Chapter Text
“I’m lost in admiration
Could I need you this much?
Oh, you’re just wasting my time
You’re just, just, just wasting my time.”
- Tears For Fears, Dave Bascombe
“Oh, sorry, may kausap ka?” Alden asked, his voice soft, almost hesitant. He gestured toward his water bottle, and the subtle shift in his demeanor didn’t go unnoticed. She could feel it—the way he lingered, like he was waiting for something, for her to say something. She tried to smile, a small, fleeting expression that didn’t reach her eyes.
“It’s fine,” Kath said, quickly, hoping he wouldn’t press further. “I just got off a call.” But there was something in her voice, something that didn’t quite match the nonchalance she was trying to project.
It was late on a Sunday, and she was exhausted. The phone call had left a weight on her chest, but she wasn’t ready to talk about it—not with him, not with anyone. She had her own things to sort through. But of course, he noticed.
“Okay ka lang?” he asked, his voice tinged with something that made her heart skip just slightly. It wasn’t the typical casual concern; it was something more. Something deeper.
“Yeah, yeah, may something lang back home,” The words were rushed, the meaning hidden behind a curtain of vague indifference. But Alden saw through it, his brows furrowing, the worry creeping into his chest despite his attempt to keep it at bay.
She noticed the change in his expression, and quickly added, “Don’t worry, it’s no big deal.” But he could see the way her shoulders were tense, the subtle shift in her eyes. She wasn’t fine. She wasn’t anywhere close.
Her attempt at lightness, at changing the topic, wasn’t enough. It went to her asking Alden if he and Joross already finished playing but he said he had to shoot some more scenes thus his time at work was extended and left Joross sleeping on the couch waiting for him.
“Try mo kaya din matulog! Every time I see you, laging kang ML!” Kath emphasized the last word with a teasing yet somehow with a hint of annoyance. It was a playful jab, but there was a softness in it too, like she was trying to make him laugh, trying to ease the tension in the air. But when his laugh came, it felt a little too forced. There was an edge to his voice that made her wonder if he was seeing through her, if he knew that it wasn’t just the game keeping him awake.
“Haha, eh yun ang entertainment natin ngayon,” he said, his voice casual, but there was a flicker of something else there. She couldn’t quite place it, but it made her heart thump a little harder in her chest.
Then came the question, light, almost teasing, but there was something in it that felt too intimate. “No person waiting back home? Haha.”
The words hung between them, and for a moment, she hesitated. Her mind raced, trying to find a way out of the sudden sharpness of the conversation. But there was no escaping him. Not now.
“Wala, wala, haha. Ang dad ko lang, and occasionally si Riza and Angel lang textmates haha,” he said, too quickly, as if trying to make it sound like nothing at all. But she saw through the facade, just as he saw through hers.
Kath’s eyes narrowed playfully, though the spark of mischief in her gaze was tinged with something else, something softer.
“Hmm, MA-niwala ako sayo, haha.” She didn’t want to press, but she could feel it—there was something there, something he wasn’t saying.
Alden tried to laugh it off, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Na ano? Wala nga haha. Work lang tayo ngayon nakafocus.”
She smiled, but her smile faltered when she saw the way his gaze lingered, a little too serious for the moment. It wasn’t just a casual conversation anymore. She could feel the shift, like he was testing her. Like he was waiting for her to break.
“Kahit nililigawan???” she teased, hoping to divert his attention, but the words slipped from her mouth before she could stop them.
He blinked, the surprise flickering in his eyes, and for a split second, she swore she saw something—something vulnerable there. A flash of uncertainty. It was gone in an instant, but it left her wondering if she had crossed a line.
“Hmmm, wala?? Hahaha,” he said, too quickly, too dismissive. But she wasn’t fooled.
She leaned in, watching his face carefully. “Okay, judging by that response, you’re definitely lying, haha.”
His eyes flickered away from hers for a moment, his guard coming up just a fraction, but she caught it. She always caught it.
“Wala nga! Parang wala naman??? Well—” he trailed off, a nervous laugh escaping his lips, but it wasn’t enough to hide the tension in his voice.
