ACT FOUR

THE REBEL PAINTER

Something's missing.

I let out a shaky breath before I continued rummaging my bag for the umpteenth time, hoping for it to magically appear, but to no avail. Ilang beses ko nang inalis at ibinalik ang mga gamit sa bag pero hindi ko pa rin makita ang hinahanap ko. Refraining from getting the frustration in my head, I maneuvered my breaths. Sabi nga ni Mommy noon, gamitin ang mata sa paghahanap, hindi ang bibig. But it's so infuriating knowing that whatever I do, I couldn't find it anywhere!

Mabilis akong nagpunta sa tambak na mga tela sa sulok ng kwarto at may pag-iingat na inalis ang mga nakarolyo roon. Delving my body and my hands towards its depth, I am left to be sorrowful of its negativity. Wala roon!

Pumamewang ako at kinagat ang labi. Inikot ko ng tingin ang kabuoan ng kwarto at sinuri ang bawat sulok at lalagyan na pwede kong lagyan. I am sure that I brought it anywhere I go. This locked room isn't safe that's why I kept on bringing it with me. Mayroon at mayroong tao ang makapagbubukas nito kaya hindi ako mapakaling iwanan iyon dito. But now that it's missing? I realized that I should have left it here!

I can't fathom it—missing something precious given by someone dear. Hindi ako titigil sa pag-iikot sa kwarto hangga't hindi nahahanap ang singsing! I know I gave up my dear passion but this promise ring is very important to me. My father gave this to me in hopes that I would continue my dreams. Now that I've lost it, should I accept that I'll completely hand over my fate to my regrets?

I closed my eyes to serenade my stressful brain activity with Tchaikovsky's Waltz of the Flowers, a piece of orchestral music that is, sadly, familiar to me. Played during the second act of The Nutcracker, I can't help being sad. No matter how I started to fear ballet, my fragments wouldn't disregard and will keep on appreciating the depth of classical music. The mellow notes as it fills the air touched my system, recuperating the pressure I imposed on myself. The sweet serenade of the orchestra brought me to a realm of sadness and bliss. That once upon a time, a little girl named Lavien Rosette once dreamed and danced to be a ballerina.

I smiled bitterly when I remembered someone telling me a quote from Friedrich Nietzsche, "Without music, life would be a mistake.". Its birth sauntered ways for artists to reign over their yearning for grief inkling towards supreme consciousness for their art, and then the lineage of classics begins. The once bland days of regrets turned to splendid days of esteem and emphasis on passion and joy.

Naiinis sa kawalan ng singsing, ipinasok ko ang mga gamit sa loob ng bag. I must've dropped that ring somewhere, didn't I? Kung oo, saan? What is the last place that I went to? Sa dami ng ginagawa, hindi ko na alam kung saan 'yon posibleng malaglag! Of all things proper, why did I disregard its reason for its existence—the clothing of the finger? If only I wasn't too adamant of letting go, I should've known better! Dapat ginawa ko na lang na necklace at hindi keychain.

May mga beses talaga na tumitigas ang ulo ko, at hindi katuwa-tuwa 'yon.

Thinking that the four-walled room would be happy about putting tension on my frustration instead of being productive, I left its confinement. Bumaba ako mula sa palapag ng kwarto patungo sa main lobby ng recreation hall. Suite le Passion, as they call it. I exited the lift with so much confusion in my mind—on thoughts of its disappearance and on places it could possibly be dropped. May nabunggo ba 'ko? Baka nahulog ko sa field! Hindi na rin gaanong matibay ang keychain no'n dahil matagal ko nang ginagamit at ilang beses na ring nasisira. Paulit-ulit ko nga lang na inaayos.

Parang nagningning ang mata ko nang makapasok sa loob ng hall. I love how this school molded this hall into perfection. The French-inspired interior starting with the luxurious sconce, the curves that are famous, down to the walls, the floors, and the aristocratic chairs... I can't help sighing as I plopped myself on the luxurious white cushion chair. The paintings of a period I didn't know greeted me when I checked out the high ceiling. The white crystal lights bundled inside the circular indent gave refreshment.

