Camille Syanna

"Come on, Cams. Zanti is part of the audience, he's been an active bidder since the start of the auction. You're beautiful, and if you'll make yourself available for bidding, who knows? He might bid for you and win a date with you tonight."

Remind me to kill Davidson Mondragon once this hell of a date is over. Why did I let that bastard talk me into this? I know Charity Dating is never a good idea. It was cheap. It was pathetic. And now, it was a trap.

He took me in his car, opened the door, and literally shoved me in because my legs were too stubborn to move. I. Don't. Want. This.

"You seem happy," I said between my teeth.

He slid into the driver's seat, looking smug. Unlike every other guy in the event, he was nattily unkempt. In a navy oxford shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his corded forearms. A pair of dark gray chinos and his timberlands. Douchebag.

"One of your dreams coming true? Dating me," I smiled sweetly, too sweet it might cause tooth decay. "Be grateful I'm a woman of my word, had I known Dave's a scheming bastard. I wouldn't have agreed. But alright, one night won't kill me. Besides, I'm starving. I want a Japanese sirloin steak. There's a Hide Yamamoto in City of Dreams. Take me there."

He snatched my Moschino clutch from my lap. I was about to snarl at him when he started the engine and drove off the parking lot.

"Vot eto pizdets!" I reached for the seatbelt and fastened it, then shot him a glare. "Give me back my purse!"

"Did you just curse in Russian?" His lips curved in a crooked smile.

"Don't smile at me. Give me my purse!" I repeat.

"First of all, you can't boss me around, you're in my car." He said grimly. "Second, the ball is in my court this time."

"Doesn't give you the right to steal my purse!"

"Says the girl who runs my credit card without authorization."

"Well, you deserve it! You're a jerk!" I exclaimed. I'm mad.

I hate it. I hate ZA. I hate the way I'm losing my patience with him. I'm not generally like this. I avoid getting mad because a bad mood isn't healthy for the skin. Mental, emotional, and even physical stress causes acne breakouts. I've read somewhere that some scientists believe tension induces acne, which is caused by an increase in sebum, an oily matter that is supposed to help protect the skin but easily mixes with dead cells and bacteria to clog hair follicles to create pimples. Eew.

"Saan mo ko dadalhin?" Pinilit kong kalmahin ang aking sarili, naiinis man ako, mahalaga pa rin sa akin ang ganda ko. "I need to be home before the clock ticks twelve."

"What are you, Cinderella?" He smirked, not giving a damn. Nilingon ko siya at nakatutok pa rin ang kaniyang mga mata sa daan. "And didn't you hear the second of? Ball is in my court. I get to decide what's going to happen."

"Seriously, Zayn Andrei. I need to be home by twelve. I mean, that's actually pretty late, but okay, I can make some adjustments. Though I can't go any later than that. I have my nightly rituals."

He's not hearing me, or at least he pretends not to.

"I didn't know you have a big crush on me," I teased, leaning back in my seat and looking outside the window.

"Anyone can dream,"

"It's fine, ZA. You're not the first one to have a crush on me." Binalingan ko siya atsaka muling nginitian. "Boys line up on me like passengers in Metro station. Can't blame them. I'm pretty, smart, rich, and everything a man could ever need."

"You're so full of yourself,"

No. I've battled against so many insecurities and low self-esteem. It was tough to overcome, but I eventually did. I've come to realize that I'm fabulous and that I don't care if people think otherwise. But I'm not telling him that, so I shrugged.

We both remained silent for a while, he continued driving, and I watched from the window. To where he's taking me? Only God knows. Whatever this man is up to, I'm sure people saw us leave the event together. He will be the primary suspect if this night includes crimes.

I'm not used to staying late, so I'm already sleepy. I closed my eyes and left everything to ZA. If he's planning to drive his car until his tires give up, suit himself. I'm not going to argue. I don't have the energy. Maybe after I recharged myself, I will.

