Chapter Text
Caleb
What is love?
More importantly, who is love?
For nearly two decades, Caleb Chanyeol Park has been wondering what the answers to those two questions were. As a Communications student, he never stirred away from the topic of love and even when his professors encouraged him to look for new topics elsewhere, he stood his ground and continued to search for an answer.
When he became Editor-in-Chief of the largest digital news outlet in the Philippines, he focused on why the public loved their subjects and what those subjects loved the most. He believed that even if it was cliché and people more often than not looked at strengths and skills in interviews, love was the root of it all-- love for the self and love for the craft.
And even when he moved countries and began to work internationally, he brought his curiosity about love with him. There must be something that people hold onto--something that was driven purely by love--that got them to where they are now.
When he thinks of love in his life, he thinks he’s still stuck in the beginning. When his parents separated, he began questioning what everlasting love was and what love for family was. It took him quite a number of years to understand that there are many types of love and, being able to recognize these types in his own life took even longer.
Caleb recalls the first time he fell in love. It was with a girl named Nana from his block in college. Nana was the epitome of a darling--smart, tall, beautiful, kind, and lovely. Caleb was in love with her and for a time, she felt the same way too. She was his entire world and, so the world crumbled right in his very eyes when she decided to leave.
The second time Caleb fell in love, he didn’t realize it until it was too late. His perception of love was that from the movies--grand gestures, screaming commitment, and a straight path-- because he didn’t really have actual, real life role models to follow. He didn’t know that love was hard work. Not then. Not yet. To him, love was a structured diagram. There was an exposition, rising action, climax, falling action, and then finally, a resolution. Love was already a written plot by those who went through it and the only thing needed from him was to follow said path. But love was complex--Caleb had to learn it the hard way. He had to lose his love, his friends, and his own life to realize that love differed from person to person and that he’s going to continue learning from those that he loves whether they stay or they leave.
To Caleb now, love meant being comfortable in being alone.
Love meant acknowledging what he can and cannot give.
Love meant taking risks whole-heartedly.
Love meant choosing to love.
Love means understanding that he can’t do all of the above.
Love means watching the people that he loves grow as he grows in his chosen path--his career.
After two and a half years in Canada, Caleb decides that he understands love now. He can finally move on from the subject and choose another aspect to focus on.
What love means to Caleb was finally answered. That was the end of that.
But under a broken street light in his parents’ hometown in Tagaytay at approximately 11 something in the evening on a weekday, as he walks home from 7/11 next to a guy laughing his ass off over something he saw online, hitting his arm, Caleb remembers another question--who is love?
His phone is on hand blasting Rico Blanco’s Your Universe on maximum. The streets of Tagaytay are quiet and only Rico Blanco’s voice and the fading out of laughter can be heard. He wants to hail a tricycle since he’s never been a fan of walking but the guy next to him insists that walking was good for the heart. We’re in our 30s, di na tayo babata pa. We have to exercise, he says and then he laughs again.
Caleb is holding a cup of convenience store coffee. Tagaytay is freezing as it is but even more so at 1 in the goddamn morning but he feels warm all over his presence. He offers his coffee but the friend only shakes his head and pushes it back to him, I live here. I’m good. Para sa mga balikbayan yan. This time, Caleb laughs along with him, nudging their shoulders together.
Rico Blanco continues to sing in the background as he thanks all of his lucky stars. Caleb looks at the guy next to him and thinks, you will never know how grateful I am that I met you.
Caleb isn’t sure if he believes in God or any other deity for that matter but that night, Caleb looks up to thank God or whoever it might be watching over them--thank you for this light. Thank God for allowing me to get to know this boy.
He feels warmth burst from his chest and then all over him. It’s been a while since he allowed himself to feel whatever he wants to. For about two years or so, it was all about keeping things under control and being hyper-aware of his surroundings and himself. And somehow, along the way, he kind of lost happiness.
Back and forth, he tosses happiness from one hand to another. Even if everyone wanted it, Caleb was unsure of what to do with it. The last time he did what made his heart happy, he hurt some people and so, in his journey to growing up at twenty-nine, he learned that good isn’t always good and that things are often wired and made to leave. Some days, Caleb even slams the door on happiness’ face.
