At age 14, my entire world split apart.

I was born in a wealthy family. My mother is beautiful and my father is influential. Our name is a legacy and often I was the envy of the crowd because of the life I live.

I was in a fairy-tale book.

Suicide was a foreign word to me until I walked upon my twin sister, bleeding herself nearly to death with her wrists slashed.

Do not scratch yourself. Mommy would always say to me. Not even a tiny scab, or you will be imperfect.

She drummed it into my head at such a young age that I grew up afraid of doing anything that might scratch my skin.

I couldn't understand why Stormie did it or what drove her to glide the edge of the scissors across her skin. I tried imagining it, the searing pain like hot lightning, blood gushing out while her hand is on fire.

"Pagod na ako..." sagot niya nang komprontahin ko tungkol sa nangyari. "Gusto ko nang umalis sa pamamahay na ito."

What she did caused a huge scandal in our household and she was exiled to Cremona. Mommy could not bear the humiliation of her own blood trying to end her life. She forbade everyone in the household to even mention Stormie's name, as if she didn't grace the halls or slept in the velvet mattress in one of the rooms. Housekeepers who witnessed what happened were paid huge chunks of money to keep their mouths shut.

She was gone for a year and when she came back, she seemed more dead than she looked while she was bleeding on our polished floors.

Stormie could barely curl her lips to smile. She didn't talk, and when she did, often she was not heard. Mommy could've acted like she didn't exist, I think it will hurt less, but she acted as if she was a pest. She would remind her of how big of a disappointment she is every chance she gets.

"Sana hindi nalang ako bumalik," palagi niyang sampit. I looked hurt and she immediately looked guilty. Her shoulder dropped in sorrow.

"Stormie," I reached for her hand and immediately, something rushed in my throat. She is the sweetest girl I've ever met and unlike me, she was true to herself. When we were young, she'd curled sleeping against me in the sun. Those were the days that I could feel my love overflowing for her. I want her to know. "I'm glad you're back."

We grew up in the same household but we grew up differently. While I was talking about boys and makeup, Stormie is talking to her characters and creating her own world. She didn't care much about boys like I did and she is even more in love with her fictional characters than real-life boys.

"Trust me, they are much more romantic than these boys," she giggled one time while skimming the pages of her worn-out book.

"How so? They're not even real!" I pouted.

She smiled at me, her eyes glowing. It was one of the rare times when she'd talk endlessly about the boys in her fictions—how no one in real life would ever reach her standards. It intrigued me because I wanted to create a standard list just like her, so I can pick better boys and have my happily ever after too, just like in her stories.

So when I was 16, I had my first boyfriend. His name is Duke and he's one of the thousand cousins hailing from Herrera family, a political clan in La Union that my family is affiliated with. He's tall, tan, and very sporty. I liked him for his looks and we looked together in photos so we dated. He'd give me luxurious jewelry, flowers, and imported chocolates. At first, it was fun but I got bored after. And Duke made me feel obligated because he is love bombing me. He wants me to do stuff with him when I was still trying to get to know him.

"Hindi mo na ba ako mahal, Shantel?" he'd plead in his bedroom voice.

Sometimes, he'd give me a necklace for an excuse to touch my throat and neck, and he'd give me unsolicited kisses. Tinutulak ko siya palayo nang makaramdam ako ng takot sa ginagawa niya.

"We've been dating for three months, Shantel. Not even a kiss? Do you want more jewelry? Flowers? Tell me, I'll give it to you!"

Duke must've lost his patience because one time when we were alone in the classroom, he really forced his hand under my skirt. I pushed him away and got mad, and he got even madder at me. We were yelling at each other while my heart is beating so fast, it'll explode from my chest.

"Pa-hard to get ka kasi! Dun din naman yan patungo!"

I went home that day, crying. Stormie is right. I should stick to fictional guys instead. They wouldn't hurt me like this.

After that, I only did flings and not boyfriends. I only liked the thrill of being chased but once the chase is over, I end things with them. I've been called several names like heartless and cold and a tease but it didn't bother me anymore.