I woke up to comforting gushing waves. My forehead knotted after realizing that I was no longer in the car. I'm curling in the corner of a... boat? Am I in a boat? I pulled myself up, and only then I noticed the comforter that fell on my lap. My eyes roamed around the tiny boat and immediately saw ZA maneuvering it. Panic rushed to me. Where is he taking me?

"Zayn Andrei!" I shouted he didn't look back. "Where the hell are you taking me?"

I looked down at my Gucci, and it was two in the morning. I've slept for more than three hours, and now I'm in the middle of nowhere.

The surrounding is scary and dark. I'm afraid of the sea. I don't have a friendly experience with it. For me, it's a wicked place. No one knows how wide it is and how deep it is. It's never-ending. It's dangerous. It eats people alive.

"ZA, answer me, please..." I bit my bottom lip, gripping the sheet tightly, trying to keep my voice steady. My heart hammered inside my chest. It was too quiet, too scary.

That was when he looked at me over his shoulder. I couldn't see him clearly, but knowing he was here with me and I wasn't alone somehow calmed me down.

"Are you scared?" He said gently, reaching out his hand to me. "Come here,"

I hate ZA, but right now, he's the closest refugee I have. I stepped my feet to the cold floor of the boat, and only then I noticed I wasn't wearing my shoes anymore. I'd look for it later when it's no longer dark.

He reached my hand and guided me to sit beside him. It was super cold because we were literally sailing at midnight. I wrapped the thick comforter around my shoulder and looked at him.

"Where are we going, ZA? Answer me this time."

"Pagbilao, Quezon."

"Oh my, God." I sighed. "I don't even know where that is. But are we still far? It's scary, ZA. I can't stay long in the middle of the sea."

"Few more minutes, Camille." He said, squeezing my knee and resting his hand there. As if telling me that I'm safe. That with him, I'm safe. I appreciate the gesture, but that doesn't erase the fact that I'm still scared. "Are you hungry?"

"No, I'm scared," I admitted.

He chuckled softly, glancing at me. "I didn't know you'd be scared of the sea. That's a revelation."

"I'm sure I'm not the only one scared of it. Have you heard about sea monsters?"

"Those were folk beliefs."

I know. But still! I closed my eyes. It's too bad that I heard the sea. Seeing it surrounding me is worse. "I wish I didn't wake up yet."

"Go back to sleep," he whispered.

"Yeah, like I could. Now that I know I'm floating in the middle of nowhere." I hissed. "Seriously, around what time are you taking me back home? Please, wherever we're going, let's stay there until the sun comes out. I don't wanna be sailing in the dark again. Thank you."

The cold wind is blowing in our direction, my hair is everywhere, and the tie is already loosened. I'm shaking, still very thankful for the warmth of the comforter. I turned to check on ZA to see if he was cold.

"Are you feeling cold?" I asked.

"I'm alright." He seems okay, like he's used to it. He didn't mind the wind blowing his hair and brushing his skin.

"I hate you."

"Tell me something I don't know,"

"Only female mosquitoes will bite you."

He turned to me, looking amused.

I smiled. "I bet you didn't know that."

"I hate you," he whispered, grinning.

"Now, your turn, tell me something I don't know," I said.

"Obsessive nose picking is called Rhinotillexomania."

"Dweeb. But gross," I made a face. "Seriously, I hate you always, but I hate you more tonight. You ruined my chance to have a date with Zanti. Do you have any idea how badly I'm looking forward to it my whole life? I love that guy, ZA."

"I hate you more tonight," he repeated what I said. "You cost me four million. Imagine, it's now over seven million pesos. This whole thing is no anymore a joke."

"Well, in my defense, if you hadn't been a jerk, I wouldn't have taken three million from you! And about what happened tonight, I didn't ask you to spend a single penny for me. It's your own choice!" Now, we're back to bickering.

