PHASE TWENTY-SIX

THE COUNTERFEIT SCULPTOR

I felt like I received banishment from a place that I hadn't been to.

It wasn't the best feeling that I could ever have because the hollowness at the pit of my heart was too painful to bear.

Why would I have to feel this if I wasn't a part of it, anyway? There was no probable cause for this to happen, or maybe this was also one of my instances where I deceive myself to protect myself.

But was that possible—you hurt yourself to protect yourself?

I think it sounded ridiculous. It sure was, and it was painful. However, it's happening, so I was living proof of it. And no matter how I tuck it deep in my bag so I could forget it, just like my hopes, it kept resurfacing at the top.

So, I went on and tried to live with it, just like how I used to.

A few weeks had elapsed, and Michelangelo and I grew even more distant. Giuseppe was hesitant to ask about what happened, so he didn't do anything. He didn't comment about Michelangelo's seat that used to be beside me was now far from me.

It doesn't matter to me, anyway. Because, to begin with, I was aware that this type of thing won't last.

I won't last, so this was just an early farewell. I expected that I won't be hurt a lot, but my expectations won't always be met.

That's why I buried it, so I won't be reminded of it.

Masyadong marami na akong bitbit kaya kailangan kong maging mapili sa dadalhin.

I also try to go home at least once a month. Kumukuha ako ng permit sa school para ro'n pero kalimitan ay hindi ako umuuwi dahil nakukulong kapag nananatili ro'n.

They were all about the bragging rights of their children, and it was all too suffocating that's why I opt on staying away. It was the decision that I had been making ever since.

I was reminded of my feeling when I was with him—it was all too foreign.

He was guiding me, and he was giving directions, but instead of being directed, I felt the opposite. I felt confused, and I believed that it grew when he asked me who was I asking to come home?

Or maybe I was the one who misled myself by declaring that I'm asking Lael to come home? That he was correct with what he said—that I was the one who tormented myself and put myself in a path that I knew I couldn't get out of.

I was unsure—and it irked me, but should it? This was journeying, and journeying was all about uncertainty because the end of it wasn't promised.

Because as you walk, you'll always be in the middle—in the middle of walking, in the middle of stopping, in the middle of trying, and in the middle of continuing. Since you're in the middle of a process, confusion and forgetting on keeping track of was given.

Comfort ourselves with the idea that this confusion was normal—from what had Tres Lagdameo had led me to believe—and that there was nothing wrong in being lost. It just happened that your status of being 'lost' was early than others, as a phase in everyone's life.

But along the way, I knew that I had forgotten what I was doing—I had forgotten who I was. It all felt foreign—which shouldn't scare me because I had been used to it. I had been spending the rest of my years immersing myself in disciplines that I was unfamiliar with, of course, it should've lessened my fear about it.

But why wasn't it working?

What was wrong?

What should I remove from my bag or from the soles of my feet so I could go on?

Because I found someone who I was familiar with?

Was that the answer behind everyone's desire to stay—familiarity because it was the best way to go around?

As much as I hated returning to the beginning, I wanted to know what went wrong.

Saan ako nagsimula at saan ako nagtapos? Saan nagmula itong pabugso-bugso kong damdamin upang sa susunod ay hindi ko na madaanan ulit?

Natatakot ako na sa pagdinig ko sa bugsong ito ay tuluyan na akong mawala. Natatakot ako na sa pagdinig sa mga sinasabi ng mga taong bihasa ay mahila akong magpakabihasa sa isang disiplina. At natatakot ako na kapag hindi na ito pabugso-bugso at nagpakabihasa na ako ay mawala na ang kagustuhan kong ipursige 'to.

In the end, I was a wanderer seeking a place to stay.

So, I stopped in the middle.

Being birthed to life was the beginning, living was in the middle, and death was the end.

So, I lived.

"Hi! Ikaw si Xeverna Lael, right? The art prodigy! Sumasali ka rin sa mga singing contests dati, 'di ba?"

I sighed when I saw the glint in her eyes.

She was one of those students who asked me the same question—You're the art prodigy, right?

Why didn't you acknowledge yourself as an art prodigy anymore? Living my life surrounded by achievements, I felt tired of it. It's why I do not acknowledge their words related to it because being deaf was the best choice.

"I was," tipid kong sagot. "But I'm not a prodigy anymore."

And my reply would always be dismissive because I don't care about it anymore.

Napanguso siya. "Ha? What do you mean? Paanong hindi ka prodigy e 'yung skills mo nga sa iba't ibang larangan na-sho-showcase? Kita ko 'yung painting mo sa Raison, ah! Ang pretty-pretty! Kailan ka ulit gagawa no'n?"

Painting?

I grew tired of it.

"I won't do it anymore."

Bumusangot siya. "Ay, bakit?"

"Nagsawa na 'ko," tipid kong sagot, may maliit na ngiti sa labi.

Lalo siyang napabusangot. "Sayang." She doesn't sound apologetic, rather, mocking. "Iinterviewhin sana kita tungkol do'n pero mukhang ayaw mo. 'Wag na lang pala."