The air between them thickened, and she could feel it, the way the conversation had turned, the way she was cornering without even realizing it. He could see the way she was waiting, waiting for him to spill something—anything—that might hint at something more.
“Well, what?????!!! Parang hmm, may iba akong stories na naririnig eh,” she said, trying to stay light, but it wasn’t as easy now. There was something in his eyes that made her nervous. He was looking at her like he could see through all the walls she’d built, and it made her want to look away.
“Ano-ano? Haha,” he glanced down at her, holding her gaze a little too long. His chest tightened, and it felt like there was no way out. The space between them seemed to shrink, and in that moment, it was all too clear how much he was holding back. But then, she blinked, snapping out of it, as if realizing what she was doing. She knew where this was going. Knew that she had no choice but to keep playing this game of cat and mouse, even if it was slowly suffocating her.
But before she could say anything else, he cut her off, his voice sharp with sudden urgency. “No, never happened.”
She looked at him, wide-eyed. “Wait, si ano ba minimean mo? What do you mean, never happened? I mean, what happened?” The question slipped from her lips before she could stop it, and this time, she felt her chest tighten with a kind of nervous anticipation. She could feel herself leaning forward, wanting him to open up, to finally say what had been unsaid for so long. Alden felt like he was being exposed, like there was no hiding from her anymore.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me. Omg, sorry matanong ako huhu.” She didn’t know why she was apologizing. It wasn’t like she had done anything wrong. But she felt this nagging sense of unease, like she was asking for too much. Like she was pushing him too far.
He met her gaze for a moment, his eyes darkening, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply shrugged. “No, no, it’s fine,” he said, his voice too soft. “We just liked each other at different times, I guess. So, it didn’t work out in the end.”
She looked away, unable to meet his eye, her eyes softened, looking at the city lights that stretched out before them. They were on the balcony of the kitchen, the hum of the city fading into the background as they stood in silence. She felt like she was drowning in the weight of his words, the finality of them. And for a moment, she wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t sure if it mattered anymore.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, almost without thinking. But she wasn’t sure who she was apologizing to.
I met her gaze and told her not to worry. I wasn’t affected like I used to be. I didn’t ask her what the earlier phone call was about because, unlike my situation, hers seemed heavier.
He had never been one to share much about his past, but somehow, in her presence, the words came effortlessly. It was as though, with every passing moment, the walls he’d carefully constructed around himself crumbled. She was a stranger, yet there was something in her that made him want to be seen, to reveal himself in ways he hadn’t even realized he could. In her laughter, in her smile, in the way she listened, he found the quiet assurance that made it possible to be open in a way that was both startling and, perhaps, dangerous.
Between takes, when they’d joke around or laugh over trivial things, he noticed how the atmosphere between them began to shift. What was initially awkward became surprisingly comfortable. Their banter, light and free, was more infectious than he’d anticipated. She was funny—genuinely funny—and it took him by surprise how quickly he found himself drawn to her sense of humor. Their conversations were quick, witty, and just a little too loud for the director’s liking. Still, he couldn’t help himself. The laughter seemed to come naturally, almost like a rhythm he didn’t want to stop.
One day, while he and the guys—Jorross and Jeff—were wandering the streets, something caught his eye. A food stall selling sticky rice. The memory of her voice, soft with longing, talking about how she’d wanted to try it but never had the chance, flashed in his mind. The idea of getting it for her, of surprising her, overwhelmed him.
Without thinking, he bought the sticky rice, feeling something stir inside him—a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. As he approached the crew back at the shoot, he spotted her. He was suddenly painfully aware of his own anticipation as he held out the box.
Her eyes lit up the moment she saw it. “Oh my god, bumili ka???!!! Libre mo??” she asked, her voice a perfect blend of surprise and delight.
He nodded, feeling a nervous smile tug at his lips. “Oo haha. May nadaanan kasi kami kagabi nila Joross and naalala ko diba parang namention mo yun ng isang araw?”