And now, at thirty-one, he allows happiness to creep in between the spaces, in between quiet moments that used to be filled with deafening silence.
Happiness comes in the form of Basty.
Sebastian. A literal light came crashing to him in one of the aisles of 7/11 sometime 2 months ago, holding a handful of cans of San Miguel Lights in his hand. Caleb wasn’t supposed to go home. Not at least for the next two more years. He recently became Managing Director at an international media house just last year. He’s been their Editor-in-Chief for about three years and his contract won’t be up for two more years. Plus, he really doesn’t see the need to go home. His parents were almost always traveling with their new partners and his sister was busy raising two kids and a dog. A bachelor like Caleb didn’t want to squeeze himself in their steady fast-paced lives but, duty calls when it’s his 90-year-old grandmother makes the call to him to Canada to ask him to go home for her birthday. I don’t have much time left, she says jokingly. Caleb reprimands her and tells her that not all ninety-year-olds can still water and garden the plants but his grandmother—his nona— insists, I haven’t seen anyone from your family in years. Why can’t I see you?
So with a heart full of guilt, he books a flight home. His company gives him extra weeks off. He was the workaholic of the team; the only person who hasn’t availed any days off. So when the Human Resources Department found out about his vacation, they gave him extra weeks and advised that should he need more, they can and they will a hundred percent accommodate a work-from-home set-up. Caleb could only laugh at their faces and taunted that he’ll be back earlier and they should be working just as hard without him.
“I’m so sorry.” Caleb mumbles. He was still in his traveling clothes, opting to go straight to his local 7/11 rather than going straight home. Hasn’t it been over two decades since he last went home to his ancestral home? When his parents separated, neither of them visited their hometown so Caleb and his sister grew up in the city without much relationship with any family there.
Clad in a black windbreaker and some grey sweatpants, Caleb trudges his way to every single aisle in this 7/11 until he bumps into someone.
“Okay lang.” The stranger excuses himself and goes straight to the cashier. If the guy had planned on being trashed, four cans of beer will not do the trick unless he was a lightweight. He watched as he handed bills to the counter, noticing the heaviness on the stranger’s shoulder with every sigh and every crease on his eyebrows. When he realizes he was being a creep, he turns away and heads over to where the cup noodles are.
He decides to grab two large spicy noodles. His last meal was a little over six hours ago on the plane. He gets a litre of water, a bar of chocolate, a small box of koko krunch, a gimbap, and a sisig meal by the counter.
“Hi,” He greets the cashier. “Do you take cards?”
“Sir, 7/11 po ito.” The cashier replies, deadpan. Caleb smiles sheepishly and checks if he has any peso in his wallet. When he realizes that he only has his card and a twenty-dollar bill, he looks at the cashier in defeat.
“Saan po yung malapit niyong ATM machine?” To start with, Caleb already has a twister tongue with his Tagalog. Growing up in Katipunan meant being surrounded by people who spoke in two languages fluidly. In his time, people called it conyo. He realizes now, as a writer, that it’s his lack of knowledge in both languages that causes this. Not really the environment he grew up in. Added to that, he rarely spoke Tagalog in Canada. Although he does when he speaks to his family. Perhaps it’s the assimilation in his new country that makes him sound the way that he does now—a basic white boy.
Annoyed at Caleb, the cashier grunts, “Sa kabilang kanto pa po.”
He was going to answer when the same stranger from minutes ago pops up behind him, “Magkano ba?”
“Two hundred seventy-two po.”
“Lahat ba ‘yan sayo?” The stranger asks, voice reeking in amusement and judgment. “O, ako na. Bayaran mo na lang ako. Wait, do you understand Tagalog?”
“Oo naman.” Caleb nods but the accent still sticks out. “Thank you. Babayadan kita but you have to give me your address na lang because I have to withdraw.”
“No worries.” The stranger takes the receipt and motions for the paid food. “Turista ka ba?”
“Ah no,” Caleb thanks the cashier and subconsciously follows the stranger to one of the tables facing the window. “My lola, birthday niya soon so she wants me to pay her a visit.”
