escorting us to the entrance halls. Sebastian walked on the right side and I am on the left with the head officer; we walked in unison.

"President Blanco and some cabinet members are on the event hall; SONA will start in few minutes." The head security officer said. Sebastian and I smiled and nodded as a response. The sound of the orchestra gets louder as we walked towards the entrance hall.

"The son and the nephew. Look how good-looking they are." A female reporter whispered. I pretended not to hear a single word. I am not a snob at all; I don't know how to react with compliments, that's it!

"It's just so strange, but I see some similarities between the two of them. They look like brothers, don't they?" The person next to her responded. I almost lose my balance when someone elsewhere said that. I cleared my throat.

It does not make me scared if people find out that Sebastian is my half-brother; I don't give a fuck. The only thing I am worried about is Sebastian's forthcoming – he's been working so hard to meet the expectations of everybody.

"Laurent," Sebastian whispered in my left ear. "You know the drill." He added and looked at me. I did not respond.

Yeah, I know, Sebastian.

Less talk, less mistake.

We often hear people say that the more you talk, the more blunders you commit. Since I am still part of their family, some people would question me about things that can ruin my family's reputation – so I have to be extra careful with the words I spit out from my mouth.

The Blancos' have nothing to worry about since I barely speak their language.

Sebastian and I arrived in the entrance hall; the security team stopped following us. Sebastian bowed at them and mouthed the word thank you. One noticeable thing in the Malacañang's entrance hall is the doors leading to the Grand Staircase. A pair of lions used to stand guard on each side of the doors to the Grand Staircase, but Martina requested to remove it because of a shallow reason that she only likes Tigers. Stupid, right?

A man in Barong opened the doors for us, passing the doors of the entrance hall is the Grand Staircase which was made of the Philippines' finest wood and carpeted in red. Sebastian and I walked to the wide staircase leading to the reception hall; all eyes are still on us. A middle-aged woman approached us wearing a very modest Filipiniana dress. She stopped in front of us; the corners of her mouth slid upwards, and her eyes sparkled.

Sebastian and I stopped walking and looked straight at her.

"Mister Blanco and Mister Leyva, the SONA has started. The first lady requested for your presence in the reception hall." She greeted us with a beaming smile.

"Gracias!" I unintentionally answered in Spanish. "I'm sorry. I mean, thank you." I immediately corrected myself. The woman and I chuckled while Sebastian is showing his signature poker face.

"We have special guests waiting for you at the reception hall. Please follow me." She said, extending her hands to the reception hall. Sebastian raised his eyebrows in wonder. We looked at each other in unison, trying to figure out if we were expecting anyone.

"Wait, guests?" Sebastian questioned, emphasizing the plural form of the word. The woman nodded and beamed.

The woman started walking, swaying her arms and hips dramatically, heading to the reception hall. I followed her while Sebastian was still rooted in his place. A look of confusion and curiosity crossed his face. I looked back at him, and he started walking.

The reception hall is a 5-minute walk from the entrance hall at a normal pace, but the woman swooped so we arrived approximately two minutes. She stopped and swivelled.

"Enjoy, misters." She bowed her head and grinned from ear to ear. Sebastian slightly nodded his head as a response; the confusion on his face is still visible. The woman left like she was trained to do the job.

We set our foot together in the reception hall. The hall was massive. The bright light of the three large Czech chandeliers still amazes me, which were the noticeable feature in the hall. Official portraits of all Philippine Presidents are attached on the wall, from Emilio Aguinaldo to my father, Philippe Gabrielle Blanco. Large mirrors, gilt sofas and armchairs, and Chinese bronze pedestals holding plant and flower arrangements made the place look sophisticated.

The majority of the people here are either politicians or celebrities, people that I am still not familiar with. Men are wearing Barong Tagalogs, and women are wearing their versions of Filipiniana.

As we walked past them, everyone turned their heads – obviously not because of me but because of Sebastian's ethereal visuals. I promise to God, walking with him is frustrating.

Within a sniffing distance, I can see Martina laughing with some unfamiliar people gathered around in the center of the hall. Her presence made it look like she owned the entire room. I despise her for making me uncomfortable.

I just realized how I hate being near her so I stopped walking. Sebastian looked at me and wrinkled his forehead in confusion.

"I need to go to the restroom," I lied, hands inside my pocket.

"Okay, you know where to find me." He answered and walked away. I took few steps backward.

Martina noticed her son walking towards her. She opened her arms and hugged him. Sebastian kissed her mother on the cheeks and greeted every person in the circle with a beaming smile. I hid in the corner of the hall, roaming my eyes around the place and appreciating its beautiful interior. The Czech chandelier hangs in the center of the hall was the exact right spot where Martina is.

I never wished for a chandelier to fall so bad.

"Leyva from Brent International School, right?" A husky and unfamiliar male voice astounded me. I turned around and saw a guy smiling, dimples coming into form.

"Hi, my name is August Tiangco. A fellow archer." He stated, trying to straighten his posture and reaching his right hand at me. His eyes beamed in gladness.