Behind him, Jeff’s smirk could have pierced through him. He shot Jeff a look, but the damage was already done. Jeff knew exactly what had driven him to make the impulsive purchase, and no matter how much he tried to hide it, his friend’s teasing was a reminder of something he’d rather not acknowledge.
“Pumili ka na dyan Kath kasi rated PG na sila dito, kanina pa dapat lunch break eh hahaha.” Jeff added in.
She laughed, a bright sound that rang in his ears. “Thank you!!! Ang tagal ko na tong sinasabi kila Ga!”
“Rinig ko nga.” He tried to sound casual, though inside, his heart was thudding too loudly. His gaze faltered as he met her eyes, and suddenly, he couldn’t understand why he felt so anxious. Was this really about the sticky rice? Or was it something else entirely?
“Hahaha, thank you again! Gusto mo?” she asked, holding out the box with a piece of sticky rice already in her mouth.
The offer should have felt innocent, but it seemed to weigh heavily on him. He hesitated, feeling the sharp sting of wanting something he couldn’t have. “Kaka-kain ko lang eh, besides nasa restrictive diet pa ako ni Cathy Garcia Molina,” he said, his words teasing earning him her laugh. It remained, infectious and genuine, and the ache in his chest only grew.
He watched as she was called away to film her scene, still clutching the box of sticky rice like a child with a precious gift. The joy in her was almost unbearable, and as she waved goodbye, he couldn’t help but feel the deep, gnawing emptiness of knowing he’d never be the one to receive that same kind of affection in return.
As she walked off, he heard Jeff approach, already with that knowing smirk on his face.
“Hmmm…”
“Tigilan mo ko Jeff Tam,” he said, his voice tight, though he knew exactly what was coming.
“Talaga ba Den, eh niyaya mo nga kami dun kanina, ang sarap na ng tulog ko tapos nadaanan mo lang pala??? Wow, dami mo na palang secrets ngayon. Ikaw na lang kaya mag magician??”
“Loko!!!”
But Jeff’s grin only widened, the unspoken truth hanging heavily between them. He had no illusions. He had overheard the same conversations, had seen the way he looked at her, the way he tried so hard to mask the truth of what he felt.
Seeing her face light up at the sticky rice made the little lie worth it. It was a small thing, but it felt monumental. His chest ached with something that he couldn’t quite name, something that was just on the edge of being too much to bear. She would never know. He couldn’t tell her. But as he watched her walk away, all he could think was that every little moment—every little gift, every small act—was all he’d ever have of her. And it would have to be enough. Even if it wasn’t.
In the final week of shooting in Hong Kong, before they would head home, Alden felt an odd blend of excitement and quiet sorrow. The thought of returning, of leaving this place behind, tugged at him in ways he didn’t quite understand, and there was a growing ache in his chest he couldn’t shake.
Kath appeared, as if on cue, with her usual burst of energy. Her voice rang through the hotel room as she entered, a brightness that filled the space, chasing away the stillness.
“Uy, Alden!” she called, a smile wide and genuine as she approached him. He looked up from the pile of clothes he was sorting, trying to seem unaffected, though inside, something shifted.
“Kath, ano atin?” he responded, trying to sound casual, but his heart raced, as if her presence alone stirred something he wasn’t prepared to face.
“Galing kaming gym and spa, alam mo ba hahahaha,” she blurted out, almost tripping over her words as her laughter bubbled up. “Nakakatawa sila Kakai and Ga, haha!” She beamed, glowing with the excitement of a story she was eager to share, her joy lighting up the room in a way that left Alden feeling strangely out of place.
He tried to maintain his composure, his voice steady as he asked, “Haha, ano mga activities nyo dun?” A simple question, but it carried none of the curiosity he felt. Inside, he was spiraling, caught in the warmth of her happiness while a quiet yearning knotted in his chest.
“Just usual gym stuff: treadmill, biking, a couple of push-ups. I’m really glad na na-convince ko sila to join me. Akala ko hihilahin ko pa eh!” She laughed, her enthusiasm filling the air, leaving him feeling distant. She had this way of making everything sound so light, so carefree, while Alden could only look on, longing for something he could never quite reach.