Binigyan niya ako ng pilit na ngiti at iniwan akong nakatayo ro'n.

I sighed and continued heading towards the student's lounge.

I hated how they make me feel that being an art prodigy was a waste, but it was the truth, and I could hear myself in them. Because what was the use of forcibly immersing yourself in a path that you were uninterested in when at the end of the day, you won't pursue it?

For others, it was the best way to guide a directionless person to see where they wanted to be. They would see it as a beacon and believe that it was better to be doing something rather than doing nothing. You'd get a lot of praises from people saying that you were such a genius for being good at this.

But were praises the most important thing? Wasn't it happiness? Stability? Satisfaction? It's all about our wellbeing, and not others. But, of course, those who were brainwashed wouldn't even seek it because they were too occupied.

Occupied, wasn't that my current state?

Occupied in journeying and never staying. Occupied in mastering one skill before moving to another so I could be good at everything. And eventually, those types of things—pushing yourself to like a path that you don't want to tread would cause burnout, and as a result, a loss of direction.

That's where I was, wasn't it?

Not directionless but burned out.

Burned out before the fire could ever exist.

Like how I got lost in thinking, instead of stopping at the Suite le Passion, I got into The Raison instead. Pero dapat ba akong matuwa na hindi ko na nakikita ang sarili ko na humihingi ng permiso mula sa mga estatwa na makapasok?

O dahil alam ko na kung paano ako nagsimula?

People stay because... they understood.

I stopped walking when I saw Michelangelo's built in the lobby, but I was too late because he already noticed me.

Clenched jaw, he looked at me, his face serious.

"Lael," he muttered, his tone hostile. "May sasabihin ako."

We stopped talking after the studio incident and drifted farther after that. So, today would be the first time that we'd talk after a long period of silence.

"About what?" I met his stare.

He took a step forward; his movement was a little hesitant.

Before he drew his head near my ear and whispered, "About you being an art prodigy."

Nahigit ko ang hininga.

"Okay lang ba na pag-usapan natin 'yon dito? Pwede tayong lumabas."

I felt the pull of the Raison so, no.

"I'm fine here."

He sucked a deep breath, nodded before he dragged me towards the sculpture area. May ibang mga estudyante ro'n na tumitingin sa mga naka-display na iskultura.

"I heard that you were a singer."

"I'm still an art wanderer," balewala kong sabi, tinitingnan ang ibang mga iskultura.

I saw him stare at me. "Bakit mo..." He stopped. "Nagustuhan mo bang kumanta?"

He followed me to where I walked. "I liked it, but it wasn't for me."

"Pagpipinta, hindi rin?" I shook my head. "Piano? Ballet? Theater acting?"

"No, I grew tired of it. My parents don't want me to pursue ballet because it's time-consuming. Hindi rin naman ako interesado ro'n."

"But you were good at it."

Mariin kong ipinikit ang mata nang humapdi ang dibdib.

"I was,"—my tone was bitter—"but I don't want to remember it anymore. Ayoko nang pag-usapan ang mga 'yon."

He nodded as he followed me in front of the big replicas The Raison had.

Bakit nakasunod pa rin siya sa 'kin? Akala ko tapos na siya ro'n.

"Habakkuk and the Angel by Gianlorenzo Bernini," he murmured when we stopped in front of the replica.

Sinulyapan ko siya ng tingin. "Magkukwento ka ba tungkol d'yan?"

Nanatili ang tingin niya sa 'kin, ang mukha ay hindi mabasa.

Was my question an indicator that our accompaniment would return? Was that what's running inside his mind? Or maybe he was silently mocking me because now that I got in, I left, and now I wanted to get in again?

Lael, you're the one who's tormenting yourself.

"Kung gusto—"

"No," mabilis kong sagot. "I don't think it's appropriate anymore."

He clenched his jaw, his stare calculating. "Right."

I looked away when bitterness lingered at the pit of my chest.

The truth was—I wanted to listen to him talking about how Bernini was able to translate stone into feathers and flesh. I wanted to appreciate how the weaves on the woven basket were intricate. I wanted to know the history and how Bernini planned this sculpture, but without anyone to lecture me about it, I was left to fend off my own understanding.

Which was lacking.

Nahigit ko ang hininga, naiintindihan na ang pagkilala sa sarili ay magdadala ng iba't ibang emosyon.

"Lael, do you know the saying, 'jack of all trades, master of none—"

"—though oftentimes better than master of one.'"

Mula sa gilid ay nangangapa niya akong tiningnan.

Tinagpo ko ang tingin niya. "Are you going to ask me if that was my motto in life?"

The nerve in his jaw ticked. "Hindi 'yon ang plano ko."

I disregarded what he said and looked away. "To be honest, I don't know the whole quote. Alam ko lang 'yung sinabi mo dahil kailan ko lang nalaman 'yung sinabi ko. Looking back, I think having a motto or not doesn't matter anymore. It was a guide, but how long could I use it?"

I had countless of "guides" but I couldn't even use it nor utilize it.

Masyado akong... ligaw para alam kung ano ang tamang ginagawa.