The luxurious white theme of the hall spiked my creativity. Its purity reminded me of a certain culture with long dresses and shawls to cover their faces.

I drew two croquis—the front and the back. A two-piece attire for women slightly drawing between the edges of formal attire and an attendee to a royal party. A straight neckline with its sleeves ending before the model's wrist. Ang laylayan ng damit ay imbes na garterized ay maluwag at maporma, sinisimbolo ang alon ng aristokratikong buhok. I partnered it with slacks of the same color—luxurious ivory white.

Hindi ako nakuntento sa kasimplehan ng pantaas kaya ibinaba ko pa ang likod hanggang sa may paa. Restricted yet elegant are the curves of the edges of the shirt. I added gold embroidery on the top and at the back.

Nang matapos ang sketch ay napangiti ako sa sarili. It looks so aristocratic and royal. The gold embellishment did its job. The next thing that I'd need is the type of fabric I'll be using. Natutuwa muli akong nag-sketch sa panibagong papel.

I should be staying here more often even though there's that 'p' word in its name. I should be the one adjusting with that, not them. Nakigagamit lang ako at hindi dapat ako umangal. I know my place. I know where I stand. Besides, I was the one who gave this to me so I should respect what they're going to provide. I know too well to be disrespected and I don't like that feeling.

I'm lucky enough to be respected.

Wala akong klase ngayong araw. May pinagagawang activities pero natapos ko na ang mga 'yon. Discipline and productivity—it helps people to be successful. If one knows to handle and control themselves, there's a big chance that they'll be reaping multitudes of benediction upon such restraint and self-control. Subduing those negativities and putting the mind into the right track helps one to be molded into a proper person who knows how to be polite.

Politeness, a lexicon that I've been practicing since then. Ballet taught me a lot more than I could ever know so I should be thankful for that. Hindi 'yung ganito na magmumukmok ako sa gilid. Ang magiging resulta? Kabagsakan. This is a step towards maturity, you need to remember that. To be eager, you need to find the positivity even though the negatives would clawback.

Pagkatapos mag-lunch, bumalik muli ako sa recreation hall. Kakaonti pa lang din ang mga estudyante. I'm sure the painters are busying themselves on practicing their craft at their own painting room, the ones that are named after famous painters. Mapupuntahan ko rin naman 'yon sa susunod dahil kumuha ako ng special course tungkol sa pagpipinta. Until then, I would be indulging myself in this direction that I'm trying to like.

Nang itinaas ko ang tingin ay napunta ang atensyon ko patungo sa malaking flatscreen na TV. Its edges aren't noticeable because the device looks like it's molded into the wall. Like a flat surface or a plane.

My hands paused its activity as I let my ears do its work—listening to the very controversial news.

"Nasa'n yung remote? Ang hina-hina!" reklamo ng isa sa tatlong estudyante na pintor yata.

"Sa gilid, tanungin mo sa staff!"

"Ikaw na maghanap. Dalian mo!"

Kinunot ko ang noo dahil sa pagiging balisa nila. When a painting from the artist appeared on the screen, my confusion disappeared. Kaya naman pala napaka-interesado sila tungkol do'n, pintor naman pala ang pinag-uusapan.

"Sabi ni Mama, may Asembliya raw na ginawa para kay RAN."

Their conversation started.

Hindi ko pa nailalapat muli ang tulis ng mechanical pencil sa magaspang na materyal ay may umokupa ng upuang kaharap ko. He grinned at me with his quite friendly yet dark smile. His messy hair is a mixture of dark blonde and brown. Inayos niya ang magulong buhok sa pormang hindi ko maintindihan. Ang ilang bahid ng pintura sa medyo maputi niyang balat ay halata dahil mukhang katatamo lang. When he scrunched his pointed nose with a swish of a peachy color, he smiled at me, again. Naguguluhan ko siyang tiningnan.

His thick, dark brows perked, jolting into a question. Kinunotan ko siya ng noo at ibinaling ang tingin sa TV. Ang tatlong pintor na estudyante ay nakapalibot na roon habang pinapanood ang news tungkol sa mahal nilang pintor.