“That’s awesome!” he replied, forcing a smile, but the warmth in his chest felt far from genuine. He already knew about their little adventure—the way Ga had come to him earlier asking for cash, the way Kath had convinced them to go. Alden had given them the money, but the truth was, he wasn’t sure why Kath seemed upset. He had a hunch, though he wasn’t ready to admit it to himself.
“Mabuti yun may good time kayo,” he said, his voice a little more strained than he intended, but he couldn’t help it. He just wanted to keep the conversation going, to pretend everything was fine.
“Wow, nag-eempake ka na?” she asked, her head tilting slightly, noticing the state of his room.
“Ah, oo. Mauuna na sila Mama Ten and di ko na need yung ibang gamit na to so ipapadala ko na lang sa kanila. Ikaw ba? All set ka na?” He tried to sound unaffected, but the words felt hollow.
“Oh, nope, baka gawin ko rin yan pero later pa hahaha. Di ko talaga kaya ginagawa mo master. Organised to a T!” She laughed again, the sound of it somehow more painful than before. Her smile was radiant, almost blinding, and Alden found himself lost in it, wishing for a moment, just a moment, that it could be for him.
“Balik na ako sa room namin. Bye… Rick.”
The name hit him like a cold gust of wind, unexpected and jarring. Rick. No one had ever called him that. Not like that.
“Rick? Haha. Ano yun?” he asked, his voice faltering, his mind racing as he tried to play it off with a laugh. But inside, everything froze. What had just happened?
“Duhh, Richard sa Richard Faulkerson Jr??? Sooo, Rick na lang para mas maikli kaysa Alden. Hahaha.”
She was oblivious, lost in her own world, and Alden, though he tried to hold back his own laugh, failed miserably. It was just like her—random, spontaneous, and utterly disarming.
“Edi Cha na lang din short for Chandria?” he teased, but it felt forced, a weak attempt to keep the mood light. Inside, his heart twisted at the thought of her name—how it didn’t fit him, just as he didn’t fit in her world.
“Haha, ang baduy please lang hahaha,” she giggled, the sound of it somehow making everything worse.
With that, she turned and left, her laughter lingering in the air, leaving Alden standing there in the silence.
Journal entry #46
Friday, April 18, 2019
It’s strange, how a single moment can unlock something I didn’t even realize was there. Today, as she spoke, everything else faded into the background—like her voice was the only thing that mattered. "I guess I was the only one who remembered! We were at the Yahoo awards night, right? To be fair, we were just kids back then—maybe 7 or 8 years ago? Time really flies!"
I tried to laugh it off, but my mind felt distant. "7 or 8 years ago? So, like, 2011? I remember the event, but I don’t recall meeting you at all," I said, unsure if I even meant it. Why did it feel so… off?
Her face flickered with surprise, followed by something else—disappointment, maybe? But she smiled anyway. “Ohh, you really forgot!!! Bummer!! That’s fair; you were surrounded by so many people—friends, castmates—all talking to you that night. I’ll never forget you in that skimpy silver coat, haha!”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory of that hideous suit, but it felt like a lifetime ago. How could she remember that? How could she remember me, of all people? I’d forgotten most of it already.
Then she said something that made my heart stutter, like it had been holding its breath for years. “We introduced ourselves, and you told me your name was Richard. I could never forget that boy with the dimples.” Her voice dropped a little, like she wasn’t sure if she should be saying this. The flush on her cheeks… it made me want to stay in this moment forever.
I don’t know why, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away from hers. She was vulnerable in a way that felt almost too intimate. I wanted to say something, anything, to fill the space between us, but all I could do was stare.
“There were so many people that night, yet I can’t shake the feeling I should remember you. I might forget names, but faces? They stay with me. If I’d seen yours, I’m sure it would have stayed with me,” I said. It felt true, but it was also a lie. How could I not remember her? The way she was now, the way she looked at me… she felt like a ghost of something I should have known.