At least I wouldn't meet another Duke again.

We spent our summer in Spain for our annual family reunion. Dad's family is big and reputable. I have a hundred cousins and a thousand uncles and aunts, living from all over the world and running their own businesses. During the week-long celebration, their lips grew red with the finest wine and their eyes shone like crystals when talking to each other, especially about our riches and legacy.

We invest in things that government won't—oil and gas and housing and gold, Dad would say in his drunken voice while talking to one of my aunts. They can't tax the rich. That is something the poor will never understand.

Hindi sumasama si Stormie kapag niyayaya ng mga pinsan ko na lumabas. We have an ancestral mansion where my great-great grandfather lived with his two wives—hence, the string of children. He was wealthy, and the generations that lived after him never had to worry about money because he secured it all for us.

I lolled with my cousins, sneaking up to the halls where the adults gather. They don't pay taxes, so they created a version of it exclusive to the Roman family. Each year, a family is required to contribute 10% of its annual income and assets to the pandora's box, as they term it. An underground basement filled with treasury, glittering riches from all over the world. I had never seen it, none of my young cousins ever did. But I knew it was real. They talk of the rarest sapphires and rubies and jewels won from private biddings. Paintings and artifacts that should've been in museums lay hidden in the cold dark, surrounded with bars of gold and vault after vault of money.

I wasn't stupid. I knew the crucifix necklace contains a microchip with my great-great grandfather's fingerprint and iris recognition. It was the only way to get through the security system, and the current heir to the clan is my unaware sister, Stormie.

No one was ever interested to grab the necklace and open the basement. Not really. We were so spoiled of money that we got so sick and uninterested of it. Only outsiders and non-family members would drool over the idea of pandora's box.

Natutulog lang palagi si Stormie at halos walang kinakausap sa amin. Sometimes, I'd spend the day in her room, opening the windows and basking in the sun while she read her books in the corner. Sometimes, she'd read it to me in her sweetest voice, eyes gleaming, heart pounding in excitement. I wasn't really interested in stories, but I liked hearing her voice and seeing her smile. For me, it was rare and should also belong in our pandora's box.

When I reached 17, I could only see Stormie when we were in the house. We go to separate schools and no matter how I plead my parents to transfer her back to our school, they won't hear any of it.

"Mommy, public school po yun. Baka hindi komportable si Stormie. Malayo pa."

"Well, she shouldn't do something humiliating in the first place if she really wants to stay in Stella Maris!"

"Daddy, limot na po yun ng mga tao. Bakit hindi pa rin siya bumabalik?"

But my Dad wouldn't answer me. He rarely does. He's been so indifferent to me towards my entire life. I could count the number of times using my fingers when he smiled or acknowledged me. He acted, most of the time, as if I didn't exist. No matter how I savage my brain, I couldn't remember what I did so wrong to offend him. He only loves Mommy, while the rest of us are just background people.

"Let her stay there, Shantel, where she can squawk with like-minded people. This conversation is over. I don't want you bringing this up again."

I never talked about this in front of Stormie. I don't know how to comfort her, and it is driving me crazy. I don't want her to be sad and see her crying, but even I had no power over my parents. Tumatahimik nalang ako dahil alam kong wala naman akong maitutulong sa mga problema niya.

"What are you reading?" I pressed my cheeks against Stormie, startling her. I laughed. She blinked at me and then showed me her book. Traffic patungo sa school at bored ako sa cellphone ko kaya ginugulo ko siya.

Stormie pointed the bluegreen cover of her book. "Someday."

Tumango-tango ako. "Is it good?"

She smiled at me. "I'll let you know once I'm finished."

Nang umandar ulit ang sasakyan, hinayaan ko nalang siya sa libro niya. Alam kong ayaw niyang ginugulo siya pag nagbabasa, she just wouldn't tell it. She was always so afraid of confronting people, even at her own expense. Sometimes, I'd push her to the edge just to make her stand up for herself, each time failing than the last. Pinipili niyang unawain ang tao kesa na mag-reklamo. It was a good trait, really. But I'm just afraid that people would take advantage of her so I'm trying to make her realize it.

