Today I've been asked to go to a supermercado (which means supermarket) near calle ALFONSO FERNÁNDEZ CORONEL (same as the Tagalog word kalye, which is street, and also, that's a long-ass street name). My tita gave me a list of what I would buy and she gave me money. I check the list. I just need to buy:

Tide detergents.

Peach cans.

Oat milk.

2 dozen eggs.

Cereals. One Koko krunch. Two corn flakes.

That seems easy; except it's not. The supermercado is just near the house (as my tita said, I just have to literally walk straight until I reach the ALFONSO something street, and I should see Lidl, the name of the supermarket store), so I don't have to use public transportation just to get there.

Outside is scorching hot when I get outside, but it's not as painfully hot like in the Philippines. I take a slow stride, taking all the details my eyes can see. I can see why tita decided to stay here in this place. It's freaking beautiful. The houses are painted in similar color and they are built the same way. The difference? Their gate. The gate of each house is different. Some are wooden, and some are one of those metal gates that have spikes on the top. The people living in this area seem to have the money because it looks really expensive.

As I get farther and farther, repeating in my head that I just have to walk straight until I reach the far end, the houses get bigger and bigger. Cars are parked on the side, and not once have I ever seen any trash around. The place is completely clean.

I turn right when I'm in the far end of the street and walk straight ahead until I see the supermarket, and I sigh in relief as the big sign Lidl comes into view. I walk a bit faster until I reach the parking lot. There are several cars parked outside, and there seems to be less people inside. The guard greets me (¡Hola!) in a cheery way and I just smile back, not returning the cheerful greet.

Who knew that it's possible for me to not get lost? I tend to get lost. Like a lot. And it's always going to be part of me because, you know, my mind always wanders.

Grabbing a small cart, I check each isle to find what I need. I don't dare look at the signs attached above the isle because I don't understand it, so I decide to search for the items the hard way. Good thing the supermarket is just small and the place is easy to navigate.

Once I have everything that's listed in my note, I head over to the cashier where a lady, in her mid-30s, is busy chatting with her friends. When she sees me, she smiles and starts scanning the items.

"Efectivo o tarjeta?" The lady asks, and I freeze. The lady looks at me expectantly, and I'm sure she's asking about the money. Putangina. Mamamatay ako dito. I open my mouth, but no words come out. Pwede na bang mamatay?

"She's asking if you're paying cash or if you'll use your card," a guy carrying a small basket tells me. "Efectivo means cash, and tarjeta means card. So cash or card?"

"Cash," I reply awkwardly.

"Va a pagar en efectivo." The guy says. I hand the lady the money. She types something on the keyboard and gives me my change. "My name is Jorge."

"Andres,"

"New here?" The lady puts my things in a paper bag and hands it to me. I nod at Jorge. He grins. Perfect set of teeth is showing. "I practically saw you sweating there. Next time, you can just hand them the money and they'll get it."

Seriously, are all Spanish men hot and attractive?

Jorge has brown locks. His hair is trimmed to the side, but his locks look soft. It's a bit messy on top of his head but it looks really good. His beard and mustache are properly trimmed, so his face looks really clean. In fact, he has a baby face. Though he doesn't have puffy cheeks, but I could tell how many girls want to pinch his cheeks because they look really pinchable. Jorge is also wearing a single silver, heart-shaped earring.

He's wearing a black shirt with little text that I can't read on the left side, matched with black pants with thin white cross-cross design. There's a bracelet around his wrist, and his Peter Pan tattoo looks awesome. The way he moves is quite boyish, and I wonder how many girls have been broken by this guy. I'm talking about the girls' heart.

"Where are you from?" he asks me.

"Philippines," I reply as I move to the side to give him more room.

Jorge hums. "Philippines, nice." He grabs his two paper bags with one arm and motions for me to follow him. "I haven't been there, but I'd love to someday. I was told the beaches there are beautiful."

"They are," I agree and he grins.

Although I haven't been anywhere where the great beaches are, I can tell how beautiful they are because a lot of tourists are visiting it. I've only been to Batangas, and that's the farthest I've gone to. With our debt and Alex studying, I can't exactly treat myself to go on expensive trips, like going to Boracay or La Union. My budget wouldn't simply allow me.

Poor people problems.