Her smile widened, and for a split second, I thought I saw something in her eyes—maybe the smallest flicker of recognition, of something I could never touch. Then, just as quickly, it was gone. "I did a show on your network with Kris, so I remembered him too!" She added quickly, trying to shift the attention back to something light. But I didn’t want that. I wanted to hold on to this moment of fragility, this small piece of her that felt like it could be mine if only I were brave enough to ask for it.
She turned to talk to someone else, and I sat there, eating, my mind still buzzing with what had just passed between us. It wasn’t much. Nothing that could ever be defined or explained. Just two people sharing a memory, a small piece of their past. But it felt like everything. She’d remembered me. And for a fleeting moment, I had the illusion that maybe, just maybe, she could see me for who I was now. Not the boy in the silver coat, but the man who still remembered that night—still held on to it, even after all this time.
Journal entry #46
Saturday, April 20, 2019
A slight shift in the joviality of the room went unnoticed by everyone but me. It was subtle, like the quiet fading of a tune played too long—like the disappearance of something beautiful when you dared not look too closely. And then I realized—Kath was nowhere to be found. I pretended not to care, to brush it off as just another moment of passing distraction, but I couldn’t quite silence the ache that bloomed in my chest. I asked Ga, the question slipping from my lips without any real thought behind it—Where is everyone else?
But no, it wasn’t everyone I was looking for, was it? No, it was her.
Ga answered easily, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. There was still an hour left of break after lunch, free time for everyone to scatter to wherever they pleased. I should’ve been satisfied with that—after all, no one had asked me to keep tabs on her. No one had told me she needed to be found. Yet here I was, standing in the middle of the room, every pulse of my heart screaming for her presence, for something I couldn’t quite understand.
I nodded, feigning indifference. “Ah,” I said, hoping my voice would betray me less than my heart was already doing.
“Oh, and Kath’s boyfriend is here,” Ga added casually, the words puncturing the air with a coldness that seemed to settle in my ribs. "They're at her tent; you two should meet to break the ice."
Her boyfriend. The words rang like a bell in my ears, each tone sinking deeper into me than I wanted it to. And there it was—the truth laid bare, wrapped in the innocence of a suggestion I could never embrace. Kath had someone else, and that was that. I was nothing more than a passing figure in her life, a mere background to the scene that was unfolding with someone who wasn’t me.
I had no choice but to leave. To act on what I had been told. But deep down, there was a compulsion, a need to see her again, to let the silence between us speak a thousand words that my mouth had never managed. So, without hesitation, I found myself moving toward her tent, as if by some invisible force pulling me closer to the truth I wasn’t prepared to face.
When I opened the door, I was struck first by the light in her eyes. It wasn’t the kind of light that belonged to ordinary people. No, this was a light that consumed everything in its path, that rendered the mundane beautiful with a single glance. Kath. She was glowing. She was always glowing, and I, a shadow in the corner of her world, was powerless to resist it.
She smiled—a smile so wide, so unguarded, that I felt the sting of it before I could even begin to mask my reaction. Her smile was the sun breaking through a cloudless sky, and I, standing there in the pale coolness of my own feelings, could only smile back, trying desperately to hide the longing that twisted in my chest.
I greeted them both. My voice was steady, almost practiced at this point, though it seemed foreign on my lips, hollowed by the knowledge that I was no longer the object of her light. No, that had been taken. It had been given to him—the one who stood beside her, the one whose presence I could no longer ignore.
And yet, as I met her gaze one last time before stepping away, the words I’d wanted to speak lodged themselves in my throat. I smiled again, that hollow, aching smile that I knew would never reach her, and excused myself.
As I turned to leave, something strange lingered—something electric, something I couldn’t shake, even if I tried. A feeling that clawed at my insides, making my skin prickle with both exhilaration and dread. Why was it that she made everything feel so different?
I should’ve been indifferent. I should’ve walked away without a second thought, knowing that I meant nothing more than a passing thought in her world. But there was something in her—something I couldn’t quite define—that kept me tethered to her. And even though I knew it was never meant for me; I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d ever be able to sever the bond I had foolishly woven with my own desires.
No. It wasn’t love. It was something far worse.
It was yearning.
And it would be the death of me.
END