Una kaming nakarating sa school niya. Zechariah is waiting for her at the waiting shed already. Her face glowed upon seeing her. I bit my lower lip and watched her happily got out of the car. I glanced at my wrist watch and followed her. Hindi pa naman ako mali-late.

"Hi, Zech!" masigla kong bati sa kaniya.

She stared at me with dead eyes and forced a fake smile on her face. "Hi." Tipid niyang bati.

"Uhm..." Stormie awkwardly stood between us.

My lips trembled with a smile. Itinuro ko ulit ang sasakyan. "Sige, balik na ako. Ingat kayong dalawa!"

Hindi sumagot si Zechariah. Stormie nodded and smiled at me.

I went to the car and climbed inside, disappointed. Before I finally shut the door, I caught Zechariah's whispered words.

"I don't like your sister."

It was like a punch in the gut. I swallowed hard and settled into the car, refusing to glance at them. I don't want to see Stormie's reaction to what she just said. I'm not expecting betrayal from her but I still didn't want to look.

It's just sad because I really did my best to be friends with Zechariah but each time I try, she turns me down. My sister's trusted friend painted me as an enemy. Katulad ni Daddy, hindi ko rin alam kung anong nagawa ko sa kaniya.

It doesn't matter. I eat hurtful words and disappointed looks for breakfast. It shouldn't be a big deal. Mommy does that to us, often. Some rare times, my Dad would rather focus his attention on his political career than her looks and her venom would fell on us.

Stupid Stormie, she'd seethe in the breakfast table. I told her to wear sweaters to cover her scars.

Sometimes, I would take the bullet of her words.

Why can't you be like me, Shantel? Her voice rang sharp and painful in my ears, making my knees wobble. Simpleng bagay lang ang pinapagawa ko sa iyo. Are you a disappointment, like your sister too?

It would stay in my head for days, drilling holes and leaving marks. Paminsan-minsan lang naman ako pinapagalitan ni Mommy pero sa tuwing nagagalit siya, may diin at nananatili sa isipan ko sa matagal na panahon. This is why I walk around eggshells when I'm with her, afraid of disappointing her or making a mistake.

I call it self-love; they call it puppetry.

"Manong, hindi na muna ako papasok ngayon." Deklara ko habang umaandar ang sasakyan.

Our driver looked at me in shock. "Ma'am? Bakit po?"

"Masama po pakiramdam ko," I said.

It was half-truth, half-lie. Totoo namang masama ang pakiramdam ko. My brain is hurting along with my spiraling mental health down the drain. I don't want my classmates to see me in such a pitiful state today. Sometimes, I can't stop myself from shaking when something bad happens. Even when I convinced myself that I was calm and collected, my fingers wouldn't stop trembling on its own. It all started with what happened to Stormie. I blamed myself and went into a mental shock all alone, the trauma growing into something deeper. I took Xanax without letting anyone know, even my own mother.

I could feel the weight of the anxiety pills inside my designer bag, a glaring reminder of what a fucking clown I was.

"Magpapahatid po ba kayo pabalik sa bahay?"

"Wag na po. Diretso nalang kayo sa office ni Daddy, baka malate pa kayo, eh."

He scratched the back of his head, contemplating. He has to go to my Dad's office after dropping us in school and be on standby each time my Dad has to go somewhere. He's a busy man and is always on the go. Manong can't afford to be late. At least not because of me.

Bumaba ako malapit sa mall at nagpaalam sa kaniya. I looked around aimlessly and decided to spend the entire day in a coffee shop. I went inside and took a seat, ordered my coffee. If I were Stormie, I would've been people-watching and writing stories in my secret little notebook. Or an artist who draws strangers and plucks inspiration from the people around them. Even at least a businessman on a zoom meeting with his client from across the world.

But I'm none of them.

I felt more alone. And the coffee was such a bad idea because I trembled even more. Nagpalinga-linga ako. There were students around, hunched over their books, staring endlessly at their laptops. To my left, a young woman sat nervously with two orders of iced lemon juice on her table.

