Chapter Three

"In case, mom and dad are asking where was I. Let them know I am inside the presidential car." 

A plain text message popped up on my phone from Sebastian. I ignored the text message he sent and rolled my eyes in annoyance.

I've known Sebastian since I was sixteen years old and up until now – I am still trying to understand and figure out his personality; however, I always failed maybe because we don't talk that much or the house was too big for the two of us to communicate. I did everything to start the ball rolling between the two of us, but I could feel that he was not just into it. Sebastian was okay with us being half-brother acting like strangers living under one roof.

I divert my attention back to the flowers I received. I saw a note in the bouquet that says "Happy birthday, Laurent." but there was no specific indication of where the bouquet was from. I put the flowers beside me on the couch and scrolled over to my social media feeds. I went to Twitter and saw the Philippines' top trend hashtags #4thStateofTheNationsAddress and Philippe Gabrielle Blanco, which was my father's name and lastly, in the tenth spot was Sebastian's name.

After a couple of minutes, I saw my father slowly walking down the spiral stairs with the senate president, Jonathan Juarez. My father was wearing a Barong Tagalog hand embroidered by one of the famous designers in the Philippines, and he wore a plain white undershirt paired with black slacks. While the senate president, Jonathan Juarez, was wearing an exact the same thing as my father. The only difference you can identify is the embroidery and needlework done on the Barong Tagalog itself.

I quickly stood up and unrolled my sleeves, hands on my pocket. My father smiled at me, I responded with a deceptive smile.

"Laurent, cómo estás?" The senate president stated in Spanish, not gonna lie but he sounded so pretentious.

Both of them smelled like the old casks from a winery.

"Muy bien, señor." I responded while shaking his hands. I have no idea if he understood me.

"Eres guapo, Laurent. You are a fine man." The senate president commented, patting my shoulder. "I can see some similarities between you and your Tito. You have good genes, Mister President." His compliments sounded genuine, but the more he praises you, the more he sounded annoying.

I could see the fear in my father's eyes as Mister Juarez uttered those words. His face went blank. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead and he mopped it away with his clean white handkerchief. I just smirked.

After wiping his forehead, he tried to calm himself.

"I couldn't agree more, Mister Juarez. Look at Sebastian Gabrielle, my son. Where else did he inherit such a good-looking face?" My father jested. Mister Juarez laughed hysterically like he just heard the funniest joke ever. Plastic.

Shifting topics from one to another was my father's forte.

"I'll pretend I did not hear that, my love." A familiar voice of a woman echoed inside the house. Her voice sounded confident and territorial. Without even looking, I know exactly who she is.

The three of us looked at her in unison. The first lady, Martina Gomez-Blanco, slowly walked in our direction like a queen. She looked expensive wearing the Terno dress in pearl-like colour fits seamlessly on her body, the Filipiniana sleeves sit perfectly on her shoulders matched with black velvet 4-inches heels.

One thing I hate about her overall look is her makeup; her foundation is visibly lighter than her skin tone.

She reminds me of one of the characters I know from the famous Filipino novel, El Filibusterismo, who is Doña Victorina. I hate to admit it, but her aura screams fierceness, confidence, and feminine power.

"My love, you look stunning." My father said as he kissed his wife, Martina, on her forehead. She smiled; her teeth are as white as the dress she's wearing.

"Madame, first lady." Mister Juarez greeted Martina. He slowly grabbed her hand and kissed her. "You look like a queen." The senate president added.

"Mister Juarez, I surely am a queen." Martina jested. My father slowly wraps his hands around her waist.

"Of course, my love, you are." The president uttered and kissed her on her cheeks. I hate being in this kind of situation, to be honest. I wanted to walk away.

Martina stared at me blankly. She looked at me – head to toe and then smirked. I gave her the most insincere smile. She looked away and flirtatiously coiled her hand around my father's arms. My father smiled as a response.

Stepmothers are often described as evil and wicked, but Martina is one different breed. She never talks to me. She is very outspoken when it comes to my relationship with my father and Sebastian. Martina already drew the line that I am just an illegitimate son and will always be the unlawful one. Martina was the one who suggested introducing me as the president's nephew, and my imprudent father agreed.

There was one time when we had dinner, she tried to convince my father to send me back to Valencia. My father and Sebastian were stunned by her idea. Since she believed that there are no secrets that time does not reveal. I was deeply hurt at that time because I had no idea what would happen if they sent me back to Valencia. I mean, I have friends there, but I was only sixteen years old.

I don't know how life works at sixteen. Good thing, my father did not consider her suggestion.

"Where is my son, Sebastian?" She said trying so hard to sound European. No one answered.

"He texted me. He's already inside the presidential car." I answered, not looking at her.

She did not respond. Martina secretly rolled her eyes as if I did not expect her to do that. I just smirked in disgust.

"Tiger is too small for the five of us to fit," Martina stated. The Philippines' presidential car is nicknamed Tiger. It is a 2011-model black armoured version of the Ford Fusion Hybrid. Martina was the one who nicknamed the presidential vehicle, Tiger. "I hope Laurent doesn't mind riding the family's car." Martina said, staring at me waiting for me the response.

I smiled.

"I don't mind at all." I quickly responded. It would be an honour not to sit with her.

She raised her left eyebrow and sneered at me. Her red lip colour is somewhat intimidating.

"First lady, with all due respect, Mister Laurent can go with–," Mister Juarez did not finish his statement because Martina cut him off midline.

"Laurent already agreed. To refuse an offer is an insult, Mister Senate President." Martina said. I can see the fear in Mister's Juarez eyes. He just smiled at her.

"It's almost four. SONA starts at five. We should be early; millions of Filipinos have been waiting for me." My father said. Martina and Mister Juarez nodded.

The senate president walked first. My father and Martina slowly followed Mister Juarez, still wrapping his hands around her. As we walked straight to the head entrance, the senate president stopped and turned around.

"Wait a minute," Mister Juarez stated, crossing his arms. My father and Martina also stopped in confusion. "Today's your birthday, right?" I smiled and nodded. 

It's just so funny that the person who remembered my birthday is the person I did not expect at all, not even my father or Sebastian. I saw Martina and my father's eyes widened in surprise. I was not expecting them to remember my birthday at all; as I mentioned, my expectations for them were low.

"Happy birthday, Hijo." Mister Juarez greeted me. I gave him my widest smiled and mouthed him the word thank you.