He didn't say anything. I sighed. I was closing my eyes again, refusing to look somewhere else. I moved my neck. I gasped when his hand reached up to the side of my face and guided me to lean my head on his shoulder. That's very kind of him, but still, I hate him. Although, I didn't decline the offer. I rested my head there, eyes still closed.

In no less than twenty minutes, we reached our destination. It's still dark. ZA holds out a flashlight. I saw him going for a duffle bag. A familiar Tommy Hilfiger duffle bag. He placed the strap over his shoulder and my black Jimmy Choo in his hand.

"We're here," he held out his hand on me. If it weren't too dark, I wouldn't accept it. But it is. I slipped my hand over him, and he helped me down.

I still wrapped the covers around me. I shivered when my toes touched the cold seawater. ZA didn't let go of my hands. We started walking on the sand. He effortlessly stepped on it with his heavy and soaking timberlands.

"I might step on something," I said in a low voice. ZA didn't respond immediately, perhaps thinking how right I was.

"You can't walk your six inches heels on the sand," he figures. I almost complained when he let go of my hand, but he stopped in front of me. His back was facing me. "Come on,"

"W-What?" I stuttered in confusion.

"You're right, you might step on something and hurt your toes. I'll carry you." He said.

"No way!" I exclaimed, shaking my head.

He looked up at me, handing me the flashlight. "Hold this, it's not too far. If we start walking now, we'll be there in no longer than ten minutes."

He's not leaving me with many choices. I sighed, taking the flashlight and riding his back. I wrapped my arms around his neck and directed the light in front of us. Then I slightly circled my legs on his hips. I can't remember when was the last time I rode someone's back. It must be first grade when my Dad and I walked our way home from school. I'm too lazy to walk, so my father carried me.

ZA started walking. My face was too close to his neck; I could smell him. He's not using any cologne. All I could sniff was his natural scent. Warm and earthy. He smells like cinnamon! That's yum! Sweet yet bark-like. I didn't realize I was burying my nose in the side of his neck until he groaned.

"What are you doing?" He hissed.

"How come you smell like cinnamon?" I looked at him, frowning.

"What?" He snapped, turning and giving a weird 'huh?' look. "You're hungry."

"I am not!" I went back to smelling his neck. "You're using cinnamon-scented soap, aren't you?"

He didn't say anything. That means he is. I laughed. Indeed everyone hides the most minuscule one kaartehan in their body. Only I have plenty.

"I'll give you Filthy Cock-" again, he snapped me a glare. "What?! The cinnamon-scented soap of Filthy Farmgirl made in Hawaii!"

"No, thank you." He politely declined.

"No! I insist!" I giggled. "That's my way of thanking you for not letting me walk on the sand!"

"A thank you would be nice,"

"But I'm nicer, so I'm gonna give you a soap, and you're going to accept it."

"Blah, blah," he made a face, then he stopped, pushing a picket fence open. "Now, we're here."

I was about to slide down when a barking Dalmatian welcomed us. I shrieked, dropping the flashlight and hugging ZA's back tightly. "Shit! Oh my, God. ZA, make that stop!"

"Pongo," he laughed, dropping my shoes to pat the dog's head when it eagerly started climbing on him.

"Oh my, God! My legs!" I slapped his back and choked him a little. "You don't just throw shoes!"

"I just did. Down now, Camille." He groaned, unclasping my arms on his neck. "Pongo is nice, he just smells Cruela De Vil in you."

"Fuck you!" I gritted my teeth, still hesitant to go down, but the bastard already shrugged me off his back. I kicked the back of his leg. He didn't flinch. I just hurt my foot. "Ouch!"

He hugged his dog like they missed each other so much. Then the dog moved away from him and went to smell me, no longer barking, but still! It's a dog! I don't know what it's thinking! No one knows! Because it's a dog! D. O. G.

"ZA, if your dog ever tries to bite my leg, I'm gonna kill you. I swear!" I'm trying so hard not to panic when I feel the dog licking me. "Oh my, God! Gross! ZA! It's malagkit!"

Holy hell.