My phone buzzed. I was expecting my friends or Ylona to text me because it's late and I still haven't showed up in school.

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My fingers gripped the phone tightly I thought it would break. I took a shaky breath and dropped it to the table, grabbing my coffee and taking a sip. I was grumbling to myself, looking like an idiot. Nang mag-angat ako ng tingin, nagtama ang tingin namin ng lalaking nakaupo sa tapat ko.

I'd recognize that storm-wave dark eyes anywhere.

He is with his group of classmates, wearing the uniform from Saint Louis College. In the sun ray light, their backs glowed soft. I could tell they spent the entire night in this 24/7 coffee shop. His eyes were smoked with caffeine, yet his face glowed.

The jerk stared back at me and as if remembering me, he frowned.

Lumipad ang kamay ko sa dibdib. What the hell did I do? The last time I saw him was in a Halloween party and he was mad at me. Now, he's looking mad at me again.

Iniwas ko ang tingin nang mapansing tinitingnan na din ako ng katabi niya. All guys in their table are from the law school. It was such an interesting group to watch because usually boys with their faces are hopping from one bar to another, looking for girls to lay. But here they are with their thick books and coffee and glasses.

Siniko-siko siya ng katabi niya at ngumisi. He whispered something that made the guy glare at him. I haven't heard him talk. The guy next to him continued to rant and started throwing jokes around. Nagtawanan naman ang mga kasama niya. The only one who remained serious and focused was him.

He had the same drive and focus I saw in my sister's eyes when she's talking about books or writing a story. It was the fever of passion taking over—something I'd never experience. But it was satisfying to watch it from other people. People who are authentic to themselves and does not lead a pretentious life.

I sighed and looked up when someone approached my table. He's also a student, around my age. He looks flustered and embarrassed, but he still smiled at me. From a distance, I saw his friends cheering and taking videos of him. Medyo nangunot ang noo ko.

"H-Hi. Pwede ko bang hingin ang number mo? Type kita, eh."

"Hindi kita type," diretso kong sagot sa kaniya.

The guy next to that man spits his drink. Did he hear me? Nanlalaki ang mga mata niyang nakatingin sa akin while his friend is already cursing him.

"What the fuck? You spit on my notes!" he roared.

Nagtawanan ang mga kasama niya. Hindi ko alam kung dahil ba yun sa reaction niya o sa naging sagot ko sa lalaki sa harapan. He looked even more embarrassed right now and immediately went back to their table. His friends howled and clapped his back. I could feel all eyes on me. My cheeks burned. I decided to leave.

I gathered my things and went to the counter, pulling out my credit card. The woman in the counter smiled at me but it faded when she saw my card.

"Hi, Ma'am, cash only po ang shop namin..."

"Huh?" namilog ang mga mata ko.

She pointed to the glass door, the small sign that says credit and debit cards are not accepted. The cash only printed in small font.

Heat crept to my cheeks. I can't believe I missed it! Binigyan ko siya ng hilaw na ngiti at hinalughog ang bag ko, only to find out that I don't have any cash with me.

Why would I need cash anyway? Manong drives us to school. Our cafeteria bills us in our names and does not collect cash as payment. Wherever I go, I pay with my card.

"Uhm..." cold sweat trickled my forehead. Nagpalinga-linga ako. Nagtama ang tingin namin ng lalaki kanina na napabuga sa kape niya kanina. He must've heard it. I gave him a puppy-eyed look. "One moment," I told the lady from the counter.

"Hi," I drenched my voice in honey, like my mother always does. I learned it from her. My honeyed voice will get me anything I want.

The guy smiled at me. I could feel the weight of the stare of rude man but I ignored him. Nag-focus ako sa kaibigan niya.

"I have a bit of a situation," I explained what happened and even showed them my card. "I can wire you the money right after. I swear!"

He chuckled. "Magkano ba yan?"

"220 lang."