Am I going to be like them once I finally attended the extra course?

"Ah, si RAN. Kilala mo?"

My attention shifted to him. I shrugged before sketching. Narinig ko ang marahan niyang halakhak kasabay ng pagsuklay ng buhok patalikod. Marahang nahulog ang hibla sa sariling porma.

"Come on, Miss Fashion Designer! Ang sungit-sungit mo. You don't remember me?"

Inilipat ko muli ang tingin sa kan'ya. "A little."

I don't want to make friends. I don't want anything deeper than that. Okay na ako sa acquaintance lang. The last time I had a friend, I pushed them away. I'm lucky enough that I'm not stumbling upon them here. What are their courses, again?

"Gan'yan ba talaga kayo? Snob? Do you want coffee? Baka bumait ka lang."

"What?" I spat. I immediately regretted it because it doesn't sound polite. "I mean, I'm kind. I'm not just..."

Kumibitbalikat muli ako at tumitig sa sketch. Kunyari ay naghuhulma ng linya.

"Table para sa apat na tao 'to. Tingin ko kailangan mo ng kasama."

"I'm fine with my sketchbook. Thanks."

Humalakhak muli siya. "Balik tayo sa topic. Kilala mo si RAN? I guess not. Ano ba 'yan, ako rin sumagot sa tanong ko."

Who is he again? I really, really forgot his name.

"Who are you again?"

He seemed offended! Inilapat pa niya ang kamay sa dibdib at umaktong nasasaktan. I immediately rethink what I did before I came up with an apology.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend-"

Natatawa siyang umiling. Seriously, am I funny? He keeps on chuckling.

"I'm Atlas! Sa Raison? God, you have a terrible memory."

Oh, the guy who's giving me a bundle of information that I don't need. Am I supposed to remember persons of no impact? When I was young, Tita Alessandra taught me that I should not forget the names of those important persons. Natatandaan ko lang ang pangalan nila kapag may ginawa silang kamangha-mangha. I guess I should really change my attitude. Not everyone would bow down to me. I need to respect their presence.

"Okay, you're Atlas. Sige, tatandaan ko," I said, speaking to myself. Yet he laughed again.

"Gano'n ba 'ko kawalang-kwenta sa mundong 'to? Shit, salamat sa pagsasampal. Kailangang-kailangan ko 'yan."

Tumitig lang ako. I don't know what to react because I haven't held lengthy, slightly-personal conversations like this. My usual conversations start with questions regarding common interests before ending for a minute or so because I immediately dismiss them. I don't like taking personal questions, either. Baka maka-offend ako. I don't want that because I am trying my best to respect them.

Now, this guy's here. Plano ba niyang mag-ubos ng oras sa harapan ko? If I wasn't a polite person, I would've left him here, but I am, so I stayed. Hindi maganda sa pakiramdam ang mabastos.

The three painter students started to fight over something. Naagaw muli nila ang atensyon ko. Nawala na pala ang palabas ng mahal nilang pintor sa TV.

"Curious na curious ka kay RAN, 'no? Bakit? Plano mo rin bang mag-rebolusyon?" he asked, his eyes became pools of confusion.

"Revolution? No. What made you say that?"

Nagulat siya sa tanong ko. Parang may higpit pa siyang pinakawalan bago bumalik sa pagkaaliwalas ang mukha. There's something in his eyes that revealed sadness.

He let out a sigh. "RAN's known to be a rebel painter. Hindi mo ba talaga alam? Kalat 'yon noon. He rebelled against the government."

My cellphone buzzed on the table. A notification from the Hierarchy Lounge waved to my screen. With a subject of 'Contemporary Arts' and content of: 'Study the rebel painter, RAN, and his influence', I am determined to listen.

"How did he rebel against the government? Through his paintings?" I snickered at the end.

Nagulat ako nang seryoso siyang tumango. Napakurap ako sa narinig.

"He really did that?!" I tried my voice to be hushed. I don't want to offend anyone even though I already offended him with my previous question!