"Are you from around here?"

"Yes,"

"I'll take you to your place then. I brought my car." Jorge nods his head.

"You don't need to do that." I assure him, and he shakes his head. "Seriously. I'm fine walking alone."

"I insist," Jorge halts and spins. I bump into him. "You're the first Filipino I met, so consider this as a great blessing. ¡Vamos! ¡Vamos!"

He walks towards his car a bit eagerly, and I shake my head in amusement. Very extrovert. And somehow, everything seems and feels easy with him. Must be an extrovert thing. I'm sure my parents would bombard me when they see I'm in a stranger's car. Mom would totally flip. I can practically hear her words: Kung kani-kanino ka nasakay. Baka mamaya san ka dalhin nyan.

Mom, I'm really sorry.

Jorge ends up taking me home with his car after I told him the address. He puts the things I bought in the back seat. His speaker blasts Spanish upbeat songs that I never really understand, but he keeps bobbing his head. I just enjoy the beat while using my legs as drums. Though the trip is short, he manages to get me in a conversation about my brother. All in English. I don't have to panic internally and be afraid that he's cussing me out.

The weather is quite windy now, and Jorge opens the windows of his Sedan. He looks at me a bit before focusing his eyes on the road. I let out my head through the open window and enjoy the weather. I let out a sigh and shut my eyes for a moment, and think of my brother and my friends back in the Philippines. I wish they could see how beautiful it is here.

The street where I live in comes into view, and Jorge stops in front of the house. He inspects it for a few moments and comments that it's a nice house. I get out of the car.

"Gracias," I tell him and smile.

He hums in approval. "Speaking Spanish now, ¿güey?" I laugh as I tilt my head a bit, a bit curious about the word he just said. He notices my curiosity. "It's a slang. Mexican slang. It doesn't really have... any equivalent in English, but it's like saying dude."

"Okay, güey." He chuckles. "Thanks for taking me home. You didn't have to."

"Consider it as a gift for being the first Filipino I have ever met,"

"I must be so lucky." I laugh.

"I know I am." He responds before he checks his phone. "I have to go. Nice meeting you, Andres. Care to visit someday? Isabella, my friend, runs a small coffee shop here called Café Azul. It's just near here. A couple of streets away. I'm there every morning. If you go there, your first Spanish latte is on me."

"Okay,"

"Claro,"

"What?"

"We mostly say claro when we agree on something," Jorge says to me. I nod my head. "Just say claro every time you say yes or agree on something. It helps."

"Claro," I grin.

"You're learning!" He gets out of the car to get my items and hands them to me. I thank him. "I really have to go. Isabella is waiting for me. But see you in Café Azul perhaps tomorrow?"

"Claro," we laugh. He shakes his head in amusement before taking a seat on the driver seat and heads off while saying ciao, and then followed by it means goodbye. I laugh again and enter the house, carrying the grocery items.

I store what I purchased where they are supposed to be. Tita already left for work, so the only ones in the house is Pablo and Luisa (finally, I remember her name now). Pablo is busy playing with his car toys again the living room while Luisa is watching television (a reality TV show and I forgot the title because the Spanish words are just really not sticking in my head) while casually glancing at Pablo just in case he does something. Then I begin cleaning the house because there's not much to do. Little Pablo begins making car noises that involves two cars crashing with each other, and I laugh at how cute he is.

Later that night, I receive a message from Alex that he's going to look for a part-time job so that he can help with me. I tell him that it's not necessary, and that I have savings left (though I don't tell him how little it is because I really don't want him to worry. It's just a few but it would last until two months). Of course, Alex being Alex, he insists that he wants to work so that he'd have savings of his own.

Alex is earning money by working on the homework of his classmates and other people studying in his school, though he does it anonymously to save himself from trouble. I don't really recommend it, but well, he just keeps continuing to do it. He earns about 200 or 300 pesos in every two days, which is enough to feed him for about three days.

My brother is not a picky eater. In fact, he survives just by eating a small portion of rice and scrambled eggs (or sunny side up; runny eggs are his favorite, especially when paired with fried rice with lots of garlic). He also likes canned tuna and sardines, and if we're not sure what to eat, the canned goods are our always go-to ulam. Now, I miss having him around because he would usually ask me for money so he could buy at a sari-sari store.