Namilog ang mga mata niya at hinalughog ang sariling pitaka. He pulled the two purple bills from his worn wallet and searched his pockets. Nang wala siyang makita, siniko ulit niya ang katabi.

"Eros, pahiram ako bente."

The Eros guy did not flinch. Busy siya sa paghi-highlight sa libro niya. The guy poked him again.

"Hoy, pahiram ako sabi ng bente."

"What?" iritadong lumingon sa kaniya yung Eros.

"Bingi ka ba? Sabi ko pahiram ng bente—"

Eros looked at me angrily again. Halos mapaatras ako. I did not mean to disturb him! Kaya nga kaibigan niya ang nilapitan ko, eh.

"For God's sake," he murmured under his breath and pulled out his wallet. Kumuha siya ng bente at inabot sa akin. Para akong bata na nanghihingi ng pambili ng candy mula sa tatay niya. "9429-1865-92."

"Huh...?"

"My account number." Iritado niyang sagot. "Wire it to me."

I stood, gaping at him. For twenty freaking pesos? Pati ba naman yon?!

Humingi ako ng saklolo mula sa kaibigan niya. He just chuckled and handed the 200-peso bill to me.

"Okay na kahit hindi mo bayaran, libre ko na yan sa iyo."

"Hindi okay sa akin." Sabat naman ni Eros. "Hindi ko pinupulot ang bente pesos kaya bayaran mo."

"O-Of course!" I sputtered words with my flamed cheeks. I turned to him. "I'll pay you as well, I promise."

"I'll pay you as well, I promise." Eros mocked me in a tiny voice. Mas lalo akong namula. He resumed studying and did not talk to me. Binayaran ko muna ang kape at binalikan ang lalaki. I formally introduced myself and asked for his FB account so I could chat him and send the money.

"Kyros," he grinned at me, shaking my hand.

"Nice meeting you, Kyros," I smiled politely and went out.

Akala ko matatapos na ang kamalasan ko nang lumabas pero nagtuloy-tuloy pa ito. Heavy rain poured and I was forced to stay in a waiting shed, cramped with other commuters who were like sharks attacking a tiny prey each time a PUJ stops.

I looked at my phone in desperation and tried to book an Uber but I couldn't find a driver. Palaging searching at ilang minuto na ang nakakalipas ay wala pa ring uma-accept sa booking ko. Groaning in frustration, I stood there until the crowd thinned. Hindi pa rin tumitila ang ulan. I cursed.

I should've gone home. Mommy is away today and would not mind me not attending school. I would've been in my bed, comfortable and worry-free. Instead, I'm here, stressing over my stupidity and the endless rain.

Napatingin ulit ako sa coffee shop. Hindi naman ako makabalik doon dahil wala akong pera pang-order. The glass door opened and the group of Eros came out. Isa-isa silang nagpaalam at pumunta sa sari-sariling sasakyan. Kyros went with his friend to the parking lot.

I stared at the car with envy. I've never been jealous of a driver's license until today. Basa na ang sapatos ko at nangangalay na din ang paa ko sa kakatayo. My hair is damp from the drizzles of the rain. I am getting hungry, too.

Napasandal ako sa poste at mariing ipinikit ang mga mata. When I fluttered my eyes open, I almost had a heart attack when I saw Eros glaring at me from the driver's seat. Kyros is waving happily from the shotgun seat.

"Nagsh-shoot ka ba ng music video?" sarkastiko niyang tanong sa akin.

Namula ulit ako sa kahihiyan. Kyros waved again to get my attention.

"Hatid ka na namin! San ka ba?"

I hesitated for a moment. Going to a car with boys I've only met today is a good start of a serial killer story. My stomach growled again. I flushed. I'm damp and hungry and desperate.

"If you're just going to stand there all day, bunny, just tell us and stop wasting our time." Eros remarked again.

Siningkitan ko siya ng mga mata. "Hindi niyo naman ako kikidnapin, diba?"

"As if." He scoffed. "Hindi ako mahilig sa bata."

I smiled, something strange rising in me while looking at his annoyed face. I stepped into the rain and got in his car.