The stranger sits down in one of the small, circular stools. He glances at the empty seats next to him and points at them for Caleb. They’re both facing the glass window, watching as some cars and people pass by every now and then.
“Ah, so dayo ka?”
Caleb purses his lips, unwrapping his cup noodles before saying, “I don’t know what that is. Wait lang, I’m gonna put some hot water lang here.”
The smell of MSG fills his nose the moment hot water fills his cup to the brim. He makes sure that both noodles cook at the same time for the momentum. Surely, his nona has something more filling than this but he needed more strength first even if it’s in the form of the most processed foods possible.
When he goes back to his seat, he notices that his sisig meal is open. He doesn’t mean it but he looks at the stranger accusingly.
“Pina init ko lang.” He says. “Di ko kinain. Mukha namang tukmol yung ulam eh.”
He doesn’t know what tukmol is either but he just nods and slips back into his chair. He starts a timer in his head for three minutes for his noodles to cook.
“Kaninong apo ka?” The stranger crushes his third can and opens a new one.
“Would you know?” Caleb asks, curiously. “Amanda Park.”
“Ah,” Stranger’s eyes widen. “Si nona? Lahat kami nona yung tawag sa kanya kasi nahawa kami sa mga apo niya dati. Nung grade school kasi kaklase ko yung bunso tapos yung kuya ko, kaklase yung panganay tas nona daw is lola in—“
“In Italian.” Caleb cuts off. “Because she’s ¼ Italian and ¾ Korean but 100% Filipino at heart. Is that how she still introduces herself to people?”
The stranger examines him this time, studying his face despite the blur in his judgment because of the alcohol. The stranger is red at this point but Caleb knows better than to meddle with anyone’s business.
“Caleb?”
“Me?” Caleb puts a hand to his chest as if to confirm that the stranger was talking to him.
“Malamang, may iba ba tayong kasama?” A snarl. “Pero Caleb Park?”
Unsure, Caleb nods. Was his nona this popular? Is his family tree popular?
“Super sorry but,” Caleb glances at his noodles and then at the stranger. He’s torn between wanting to know how he knows him and whether or not the noodles are cooked. He prioritizes the latter. When he deems it okay, he starts slurping on the noodles. “Who are you?”
“Sebastian Byun.” Caleb chokes in horror. Byun? His first love’s last name was Byun and he’s still figuring out if it’s a good story to tell. “No, hindi ko kamag anak yung sikat na abogado. Wish ko lang edi sana kinasuhan ko na lahat ng nanakit sakin. Same lang kami ng apelyido. Baka same ng lineage. Pero hindi. I get this a lot and I’m done with it. Also, just call me Basty.”
Caleb tries to deny it by shaking his head. There was no denying the ultra-famous trial court lawyer also known as his ex-boyfriend was well-known and well-loved by the entire country. Not only was he cute, but he was also pretty, charming, and smart. He also doesn’t let any media follow him which adds to the mystery. But recently, the popular lawyer opened an Instagram to advocate for children and the elderly. Just solely that. No selfies whatsoever and maybe one or two stories weekly but people were in love with him.
“Lahat na ata sa office yan yung tanong sakin. Tinanong ko rin naman sa nanay ko kung pinsan ko kahit malayo pero hindi daw.” He takes a sip from his beer, probably savoring the last can. “Di mo pa rin ba ako naalala?”
With noodles between his teeth, Caleb shakes his head, a little embarrassed.
“Naalala mo bang may sumuka sa bag mo nung grade 4?” The stranger prods. “Eh, yung nambato ng dodge ball sayo nung grade 5 tas natanggal yung dalawa mong ngipin sa harap?”