Late at night and I'm unable to sleep. My room is at the third floor, and there's a small window facing the road. The moon is completely out, and the street is completely empty except for the parking space. I grab a small seat, open the window, and let my head out to stare outside. I stare at the moon glowing through the night, and it's a beautiful sight. The moon covers the street and houses with its light. Everything is pretty quiet except for the crickets. I rest my head on my arm as I stare, feeling my heart swell because I just miss everyone back home so much.

But sacrifices have to be made.

And I just think of my brother and his future, and while it makes me feel a bit better, the loneliness is still there. I'm an introvert but I always want the people I love around me.

"Cannot sleep?" I jump out of my seat when a voice suddenly interrupts my thoughts. I frantically look anywhere until I see the culprit. Mikel chuckles. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to startle you."

Mikel is living in the house in front of us. He is in the same position I was in a few moments ago. I roll my eyes but laugh a few seconds later. We both stare at the moon for a bit, enjoying the beauty of it. Mikel turns to me.

"Let's walk?" he offers. I purse my lips and stare at the bed before turning to look at me and I nod my head. "See you there." He points at the road. I nod again.

I head downstairs and everyone is already asleep. When I'm outside, Mikel is already waiting on me by the road. He's wearing a white shirt, black shorts, and white sandals. There's a yellow smudge on his shirt that I don't dare ask. As soon as his eyes meet mine, a smile automatically grace my lips and he grins. Mikel motions to the road and I nod. He walks side by side with me.

There's silence between us. The sound of wind rustling merges with the crickets, and they stop when we pass before they continue again. I don't know where we're exactly going, but Mikel seems to know where we should go, so I'm basically following him. He has his hands in his pockets as he moves forward, his face straight. There's a deep look on his face. I can't really tell if there's something bugging him. Our feet take us to I don't know where, and from the corner of my eyes, I can see him casually glancing at me. He looks like he wants to say something but he shuts his mouth and stares ahead.

I'm back at the HOSTEL TARIFA where I initially felt like I was at lost the first time. We turn left and head straight. Mikel is not saying anything, and neither am I, though he looks like he wants to engage in a conversation with me.

This whole situation does not feel awkward. As a matter of fact, I find at least comfort as I walk with someone who I barely know. I only know his name, but Mikel is a complete mystery to me. And the weird thing is, he's easy to be around with. Just like Jorge.

But there's something Mikel that I can't quite explain. He looks like the typical bad guy I see in the movies yet he looks completely angelic. He seems straight out of a book where the authors usually describe their leading men as perfect, bad boy but has a golden heart, and one where they could steal the protagonist's breath away.

During the trip, I see CAFÉ AZUL in blue writing and remember Jorge. This is probably the restaurant he was referring to earlier. I take note of it as I walk straight. We cross the street and turn right, then head straight.

Good thing I'm used to walking.

There's a wall that looks like a castle, and on top of the arch entryway, there's a statement written on the wall in blue writings: MUY NOBLE MUY LEAL Y HEROICA CIUDAD DE TARIFA. I don't bother reading the others because they are small, and I have a poor eyesight. Also, I don't understand them.

The lampposts are turned on, giving light to the road. I still haven't said a word to him since he offered to take a walk with me. The truth is, I don't really know how to open a conversation, much less hold the conversation and keep it. Socializing for a longer time is my bane, and everyone knows that. But he doesn't, so I just follow him instead of asking where we really are going.

We pass a couple of closed establishments, and there are few people milling around. I hug myself as it's now getting colder a bit, and the wind gets a bit stronger as we continue to walk. It takes another 5 minutes until we reach the slightly curve road. There are a couple of cars parked there, and not once have I seen any trash around. Even a single piece of candy wrapper, I can't find.

"We're near," he says. I nod and keep up with him.

Mikel actually has long legs, so he's a fast walker. And I have to keep up with him every few seconds because my pace is slow. With my 5'5" height, everyone seems to be a fast walker. Unfortunately, I wasn't blessed to have longer legs like what Mikel has, so I have to always keep up with people whenever we go. We pass an empty playground and a restaurant called LA CERVERCERIA. Mikel notices my wandering eyes and chuckles. I turn to look at him and arch my brow.