Narinig ko ang pagsinghal niya. Nang bumaling ako ay kunot ang kan'yang noo.

"Bakit balewala lang ang lahat para sa 'yo?" iritable niyang tanong.

I almost snickered.

Balewala?

I think it meant too much for me to the point that I grew tired of its importance.

"Where did you get that idea from? Wala naman akong binanggit," saad ko, ang boses ay nanghihina.

Tumikhim siya. "It's in your tone, Xeverna Lael."

Tones.

There we go again.

Palihim akong suminghap. "Then I'm not sorry that you're treating my tone as that way."

He let out a mocking chuckle. "Akala ko ang dami ko nang alam tungkol sa 'yo. Kaonti pa pala 'yon."

Bakit? Bakit gusto mong may malaman ka sa 'kin?

This shouldn't be happening, Michelangelo. This was not the right path.

"Why? Are you hurt?" lakas-loob kong tanong.

"Oo." Hinuli niya ang tingin ko. "Sobra. Kasi pakiramdam ko, dinaanan mo lang ako."

His raspy voice that used to linger in my ear was now replaced by the bitterness and betrayal in his tone. I was confused why he sounded betrayed when I didn't give him any signs to trust me.

But no matter what his reason was, I hid my confusion under a matter of passiveness and nonchalance.

"I'm a passerby; I have too little time to appreciate them," I reasoned out, the pain in my chest intensified.

"'Wag mo akong rasonan ng gan'yan," saad niya, nagtitimpi. "Kasi kahit padaan-daan lang, pwede pa ring i-appreciate ang mga nadaraanan. 'Wag mong ikulong ang sarili mo sa pag-iisip na kung anong nararansan mo ay pahapyaw lang. Bakit? Kasi nagsisinungaling ka sa sarili mo dahil natatakot ka."

Itinungo ko ang ulo nang maramdaman ang paghapdi ng mata. "I just want to protect myself."

"Paano mo poprotektahan sarili mo kung bulag ka sa totoo?" He carefully touched my shoulders. "You're making me frustrated, Lael, and—"

"Isn't that what you feel when you journey?"

He clenched his jaw. "You're all about journeying," saad niya. "Hanggang d'yan ka na lang ba talaga? Wala ka bang planong tumigil?"

Nagmamakaawa ko siyang tiningnan, ang luha ay nagbabadyang magsituluan.

I shakily sucked a deep breath. "A-Alam ko na kung saan ako patungo kaya 'wag mo na akong harangan..."

It was one of the few moments that my façade was weakened, and I didn't like an inch of it.

The anger in his eyes slithered into smoke before it was replaced by betrayal and pain, then realization that maybe, he couldn't help me all along. That he was a hindrance, and he had been delaying my path for as long as I could remember.

Napaawang ang bibig niya, ang mata ay napunta sa kung saan-saan. Nilunok ko naman ang hikbi na muntikan nang makalabas mula sa bibig.

Ang malakas na kamay na nasa balikat ko ay unti-unting humina hanggang sa mahulog sa gilid niya.

Pumamewang siya, ang isang kamay naman ay nakatakip sa bibig, mariin ang pagkapipisil sa mukha. Umiling-iling, nagpakawala ng mababang tawa bago napunta sa ismid. Nanatili siya sa posisyon na 'yon nang ilang segundo habang ang puso ko ay malakas ang tibok.

I wasn't sure if I was cutting any ties here or the ties were already severed before I could cut another.

All I knew was—I was hurt with the betrayal that I was seeing.

He shot me another look before he spun and walked away.

Maybe, I'm deaf to what I want.

Maybe I wanted him to stay by my side, but I was too mum to speak about it.

But it's for the better because, in this way, the chances of hurting him would lessen.

I was aware that I started my sculpture journey slow—nangangapa at kinakalkula ang bawat yapak na idinidiin sa lupa. Ngunit kahit na gaano kaingat magsimula, gano'n kabilis ang gitna. Gano'n din kabilis matapos.

So, I couldn't blame myself if I'd be shocked to know that the sculptures that were once cold, were now warm.

And it all felt the same to the sculptures that I used to touch before.

The Ophelia sculpture... The Galatea sculpture...

Were they warm because I wasn't accompanied by the bronze sculptor anymore? Or was this warmth the lingering heat from the bronze that would last until I recognized that it was gone?

I sucked a deep breath, the swelling in my throat returned. My eyes started to sting, but I don't want to cry.

Not yet. Not until I could fully grasp that the sculpture was warm in my hands.

But my tears beat me into it.

Natakpan ko ang bibig dahil sa papausbong na malakas na hikbi. Hindi ko magawang patahanin ang sarili dahil ang mga emosyong matagal nang naipon ay unti-unting nagsilabasan.

Another chain was broken, and I was unsure if there was anything left.

I felt... free again, and it was the best feeling that I had since the last time that I felt it.

It was all so overwhelming, at the same time, satisfying because even if I was confused, I was happy. I don't know if there were any restrains left, but it felt that I could finally breathe.

And I did.

Michelangelo, was this your parting glory?