“Wha—“
“Yung nanusok ng ballpen sa pwet mo nung grade 4 tas na clinic ka pa? Tsaka yung hiniraman mo ng brief nung na-jebs ka sa school, di ko na maalala if grade 4 or 5 yun eh. Ay! Tsaka pala, alalahanin mo naman kung sinong nanlibre sayo ng kisses at sisiw nung paiyak ka na sa may kal—“
“Sebastian Wangeun Byun.” Caleb puts his lips together and tightens his jaw in amusement. His mortal enemy slash best friend in grade school was sitting right next to him and now that he realizes it, he sees the resemblance in the uncanny smile and mischievous glint in his eyes. Basty may have aged a little but he doesn’t seem quite different from the kindest bully he knows. The memories flash in his mind in an instant—how the two of them always got into trouble together because of each other; how they both went home with bandages or bruises caused by each other; how they fought like crazy, poked each other will ball pens, and how they almost always killed each other during dodge ball. He was a tall and fat kid. Basty was a short, scrawny one. How they ended up being each other’s mortal enemy who was slightly friends was beyond the two of them.
“May scar pa rin sa pwet ko.” Caleb tells him. “You look sketchier now.”
“Aba, gagong ‘to.” Basty laughs. “Ako nagbayad ng kinakain mo ha.”
Caleb grins. “Fine. Sorry.”
“So, bakit ka nandito? Birthday ni Nona next month pa. Ang aga mo naman yata.”
“Sabi niya eh.”
Basty chuckles. “And since when did the Parks listen to nona?”
That’s true. Nona would always give all of them a call separately to convince them to go for a visit; to convince them that no the neighbors are not talking about the older Parks when they decided to end their marriage. But none of them budged.
“She said she was going to die only seeing me through a screen.” Caleb starts on his second cup of noodles and takes a huge slurp. “She’s not sick, isn’t she?”
“Hindi.” Basty answers. “Alam mo magugulat ‘yung buong barangay kapag nalaman na nandyan ka. Eh sila tito and tita? Si ate Yoora pala kamusta?”
“Mama’s in Spain. Papa’s in Italiy. Si ate nasa Hong Kong. Dun na sila based nung family niya. She has two kids and a dog. Her husband’s an engineer sa Disney Studios doon.”
“And you?”
“And me what?” He asks, mouth full.
“Kids? Dogs? Husband? Wife?”
Caleb shakes his head, putting down the cup and twisting open his bottle of water. Right, he hasn’t drunk for six hours either.
“No kids. No dogs. No husband. Never a wife, I suppose.” He laughs lightly. He never has to explain his sexuality to anyone but he thinks it’s a little different from people who knew him as a kid. “I married my work.”
“Tanginang ‘yan.” Basty laughs. “Anong klaseng cliché ‘yan? And huhulaan ko, wala ka na ring time ma-in love kasi kinakain ng trabaho lahat ng oras mo?”
“It’s cliché but it’s the truth.”
“Taga-Maynila ka nga.”
“Canada na ngayon.”
“Oh, that’s where the phony accent comes from.”
“Hey!” Yet again, Caleb finishes his noodles. He stacks the empty cups together and takes a swig of his water. “It’s not phony. And trust me, I’m trying to get rid of it but I’m gonna have to practice.”
“Hindi naman kailangan. Eh kung ‘yan ikaw, edi ayan.”
“That sounds like I’m a bad consolation.” Caleb proceeds to open his gimbap. He takes a huge bite before asking, “Ikaw? Kids? Dogs? Husband? Wife?”
Basty shakes his head almost immediately. “Counted ba kapag almost husband?”
“You have a fiancé?”
“I had a fiancé.”
“And?”
“Chismoso ka rin no?”
“I’m just asking.” Caleb shrugs. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re uncomfortable. I just think having a former fiancé is a great story to tell.”
“Kapag ba tatlong taon ka na niyang fiancé tapos na-realize mo wala naman pala siyang planong pakasalan ka tapos excuse niya lang yung pagiging LDR, good story to tell pa rin?”
Caleb tries to hide his surprise by swallowing his kimbap whole. There’s a sad look on Basty’s face when he says his truth and it makes him a teeny, tiny bit guilty for asking. But his friend just laughs and pats him on the back.
“Sampung buwan na rin. Okay lang ako.” He assures him. Caleb knows better than to ask again so he just hums in acknowledgment and turns away, facing the side of the road again. He finishes his meal in silence. He doesn’t realize that Basty has finished his beers for quite some time now and is for some reason, waiting for him to finish. “Hatid na kita.”