"Oo, it's years back then. May ginawa pang Assembly para sa paintings ni RAN. It's quite lengthy for an assembly name but acronyms exist. Nakalimutan ko nga lang. Haven't heard of his name since then," he said as if he was recalling something deep.

Someone could cause a revolution through paintings? Parang hindi ako makapaniwala sa narinig.

"Talaga ba?" medyo natatawa kong sabi. "That's not possible."

He rose his brow competitively. "But he did."

Napasandal ako sa inuupuan at napabuntong-hininga. Do painters really have this thing revolving around them? They are too idealistic. Ang lawak-lawak ng imaginations nila. That must be the reason why they make those things.

He crossed his arms, showing off another swatch on its edges. Are they really this messy? Will I get that messy? It's not pleasing to the eyes. The imperfection creeps me out.

His eyes followed my gaze towards his arms. Inilipat niya rin ang tingin do'n bago alisin ang pagkakakrus. He tilted his arm to a degree where the swatch is visible before he let out a series of complaints. Later on, he shrugged and returned to his comfortable position. His stare lingered at me, weighed for a second before he broke into a smile.

"You must be kidding me," hindi niya makapaniwalang sabi. "Hindi ka naniniwala sa pinagsasabi ko? Am I that unbelievable? I swear that's possible! Kung gusto mo ng detalyeng hindi nakukuha sa internet, sa Hierarchy ka maghanap."

What's his point?

"I'm not fighting or anything... sinasabi ko lang na-"

"Na hindi kapani-paniwala? It is. That's what I thought then, but I saw it through a perspective."

"A perspective of what?" I asked, curious and hooked on what he could bring.

He leaned towards me; his face linked with features similar to Odile's darkness. The grimness he featured in his mysterious personality astonished me. What could he bring? What could he give me? What impact would he leave?

"A perspective of someone on the same field." He leaned back before standing up. "Sorry, Miss FD. Talking about that's too controversial. Ayokong ma-guidance." His eyes discreetly gesturing that there was someone listening.

Umayos ako ng pagkakaupo at pinigilan ang sarili na iikot ang tingin sa paligid. Who's going to listen? Those three painters? I'm sure that they know things about it considering that they're painters. Ano ang mali ro'n?

He saw the confusion on my eyes, the reason why he tore his lips into a sinister grin. "RCA's inflicted, Miss. Kapag nalaman nilang gumagawa ka ng hakbang para kalabanin ang pamahalaan, they'll escort you to the wolves."

Suminghap ako. "Why is that? What's wrong with having an art school?" I whispered afraid someone would hear—if there really is someone out there, listening.

He snapped his fingers; snapped me away from reverie. Tinuro niya ang utak at nilawakan pa ang ngisi. "Remember, this school is being watched by the government." Kumindat siya bago maaliwalas na umalis.

Why am I going to believe him, anyway? Right, for my grades. Sana nga lang ay totoo ang sinasabi niya.

The next day, we were given another project for the practice of handling complicated materials.

Tahimik akong nakaupo sa palaging pwesto—malapit sa bintana—habang nakikinig sa sinasabi ng Head Designer, one of the few who are working at a couture house. Being an instructor is their past time because this is one of the places where they breed in-demand fashion designers.

I hope I could last until then.

"Today, you are going to create templates and learn how to sew a tulle, the fabric that's commonly used in ballet costumes. It's one of the hardest because its volume and thickness determine the effort you're going to exert in..."

I felt my chest constricting. Hindi ko na narinig ang sunod na sasabihin dahil tumigil na sa pag-baballet.

This is what I'm waiting for—the creation of costumes on the passion that I used to take. This is what I want, right—to make art for my previous craft? Then, why do I hear protests inside of me? That it doesn't want this anymore? But I was yearning for this back then... Or maybe this is envy because I'm not going to wear this for a show. Na yung dating sinusukat sa 'kin ay ako ang magsusuot, ngayon, ako na ang maglalapat ng measurements at sila ang magsusuot.

The fabric that I dreaded that I hopelessly input on some of my works when needed is starting to kill me. I don't like this one bit. I am hating this feeling. I should be happy about this! Finally, I'll be touching a step towards my sunken love.