When we reach another arch that has a PUERTO DE TARIFA on top, we turn right. This road is even more narrow compared to the ones we took. It's a one-way road. Then as we head straight, I begin to hear the gentle waves and I look at Mikel, who turns to look at me in return and has a huge smile on his face. My pace quickens and now, Mikel is the one that has to keep up with me.

The beach comes into view and it takes my breath away. It's small but it's definitely perfect.

"We're hear," Mikel announces as he enters the small entrance. "It's a public beach. Lots of people in the morning and noon, but no people around midnight. You like?"

I nod my head, huge grin tugged on my lips. I take off my slippers and feel the gentleness of the sand beneath my feet. I head straight over to the shore and Mikel follows suit. He takes off his sandals and submerge his feet in the water. I can see him shuddering for a bit before he settles in.

"You say me gusta if you like something," Mikel tells me. "¿Te gusta?"

"Me gusta," I agree.

"You don't talk a lot, yeah?"

I purse my lips and shake my head. "I only talk if someone talks to me. Introvert thing. Sometimes, anxiety. But I'm fine with it."

"You must have been dreaming always," Mikel catches me off guard. I turn to look at him with a confused expression.

"What do you mean?" I ask him.

"You don't talk a lot, which means you dream a lot." Mikel explains and stares at the ocean. The waves slowly submerging our feet before bits of sand get stuck on it. "In morning, in night, or everywhere."

"I do," I say without hesitation.

It's true. I'm always daydreaming, always imagining things that would never happen, always creating a reality where I'm different, where I'm always happy, where Alex doesn't need money assistance, or where my parents are still alive. It's easy to create fake scenarios and live in it for a few moments. It makes me feel alive and happy. At least for a moment. If I want to hug my parents, I would just dream.

"You carry a lot of problems, I see." Mikel continues.

"Yeah,"

"I can't always dream, but you know what helps me to forget and be happy for a while?" I shake my head. He grins. "I sing loud here."

Then he starts singing and for a moment, I get pretty scared because it's the middle of the night and people are probably sleeping. But then I notice that there's no house in sight, which means we're pretty safe. Mikel sings on top of his lungs, a Spanish song, that I don't understand. But he sings it with such passion.

"Dos galaxias en un viaje especial. ¡Arrastrados por la extraña fuerza del Big Bang!" Mikel practically shouts, and I laugh and listen to him. He jumps a bit, the wáter getting on my legs and shorts, and I back away a bit. "Separados un millón de años luz. Deja un agujero negro, ¿dónde estabas tú?"

He continues to sing and I just watch him, enjoying the performance. His shorts are now wet from jumping in the water, but he doesn't care. Once the performance is done, he takes a deep, long breath before exhaling.

"Mi cancion favorita." He tells me. "My favorite song. As your second lesson, listen to the song. It's called Big Bang by La La Love You. I share it to you later. And we sing that every time until you get the meaning, yeah?"

"Claro," I tell him.

"Pffttt, tío, hablas español." I roll my eyes playfully and he laughs. "I'm just joking."

We end up staying for another hour, and Mikel teaches me a few things. He does struggle a bit when speaking English, but he's mostly fine. He just mostly needs to speak with English speaker to hone his skills. He doesn't need major lessons.

Then we get home, and Mikel ends up sharing the YouTube link for the song he was singing earlier on the beach, which I later learned as la playa, which is the same as the Filipino word. Now I get the similarities between the two languages ­­– Filipino and Spanish.

"Thank you, Mikel. That did clear up my head."

"De nada," Mikel grins. "You're welcome."

Mikel waits for me to enter the house before he gets in his home, and once I'm back in my room, I immediately plug the earphones in my head and play the song he shared with me via Messenger. I stare out the window, and Mikel does the same thing. I show him my phone and he nods in approval, giving me thumbs up through the window. The moon glares as the song plays, and I bop my head to the tune. Then Mikel opens his mouth, and I can't hear anything, so I remove one earphone.

"Buenas noches. Good night!" Mikel says.

"¡Buenas noches!" I reply with a huge smile on my face. Mikel probably finds it weird, but he just laughs at me before he gets in and leaves me alone. I head to my bed while the song plays. I sigh in relief, loneliness gone, and shut my eyes.

Since the first time I've arrived, this is probably the best sleep I've had.