“Huh?” Caleb stops in his tracks to throw his trash and gives him a look. “No need. I can manage.”
“Ang dami mong maleta, oh.” Right. He left his suitcase by the umbrella holder before making his way to the noodles a while ago. “Papaano ka ba nakarating ditto?”
“Bus.”
“Ha? Marunong ka?”
“Google!” Caleb answers proudly. “Besides magtatatlong taon pa lang naman akong wala dito. I still know how to commute. May bus kaya na diretso na dito na pwede mo na bayaran ng card.”
Although the information is still a bit bizarre to Basty, he lets it go. Perhaps he can explore that bus when he gets home. He pulls on one of the suitcases and motions for Caleb to follow him to his car—an Audi. Basty Wangeun Byun has a damn Audi.
The black Audi is seemingly unfit in the place that he lives. But then again, Basty has always stood out wherever he goes. Somehow even if it looks misplaced in a place like Tagaytay, it fits Basty’s mold perfectly.
“I owe you two now.” Caleb says, following his old friend to the back of his car to place his suit cases.
“Alam mo, hindi magandang ugali ‘yang bilang ka ng bilang ng nagagawa for you. Hindi naman kita hinihingan ng utang ng loob.” He opens the trunk to his car and gestures to Basty. “Ikaw na magpasok. Mas malaki pa sa akin yan eh.”
He goes to the driver’s seat and ignites the engine. Caleb slams the trunk close before heading the passenger side. All along he thought his journey back home was going to be difficult but if anything, he’s off to a good start. Basty is the most serious he has been in the last few minutes as he exits the driveway of 7/11. He tries to take in all of his friends—it’s a habit he formed as a writer; to study people and to memorize them in a way. There’s always something left unsaid with people and it’s always written across their face—it would just take some time to figure it out.
As they enter the main road, they both relax in their seats. If he remembers correctly, Basty lives across his Nona’s house. Thank God or he’d feel worse for taking the time out of his day.
“Anong plano mo?” Basty breaks the silence with a question. “May agenda ka na ba? Tour?”
“Wala pa nga eh. Actually, I really just came home for Nona so I’ll just do whatever she wants.”
“Pwede ka naming mamasyal sa overlooking ng Taal o kaya pumuntang Leslie’s at mag Bulalo. Alam mo, busy si Nona sa umaga kasi sumasama siya sa mga nagtatahi sa bayan. Sa hapon naman, nagrorosaryo sa chapel. Mas maganda kung may plano ka rin.”
“I’ll check na lang pag may wifi na mamaya.”
“Sumama ka na lang sakin bukas.” Basty offers.
“Oh, no. I’d hate to intrude. I’ve been bothering you since—“
“Di ka naman bother.” Basty chuckles. “Wag ka ngang maarte. Di ba sabi ko sayo kapag inisip mo ng inisip yung mga utang na loob, magiging burden ‘yan. Bad ‘yon. Genuine yung pag tulong ko sayo. Genuine yung pagtanggap mo. Yun na ‘yun. No need to look into it.”
But I have to look into it, Caleb wants to say. He has to because otherwise, he might fuck things up. It doesn’t matter if it’s a romantic relationship or a platonic one. He once lived a life thinking and feeling free and that didn’t end up very well for him. His first love was a mess of entangled feelings that crashed and burned with words left unsaid and feelings assumed. After that, Caleb believed he should always calculate and communicate.
Calculate the situation and make sure that everything is fair and then, communicate to confirm with the other party. In that way, no one is hurt.
“Where are you off to tomorrow?”
“Morning run, first of all. Mga 6. So para mawala ‘yung jetlag mo.” He raises his index finger and then his middle one, “Tapos kailangan kong bisitahin ‘yung isa kong restaurant sa may high way. Kaka-one month lang kasi nun, bisitahin ko lang kung okay ba sila.”
“You have a business?”
Basty stops at a red light and gives him a fake scoff.
“Mukha ba ‘kong bum?”
“Four beers in 7/11 in under an hour?” Caleb laughs. “Medyo.”