Right, I need this. Pakawawalan ko na 'to.

The next days are spent on learning how to build templates and learn the common sew on ballerina costumes. We did a lot of fabric sourcing outside at The Cushion, an art bar for the students. Maraming mga art supplies na binebenta para sa apat na course na ino-offer ng school. The materials are of high quality considering its price. There are also wide varieties and brands, the reason why there's no need to go outside. Pero pwede namang lumabas, kailangan lang ng pass at sisiguraduhing babalik kaagad.

Or else, guidance.

I attended the Contemporary Arts with basic knowledge from RAN. According to Atlas, I should search for information at the Hierarchy. There were specks of information but they were all basic—the same thoughts that the instructor taught. Yet he said that I should search for deeper information at this school's portal? Matino ba talaga kausap si Atlas? Who is he anyway? All I know that he's a painter, nothing else. Bakit ako magpapauto sa taong walang kredibilidad?

My routines were mundane and it doesn't include on visiting that forbidden tree. I was a little happy because I could feel that I'm staying away from it, though I constantly yearn. I need to do this, I told myself, for my family. Above all, my dear ones would rank over my passion. They were the reason that I'm here. An act of a little sacrifice won't hurt.

At some point, I'd find this course frustrating. May mga araw na nagmumukmok ako dahil wala akong ma-sketch sa sketchbook na malapit nang mapuno. Kahit naghahanap ako ng inspirasyon sa paligid, walang lumalapit. It always ends up with the sight of the slow construction of hideous groups at a specific spot somewhere. Tuwing napadaraan ako ro'n, padagdag sila nang padagdag. I shouldn't be bothered by it but I can't help it. They're becoming a part of my routine, which I hate. They're bestowing their impact on me while I adhere to righteousness and policy. That we shouldn't rebel against things that hold us yet there they are, fixing their agenda for their make-believe truths.

The truth of all things is in the end, they said. I constantly believe that. Why would you rebel when you could just be disciplined and respect their choices? What would you feel if you were to be disrespected? That's my mantra since then. Righteousness. Adherence to policy. Discipline. Politeness. There's nothing wrong with disrespecting their beliefs, but there's something wrong when they're disrespecting their personality.

Why would you throw hate on someone who's just being themselves? Aren't you a hypocrite, at that? You're fighting over some personality that that person grew a hold of?

Tuwing bumabalik ako sa hall—expecting to see Atlas—natutunganga na lang ako tuwing paulit-ulit na pine-play ang documentary tungkol kay RAN. I couldn't get any new, impactful information so I serenade myself with Tchaikovsky, Stravinsky, and Beethoven.

Respecting what they want to make the world a better place, at least.

Humalumbaba ako habang hinihintay ang sunod na klase. My next two hours are free again. I can't confine myself in my room because the frustration on searching for my ring keeps on pondering in my mind. Hanggang ngayon, hindi ko pa rin mahanap! Hindi ko na tanda kung saan ko nailaglag. I badly want to cry out of frustration but what would it help? It would help me look like a distressed woman, I guess. Hindi ko mapigilang mapa-irap.

Without thinking twice, I stood up. Pupunta ako ng Pavlova para tingnan ang costumes nila. The Head said that the ballerinas would be practicing in their costumes at the room, though I don't get it why aren't they practicing at the Pointes Auditorium where in fact it is built for the ballerinas.

Nanginginig ang mga tuhod ay inilaan ko ang oras at distansiya para kumbinsihin ang sarili. I bargained to myself on how I should act and treat this visit as an inquiry to fabrics and sews. Nothing more, nothing less.

Nahagip muli ng tingin ko ang kumpol ng mga estudyante na malapit sa mga puno. They are covering something with their body, the reason why I can't see what they're working on.

Baka naman gumagawa lang ng requirements.

With a shrug, I left them there. I didn't want to bother because, as what I have practiced, respect.

Nostalgia seeped upon me when the wind blew strands of my hair, allowing it to gather force with the wind. Ang malumanay na paglabas ng tunog mula sa Pavlova ang napatigil sa 'kin. If I'm going to take a step forward—just a heart closer—what would change? Would I change? Will I change? This is for your grades, Lavien. Do it. Respect your family. Respect for the dear love they gave.

Respect yourself.

With a heavy sigh and my discipline that slightly disagreed with my make-believe reason, I lifted my feet to head towards the forbidden tree. Odile's coda grew louder as I approached the heart of the forbidden fruit. My steps were filled with bereavement from the path I once trod. My heart clenched when I saw her perfect arabesque.

Now that they're performing fouetté in front of me—the last move I practiced—it unraveled memories stored from my forsaken past.

I was like that. Little Prima Ballerina Lavien Rosette was like that—perfect, graceful, elegant. She got the poise, the form, the dedication, and lastly, the passion needed to perform acts at such level—unnerved by the judging stares, the void air, and the silence. Until the silence ended with claps from their satisfied faces.

Those times were the best where every single thing is in place—where everything is righteous. No one was disrespected. No one was outraged by the loss of discipline. No waves of regrets. No yearning for the lost passion. There was excellence. What mattered back then is the form and the grace. Plié, and plié, and plié. Stretch your legs. Point your feet. Move your arms like the swan. Make sure that you're moving your shoulders, too.

I could only sigh.

"Here, a handkerchief."

Nahigit ko ang hininga at pasimpleng pinanlakihan ng mata ang napakapurong tela na nasa harapan ko. Extended by a clean slate of muscular hands inching towards an arm molded by resistance, branching into his body until my eyes reached his serious yet curious face.

It's that guy again—the same guy who caught me peeking last time. His dark golden-brown hair is tousled in arrays of glamour and elegance. The gold specks of dust on his face made him breathtaking. The dark brows and thick, long lashes framed his adherence to solemn thoughts.

His eyes stared straight to mine as if he's searching for something. There was a bundle of thoughts in his eyes but those were held captive by ideas.

Sa pangalawang beses na nakita ko siya, ngayon ko lang napansin ang kaseryosohan ng mukha. Though he has this weird enmity that I can't lay my finger on, I was sure that there is something peculiar in the way he carries himself.

Worship me.

Yet he's humble.

"I saw you again," he said, quite hopeful. Nagulat ako sa tonong ipinarinig niya. I didn't expect it coming from him.

I am a mum. I can't remove my attention towards the mood that he's carrying. Parang katulad ng dati kung saan hindi ako makagalaw sa ilalim ng titig niya.

"Ngayon, hindi ka na sumasayaw. You're peeking now."

Napalunok ako dahil sa tanong niya. I knew that I hated carrying personal questions in conversations that would be detrimental. I didn't want to be vulnerable yet I felt that he could be of the great chest. That he's eager to know what happened. The sense of familiarity made me shiver.

What is he doing?

He let out a sigh—an action he found hard to do so—before grabbing my hand and laying down his handkerchief in the softest way possible. Napalunok muli ako, ang tingin ay naroon. Hindi ko maintindihan kung bakit may naramdaman akong kakaiba nang mawala ang marahan ngunit mainit niyang kamay.

"I guess we're not yet friends, huh?" tanong niya at isinuksok ang kamay sa magkabilang bulsa ng pantalon.

I marveled my gaze over his face—a face that created an impact in a short matter of time. Nanindig ang balahibo ko nang itinagilid niya ang ulo. With this, I should feel judged—mocked—because that's what he made me feel at first. Sa oras na hindi ko pa pinapansin ang kabuoan niya. Now that he's here in front of me, maybe that was just his way of speaking—his demeanor. That no matter what he's doing, he's being himself.

And he reeks of the word that I didn't like.

Someone shouted a name from a distance. Napalingon doon ang lalakeng titig na titig sa 'kin bago siya nagpakawala ng maliit na ngiti. When he waved a small acknowledgment of departure, his smile didn't reach his lips. Is he going to say that he has plans to listen?

Without clues and without bargaining with the deceit I created, I stared at the seemingly-holy handkerchief he gave me. No names. No brand. Just a plain, immaculate handkerchief with three embroidered gold strips.