“Gago.” Basty continues to drive when the light turns green. They spend the next fifteen minutes in silence until Caleb starts adjusting on his seat when they turn in their street. Frankly, he doesn’t remember anything but seeing the place now brings some blurry but warm and fond memories. He recognizes the old houses and points at new sari-sari stores they pass by. Basty stops in between their houses and lets his friend observe. “Ganun pa rin.”
“I remember.” Caleb nods. He points to the post in front of Basty’s house. “Diyan ka tumae nung Grade 2 tapos pinunasan mo ng dahon ng saging.”
“O kita mo ‘to. Bumaba ka na nga.” Basty turns off the engine and goes out of the car. Caleb is still chuckling at the memory. “Bilis na! Baka may dumaan pa na sasakyan.”
Caleb unbuckles his seatbelt and helps a struggling Basty who already pulled out one of his suitcases. He didn’t realize it a while ago but there was an obvious height difference between the two of them. He ruffles Basty’s hair which makes the latter scrunch his nose. He swats his hand away and slams the trunk shut.
“Thank you for saving me today.” Caleb smiles. “And yeah, samahan kita bukas.”
“Great kasi naka-maternity leave yung EA ko. So kailangan ko talaga.”
Caleb doesn’t know if he’s joking or not. A part of him wants to tell Basty that being an EA is quite a long shot from his current position in his occupation but he just flicks his forehead instead. That was more fun.
“Pwede bang 7AM yung morning run though?”
“Fine.” Basty lets out a deep, exaggerated sigh. “Only because it’s your first day. It was great seeing you again and please lumabas ka ng 7, okay? Ipapasok ko na ‘tong sasakyan sa garahe.” He heads back to his car and rolls down the window to the passenger side. “Bye, Caleb!”
“Bye!” Caleb watches as the gates to the house across theirs open automatically. He waits until he Basty disappears from his sight. He rings the doorbell to his Nona’s place and waits.
He remembers how they rekindled their friendship every time he’s with him. Caleb can’t quite believe it sometimes—how in his most drastic and unsure decision, he found him. Basty stops walking when he spots a huge rock on the side. There’s a smaller one beside it and he gestures Caleb to it.
“Mukha tayong pulubi.” He comments.
Basty shakes his head, “Masyado kang nagiisip.”
There are a lot more protests resting on his tongue, like how they can be sitting at home instead or how they could be spotted by a distant relative slash neighbor and make-up stories about them but, instead, he keeps silent. He sits on the rock as he’s told and watches the quiet road. They’re at the corner of their street. They do almost every night—eating, buying more junk food, sitting on the rocks at the corner of the street, watching the night in silence. Caleb can’t get used to the calmness and familiarity he feels when he’s with Basty. He sighs, once, twice, and thrice until Basty looks at him with a questioning glare.
There’s a storm brewing inside Caleb because he’s everything he has ever asked for. He looks at him too, wiggling his eyebrows, and making a face.
That’s love, a voice whispers. He tries to push it away. Has he ever had a love so pure enough to be reliable?
There you go again, Park, another voice reprimands. If he lets this happen again, he knows he’s going to end up breaking himself, Basty, and what they have with his fickle hands.
But right now? He’s sat in the corner of their street, on a rock with the boy he thinks he’s in love with.
“Aamin ka na ba?” Basty asks, one eyebrow raised, not looking the least bit concerned. “Halatang crush mo ko eh.”
“Huh?” He can feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. “Umayos ka nga.”
Basty hums then he grins at him and says, “If you say it I might say it back.”
There’s a hint of teasing in his words but there’s sincerity in his eyes. Caleb takes one long glance at him and wonders if he should trust him. Basty hasn’t done anything to hurt or annoy him—at least, not in the month that they’ve known each other—but his mind won’t stop asking him if he’s sure he hasn’t hurt him yet. Is he careful this time? Is he hurting someone again without knowing? But, Basty wouldn’t hesitate to call him out if he did. Instead, he’s still looking at Caleb with the most patient eyes.
It’s sitting on the tip of his tongue, Are you love?
Caleb takes one deep breath, hoping to find an answer to the million questions in his head.
The worst hasn’t happened yet.
He prays to whoever is willing to listen that it won’t.